#henrycavill au

[viking-raider]

SALT IN OUR WOUNDS - CHAPTER V

Summary-> After being found out by the Patrol, you try to act the part, to lower the suspension on Gus's presence.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III IV

Warnings-> PG-13: AU, Language, Deception, References to WWII, Use of the word Nazi.

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction, pulled from my imagination.

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

With the officers gone, Gus helped you to your feet, gently cradling your arm in his hands to look at the steadily bruising print on your bicep. His brows creased, as anger at the officer's roughness with you filled him again and guilt for getting you into this mess consumed him. Laying a hand on his chest, you offered him a soft, reassuring smile, nodding your head slightly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, tracing the edge of the bruise with his thumb.

"It's not your fault, Gus." You cooed, brows pinching slightly. "It's not like you walked up here and asked us to take you in, We-" You looked at Edmund, who nodded at him. "took you in because we knew it was the right thing to do."

"So, he's not a worker from another village?" Your father's skeptical tone asked, as he regarded the three of you from his chair.

Edmund sighed heavily, rubbing the side of his face. "No, Pops. He's not." He answered, having not liked lying to your father to start with, despite it being needed at the time. Now he was going to have to ask something just as difficult. "She found Gus injured on the beach the other day, and we brought him in, so Dr. Tremblay could treat his wound. I know we told you he was working for me." He explained, moving across to sit beside him. "Now, however, the Patrol, and Trottier, think that Gus is her fiancé. We need to keep that story going. At least, until he's well again and, either they leave the area, or Gus can get back to where he needs to be."

"Can you do that, Papa?" You asked, frowning down at him, concerned for his well-being in the matter, knowing it was a lot asking your father to make merry with a random man who was pretending to be your future husband.

"Well, I have no choice in the matter, do I?" Mael answered, rubbing his shaky hands over his knees. "The mission has already been set up for me by the three of you. I'm just here as support."

"I'll make it as short a mission as possible." Gus replied, giving him a serious, but respectful, expression. "One Major, to another." He added, with a knowing glint in his blue eyes.

"I'll hold you to it." Mael stated, giving him a hard look.

"I guess there's no reason to finish the project downstairs." Edmund commented, sitting at the kitchen table with you and Gus, hands cupped around a fresh mug of coffee.

"Oh, I don't know." You chimed in, setting your tea down. "I really could use some shelves down there." You smirked, giving him a teasing expression.

Edmund gave you a squinty eyed look. "Use some shelves." He parroted, tapping the rim of his cup with his index finger. "Down-stairs."

"Mmhm." You nodded, brows going up, and giggling as Edmund's eyes flickered to Gus. "What are you looking at him for?"

"Wondering if he can get his fiancé under control." Edmund quipped, finally raising the coffee to his mouth.

"Well, I always heard, 'happy wife, happy life'." Gus answered, shifting in his seat, and glancing over at you. "So, if more shelves make her happy." He shrugged his shoulders, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Just because you give her everything she wants, doesn't mean she'll be happy." Edmund replied, an almost sour edge in his voice.

"Are you trying to compare me to Willamena?" You asked, cocking an offended brow at him.

Edmund finished off his coffee and pushed his chair back. "No." He said curtly, standing and striding over to the door, jerking his coat off the hook on the wall beside it. "I'll be back later." He huffed, going out.

"Is he all right?" Gus asked, look to you.

"Edmund will be fine." You sighed, shaking your head. "He and Willa, his wife, haven't been happy together in a very long time. So, it's a sore subject for him." You explained, getting up to take your and Edmund's cups to the sink, but glanced up at the clock. "I have to go down to the shop. We don't have anything for dinner in the refrigerator and I have to see when Remi wants me to work another shift."

"Is it far?" He inquired, coming up behind you and setting his own mug in the sink.

"No." You shook your head, biting your lip as you felt his intense warmth against your back. "Maybe a two minute walk."

"Why don't I go with you?" Gus suggested, cocking his head and smiling at you.

"Do you think you can manage with your wound?" You asked, a bit apprehensive. "I don't want you to over-extend yourself."

Gus's smile brightened and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "I'll be fine, I promise." He assured you, his thumb rubbing your wrist. "I could use the fresh air and sunshine. Plus, it'll help deter any of the Patrol, instead of making them more paranoid, if I stay inside a hundred percent of the time."

"You're right." You nodded, biting your lip, having not thought of what the Patrol would think of Gus staying hidden. "I'll get my shoes and something to wrap up in." You told him, before giving his hand a gentle pressure back.

"I'll wait for you here."

He let go of your hand and moved out of the way. Your cheeks felt warm as you hurried upstairs to grab your cardigan off the back of a chair in your room, pausing to fix your hair in the mirrored back of your vanity and spritz a bit of Soir de Paris. But you stopped, feeling silly.

"Acting like this is a date." You sighed, flustered, plopping down on your chair. fishing your shoes out from under the vanity and securing the buckles. "All right, I'm ready to go." You declared, coming back downstairs, finding Gus patiently waiting for you by the door.

"As am I." He answered, tipping his head politely, while pulling open the door.

"You mind her, Major." Mael called out to Gus, leaning forward in his chair to catch his eye.

"I would think of nothing less." Gus assured him, meeting your father's eye confidently. "I am her fiancé, after all." He quipped, with a wink, then followed you out. "Do we hold hands?" He asked, looking at you, but felt his heart kick at your startled reaction. "I'm only teasing you." He said softly, biting his lip.

"I know." You squeaked, flustered, before catching sight of your sister-in-law coming out of her home across the way. "Oh, that's Willa." You mumbled to Gus, before lifting your arm and waving to her.

"Morning, Willa!" You greeted her, grinning pleasantly.

Willa stared over at you and Gus, pulling a Rose-Tip out of her engraved case and her sky-blue enamel guilloche, sterling silver lighter from the front pocket of her knitted jumper. She didn't return your pleasant acknowledgement, instead lit her cigarette in a smooth and indifferent motion, eyes never moving off the two of you. Gus frowned, cocking a brow at her as he studied her standoffish demeanor; puzzled. She was just anti-social or if she was being rude.

"What’s her issue?" He asked you, his own eyes never leaving Willa.

"She's fine." You answered, sighing at your sister-in-law, your heart yearning to have a connection with her.

You had been excited upon hearing about Edmund courting someone; finally having another woman in the house to talk to, to share in the chores and just confide things to. Things you couldn't do with your father and brother.

However, from the moment you met, Willamena Badeaux had been distant from you.

She wasn't cold, per se, but she hadn't opened up with you either. Willa had been the first female in your close and personal circle, outside of the couple of elderly church ladies that would come over during the day. They would cook meals, clean the house, wash the laundry and just make sure you, Edmund and your father were well taken care of. After your mother had run off with her lover, the assistant shop clerk of the grocery store she frequented on her shopping trips. Which several of you figured were excuses to go and meet up with him; so she could cheat on your poor father.

But, the church women never went out of their way to be motherly or be a true confidant for you. Their love and friendship was out of pity. You were the little girl of a harlot and a mentally broken man, who could barely manage a job, dropping that weight onto his teenage son. So, when Willa came into the picture, you thought you would have a sister, not only to do sisterly things with, but to also learn how to be a woman. That's obviously not how it turned out.

She only came over to the house, if Edmund urged her to. She only held a conversation with you, if you were the one to start it and spurred it to keep going, otherwise she only spoke to Edmund or sat quietly. It only got worse, when the two of them married and moved into the cottage across the street from you and your father. Willa rarely came over for family dinners, meals you were still solely cooking for the four of you. Only occasionally getting a home cooked meal from her, after she and Edmund quarreled over her not performing her wifely duties and dropping the chores of two houses on you. As if you were their maid.

Part of you was sure, Willa detached from you, because she had been under the assumption Edmund only married her to be a mother figure to you. Not because he had been, once upon a time, madly in love with her.

"Do you need anything from the shop, Willa?" You asked, pulling yourself from sinking deeper into that emotional hole. "Gus and I are popping down there now." You explained, raising a hand and motioning to him, casually.

She stared at you for a long minute, before holding up her case, the sunlight glinting off the engraved bronze and mother of pearl. Nodding that you got the hint, you turned and started towards the center of town, with Gus following beside you. The sun was warm, heating the both of you, as well as the modest homes and buildings that lined the street, all converging on the limestone fountain round-a-bout in the middle of Saint-Thurney, spraying an arch of water from the top; a rainbow sparkling in the mist.

"This is really quite a quaint town." Gus commented, glancing about, following you across the sleepy street.

"It is." You replied, smiling up at him, proud of your little adoptive home. "It's almost like we're somewhere else entirely, instead of such a bustling and chaotic world." You told him, always feeling a sense of peace while in Saint-Thurney, even with a World War being waged around you and the town being occupied.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." You added softly, stopping beside Remi's General Store. "This is the place!" You declared, waving your hand at the store's front windows, plastered with advertisements for goods he sold inside, several crate displays lined the bottom of one window. "You'll like Remi, he's super sweet." You smiled, reaching out for the door handle, only to have Gus beat you to it.

"Allow me." He purred, pulling it open and standing aside, for you to go in first. "Only proper for your fiancé to open it for you."

You gulped, biting the inside of your lip. "Right." You nodded, clearing your throat. "You're right."

Composing yourself, you went inside, finding Remi at the only register with one of the residents, Mrs. Moulin, the Mayor's wife. They looked up at you and smiled, before their expressions twisted into apprehensive confusion, spotting Gus coming in behind you.

"Morning, Remi. Mrs. Moulin." You greeted them cheerily, while trying to keep casual, like there was nothing out of the ordinary for Gus to be there with you.

"Good morning." Mrs. Moulin addressed you, her eyes still on Gus, as if she expected him to lash out at everyone.

"Who is this?" Remi asked, ignoring his manners, unlike her.

"This is Gus." You grinned brightly, looking back at him and your breath catching in your throat at the feeling of him taking your hand. "He's my fiancé." You declared, heart racing in your chest.

Both Remi and Mrs. Moulin looked floored at the announcement, particularly Remi, who you had worked for for several years and knew you'd never mentioned having a male suitor. Let alone a fiancé! So, selling Remi on Gus being your betrothed was going to be one of the other hurdles you faced, on top of the Patrol and Director General.

"When did this happen?" Remi snapped, dumbfounded and looking almost outraged. "You never mentioned anything!"

Gus rested his free hand on the small of your back, his eyes taking the other man in, sizing him up. "Keeping me your own little secret, Peanut?" He asked, a sparkle coming into his eyes as he looked at you, bashfully.

A zing shot through you, hearing him call by your nickname, your skin breaking out in goosebumps. "I have been." You smirked, bashfully turning your face into his bicep.

"How did the two of you meet?" Remi asked, continuing his interrogation.

"We knew each other from before she moved here." Gus answered, surprising you on how casually he came up with the fabricated detail. "I reached out to her just after I enlisted, and well, I proposed to her a year ago." He stated, smiling at you and caressing your back with his thumb. "Thankfully, she said, yes."

"Would you have gotten yourself shot sooner, if I said no?" You teased him back, getting lost in the moment.

Gus grinned at you, amused, but he felt something deeper. "Definitely." He nodded slowly, his blue eyes soft.

Mrs. Moulin gasped, crossing herself. "You were shot?"

"Yes, madam. I was." Gus replied, tipping his head politely to her. "That's the reason I'm here, and not back in Belgium; fighting." He stated, lightly touching his wound. "This lovely gem is taking care of me." He cooed, touching his thumb to your chin with a wink, making your knees a little weak.

"I thank you, sir." Mrs. Moulin said, straighten her petite body, then glanced around the group. "Fighting those damn Nazis."

Your mouth fell open, surprised to hear the ordinarily prim and proper lady, curse. "Mrs. Moulin." You mumbled, in a state of shock.

"Well, it's true!" She huffed at you, gathering up her grocery bags. "I'm sick of them being in my town, marching about, like they own it."

"I'd be careful with what you say, Mrs. Moulin." Remi warned, as she moved for the door. "You never know who you can trust." He said, eyeing Gus.

"Luckily, everyone here is trustworthy." You chimed, with confused surprise. "Have a good day, Mrs. Moulin. Say hello to the Mayor for me."

"Oh, I will, my dear." She answered, reaching out to rest her hand on your arm, looking between you and Gus. "You make a beautiful couple. You must let my brother, Zane, marry you when the time comes." She said, with a sweet smile.

Your cheeks blazed at her words. "We'll put him at the top of consideration." You promised her, offering her your own soft smile.

"Good." She nodded, patting your arm and gave Gus a cheeky wink, before scuttling out the door.

"Do I have a shift this week, Rem?" You asked, turning your attention back to your boss, who hadn't taken his judging eyes off of you.

"I haven't gone over the schedule yet this week." He answered, gruffly. "So, I'll have to let you know."

"All right." You nodded, feeling the cold coming off of him in waves. "Well, I have a bit of shopping to do for the house." You said, trying to shrug it off as Remi's reluctance to trust with the uncertainty of war, having lost both his brothers.

Gus stepped away from you, to grab a small hand basket from the stack by the door, holding it for you as you puttered around the modest aisles and freezers, grabbing a few items and placing them in the basket.

"Everything is so bare." He commented, watching you grab a box of oatmeal, only one of four on the scarce shelf.

"We're being rationed." You replied, sighing as you tucked a box of dry pasta in with the rest of your groceries. "Remi only gets a shipment of things once a week to stock the shelves. If you want something and don't get here early enough for it..." You trailed off, shrugging your shoulders dismissively.

“Suppose, being enlisted for so long, I’ve been a bit blind to the tribulations of civilians.” Gus frowned, his brow creasing heavily. “Not that I didn’t know about rationing. I just didn’t…” He shook his head, a hardness coming into his blue eyes. “Damned Nazis.” He growled, rolling his jaw.

You rested your hand on his elbow, looking up at him with a soft expression. “It is what it is, Gus.” You told him, quietly. “But it will change. We’ll beat them and everything will go back to how it should.”

“As it should.” He echoed, meeting your eye for a long moment.

What will happen after the War ends? No matter who wins. I’ll have to go back to the Army. I’ll have to leave her. Could I come back after my service? Would you want me to come back? Could I…

He shook his head hard, trying to shove the thoughts away. It was delusional to think such things, he was getting too involved and attached. He needed to keep a barrier between the two of you, to protect you against the danger he presented as an officer of the British Army.

“Well, what’s for dinner?” He asked, forcing that wall back up and peeking into the basket he carried for you.

“Um..” You cocked a brow at the basket’s contents taking stock of it and what you knew was at home. “I could make a simple stew. Wouldn’t be too much, but it would be something in our bellies.”

“I have faith in your cooking abilities.” Gus smiled, the sparkle coming back into his eyes.

“Kind of you.” You giggled shyly. “I think that's about all we need.” You said, biting your lip and glancing about the modest shop. “We can get rung up.” You smiled, heading towards Remi at the register. “How’s your Mum, Rem?” You asked, as he slowly added up everything in your basket.

Remi’s mother had suffered great shock at the loss of her two older sons, Duncan and Andre, who had enlisted and been shipped off to the thick of the war. Duncan had died in the Battle of Crete, taking shrapnel that nicked a serious artery and bled to death before anyone could do anything for him. The most tragic though, was Andre. His squad was ambushed by a German one and overtaken. It had been a hard time for many in the town, when they received the telegraph informing them of Andre officially being MIA. Every time Remi’s mother was seen, she was balling her eyes out and lamenting, prophesying that he too would die as her oldest did.

Two months later though, another telegraph arrived informing them that Andre had been found alive, but being held in a German Prisoner of War camp. His mother was relieved to hear he was alive, however she was still devastated to hear of his situation. Andre survived for a while in the camp. Two whole years, to be exact. But the fated telegraph ultimately arrived, one blustery day, and practically the entire town heard her screaming.

So, in that sense, you and Remi had developed a friendship based on an understanding of parents with mental health issues, inflicted by wars in some way.

“She’s doing all right.” Remi answered, not looking up from his task.

You blinked at him, ordinarily he would elaborate on how his mother was doing when you asked, even if nothing had changed about her. But you realized quickly where his reluctance came from, feeling Gus shift beside you.

Men. You rolled your eyes.

“Can I have Willa’s usual as well?” You asked, ignoring the thick air between Gus and Remi.

“Sure.” Remi nodded, half turning on his heels to grab the red and white, Rose Tip box and tucked it into the bag. “I’ll put this on your tab.” He said, setting it in your reach.

“Thanks.” You smiled uneasily at him, as Gus scooped the bag up and tucked it carefully against his good side. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.” You told him, before leaving the shop and tracing your steps back home.

“What’s wrong?” Gus inquired, glancing down at you.

“Nothing.” You informed him, licking your lips and shaking your head. “Guess he’s just having a rough day.” You brushed it off.

Gus moved out of the cellar and into the cramped guest room upstairs, nothing separating the two of you now, but the wall of your closet. The two of you agreed it was much more agreeable to have him there than the cellar in the event the Patrol and the Inspector returned. They know doubt would, their suspension of Gus was all too obvious. It would also be more comfortable for him in the guestroom, giving him a softer bed, the luxury of sunlight and fresh air from the window that overlooked the back garden. As well as the beach, beyond the garden wall.

But as Gus healed and regained his strength again, he knew he had to find a way back to his men, and the war. He had to find out what happened to his men, if they were still alive. How he was to do that, was another matter altogether.

The last thing he recalled of the group was infiltrating a Nazi Intelligence Camp to rescue one of their own, Geoffrey Appleyard. They had gotten into the camp and things had gone well. He and his second hand man, Anders Lassen, moved smoothly together before nodding at each other and Gus looked back to Henry Hayes, jerking his head for the younger man to follow him. They moved swiftly through the camp, taking Nazis out left and right and making the camp practically useless for any that tried to use it again; with Freddy Alvarez setting up a plethora of explosives as a finishing touch.

Gus was proud of his men. No one had been seriously injured, beyond a handful of scratches. It had been one of their best in and out missions in the two years the unofficial, rag-tag group had been put together. That alone should have given Gus a measure of paranoia.

Missions should never go so easily.

The shot rang out and everyone in the group tensed, the jolly celebration that filled them instantly vanished as they dropped their looted goods and scrambled for their weapons, pulling out guns and bows. Gus hated being caught by surprise, especially by damned Nazis. He gritted his teeth, returning fire, while trying to assess the situation. They were a mile and a half from shore, where their boat was waiting to take them back to the safety of Allied Lines. There was a sparse covering of forest between them and their extraction point, that could give them some shelter. As much as Gus March-Phillippss hated being surprised, he hated running. But hearing Anders call out that there were too many and ammo was running low, Gus gave the signal to retreat to the boat, taking up the rear to ensure none of his men lagged behind.

It was him that lagged behind.

He felt the hot burn of lead piercing his side, faltering only momentarily, his eyes focused on the back of Lassen’s head, breath from his lungs starting to wheeze in his throat and his vision spot. Gus’s memory skipped in and out from there, like a scratched record. Spotting the boat ahead of the group and urging them forward, the heat of blood soaking into his clothing and his knees feeling like jelly. He couldn’t recall if he made it to or onto the boat with the others, then somehow fell overboard, or something more happened.

There were dark bits lurking in his mind of freezing cold enveloping him, no doubt of him in the Channel.

“Your father’s very into following the movements of the War.” Gus said one morning, sipping a cup of coffee as the two of you finished breakfast.

“He is.” You nodded.

“Does he only follow the major events or…” He trailed off, meeting your eye.

“No, he follows whatever is reported on or gossiped about in newspapers and the radio.” You replied, sensing his intent and sudden interest in your father’s hobby. “Why?” You asked, cautiously.

“I need to know what happened to my men.” Gus told you, bluntly and honestly. “I have to know if they’re still alive, dead or in prisoner of war camps. Perhaps your father has some information that could be useful to me, on that front.”

“How?” You shook your head, confused.

“I was injured during a mission.” He divulged to you, in a low voice. “It wasn’t an official or authorized mission, but there might be a possibility of it being reported on.” He cast an eye over his shoulder to the sitting room, where your father lounged in his usual spot. “Do you think he’d discuss it with me?”

You snorted at him and lifted your tea cup to your lips. “Do I think so? It’s more a matter of getting him to quit, once you get him going.” You said, taking a deep gulp of the rich, brown liquid. “But, yes.” You nodded, assuring him. “I’m sure my father would likely share any information he has on the War with you. Just wait until later in the morning. He likes to nap after breakfast, and he’ll be more receptive and energetic about the subject.”

“Excellent.” Gus smiled, patting your arm. “Would you like to go on a walk with me, to pass the time?”

“I think that would be quite agreeable.” You cooed, finishing off your tea.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #Gus march Phillips #Gus March-Phillipps #Salt in Our Wounds #Salt in Our Wounds *Fic* #Gus/You #Gus/Reader #Gus x You #gus x reader #Gus March-Phillipps x Reader #Gus March-Phillipps x You #gus march phillips x you #gus march phillips x Reader #gus march phillips/Reader #gus march phillips/You #WWII #wwii era #The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare!AU #WWII!AU

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

One of two kinds - Part 1

Masterlist

A/N: "Part 1", Nina? Part 1? And it's 8.7k words long? Yes, yes, yes, part 1. Guess centaur!Sy will have to wait for a bit, right? I don't even know how I came up with the idea for werewolf!Geralt (affectionately known by me and a few others as "Weralt") but OH BOY am I glad I did... And then Geralt kept getting bigger and the Druid kept getting smaller, and now we're left with this.

I don't think this qualifies as monsterfucking just yet, but rest assured I promised someone knotting and that will happen...

Characters: werewolf!Geralt x halfling!druid!OFC (unnamed)

Summary: When you find a wounded, new werewolf in the forest, you can't just leave him lying there. Perhaps the enormous man will turn out to be exactly what you needed...

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MINORS DNI, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected. Be smarter!), dirty talk, SIZE KINK, annoying banter (❤️), lots of teasing, mentions of sexual assault, murder, blood, violence (that took a turn), and just so that no one is confused and comes after me for this later... SIZE KINK!!! And one suggestion of a very inappropriate use of wildshaping... I think that's all but if I missed any, let me know.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @keanureevesisbae @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @peyton-warren @ramadiiiisme @mysweetlittledesire

The groans and whines cut through the forest, clearly half-animal half-man to your ears. It awakened your curiosity; it was likely a shifter, or so the wolf-like howls would indicate. Wolf-hybrids were so rare that you almost discarded the possibility immediately, but shape shifters were common enough in all forms.

Swiftly you flew through the thick of the forest, towards the source of the cries. He wasn’t difficult to spot; a bright white fleck on the forest ground – and one of considerable size.

Behind a tree, you shifted back, carefully rearranging your skirts – for some reason – before stepping into the small clearing where the creature cried. He was possibly the largest wolf you had ever seen! An adult male, from the looks of it, but a new one. One who had only found his wolf recently. Older wolves rarely went through the trouble of shifting to their full form unless it was a full moon or mating season...

Careful not to startle him, you crept towards him until his big, golden eyes locked on yours, in them an expression of pain so overpowering that you nearly felt his agony yourself. The cries got louder until one echoed in your head: “Help!” He spoke the Common language, to your surprise. He didn’t feel human, even after you disregarded the obvious animal energies.

“Shh,” you said when he yelped, clearly in tremendous pain. He allowed you to touch his head, leaning into your touch and nuzzling your hand. From here, you could see a rather gruesome cut on his stomach and a bite mark on his thigh from something not much bigger than him – but maybe a lot angrier. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” you whispered to him while trying to think of a way to move the behemoth out of the cold. Even your wolf form wouldn’t be large enough to move him.

With the absence of other sensible options taken into consideration, you arrived at the conclusion that magic was the only viable solution. The creature whined softly as your spell lifted him off the floor, and you dragged his levitating body carefully through the woods, until you found the cave you were looking for. The rough floor was cold, but it would have to do.

“You need to shift back,” you whispered as you sat by his enormous head. Gods, whoever this was had to be an exceptionally large man – especially compared to your small frame... “I know it hurts, and I know it’s terrifying, but I can’t heal something as big as you,” you pleaded. You ran your hands through the soft white fur on his neck in an attempt to calm the wolf down. It was obvious to you that he was fighting his shift, and you knew that meant it would hurt him all the more. He simply couldn’t hold on to his wolf form forever.

Slowly, the rhythm of his breathing steadied under your touch. “Good, good...” you muttered, raking your fingers through his fur. “Stop fighting it, it won’t hurt if you let it happen.” It wasn’t quite a lie, but it was something slightly other than the truth: phasing wasn’t painful, per se, but uncomfortable enough to be experienced that way in the beginning. The feeling was certainly more or less an acquired taste.

“I can’t...” The grunt that sounded in your mind was accompanied by a low growl from the creature.

“Yes, you can, I know you can,” you said as you smoothed a hand over his cheek. Watching a werewolf – or were-anything – phase was a sight somewhere between gruelling and fascinating, but this man somehow made it look powerful and captivating in a way.

His human – or rather, ‘regular’ form, as you were still convinced this man was at least not fully human – was as impressive as his wolf; Approaching – perhaps even exceeding – two metres in height, with broad shoulders and no shortage of muscle. As your curious eyes raked over his form, you couldn’t help but notice other parts of him that were quite sizeable... Immediately, you discarded the thought: All it took was one look at his abdomen and thigh, both of which had sustained quite a bit of damage.

“Don’t move,” you told the man as you placed your hands over the wound on his stomach before you started on your first healing incantation. “I won’t be able to heal you completely, but I should be able to get both of us through the night,” you muttered as you watched the wound carefully, not taking your hands off the man until the bleeding had stopped. At least that put him out of immediate danger...

The wound on his leg, you had already noticed, would require a more finessed approach; it ran rather high on the inside of his thigh – a place that was impossible for you to reach without putting your hands in places that you had better not touch, even as a healer, without it being strictly necessary. Luckily, now that he was no longer continuously fighting his transformation, and with the other wound in a less alarming state, the man seemed to be in considerably less pain.

“Could you, eh... I need to... Please,” you stammered, your cheeks glowing hot as you made vague gestures at his crotch. “Can you move your, eh... Parts... out of the way, please?”

He looked at you and cocked an eyebrow, while a devious smirk spread on his face. “Parts?” he asked, a hint of that same smugness unbecomingly evident in his voice.

You cleared your throat and tried – and failed – to keep your voice steady as you spoke again: “Yes. To put it plainly... Ehm... Move your dick.” The man snorted, lowering his hand tragically slowly and cupping his... package, so you had access to his thigh. Without thinking, you straddled his leg as you put your hands over the wound, quietly marvelling at the sight of his vast, tree-trunk thighs, fighting the urge to moan as the muscles twitched beneath your fingers. “What did this to you?” you asked softly while still concentrating on your spell.

“Don’t know, didn’t see it,” the man grunted. So, he wasn’t one of many words... He let out a sigh of relief as you finished your work and took your hands off his leg. There was no doubt that it was still sore, as you weren’t able to continue your treatment right now – not if you wanted to make it through the cold night with the slightest bit of comfort, at least.

“How does that feel?” you asked the stranger, and he replied with another grunt.

“Much better,” he groaned. Then, he moved his leg in such a way that made you lose your balance, and you tumbled forward, until you were on top of him. Actually, ‘were launched on top of him’ was a far better description. He barely grunted as you landed on him, but when your eyes met, he was looking down at you in utter befuddlement. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were...” He awkwardly pinched his fingers together in a gesture that could have meant absolutely nothing other than ‘small’.

“I’ll have you know I’m exceptionally tall for a halfling, you brute!” you snapped, frowning up at him. Despite your feisty attitude, you didn’t dare move, as you were very aware of the rather unfortunate position on his body you were in. Luckily, he seemed far less plagued by reservations regarding the situation, and before you know it, his large hands grabbed your waist, and he pulled you up towards him. His sly grin never left his face as he set you down on his stomach, just above the wound you had just been working on, which now presented itself as a new scar, the fresh skin pink and shiny and – above all – delicate, making you extra careful not to make any unexpected moves.

“What’s your name?” you asked, feeling it was only appropriate at this point to find out that information about him.

“Geralt,” he said with a low chuckle. You repeated it – it was a rather unusual name – and introduced yourself, still seated on top of his chest. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “Do you have any idea what happened to you?”

“I... Well, you saw the aftermath. I don’t know what attacked me, and... You seem to know a lot more about what I am than I do,” he said slowly. Something in his voice suggested he was lost, confused and perhaps even a bit scared.

“Get some rest,” you said, conjuring up a soft bed of moss beneath the man, “I’ll try to gather some food.”

It was not an easy task, as it was rather dark out and also quite cold, but you managed to forage a batch of mushrooms and berries that, together with the provisions you carried, should make a nice meal for the both of you. Upon your return to the cave, you saw Geralt, slowly scurrying through the cave – still in the nude, as he of course did not have any clothing at this time. He had almost finished building a small circle of stones. Next to it, there was a pile of branches and twigs, and a supply of larger blocks of wood. Since there was no axe present, those blocks had to be a testament to his incredible strength.

“It’s freezing,” he said plainly when he noticed you standing there. Yes, the temperature. You had already noticed it yourself, but now that you were faced with this man, sanding upright, completely naked, you rapidly felt the temperature of your body rise as you involuntarily let your eyes glide over his imposing form.

“It is...” you replied, never taking your eyes off of his generous endowment. It truly was freezing. A chuckle escaped him – of course he had noticed your completely inappropriate staring – as he sat back down on the layer of moss you had conjured for him. “I can light it,” you said quickly, before Geralt could move towards the stone circle. You sank to your knees next to it, and quickly built a fire. Then, you focused on cooking the two of you a meal.

“It’s not a lot,” Geralt complained as you handed him his portion of the food you had prepared.

“I’m so very sorry! Naturally, I foresaw these circumstances, yet neglected to pack enough food to accommodate a giant like yourself,” you snapped at him. What did he expect you to do? “What are you, anyway?”

“My father is a half-orc, and my human mother clearly isn’t quite right in the head,” he scoffed. You struggled to suppress a chuckle. As far as you were concerned, his mother had had exactly the right idea... “Though I suspect you would disagree with that.”

“I beg your pardon?” you said, not even feigning indignation at the implication in his remark – it was perfectly genuine. How dare he make that assumption? He was right, of course, but how dare he?

For whatever reason, he decided not to press the matter, finishing his meal without making another sound.

“Your mother was also a werewolf,” you said after swallowing the last bite of your own supper. “Your father likely wasn’t, which would explain why it took so long for your first shift to occur. I take it you’ve been away from home for a while, too?” As you had already expected, Geralt nodded in reply to your question. That just about explained the entirety of his current predicament. When you looked into his eyes, the hint of fear was back again, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the man.

“Alright, I can tell you haven’t the slightest clue as to what’s happening to you, so I will do my best to explain it as clearly as possible,” you said – not that your knowledge on shape shifters was so vast, but it had already become painfully obvious that you knew more than this poor sod. “If you want, I will stay with you until your transformation is complete."

You expected him to argue with you, to tell you to waste your time on something else, or that he would be alright without you. Instead, Geralt accepted your offer without so much as a single complaint – he truly must have been terrified. It wasn’t unimaginable; things were happening to him that were not only new to him, but beyond anything he had ever imagined he could possibly be.

“What do I have to look forward to?” he groaned as he stretched out on the patch of moss again, not bothering to cover his body with... Well, there was nothing he could possibly cover himself with... Your cloak surely wouldn’t suffice – it would barely be enough to cover one of his enormous legs. Besides, you’d get cold if you handed it to him. To fashion a blanket out of moss would be possible, but it would leave you without a bed, as you were really starting to get tired, and using more magic was out of the question. To leave him bare through the night, however, especially in his current condition, would certainly prove disastrous for him. With the fire still going, his attire – or lack thereof – wasn’t an immediate concern. His question, on the other hand, was.

“You have made it through the worst part; the full shift is unanimously more difficult and more painful than the half shift,” you explained. “It should follow within a few days. In the meantime, prepare to feel... moody – although I suspect it wouldn’t be the first time people say that about you – and restless, generally uncomfortable... There won’t be a lot I can do but keep you company and help you through the shift, but at least you won’t be alone.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, turning onto his side on the makeshift bed. This time, when you looked closely, he shivered. “You don’t happen to have anything larger than that handkerchief you call a cloak, do you?”

“I do not, but if you’re nice and stop insulting my size, I can make you something. It would leave us with just one bed, though,” you said, your tone about as snippy as you felt was to be expected after a remark like that.

“I don’t see a problem, there’s plenty of space for both of us on here,” he replied, his eyes holding something just shy of an apology.

“Alright then,” you said, walking over to him and fashioning a cover out of moss for him. It was large enough to cover both of you, but you opted for your cloak as you lay down on the soft, green, makeshift mattress next to him. He’d been right; there was plenty of space – largely because you, of course, hardly took up any.

“Will it always feel like this?” he said suddenly, just as you informed him that you were going to sleep. “The tearing inside, the... pressure?”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” you said softly, turning around to face him and placing a hand on his cheek, his face almost comically large underneath your tiny hand. “You learn to live with the wolf. Right now, you’d do well to remember that you’re not fighting him; there’s simply no point to it, he’s never going away. He just wants to...”

“Play?” Geralt scoffed.

“You’re being sarcastic, but you’re hitting the nail on the head, actually,” you said in earnest. He looked at you, his golden eyes glowing enticingly in the light of the fire. “He wants to get to know you.” Your gentle touch, combined with your words, calmed him down, and he inhaled slowly and deeply. “Get some rest.” On a deep sigh, he closed his eyes, and before long you heard low and loud snores – echoing through the cave...

“Good morning,” he grumbled. Morning? Was it morning? As far as you were concerned, morning came after a good night’s sleep, and you didn’t get that, so morning? Your tiny little behind!

“To you, maybe,” you snapped, “I didn’t sleep a wink. Caves have quite the echo, you know. And you...” He cut you off, surprising you by putting an arm around you and pulling you against him, his lips close to your ear.

“I’m not asleep anymore,” he growled, “why don’t you get some sleep now.” With one swift move, he wrapped his blanket around you too. Why didn’t you get some sleep? Beg your pardon? As if there was even so much as a remote possibility of getting any sleep. It was morning. And what that meant for this man – who, beneath that blanket that you were now under as well, was still very much naked – was that it was really morning.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep with that giant...” He cut you off again, this time with a bout of roaring laughter that echoed through the cave loudly enough to give anyone a serious headache. “Alright, that’s quite enough, Geralt.” You got up and paced to the other side of the cave, where you inspected your supplies. There wasn’t a morsel of food left after last night, and your water supply was dwindling swiftly – especially now that you had to share it. “There’s a town, not too far from here. I will stock up on some supplies and find you some clothes. Please tell me you know how to hunt?”

He scoffed – a sound that was positively dripping with disgruntlement at your implication. “Leave me the bow,” he grunted, “not that those... darts will kill anything, but I’ll give it my best.” He reluctantly took the crossbow from you and inspected it. “Do you have a knife?” You could tell he tried not to laugh when you handed him one of your daggers, and he closed his mouth again, swallowing the comment he had been tempted to make. “This will do just fine.” The smile that adorned his brutish features wasn’t quite genuine, but it was close.

As you gathered your things and made your way to the entrance of the cave, he stopped you: “What do you mean ‘a town not too far from here’? You’ll be walking for hours!”

“I was never going to walk, dearest,” you taunted before shifting, leaving Geralt baffled at the sight of a rather unusually large raven before him. By means of a goodbye, you cawed a few times before taking flight.

You returned to the welcome sight of a flickering light coming from the cave, and the smell of roasting meat. It was still light out, leaving you with plenty of time for foraging, and mending the heap of scraps you carried in your pack now would make a fine activity for the evening. The sight you were met with when you entered the cave, however, left a thing or two to be desired.

“Would it be too much to ask that for the few days we call this cave our home, we do not turn it into a pigsty?” you snapped as you stepped around a pile of entrails. “Did it occur to you to take care of these beasts outside?”

“I was going to clean that up,” Geralt growled at you, “you returned sooner than I expected.”

“Does the phrase ‘as the crow flies’ mean anything to you, Geralt?” you retorted.

“You turned into a raven, not a crow,” he replied, his uncalled for stoicism only fuelling your anger.

“I hardly think you are in a position to be a pedantic arse about this!” you exclaimed, balling your hands into fists in an attempt to prevent yourself from saying something you didn’t mean – in the interest of keeping the peace for a few days, of course. After a deep breath, you felt confident you could speak without insulting him: “Thank you very much for providing us with food. Here are some clothes.” You handed him the things you had bought him, which he gratefully accepted.

“I’m almost done cleaning the hides,” he said with a kind smile, “In case you wanted a bed of your own tonight.” By the end of his sentence, his voice dropped, as if the thought of you sleeping anywhere other than next to him brought him sadness. Without another word, he put on the garments you had given him. Luckily, you had gauged his size quite accurately, and they fit him well. “No undergarments?”

You snorted. “I think I happened upon the place where you phased, are these yours?” You tossed the scraps you had gathered at his feet. After a brief inspection, Geralt nodded. “Well, then it seems like you never felt the need to wear undergarments to begin with, Geralt.” He smiled at you – and in this moment you’d have given everything to just be able to say he smiled up at you, but seated on the floor like he was, his face was just about level with yours. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment to his expression, which irked you – to say the very least.

You ventured out into the forest, looking for something to add to your meal – though you doubted Geralt would have any problem whatsoever with a dinner that consisted solely of meat. During your search, you noticed for the first time how lovely this particular part of the forest truly was. You were lucky enough to find mushrooms, root vegetables and a whole host of berries nearby. From where you stood, you could hear a waterfall, and as you walked towards the sound, you clutched your waterskin and prayed that the water was clean enough to drink. It was! In fact, it was nothing short of absolutely perfect, and the banks of the small creek provided you with even more edible plants and herbs to take with you.

“Darling, I’m home,” you teased as you stepped back into the cave. The pile of guts, you noticed, had been removed – mostly. This night, the two of you prepared your dinner together, while jokes of the domesticity of your current situation became more and more frequent. Outside, a particularly harsh wind had picked up, blowing icy air into the cave.

“Perhaps instead of a second bed, we had better use the hides to shield us from that wind,” you suggested carefully.

“Perhaps instead of making a bed right in front of the entrance of the cave, you could have gone around that corner,” he grumbled, pointing at a part of the cave that would absolutely have been better suited for sleeping, “where we wouldn’t have to worry about freezing.”

“And perhaps,” you snapped, failing to keep your anger out of your voice, “I was utterly exhausted from dragging your gargantuan arse through this forest to keep you from dying!”

“Oh, believe me when I say I appreciate it,” he threw back at you, “but wouldn’t it be such a waste of your precious efforts if we still died...”

“As if that wind would actually kill you!” You rolled your eyes at him while he growled at you, and before you knew it, you found yourself in one of the tensest moments of your life so far.

“It wouldn’t kill you either, but it would be pretty fucking uncomfortable, wouldn’t it?” he sighed impatiently.

The worst part of the argument was that the solution was so mind-numbingly simple that neither of you even dared to pitch the idea of just moving the bed to the other side. Instead, you just kept staring at each other, getting angrier with every passing minute, until – much to your dissatisfaction, you finally couldn’t take it anymore: “Let’s just sleep over there, then!” With a snap of your fingers, the moss disappeared, and with another, it reappeared on the other side. “And lay down and strip, so I can take another look at your injuries.”

“One bed, huh?” Geralt remarked, flashing you that cocky grin you had become far too well acquainted with in the short time you had known the man.

“Shut up,” you replied, “you’re warm. It was quite nice.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you spoke the words, and you were convinced you weren’t wholly able to keep the expression on your face free of the shame you felt.

“I thought so too,” Geralt admitted as he lay down on the bed, nude once more, grinning down at you, seemingly not feeling the same embarrassment that you did regarding the situation.

The wound on his abdomen was as little of a problem as it had been the previous night. This time, the only thing that remained of it was a faint scar that looked far older than it really was. The other injury, however, posed the same problem it had before – only this time you were more than comfortable taking a slightly different approach.

“Do you need me to move my... parts out of the way,” Geralt said mockingly while raising a suggestive eyebrow at you. You sighed deeply. This man was simply impossible!

“Yes, Geralt,” you barked at him, “please move your massive cock, before I do it.” You immediately realized your mistake, as the devious glint in his eyes slowly gained assistance from yet another impossibly smug grin that slowly spread across his face. He did exactly what that look in his eyes foretold: absolutely nothing. “I’m not giving you a happy ending with this healing spell.” You spat your words out at him so harshly that for a moment, his face showed a hint of concern that he had gone too far. “I might castrate you,” you added in a sickly sweet voice that brought the grin back to his face, “but it would be a shame...”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” Geralt chuckled – a sound that was cut short by a grunt when the backs of your fingers brushed past his cock on their way to their destination on his thigh. On the way back, you let your fingertips trail the flesh of his thigh slowly, purposely lengthening the amount of time you spent in contact with his parts. The muscles in his thigh twitched as you ran your fingers over them. This time, you hadn’t made the mistake of straddling his leg, and you cursed yourself for that choice, as in that moment you wanted nothing more than for him to launch you onto his chest again.

“God, you got insanely lucky that whatever bit you even missed the goods, darling,” you muttered before withdrawing your hands, eliciting a deep sigh from Geralt.

“I’m even luckier you found me,” he whispered on a sigh. Without speaking, he held a hand out to you, and you took it. He impatiently tugged at your arm, almost hard enough to make you lose your balance again. Instead, you moved, climbing over him until you were laying to his left, nestled into his side. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “your touch calms me down.”

“Gods, I almost forgot,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief over your apparent indifference. “How are you feeling?”

“Restless, as you predicted,” he replied. “My senses are annoyingly heightened. You smell good. You feel soft.” He turned to face you, wrapping his other arm around you and pulling you against him and laying his forehead against yours, swallowing hard. “I find myself constantly fighting the urge to touch you, taste you...”

“I might be able to help that restlessness, you know?” you said carefully. As clear as it was what other urges he was fighting – judging from the growing pressure against your leg – you found it best to err on the side of caution.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” His voice was only a low growl in your ear.

“That’s disappointing,” you retorted with a challenging tone to your voice. Suddenly, his eyes opened, the look in them fierce – animalistic, even.

“Fine, is that what you want? For me to tear you apart? Don’t think I can’t smell that sweet little cunt of yours,” he snarled before aggressively pressing his lips against yours. The sudden action made you gasp, and Geralt greedily used the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. When he retreated, you eagerly sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan as you nibbled on it – quite contently, too. Without hesitation, he reached for the collar of your blouse, tearing the fabric away unceremoniously. You allowed him to explore every bit of skin on your neck, moaning with each sloppy, open-mouthed kiss he pressed to the sensitive skin.

From there, he swiftly moved on to your chest, sucking more than only your nipples into his mouth with remarkable ease. His teeth grazed over your skin, luring a sharp gasp from you as you dug your fingernails into his shoulders.

Now that it was the sound of your own pleasure bouncing off the walls of the cavern, the sound bothered you far less than when it had been Geralt’s horrible snoring.

He moved his hand down over your body, the materials of your clothes shredding under his brutish touch. It didn’t matter; you’d mend them later, right now all you wanted was to feel Geralt’s hands on you.

You cursed softly under your breath when he ran one of his fingers through your folds. A low grunt slipped from his lips as you kissed and licked his neck and jaw, then a louder moan when you sank your teeth into his flesh as he pushed a finger into your slick core. When he added a second, he groaned – as did you.

“There’s no way,” he muttered, making you giggle. The fact that he seemed to struggle to push that second finger into your tight pussy made you giddy with excitement, but you also eagerly took the opportunity to finally flash Geralt a smug smile of your own. The fact of the matter was that you weren’t some porcelain doll.

“Come on,” you taunted, “if you can’t even manage a second finger, how are you ever going to put that big, fat cock inside of me? I can take it, I promise.” He laughed when you threw your head back as his finger finally slipped all the way into you. “That’s it, now give me some more, big guy,” you hissed into his ear, earning you a surprised look that held concern as well as a measure of admiration.

Geralt hesitantly positioned a third finger at your entrance and pushed it into you gently, stopping immediately when he saw your face contort into an expression of what he rightfully believed to be pain. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his face displaying clear disbelief as you nodded.

“Go slow,” you moaned, “I’m more than alright, love.” Slowly but surely, his finger inched its way into your tight canal. You took a moment to get used to the slight burn, allowing your body to relax around the intruding digits and accommodate instead of reject them, and then you looked into Geralt’s eyes as you began to move your hips, your dripping core coating his hand with your juices.

He mimicked the rhythm of your hips, pumping his fingers in and out of you, making you moan with every thrust. “Don’t stop,” you moaned, meeting his movements time after time, your words punctuated by increasingly ecstatic cries, “you’re going to make me cum.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, and moments later, your muscles were clamping down on his fingers, spasming erratically while you came undone.

“Gods, you’re beautiful like that,” he murmured to you, stroking your hair and chuckling lightly when his praise made you squirm in his arms. “I wonder if you’re as beautiful when that pretty little mouth of yours is completely stuffed with my cock.” His lewd words were almost enough to drive you all the way up to another peak...

With ample enthusiasm, you made your way down his body, trailing your fingers over his muscles and through the hair on his chest and stomach, until you were seated comfortably between his immense thighs, clenching your own as you let your eyes glide over his parts. He was absolutely massive – so big, in fact, that you hesitantly reached a hand out to touch him. You had confidently talked the talk, but walking the walk would perhaps prove a bit more challenging than you had initially anticipated…

As soon as your fingers came into contact with the soft skin of his cock, your doubts melted away, and were replaced by an almost feral longing to devour him. Slowly, you allowed your fingers to travel the length of his erection, mapping every pulsing vein and every ridge you encountered carefully, committing them to memory, paying attention to the area around the tip that made Geralt moan softly on his exhales. Finally, you wrapped your hand around his member, only managing to cover just over half of his girth with your small hand.

“Gods, you’re tiny,” Geralt whispered, letting out a delighted chuckle and reaching for your head, guiding you gently into a position where your chin rested near the base of his cock. “Oh, fuck me...” he said in disbelief as he stared down at you.

“That’s the idea,” you replied before sticking your tongue out and licking all the way from the base to the top of his cock. It wasn’t hard to guess what he’d been so mesmerized by; you were fairly confident his erection was longer than your head. Slowly, you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, carefully keeping an eye on his reactions, before taking him into your mouth.

It was easy to see that Geralt tried his very best to hide his amusement at your frustration when you could barely manage to wrap your lips around his tip – only his very best wasn’t quite good enough, and he failed miserably as he tried to choke back his laughter.

“Where’s that big mouth of yours now that you need it,” he asked with a positively maddening grin on his face, but worse than that smirk was the fact that just as you attempted to pull back to answer him, you felt his hand pushing at the back of your head, leaving you sputtering around his cock. He found it all quite entertaining, while you glared up at him, not at all convinced of the hilarity of the situation. After a few moments, his tone changed, along with the expression on his face. “Come on, little one, I know you can manage a bit more than this,” he said softly as he gently stroked your hair, tangling his fingers lightly in it.

You wanted to get angry with him for calling you that, but you just couldn’t – not only because it was so incredibly true, but also because he said it so sweetly, his voice so full of endearment as he gently urged you to take more of him, that you felt pride and a willingness to please him glow deep within you. With his guidance, you slowly took more of him into your mouth, saliva dripping down his shaft as you inched your way down until you simply couldn’t cope with his girth anymore – and you had still barely made it past the tip.

“A bit more,” Geralt grunted above you – and something in you became instantly wildly annoyed with the man and his ridiculous demands.

Abruptly, you pulled your mouth off of him and snapped: “I can’t dislocate my jaw, I’m not a snake!”

“You’re a druid, right?” he asked suggestively, ignoring the irritation in your voice.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” you stammered. The notion was so utterly ridiculous that it would be foolish at best to dignify it with a response.

Left without options – other than ‘stopping what you were doing altogether and going to sleep, which was just about the last thing you wanted – you continued your efforts, slipping your lips around the head of Geralt’s cock again. This time, you moved your hands over his length while teasing the tip with your tongue, and you soon revelled in the sound of the moans that escaped him.

He didn’t speak, though occasionally he muttered a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath – the low, gravelly sound of which made you clench your thighs together. They were slick with your own arousal and served as an immediate reminder of the ache between your legs. It was impossible now to stop squirming, searching for the friction that would provide you with relief – something Geralt was quick to notice.

He sat up and plucked you off the floor like you weighed nothing – and to him, you most likely truly didn’t – before laying you down on the moss. He kissed you briefly, and then went on his way, kissing down your body until he reached his destination. Strong hands firmly gripped the back of your thighs, behind your knees, pushing your legs open with demanding force.

He took in your scent, the look in his eyes changing from languid bliss to one of pure animalistic need as he inhaled. The hands left your thighs, only to reappear on your hips, gripping you tightly and pulling you closer as he buried his face in your pussy, eagerly tasting your arousal. In this particular area, his size was clearly an advantage, because his tongue covered so much area that he hit all the right places no matter how he went about it. You squirmed in his arms, begging him not to stop, to keep doing what he was doing until you inevitably came hard on his eager tongue.

“Gods, that was fantastic!” you exclaimed, immediately cursing yourself for your enthusiasm as you heard the arrogant chuckle that he let out as you spoke. Your attempt to move away from him was met with resistance, leaving you powerless in his overwhelmingly strong grasp.

“Stay,” he ordered, “I’m not done with you.”

It was the simplest of truths; as soon as the words had left his lips, he trailed around your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you for a moment before flattening the muscle against your swollen little pearl. It didn’t take long for one of his hands to leave your hips, and you felt his fingers at your entrance, eager to plunge deep into your waiting core. This time, they slipped into you with ease, much to Geralt’s satisfaction.

Your climax approached swiftly, and you silently thanked Geralt that he didn’t take the opportunity to be a complete arse about that. Instead, he moaned against your skin as he softly kissed your sensitive clit before moving up again until his lips found yours. Somehow, tasting your own arousal on his capable tongue made you even wetter, and you soon squirmed helplessly as he trapped you beneath his enormous body, unable to move away from him so you could beg him to finally take you.

Eventually, he pulled back, breaking your passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he pulled you along as he sat up on his knees.

“I was going to ask about the logistics,” he chuckled, “but this seems fine?” You nodded in reply to the question he so cleverly – yet poorly – attempted to disguise as a statement. After checking whether you were really sure about this, he held you up with only one hand, using the other to line himself up to your core.

The intense feeling of his thick cock slowly entering your body made you screw your eyes shut and knocked the air out of your lungs as your pussy struggled to accommodate his incredible girth.

“Too much?” he asked, his eyes locked on yours, looking for signs of discomfort.

“No,” you breathed, gritting your teeth as you tried to get used to the fullness, “keep going, I told you I can take it.” You searched his eyes for the feral need you had seen in them before, but you found nothing other than concern – until you caught a glimpse of the immense restraint he was showing. It was then that you realized that it took absolutely everything he had not to slam you down onto his cock – it took everything he had not to give you exactly what you wanted. “Come on, big guy,” you growled into his ear – as close as you could get to it, anyway, “put this big, fat dick in me. I want to feel every inch of you inside my tiny little cunt.”

Your crude words were rewarded with a pained low grunt, his quickening breathing, and the pounding of his heart in his chest so ridiculously loud that you could hear it when you put your head on his shoulder. Somehow, it wasn’t enough yet, and you didn’t let up on your pleading until he grabbed the side of your face with his hand. One quick look into his eyes told you you’d finally reached your goal; your relentless begging had eaten away at the resolve to take this slow, and Geralt bowed his head to roughly crushed his lips against yours, as he suddenly dropped you all the way down onto his cock.

“Oh Gods, yes!” you shrieked – the sound swallowed by his mouth firmly locked over yours. He did you the courtesy of giving you a few – brief – moments before lifting you off his cock again.

Compared to the second one, his first thrust had been gentle, and he only got rougher as he plunged into your core again and again, making you scream with every last move. They were mostly cries of utter bliss spilling from your lips – only very few escaped you out of pain. Fact of the matter was that the slight burn you felt as Geralt’s thick cock stretched your walls to their limits – and slightly beyond, perhaps – only added to your pleasure, heightened your arousal, and steadily drove you towards the edge of yet another freefall into rapture.

He had been scared to hurt you before, but seeing you so completely overcome with pleasure seemed to change something. Before you realized what was happening, your back hit the moss, and he hovered above you. One of his hands captured both of yours and pinned them to the ground above your head, while the other managed to manoeuvre your legs onto his chest. Geralt chuckled as he took notice of the fact that your feet barely reached up to his neck.

“So fucking small,” he growled before pulling out and slamming his hips into yours, “so tight.” The angle was amazing – you weren’t the only one who thought so, judging from the sounds that came from the enormous man that hovered over you, who muttered an almost uninterrupted string of profanities as he pumped his cock in and out of your aching cunt. With every new thrust, your tight, clenching walls pulled him closer and closer to his release. “Fuck, I’m going to flood this tiny little pussy,” he growled into your ear in between ragged and uneven breaths before erratically chasing his pleasure with complete, reckless disregard for your comfort – just the way you liked it. When he came inside of you, you clamped down on him, milking his fat cock for all it was worth, until every drop of his seed had spilled into you.

You knew the worst was yet to come; the moment he would pull out, and your sore muscles would clench around nothing, cum dripping from your battered hole… And indeed; when the pressure slowly disappeared, you winced and cried out in pain as you had oftentimes before – only now, you were pulled into a strong embrace, and kissed gently on your parted lips as you gasped for air.

When you woke up, Geralt was behind you, curled up comfortably around your body, and you sighed deeply. You hadn’t felt this way in a very long time; connected, sheltered, wanted. An outcast to your kin, you knew you would never be able to return ‘home’. Refusing the hand of the man your parents had chosen for you might have been excused after the first time, if you had followed that with long weeks of grovelling and begging his family for forgiveness, but since you had run away, you had naturally fallen from grace completely, while bringing grave shame upon your family. Since that day, you had often wondered if the freedom your choices brought you had been worth the price you had to pay for it. Now you knew. It was.

You yawned and stretched – or at least; you attempted to do so, but you were captured in the iron grip of Geralt’s embrace, and the strong arm draped over your waist weighed heavy on your body. It was impossible to move. Absentmindedly your fingers traced the bulging veins in his thick forearm while you remembered how those same arms had lifted you up so effortlessly the night before.

For a while, you basked in the glorious aftermath of your… you’d have called it ‘lovemaking’, perhaps, if you had any indication that he felt for you what you were starting to feel for him. For now, ‘tryst’ would have to suffice. You clearly felt the evidence of his presence in your body – you were sore all over, particularly there where you had so gracefully taken the brutal beating that had seemed such a good idea at the time. Not that you regretted your decision, far from it, even! It was rather the case that you had forgotten how taxing your particular proclivity for sizeable appendages could be. And you were sure you’d gladly forget again, in a few short days.

After some time, you really couldn’t stay put any longer. For one because your stomach was growling, and also because – and this matter was indubitably the more pressing of the two – nature was calling. Next to you, your behemoth prison keeper was fast asleep, somehow snoring considerably less annoyingly than the night before.

“Geralt,” you whispered, to no avail, leaving you with no other option than to raise your voice. “Geralt!” Unsurprisingly, that did not work either. It would simply have been far too easy if it had. It was obvious to you that kicking this man anywhere would hurt you more than it would hurt him. He carried both werewolf and orc genes, for crying out loud! You squirmed in his arms, and when that yielded no result either, you cried out. “Geralt, for the love of the Gods, you don’t even have to wake up, but please let go of me!”

“No,” he muttered, voice thick with his continued slumber, “don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, you grandiose fool,” you chuckled, “but I do need to… step outside for a moment. I will be back in a minute.”

With a sigh that was indicative of great reluctance, he lifted his arm off you, allowing you to get dressed and set out to do what needed done. Now that you were free of his grasp – though you wouldn’t dream of abandoning him – you scurried through the woods for a moment, in search of something to still the growling of your stomach.

Your quest for food was successful, but as you began to make your way back to the cave, something grabbed your arm pinning you against a tree.

“What do we have here?” the figure – cloaked, of course – spoke in the Elven tongue. It was a dialect you weren’t quite familiar with, but you managed to understand his words just fine as he spoke of his intentions – malevolent, naturally. With your hands pinned in place, you were unable to wield magic, and thus utterly defenceless against the man, leaving you with two options. The first was to suffer his abuse quietly, as you had done countless times before as you travelled the woods by yourself, the other – and preferable – option was to cry out as loud as you could and hope that help would come swiftly.

Under different circumstances, you would have uttered a general cry for help, and though you were certain that that was exactly what you had set out to do, what came out of your mouth was Geralt’s name, loudly, the sound filled with terror and agony.

“Shut up!” the man before you called out, pressing a dagger to your throat. A single tear escaped your eye as a familiar incantation was followed by the growth of vines from the tree, shackling you to it. Now that the man had a hand free, he let go of your hands and trailed your arms until he reached your face. He gently caressed your cheek – a gesture that made you feel sick to your stomach. Then, before his hand could trail further down, another figure appeared behind him. You were fairly confident it was Geralt, but before you could make sure, you were forced to close your eyes as blood splashed in your face.

When you opened them again, you saw the lifeless body of the elf at your feet – a head shorter than he’d been when he’d been threatening to harm you. You stared at the dead man on the ground, letting your hands drop to your sides as the vines disappeared now that their conjurer was no longer among the living.

“G-Geralt… You… You killed him,” you stammered, still attempting to process what had just happened.

“I did,” Geralt growled as he stepped closer. You felt his large hand, heavy on your cheek as he turned your face towards his and kneeled. “Don’t touch what’s…” His voice trailed off, his unfinished sentence heightening the tension between you.

“Say it, Geralt,” you whispered, “please.”

“No one can touch what’s mine,” he snarled softly, staring intently into your eyes. Without thinking, you lunged for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pressing your lips to his so fiercely that it made him laugh before he made an effort to match your fiery passion. When he broke the kiss, the look in his eyes had changed. “Are you scared of me?” he asked hoarsely, to which you answered by shaking your head decisively.

“At the very most I’m covered in elf blood, and I’d like something done about that,” you said, stepping away from Geralt to inspect the elf. When you bent down to check the body, Geralt asked what you were doing. “Free cloak,” you answered as you took the thing off the man’s shoulder. The violence from before had left it with a pretty large tear in the fabric, but it was nothing you couldn’t fix.

“That’s stealing,” Geralt mused softly.

You shrugged. “Why? He’s got no use for it now.” Beside the cloak, you found some rations and money. Geralt allowed you to grab his hand and pull him along to the stream, near the waterfall, where you quickly discarded your clothes and stepped into the chilly water. “Come here,” you called to Geralt, who hesitantly followed.

“It’s far too cold for this,” he grumbled as he helped you wash the blood off your body first, and your clothes after that. There was a hint of something else to his voice; a kind of confusion, though you could not quite put your finger on what the cause of it was.

“I’m sure we can find a way to warm up,” you said as you stepped out of the water, the cold breeze raising goosebumps all over your body. Geralt graciously offered you his shirt – a floor-length gown on you that would in no way stay on your shoulders, but at least it was warmer than being fully exposed to the cold air.

That day, as well as the next two, was uneventful; hunting and gathering, the pile of animal hides slowly growing in a corner of the space you occupied.

“We could stay, you know,” you spoke softly one night, as your fingers drew patterns through the hair on his chest and your empty pussy ached after yet another round of passionate lovemaking.

“Here?” Geralt asked, looking around the dark space.

“I know it’s not much, but we could make it into something?” you pleaded. “I haven’t had a home in a while, and I think the same applies to you.”

“My home will be wherever you are, my love,” Geralt whispered, as if that was all there was to it.

#henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia #geralt x you #fantasy au #werewolf geralt

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode five :: 99 PROBLEMS.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔comeback: download has started.

fc – wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕none.

☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

y/n: not to freak you guys out but i knew all along

my baby lando: FYM YOU KNEW ???

babygirl alex: y/n 😁 i swear to god

honey badger: wait

honey badger: what do you mean you knew

chili!: ????

chal eclair: ^^^^

girlfriend kika: babe

girlfriend kika: i need u to explain before pierre loses his shit bc he’s bubbling rn 🙏🏻🤍

y/n: okay hold on y’all listen

wifey lily: 👂🏻👂🏻👂🏻👂🏻

y/n: i always had this sneaking suspicion that some bullshit was going but every time i’d ask him about nothing would come of it

y/n: so i was like maybe i’m the problem 😀

y/n: then i found lipstick in our bathroom and i was like yo ??? tf is this and max said it was his sister’s

y/n: so i was like oh calm

y/n: bc victoria would come over sometimes

y/n: then i found out he cheated the first time

princess george: fIRST TIME????

angel carmen: WHAT DO YOU MEAN FIRST TIME

chili!: HE CHEATED MORE THAN ONCE???

chal eclair: hOLD ON YALL IM TRYNA UNDERSTAND

y/n: yes 😭

y/n: caught him on a call with her being all lovey and shit and we got in a fight bc of it

y/n: and i let it slide bc i thought he would learn + he cried his eyes out

alabono: how is HE gonna cry for cheating 😟

honey badger: WAIT

my baby lando: fuck was he crying for ???

chal eclair: he cried ??

babygirl alex: literally what

honey badger: WAIT YALL

honey badger: Y/N YOU LET THAT SLIDE ???

y/n: I USED TO LOVE HIM OKAY.

chili!: i just sighed so hard man

y/n: hold on there’s more

PIERRE GASLYYYY: MORE ??

PIERRE GASLYYYY: y/n…

my baby lando: bae what is this…

chal eclair: what else did he do then damn

y/n: the bitch was in my bed

babygirl alex: WOAHHHHHHHH

angel carmen: now hold on, hOLD ON NOW.

girlfriend kika: i screamed

honey badger: ouuuuu it’s gonna get violent rq

y/n: i found them cuddled up, clearly post fuck, in my bed, listening to my music and guess what

chili!: BRO 😭

chal eclair: WHAT OH MY GOD

my baby lando: ¿¿¿

y/n: HER KID WALKS IN BEHIND ME EATING MYYYYYYY ICE CREAM

y/n: IN MYYYYY HOUSE

princess george: see this is where i personally would’ve swung at everyone

PIERRE GASLYYYY: LISTENING TO YOUR MUSIC???????

wifey lily: NAHHHHHH MAN

angel carmen: i’m not even kidding

angel carmen: i’m deadass speechless

y/n: i need all of u to come to my house immediately

y/n: there’s so much more i need to tell y’all

chili!: Y/N.

chili!: WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERES MORE.

y/n: ….

chal eclair: answer the question bae 🤍

y/n: well

my baby lando: oh my god

y/n

♡ liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 11,340,293 more.

y/n i could see right through it

1,302,293 comments.

username EEYUH. EEYUH.

theweeknd see right through it

➜ username spill immediately.

➜ username abel 😁 whatcha doing here bae 🤍

➜ username eXPLAINNNNN

➜ username my delulu is saying those are lyrics

➜ username ur delulu is deluluing

username i’m.

username MOTHER ?????

username SLAYED THE HOUSE DOWN

henrycavill 😍

➜ username SIR ???

➜ username hELLO

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username ate soooooo hard

madisonbeer mommy?

➜ username OHHHHH

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➜ username MADS????

username okay ma’am.

username UHM DEVOURED???

champagnepapi 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

➜ username why is the entire industry in the comments 😭

➜ username oh ur just like me fr 🙏🏻

➜ username sir this ur second time here, and i am very delusional. i will assume shit.

➜ username LMFAO

username i want you, sOOOOOO BAD???

username mhm. mhm. now that’s what i’m talking about.

charles_leclerc ICON 🗣

➜ username EEYUP

➜ username YESSSSS

username me wait for K to copy her

username whew miss y/l/n

username someone on twitter said thank god for ur parents, I too, say thank god for them.

bellahadid thank god you stuck to music

➜ username SOOO REAL

➜ username no bc y/n stays eating the gworls up

➜ username speak ur truth bella

carlossainz55 niña bonita ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍😍😍

landonorris my mother everyone.

➜ username OUR mother

➜ landonorris i don’t share 🧡

➜ username HDIAOWKDJAP

carmenmmundt sexy.

➜ georgerussell63 oh swear?

lilymhe oh.

➜ alexalbon babe ??

➜ lilymhe no babe look away

francisca.cgomes i moaned ngl

➜ pierregasly HELLO ¿¿

➜ username kika is honestly the realest

➜ username no bc you and me kika 🤞🏽

➜ pierregasly you’re MY gf ???

➜ francisca.cgomes nahhh….

➜ y/n can confirm 😁

➜ pierregasly ????????????????

y/n added to their story!

#f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #pierre gasly x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #george russell x reader #max verstappen x reader

[valsarchives]

can you do a insta au w gracie abrams as the face claim! any story line u want 💓

a/n: hope you like it! someone asked me to make an insta au about these rumors and I mixed it with this i hope you don’t mind! i’ll make second part for this.

Face claim: Gracie Abrams

part two

my girl - t.c

rollingstone

liked by iansomerhalder, emmaroberts, henrycavill and 10,593,105 others

rollingstone we are back with our favorite lady yourusername!!! we had an amazing conversation (some questions we asked might be what you wondered 👀) don’t forget to check it out! Link in bio.

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yourusername 🩶

*liked by rollingstone

ynmybaby MY GIRLLLL

username994 wowza ❤️‍🔥

yourfan385 my girl looks so fine!!!!!

ynsbabygirl can’t believe timothee prefered some plastic over this masterpiece

randomuser wait what?? They broke up?!?!

yourfan593 yeah they broke up 2 weeks ago and now he is rumored to be dating kylie jenner since january. If that’s true that means timothee cheated on her

timmytimmy he would never do that

ynsbabygirl well, he would never date kylie too right? but now entertainmenttonight says they’re officially dating 🤷🏼‍♀️

kissmeyn mommy 🥵

more comments

ynlndaily

2,395,275 likes

ynlndaily I really didn’t want to believe he would do something like that but idk if I can defend him anymore.

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username560 I can’t believe it

timmyfan04 This is just a PR but they’re talking badly about timmy :(

username94729 well, he shouldn’t let that happen then

tchalmtfann I won’t believe this shit until there is a valid proof or some pictures of them together

randomuser noooooooo

ynsbabygirl idk if this is true but if it is that means Y/n made the right decision

timmytimmy pls tell me this is a joke

timmyfan3 Timmy nooo

yourfan0 he looks like her son💀

ynmybaby I just watched Rolling Stone interview. They asked about her relationship with Timmy and she said they ended it on good terms, she said “We didn’t break up for any dramatic reasons, we were so busy with our careers and we didn’t have time for each other and the relationship wasn’t going well because of that so we decided to end it. We still care for each other.”

username59275 istg these celebs always break up for being so busy for relationship. Give me the real reason!!

kissmeyn yes you’re right about that but Y/n always explained why did she break up with all of her exes, she never lied once so you don’t have any right to say that for her

username59275 yeah, you’re right i guess

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tchalametdaily

1,494,285 likes

tchalametdaily Timothée spotted in New York, filming a commercial for Chanel directed by Martin Scorsese.

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timmytimmy OH MY GOD 🥵

tchalafann mom, your girl is in love with this man

calametfan5 🛐

timotheefan15 GUYSSS THERE IS A VIDEO ON TIKTOK! A FAN YELLS “TIMMY ARE YOU REALLY DATING KYLIE” AND HE SAID NO!!!!

timmytea WAIT WHAT

randomuser I NEED THAT VIDEO RN

timotheefan15 I’m sending you the link!!

username594 ME TOO PLS

timotheefan15 sure!

more comments

enews

7,495,395 likes

enews After a video by jessielyn_ on TikTok went viral, everyone talks about newly ended relationship these two shared. Since Timothée still follows her on Instagram (he only follows one person and that’s her) and likes some of her posts, the fans are still hopeful for them.

comments are disabled

yourusername

liked by tchalamet, johnnydepp, kidcudi and 13,395,296 others

yourusername So ready for you Coachella!

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ynmybaby I’M SO GLAD I HAVE A CHANCE TO SEE YOU MY GIRL!!! I’M SO EXCITED

yourusername I’ll be waiting hon 💋

ynmybaby KDJFSKJDKSJD AHHHHH 😩😩😩

yourfan385 SO EXCITED

florencepugh go girl!!!!!

pauline.chalamet ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

kissmeyn i love you so much it hurts 😭

timmytimmy you look stunning!!!!

tchalafann I wonder if Timmy will be there, he said he will definitely come before they broke up :/

randomuser what if he shows up with kylie 🤯

timotheefan494 he literally said he wasn’t dating her

randomuser oh right!

zendaya THAT’S MY GIRL

hero_ft you’re the reason I’m attending Coachella this year

henrycavill same.

username5947294 HENRY IS ATTENDING COACHELLA?????????

yourfan0 I WASN’T EXPECTING THIS AT ALL WHAAATTT

random_username THIS IS TOO MUCH 😭

tomholland2013 Let’s gooo!!!!

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tchalamet’s story

#timothée chamalet #timothee chamalet #x reader #instagram au #timothee chalamet x reader #celebrity reader #timothee chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x y/n #smau #timmy chalamet #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x you #timothee x you

[siriustaylorsversion]

London Boy- louis partridge x reader social media au

yourname.official

yourname.official I LOVE YOU, LONDON!!! liked by conangray, joelocke and 2,09,300 others.

conangray so... other than blasting london boy in your car, did you meet any cute ones?

sadiesink_ i love you, but next time i need front row tickets.

youname.official me too ig? sadie_theloml that night was sparkling, don't you let it go 🥺

taylornation you're so GORGEOUS!

yourname.official our song for all the london boys conangray zendaya yeah but, i LOVE your american smile...

youname.collective when you know you're that girl. conangray

conangray i had the time of my life...with you 💖 liked by yourname.official, sadiesink_ and 1,98,940 others.

yourname.official i couldn't be more BLESSED to have you on stage with me. you're my heart, my soul and the reason for the teardrops on my guitar... i adore you and can't wait for our... project together?

sadiesink_ i wanted to be there too, but my dumbass became an actor. STILL you couldn't count me in on your next *project*?! yourname.official NO, YOU'RE AMAZING, my love louispartridge in sadiesinks_'s words...loved our work on the *project* lovin.mills WAIT, WHAT PROJECT?!

zendaya my beautiful besties 🥺💘

florence.bysink I ALREADY KNOW I'M IN LOVE WITH THE PROJECT EVEN THOUGH I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS.

milliebobbybrown the *project* has found it's feet again.

millie.y/nlove is it...what i think it is?! enolaholmesmovie umm....

enolaholmesmovie

enolaholmesmovie Tis' i... once again? Now streaming, Enola Holmes SEASON 2, only on Netflix! liked by yourname.official, millebobbybrown and 4,89,400 others.

yourname.official i am in LOVE with this cast

milliebobbybrown i am in LOVE with you louispartridge we LOVE you too!!! millie.y/nlove it IS what i thought it was, wtf?!

louispartridge this cast is BASICALLY written by the writers of friends... -yourname.official

yourname.official and i am chandler! henrycavill Pretty sure that's me. louispartridge it's ME milliebobbybrown it's probably not me.

sadiey/n.forevermore okay netflix, i guess i am subscribing to you again.

yourname.official as the chandler bing of the cast, i appreciate it. louispartridge no I AM the chandler, and yourname.official is my monica. yourname.official i am NOT monica. louispartridge your ocd says something else... florence.bysink did no one notice he said HIS monica?!

louispartridge

louispartridge was forced to post this at 2am. liked by yourname.official, zendaya and 2,03,080 others.

youname.official so it's safe to say YOU'RE the monica to MY chandler.

florence.bysink shslbsdnjhkg YES.

milliebobbybrown so who am i then?

yourname.official the rachel to our chandler and monica 🥺 zendaya our?! florence.bysink THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING.

yourname.official

yourname.official these beauties came to surprise me today 🖤 liked by louispartridge, zendaya and 2,09,890 others.

louispartridge i think we've established that i look the coolest here.

yourname.official alright, would love to hear your music now... oh wait, there's none. louispartridge your sarcasm is showing, chandler. maintain it. yourname.official isn't that my job? in chandler's words.. i like maintaining you (and it). milliebobbybrown when i tell you he BLUSHED.

florence.bysink

florence.bysink CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHY LOUIS ADDED THIS TO HIS STORY AND TAGGED yourname.official?! liked by millliebobbybrown and 13,09,400 others

sadiesmills I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourname.fandom i hope they are together, i mean he makes her really happy!!

yourname.official

yourname.official address the letters to the holes in my butterfly wings... liked by louispartridge, sadiesink_ and 3,09,080 others.

comments on this post have been limited.

louispartridge

louispartridge nothing’s forever, nothing's as good as it seems, but i hope you know how proud i am you were created. liked by yourname.official, conangray and 2,08,600 others.

comments on this post have been limited.

#louis partridge #louis #oliviarodrigo #smau #olivia #socialmediaau #swiftie #londonboy #louis partridge x reader #louispartridgexreader #louis x reader #louis partridge x y/n #SOUR #siriustaylorsversion #olivia rodrigo x reader #taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #louis partridge fluff #louis partridge smau #sadie sink #sadie sink x reader #millie bobby brown #millie bobby brown x reader #olivia rodrigo

[iceman55555]

Henry Cavill Arbeitet an Warhammer 40k.An einer Serie,die hoffentlich einschlägt wie eine Bombe.Die Serie stammt von einem Tabletop Spiel ab.Das Spiel ist von Games Workshop.Wer Raumschlachten und übermenschliche Krieger mit tollen Rüstungen mag und eine Weltraumschlacht mit Außerirdischen,wird diese Serie mögen.Ich selber hab das Tabletop Spiel und Gewisse Videospiele gespielt und ich liebe es.Diese Space Marines mit verschieden Geschichten ihres Ordens und dem Imperator sind eine tolle Geschichte und eine Sehr umfangreiche dazu.Es wird hoffentlich Episch werden,weil Henry Cavill kennt sich mit Warhammer 40k sehr gut aus,also wird er hoffentlich in eine sehr Coole Rolle schlüpfen die angemessen ist.Ich hoffe auf Marneus Calgar von den Ultramarines,Roboute Guilliman Primarch der Ultramrines oder sogar Uriel Ventris von den Ultramarines. Es wird interessant werden,was er daraus macht.

#HenryCavill #W40k #Spacemarines #Ultramarines #Amazon

Henry Cavill is working on Warhammer 40k. On a series that will hopefully hit like a bomb. The series is derived from a tabletop game. The game is from Games Workshop. Anyone who likes space battles and superhuman warriors with great armor and a space battle with aliens will like this series. I myself have played the tabletop game and certain video games and I love it. These Space Marines with different stories of their order and the Emperor are a great story and a very extensive one at that. Hopefully it will be epic because Henry knows Cavill He's very familiar with Warhammer 40k, so hopefully he'll slip into a very cool role that's appropriate. I'm hoping for Marneus Calgar from the Ultramarines, Roboute Guilliman Primarch from the Ultramrines, or even Uriel Ventris from the Ultramarines. It will be interesting to see what he does with it.

#HenryCavill W40k Spacemarines Ultramarines Amazon

[itstheimpossibledream]

Birthday Bear 🐻

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Daddy!Dom Henry, Smut, Masterbation, Female orgasm, Riding

Summary : A little bit of a blurb , it’s Henry’s bday and he gets you, his longterm girlfriend a gift🎁 that’s secretly for him.

Dinner was nice, it was oddly relaxing to be able to finally spend time together.

He comes back into the room handing you a stuffed bear as you finish taking off your heels.

“But it’s your birthday” you look at him bewildered “why are you giving me a gift?” You’re completely confused by his gesture but, think it best not to refuse him.

“O it is for me.” He smirks, his accent seeming even more prevalent and cocky than normal.

From the look on his face you could tell something was up, you just weren’t sure how far it was supposed to go.

He sat in the dark leather chair at the corner of the room,the smugness in his face practically unbearable.

“What?” You ask confused. You can feel yourself blushing, but you don’t want to show him how turned on you are amidst his silence,just from his presence. You squeezed your thighs together and you saw him hold back a laugh.

“ I want to watch you ride it.” His tongue juts out over the bottom of his top lip as his thick fingers tap the arm of the chair.Your eyes dart around the room, unsure of how best to play this.

He gets up from the chair, crossing the room to you, he faces you as he runs the pads of his fingertips against the backs of your arms. While you are still unsure of his request, you allow him to unzip your dress. His fingers gingerly ease it off of your shoulders. As you work it down, over your hips he chuckles.

“Show me on the bed.”He whisperers calmly in your ear before smacking you hard on the ass.

You scramble to the mattress in your underwear and sit atop the stuffed bear.

He had a drink on the stand next to his chair, a small glass of scotch he had poured for himself earlier. He drank it while watching you, drinking you in too.

“ I can wait until you stop pretending to be shy.” He laughs, looking down into his glass.

It wasn’t that you were shy, simply that you had trouble being slutty without guidance.

But he knew that. “ Hump it babe. Show me how much of a good little slut you are.” He calmly said.

You feel your hips slowly begin to grind down on the stuffing and while you feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment you couldn’t help but be turned on.

You allow yourself to let go, getting into the rhythm of your hips under his watchful gaze.

“So you like being watched?” he asked

You don’t respond,focusing more on not allowing yourself to get immediately carried away

“You like being watched and knowing how hard I get watching you don’t you?” he asks again

You can feel the pool of wetness you’re creating between yourself and the bear and you start to whine, wanting to come. He sits down his drink, as his opposite hand goes to his crotch. You see him working himself over, through his pants and want nothing more than to crawl over to him, and have him use you.

“Answer me.” he said,undoing his belt buckle and revealing himself to you.

“Yes Daddy” you managed to reply instinctively before your breath caught in your throat.It always did when you saw him like this, constantly surprised by both his length and girth.

His smile grew, watching your expression. “ You look so good like that princess.”

“Daddy I want to cum.” you cry out.

“Well you have to wait sweetheart.”

“Please daddy, please let me come.” you beg.

“If you cum I’m going to have to fuck you until I’m done.” he whispers,in a voice that sends a shiver down your body to your core.

#smut #henrycavill x y/n #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #henrycavill fandom #henrycavill au #henry cavill edit #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill rp #henry cavill superman #henry cavill reader #henrycavill fic #the witcher #geralt x ofc #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt fanfic

[gothicwidowsworld]

Sherlock Holmes #1

“Says here you’ve got a companion?” Mycroft announced to his brother his eyebrows farrowed in confusion. “A Dr John Watson.” Mycroft continued reading the newspaper. The Times was normally most reliable but apparently that had changed overnight. “You don’t even know a John Watson.” Mycroft added, shaking his head. “Yes well you don’t know everything Mycroft.” Sherlock responded struggling to contain his laughter. “Well who are they?” Mycroft asked hating the fact Sherlock clearly knew more than he was letting on, it was bad enough when it was about one of his stupid cases. But this small irrelevant piece of information was nothing and therefore Sherlock had a duty to share it.

“What are you arguing about now?” Y/N asked bringing in the fresh pot of tea. “This John Watson” Sherlock teased standing to help his wife carry the items. “Oh? What about him?” Y/N asked confused Sherlocks mischievous smile worrying her. “Oh just that Mycrofts feeling a little left out that he doesn’t know the good Doctor.”

“We could always introduce you, dear brother," Sherlock offered, sipping his tea. “Well why not.” Mycroft agreed the curiosity now getting the best of him.

“Hello Mr Holmes my name John Watson.” Y/N said offering a hand in introduction “But you’re a woman?!” Mycroft objected. Rolling her y/e/c orbs Y/N scowled “thank you for that great deduction Mycroft. Nice to see the intelligence genes didn’t just go to Sherlock and Enola.”

“But why?” Mycroft asked, perplexed. “Well people like mystery books and what better than real life cases. Plus of course I had to write it. Sherlock couldn’t be trusted; he'd make everything sound a hell of a lot more complicated. That and I think it would inflate his already large ego. At least if I write it he can’t enlarge his omniscient personality.” The woman explained happily. “But John Watson?” The eldest Holmes continued. “Yes as you so politely pointed out before I’m a woman and it’s not exactly a Mrs Beeton cook book.” Y/N sighed it wasn’t fair she needed a masculine pen name in order to share her works with the world. But it’s okay Y/N managed to sneak in the last laugh even if nobody ever noticed. Dear Reader Journaled by a Woman. Dr JW. Rather clever really.

#gothicwidow #au imagines #imagines #gif imagines #au gif imagines #x reader #netflix imagines #british imagines #movie imagines #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #Sherlock Holmes imagines #henry cavill #Henry cavill imagines #Henry Cavill x reader #Sherlock holmes x wife reader #henrycavill!sherlock #enola holmes imagines #enola holmes x reader #enola Holmes 2020 #Dr John Watson

[viking-raider]

A Witcher's Legacy - PART TWO: OPEN SECRET

Summary: Being a Witcher is a daily struggle, so is being a parent. Things become even more difficult, when word reaches the wrong people that Geralt of Rivia has a son with you.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Parts: I

Warning: M - Witcher!AU, Soft & Protective!Geralt, Language, Assault, Attempted Breaking & Entering, Fighting, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Scrappy!Jaskier, Uncle!Jaskier, Magic Use, Nicknames, Mention of Child Endangerment(?), Witcher Hate, Memories, Mention of Past Pregnancy, Fluff, More Witcher Characters - SMUT -> Oral (F Receiving), Love Bites, Body Positivity, Partner Worship, Penetration (M-F), Orgasm

Inspiration: A subject from my story, A Witcher’s Destiny, Season Two of Netflix’s the Witcher and a Quest in The Witcher 3!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to be added A Witcher’s Legacy Tag List, please message me!

I also have the story on my AO3

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

“I have seen it with my own eyes! The Witcher and his whore have a babe together, and it's rumored to be of both their blood!”

“How is this possible!?” Stregobor barked, leaning forward in his seat. “Witchers are impotent, their mutation makes them so! We all know it.” He said, looking about the room of other gathered mages.

“Are we sure that this baby is the White Wolf's?” Another of the mages asked, drumming their fingers on the arm of their chair. “The woman could have simply been with child and the Witcher may have claimed it as his.”

“Yes, where did this rumor start?” Another questioned. “Where did you hear it, Jordi?”

“A visitor at the Temple of Melitele.” Jordi answered, as he stood in the middle of the ringed chairs the mages sat in. “He claims to have heard the Witcher speaking to the priestess, Nenneke, almost a year ago now, about how he was assuredly the father of the babe and that he had no reason to believe her infidelity to him. The priestess asked how such a thing was possible, also stating the fact that Witchers are sterile, and the woman was at this time clearly and undeniably pregnant. The Witcher Geralt, replied by telling her, he wasn't entirely sure, but had a suspicion.”

“And what was that suspicion?” Stregobor asked, lifting his bushy eyebrow.

“The visitor couldn't say, because he was found to be spying on the conversation at that point and was thrown out of the temple.”

“This is troublesome, Stregobor. If the Witcher is capable of reproducing, it means they can create more Witchers, without the need of alchemical solutions. If the Continent finds this out, it could spell mass panic.”

“I am well aware of that, Artorius.” Stregobor replied, scratching at his thick, white beard. “We must find out if this claim is true first, and if it is, if the child is truly the Witcher's true born son, then we must destroy it.”

You bounced your son as he cried in your arms, at a loss for why he was upset. You had changed his pamper and fed him, and he wasn't interested in sleeping. There was nothing you could tell that was causing him pain either.

“Please, little one.” You begged him, rubbing the back of his head with your palm and pacing the inn room you and Geralt had gotten in the town you were stopping at. “Fuck.” You snapped, as a loud banging sounded on the door, causing your son to scream even louder.

“Yes?” You asked, pulling the room door open.

“Everyone on this floor is complaining about the wailin'.” A tall and burly male on the other side growled down at you.

“I'm so sorry.” You frowned back at the innkeeper, swaying on your feet. “I'm really trying to calm him, I don't know what's wrong and I've tried everything. My husband is away with a job, so I have no help with him.” You explained to him, meekly.

The man let out a rumbling growl at you and walked away, you sighed and closed the door, returning to your pacing in the small room.

“Come now, Lycus.” You cooed at him. “If we don't quiet down, your father is going to come back from killing his monster to us standing out on the street with our things, because we've been kicked out on a noise complaint.” You tried convincing him. “And, there it is now!” You added, as another knock sounded on the door and opened it again, this time finding a woman standing out in the hallway.

“Yes, I know. The noise.” You nodded at her.

“No, no.” She shook her head at you. “My husband, the innkeeper, has sent me up to help you with the babe.” She explained to you. “I've had six barns myself.” She told you, smiling softly, seeing the exhausted and at-a-loss look on your face.

Your shoulders slumped with relief. “Oh gosh, thank you.” You sighed, stepping back and letting her step into the room with you.

“Do you have a baby blanket for the wee thing?” She asked, lifting a brow at you.

“Yes.” You nodded, going over to the bed and picking up a soft blanket that you made yourself.

“Here.” She held her hand out for it and you handed it over. “Spread it out like this.” She instructed you, laying it out on the bed. “Now,” She turned towards you and held out her arms. “May I?” She asked, her eyebrows lifting.

You looked at her for a moment, no one had held your son other than yourself, Geralt, Jaskier, Nenneke and Vesemir since the day he had entered the world, but the woman had said she reared six kids into the world and if it helped whatever ailed your sweet boy, then—you held him out to her. She took him from you with skilled hands, maneuvering him onto the blanket. You watched her closely as she folded and tucked the blanket in around his squirming body.

“The swaddle.” She said, finishing and gently picking him up, then held him out to you. “Does the trick.” She smiled, as your son slowly calmed down.

You sighed with relief, almost bursting into to tears, as you cradled him in the nook of your arm, smiling into his tears stained little face. “Thank you so very much.” You told her, looking back up at her.

“You're a lifesaver.”

She chuckled at you, shaking her head. “He's very handsome.” She commented, gently rubbing his cheek with the back of her index knuckle.

“Thank you.” You grinned, swaying and looking proud of your son. “He's just like his father.” You added, with just as much pride.

“I'll let you rest now.” She said, nodding her head to you and went to the door, squeaking as she ran into Geralt in the hall.

“Are you all right?” Geralt asked, hurrying into the room, his gold eyes examining you and the baby.

“We're more than fine, now.” You smiled at him.

“What happened?” He asked, closing the door and the gap between you.

“He got incredibly fussy after you left, and nothing I did calmed him down.” You explained to him, leaning forward to gently rest your now sleeping son on the bed. “People on the floor, understandably, started to complain.”

Geralt looked at the door over his shoulder and growled.

“The innkeeper came up to inform me of the complaints, and I informed him of the problem.” You continued, turning back to Geralt and started unstrapping his leather armor from his body. “And, I suppose, instead of kicking us out, he went to get his wife and she helped me calm him down, by showing me how to swaddle him.”

Geralt looked at the sleeping infant, burrito wrapped in the soft, mint-green blanket and smiled. “That was very kind of them. They could very well have kicked us out of the inn.” He said, looking down at you, as you set his armor down, not quite used to the hospitality.

“They could have.” You agreed, nodding. “How was your monster?” You asked, lifting a brow at him, before turning to fill a bowl with water from a pitcher and dipped a cloth in it.

“A pesky selkiemore.” He replied, as you started rubbing the wet cloth over his bloody hands, washing off the selkiemore's blood and guts off his knuckles.

“Fun.” You grinned up at him, dipping the cloth back into the water and wringing it out, before reaching up to clean off a smear on the side of his neck. “Seems you have it all in your cracks and crevices.” You commented, seeing bits stuck in the Witcher's white hair.

“You know me.” Geralt chuckled, grinning at you.

“Mmhm, I do.” You nodded, smiling back at him. “Sit yourself down, Witcher.” You said, motioning to a chair by the small fireplace in the room.

Humming, Geralt pulled off his boots and moved to sit down, while you removed a brush from Roach's saddle bag on the floor by the bed. You stood behind Geralt, gently removing the tie from his hair, then started to methodically brush it, being careful with any knots you found or bits of the monster's blood or guts that matted his hair, using your fingers to detangle a few of them. Geralt allowed himself to relax under your care, his shoulders and back slouching, and extending his feet towards the flames of the fire in the grate; his eyes falling shut.

You smiled at him, it was always nice to see Geralt relax and let his guard down, as rare as it was. Only the most trusted of people were gifted with Geralt closing his eyes and falling asleep. Especially while touching him, and you were at the very top of that list of rare people.

You kiss the top of his head. “Come to bed, me'bleidd.” You whispered into his white and silver strands, resting your hands on his strong shoulders and gently squeezing, not wishing to startle him awake, knowing the detriment it can cause if he was woken suddenly.

“Hm.” The sound rumbled deep inside his chest, before he stirred on the chair, flexing his ankles and toes, as he took a deep breath, dropping his head back to look up at you. “I ordered the use of the tub in the washroom.” He informed you, blinking slowly, much like a cat.

“Well, off with you.” You told him, kissing his forehead.

“It's not for me.” He sighed, putting his boots back on and standing up. “It's for you.”

“Why?” You frowned at him, tilting your head.

“You need to relax and have some time to yourself.” He said, undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Nothing better than a tub of warm and soapy water to do the trick.” He smiled over at you. “Especially since we've been bathing in cold streams and lakes.” He laughed, going to the door of the room.

“I'll have the innkeeper bring up the water and fill the tub for you, then I'll watch our little one.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, as he opened the door, a soft smile on your lips.

Geralt smiled at you, crossing back over to you and kissing you intimately on the lips for a long moment, before breaking it off and going out, going downstairs to the bustling taproom of the inn and found the innkeeper speaking to one of the patrons by the door. He politely waited for the two men to finish talking, but he made it known that he wished to speak with him next.

“What can I do for you, Witcher?” The innkeeper asked, approaching him, folding his beefy arms over his chest.

“Well, firstly...” Geralt replied, planting his feet. “Thank you for helping my wife with our son. We both appreciate it.” He told him, tipping his head in a respective manner.

The innkeeper returned the gesture.

“Secondly, the wash room I paid for the use of. I would like to use it now, if I could have the hot water brought up for it.” He added, explaining his reason for being there.

“Of course, Witcher. I'll have my boy, Simon, haul them up presently, then knock on your room door, when the task is complete.” The innkeeper reassured him.

“Thank you.” Geralt answered, inclining his head and went back upstairs. “The innkeeper's son will knock on our door, when your bath is ready, me'minne.” Geralt said, stepping back into the room.

“Wonderful.” You smiled at him, loosening at the laces of your shirt and turning to sit down, so you could pull your boots off.

Geralt came around the bed, grabbing the chair as he did and sat down before you, he leaned down and closed one of his big, calloused hands around your delicate ankle and lifted it, resting your heel on his knee and started to massage your foot. You moaned softly as he did, his skilled hands hitting all the right points.

“What have you done, me'bleidd?” You asked, your eyes falling closed and your head falling back.

“What makes you think I did something, me'minne?” Geralt whispered back, lifting a brow at you.

“You've spent a precious coin on a bath for me and now you're massaging my feet.” You pointed out, lifting your head and cracking an eye at him. “The last time you did that, I was bearing your son.” You said, a smirk pulling at one corner of your mouth. “And I am certifiably not with child again, unless you've been back to Toussaint without my knowledge.”

“Hm.” Geralt hummed at you, narrowing his golden eyes. “You've grown to know me too well.”

“We've been together for almost eight years.” You retorted, opening both of your eyes and laughing. “How are you to be a stranger to me, after that length of time, Geralt? Surely, you know just as much about me as I do you!” You quipped, amused.

Geralt shook his head at you, letting your foot go to favor the other one. “It's true. But, I've done nothing, and I've certainly not been back to Toussaint.” He answered, pressing his thumbs into your arch. “Since, our last visit, at least.” He added, glancing over at your son, still comfortably swaddled in his blanket and dozing peacefully on the bed behind you.

“I just wanted to...pamper—you.” He explained, gulping around the word.

You narrowed your eyes at it, suspicious. “You've seen Jaskier, haven't you?” You asked, knowing all too well that such a word as, pamper, wasn't generally in Geralt's repertoire.

But, it was in the Bard's.

“I have.” Geralt nodded, rolling his eyes. “He's in the village.”

“And he hasn't come to see me!” You huffed, outraged and hurt. “The jerk.”

Geralt laughed, grinning. “He was accosted by two women outside the inn and swept away not long after we ran into each other, when I was returning from dealing with the monster.” He explained to you, softly. “I'm sure, once they're done thrashing him, he'll come and say hello to you and Lycus.” He assured you, raising your foot to press a gentle kiss to the top of it, before putting it back down.

“But, before he was taken away, he was right. You are the one primarily taking care of our son. You need time to yourself, to relax and freshen up. I've neglected you in that way, and I'm sorry, me'minne.” He told you, his brow creasing and his molten eyes growing somber.

“Geralt.” You sighed, shaking your head, and leaning forward, cupping his face in your hands. “You have never neglected me, in any way.” You whispered to him. “It is my honor and privilege to care for our son, to care for you. It gives me the purpose in life I have looked for. I want, need and ask for nothing else.”

You gently kissed him and pressed your forehead to his, sharing a quiet and close moment with him, before a soft knock echoed from the door, announcing your bath was ready.

“I love you, me'bleidd.” You said, smiling and rubbing noses with Geralt, playfully.

“And I you, me'minne.” He replied back, nudging his forehead against yours. “Go and enjoy your bath, the both of us will be fine, until your return.”

You lingered for a second longer, before leaving the room, finding a boy standing out in the hall waiting for you. He didn't say a word, but turned and walked down the hall, guiding you to where the wash room was, then left you to relax in privacy. It felt quite strange, as you let your simple dress slip down your body, pooling around your feet, to have the luxury of a huge, full and steaming tub of water, all to yourself.

The steam rising from the water filled the room, leaving you in a thick mist, as you dipped your first foot inside; moaning as the unbelievable warmth enveloped your leg. It was as if you were in heaven. Once inside, you turned your attention to the tray attached to one wall of the tub, holding a thick, white and oval shaped bar of soap and a small, square, wooden handle and stiff bristle, body brush. You lifted the soap to your nose and took a deep breath, a smile touching your lips.

“Lavender.” You laughed, feeling the irony as a distant memory leapt out to the forefront of your mind.

“Geralt.” You mewled, feeling his hot hands grab and knead at your hips, as he pulled you against his body.

“Hmm.” He growled back, his mouth devouring your neck for a moment longer. “You smell...” He moaned against your skin, his nose gliding up your neck and burying in your hair. “Like Lavender and Cardamom.” He purred, turning his head to nibble on the rim of your earlobe.

“Is that a good thing?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Yes.” He nodded, tugging on your ear. “I love it, it's refreshing and sweet.” He whispered, kissing behind your ear and back down your neck, while pushing your dress off your shoulders and body, leaving you to stand naked before him. “It suits you.” He smiled, taking a step back, to admire your nude body.

“Because you are both of those things, and much more.”

You grinned shyly at Geralt, glancing away from him as his golden orbs appraised you with a growing look of love and lust. Geralt reached out, cupping your chin between his thumb and index finger, to turn your face back towards him and smiled at you, slowly leaning in to kiss you on the lips. His hand moved from your face and found yours, bringing it up to the buttons on his shirt, guiding and encouraging you, as you continued to kiss.

Geralt was the first man you had ever lain with, and while he had been wild, hungry and possessive, like a wolf at the end of winter, he was gentle, encouraging and patient with you as well. You rarely catch the scent of Lavender or Cardamom without thinking back at that moment, with fondness.

You lounged back in the tub, disappearing up to your chin the godly water and closed your eyes, moaning softly, feeling the heat seep into all of the sore and travel-worn places your body had from the long rides on Roach from town to village to city, and sleeping rough. It was amazing to feel normal again. But, you weren't aware of falling asleep in the bath, until you heard a strange scraping noise, almost like the sound of mice with metal nails scurrying across the floor, but much louder.

Sitting up, you reached for the towel on the seat of a chair beside the tub, and slowly stood up and wrapped it around your dripping body, then stepped out of the tub, shivering as a cold draft hit your wet skin. You stood silently, listening, but the sound had stopped, as if sensing your movement, however several long minutes later, the scratching metal sound started up again, coming from the door. Biting your lip, you tip-toed over to it, trying to make the worn and warped floorboards of the bath room squeak as little as possible, before gently touching your ear to the door.

The sound of the scraping became louder.

“What?” You whispered, your brow pinching.

You quickly picked up your dress and secured it, before yanking open the bathroom door, and found a man crouched in the hallway, a lock pick in his hands.

“Who the fuck are you?” You barked at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

The man jumped up and grabbed you roughly by the arms, shaking you. “Where is he!?” He demanded, as he shoved you into the room, his grasp bruising your skin.

“Who?” You cried, shaking your head and beating on his chest, confused and frightened. “Geralt!!” You screamed, lashing out and clawing at your attacker's face and anything else you could. “Help!” You yelled, hoping anyone would hear you.

A thunder of footfalls came down the hall and a voice called out your name in alarm, like the ringing of a clear and beautiful bell. “Get off of her!” They growled, picking up the nearest object, a chipped, porcelain vase and smashed it over your assailant's head. Your attacker groaned, letting go of you and stumbling away, holding the back of his bleeding head and crashing into a wall.

“Jaskier!” You gasped with relief, throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank gods.” You sniffled into his shoulder.

“Don't say that just yet!” Jaskier said, seeing the man starting to pull himself together and grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the room. “Geralt!” He yelled, storming down the hallway and looked over his shoulder, only to see the man make it to the doorway and start to summon something.

“Oh gosh! GEERRRALLLLT!” He roared louder, feeling his body prickle with anticipation of the apparent Mage's incoming magic strike.

The door to your and Geralt's room flew open, and Geralt came storming out, just as you and Jaskier came bolting by. He looked between you and Jaskier, then the direction you had come from and saw the Mage about to let loose his bolt of Chaos. Without hesitation, Geralt threw up his forearm to form the sign of the Quen, creating a shimmering shield as the Mage released his surge of Magic, protecting himself, and you and Jaskier behind him, from the blast of magic; depleting the shield with the hit.

“Get in the room!” He barked at you and Jaskier, then charged down the hallway towards the Mage.

“Who the fuck was that!?” Jaskier asked, slamming the room door behind the both of you, startling Lycus awake and causing him to cry.

“How am I supposed to know?” You replied, rushing over and picking him up. “I found him trying to pick the lock to the washroom, while I was enjoying my bath, and he started attacking me.” You explained, trying to soothe your son, hearing the commotion of Geralt fighting the Mage in the hallway.

Geralt rushed the Mage, not giving him the time to hopefully cast anything else at him, throwing a white-knuckled fist to the Caster's face, tossing the smaller man backwards into the tub of water, then advanced on him, grabbing him by his soaked tunic and yanked him up to face level.

“What do you want?” He growled at him, his upper lip twitching. “Why have you attacked my wife?” He demanded, jerking him roughly. “Speak!” He roared as the Mage remained tight lipped, before striking him again out of annoyed rage.

“Witcher!” The voice of the innkeeper barked in the doorway. “What is the meaning of this bedlam?!” He ordered Geralt, having received and heard all the noise from downstairs in the tavern.

“This Mage scum attacked my wife, while she was having her bath.” Geralt replied, yanking the Mage out of the tub and standing him up, for the innkeeper to see. “I want to know why!” He hissed, shoving the Mage into the wall and held him there with a hand to his throat.

“Tell me, if you want to live.”

“They know, Witcher.” The Mage finally answered, with a choking laugh, blood speckling his lips. “They know your secret.”

Geralt frowned at him, shaking his head, confused. “What secret?” He huffed, only growing angrier.

The Mage laughed, before striking Geralt with a rush of Magic, and quickly slipped through a portal before he or the innkeeper could get their hands on him again. Geralt roared with frustration and fury, punching the wall where the Mage's head had been, then shoved past the innkeeper and stomped back down to your shared room.

“Easy, Jaskier! It's just me.” He barked as Jaskier wildly swung a fire poker at his head.

“Thank the gods.” You cried, rushing Geralt and wrapping an arm around his waist, sandwiching Lycus between your bodies. “What happened?” You asked, looking up at him. “Did you find out what he wanted?”

“All he said was he knew our secret.” Geralt replied, wrapping his arms around the two of you. “Did he say anything to you?”

“He asked where he was, but I didn't know who he was talking about.” You told him, shaking your head, then saw Geralt's face change. “What?” You squeaked, blinking up at him.

Geralt gulped, his eyes shifting down to his son.

“No.” You shook your head at him, holding him closer to your body. “He's no secret, Geralt.”

“But, we also don't go around telling people that he's ours.” He answered, gently stroking your stiffening back.

“Particularly, that he's the biological son of a Witcher.” Jaskier blurted out.

“But,” You choked on the growth of your overwhelming emotions. “Why would--” You paused, it was fruitless, you knew why, you had been with Geralt long enough to know the hate and prejudice people had for Witchers, and your baby boy was the son of one, and looked so much like Geralt on top of it.

“How then would anyone find out about him?”

“They could have seen him, while we've been traveling.” Geralt said, kissing the top of Lycus's head, deeply bothered. “Perhaps, I should send you both to Kaer Morhen and finish out the last three months until winter comes, then I'll join the both of you.”

“No.” You whimpered, shaking your head at him. “Geralt, no.” You snapped, strengthening your voice.

“I won't be going about the Continent, worrying while I kill monsters, whether or not another fucking Mage, or something worse, as come after the both of you.” Geralt replied, firmly. “So, you'll be safer at Kaer Morhen, with Vesemir.” He argued, staunchly.

“Jaskier will accompany you.” He added, looking at his old friend over your head.

Jaskier looked terrified for a moment, before he yielded. “Of course.” He nodded, biting his lip. “I'll even stay, until you come and join them.” He added, trying to smile at you encouragingly.

“Thank you.” Geralt said softly, inclining his head to the Bard.

“Geralt!” You barked, eyes wide. “I'm not going without you!” You told him, stomping your foot in defiance.

“I told you, I would--”

“You know what I'm saying, Geralt.” You growled, cutting him off.

Geralt cupped your face in his hands and drew you closer to him. “I won't have you and our son in danger, and that is what the two of you are in, right now.” He told you, his facial expression set. “There's only two places on the Continent that are safe for the both of you, with me and at Kaer Morhen. I need to finish the next three months, so we have everything we need for winter, then I'll come and join the both of you at the Keep, just as always.” He told you, his voice softening and his thumbs gently caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“I promise, me'minne.” He said tenderly, before leaning in to kiss you.

“Don't think for a moment, I don't know you'll be spending that time looking for the people threatening our son.” You said against his lips, your eyes on his face, critically.

Geralt chuckled through his nose, smiling back at you. “I would never question your intelligence or how well you know me, dear one.” He said, before playfully tapping you on the nose.

“Jesus, you really bring out his mushy side, don't you?” Jaskier said, looking between the two of you, wide eyed.

You looked smugly over your shoulder at Jaskier. “Like it's hard.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “It's good to see you, by the way.” You said, turning to him, now that everything was a bit calmer. “And, thanks for helping me back there.” You added, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

“Hey.” He smirked, his cheeks coloring. “I gotta protect you and my nephew.” He said, smiling at the two of you, reaching out to gently touch the back of Lycus's head. “Hey, little man! Come to Uncle Julian!” He said, holding his hands out for him.

You chuckled and let Jaskier take him from you, knowing how much he loved the Bard, especially when he sang to him. The four of you finished calming down, before Geralt went downstairs to get you all something for supper, not wanting you and the baby downstairs, risking anymore unwanted attention and attacks on you both. But he begrudgingly allowed you both to go downstairs to watch Jaskier perform a few songs, before going up to bed.

But, on rarity, sleep wouldn't find you, as you laid in bed with Geralt, Lycus in his usual spot between you. You shifted onto your side, lightly touching your fingertips to Lycus's rising and falling chest, stilling the paranoia in your mind about his safety, before reaching out to lay your hand Geralt's side, making the Witcher hum in his sleep and stir, but not wake. You couldn't help your brain from jumping around to different memories, from paranoia, fear and trying to soothe yourself.

Like one memory in particular.

There were hundreds of lit candles in the hallways and the entry of the Temple of Melitele, giving it such a beautiful ambiance as you walked the otherwise dark and quiet building. Even though you were exhausted, sore and about to give birth at any moment, you were wide awake and restless, the baby was moving way too much for you to lay down or sit for any length of time, so you hoped taking a small walk around the Temple would help you both settle down.

“Tough night?” A gentle voice asked, startling you some.

“Yes.” You nodded, turning to face Nenneke, the head Priestess of the Temple. “The little one is very active tonight.” You told her, resting your hand on your pronounced stomach, feeling the active kicks against your palm.

“May I?” She asked, holding out her own hand to you.

You nodded your head at her, moving yours away and smiled as she gently laid her palm against your belly. A large smile crossed her beautiful face, feeling the baby beat against her hand, like a drum, memorized by the feeling.

“It never matters how many babies I help birth into this world, they still fascinate me.” Nenneke said, moving her hand with the baby. “They are so sweet and innocent.” She sighed, before drawing her hand back. “I'm surprised Geralt has let you out of his sight. He seems more attached to you than the baby's umbilical cord.” She laughed, her cocoa-colored skin glowing as she did.

“He is.” You laughed with her, nodding. “But, he's finally fallen asleep, so I managed to tip-toe away without bothering him.” You told her, turning to walk with her. “He's gotten even less sleep than I have, since we found out I was with child. He's always awake, watching me at night, then killing monsters during the day.” You confessed to her, showing your worry for him.

“I'm afraid he'll overdo himself.”

Nenneke chuckled softly, resting her hand on your back as you both rounded a pillar. “Geralt has slept like shit all his life.” She told you, honestly. “He can take a lot. But, I know he brought you here for more than just because Melitele is the Temple of Fertility and Birth. He brought you here, because this is a safe place, a haven, and it is a place Geralt has always come to when he needs a safe and healing sanctuary.”

“So, he can fall asleep, knowing we will take care of you, while he rests.”

“He has been a lot less tense.” You agreed, finally seeing it. “He smiled this afternoon, and he hasn't really done that in months.”

“And, you?” Nenneke asked, tilting her head closer, her eyes studying you.

“I'm terrified, Nenneke.” You gulped, thickly.

“You're a new mother, of course you are!” She said, shaking her head. “It would be mad to think you wouldn't be.”

“True.” You nodded, biting your lip, trying to get a handle on your hormone-crazed emotions. “I do feel safe here. Especially knowing, should anything happen, I have you to look over me.” You said, grasping her hand.

“That does take a lot of stress off of me.”

Nenneke smiled at you, giving you the most motherly vibe, her hand cupping your cheek. “You will be fine. You're a strong woman and your child will be strong too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes, and savoring the warmth of her palm against your skin, feeling your fears melt away, knowing that hand would take care of and protect you, and the life inside of you. Nenneke smiled at you, seeing you relax and let out all your stress, with a heavy breath.

“Are you all right?” Geralt's deep voice echoed in the quiet room, his pale face and molten eyes looking at you with concern and worry.

You opened your eyes and stared back at him. “I'm fine, why?”

“Your heart was thundering in your chest.” He whispered, not wanting to wake the baby, as he peacefully dozed. “It's calmer now, but you were bothered by something. Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, reaching out to gently squeeze your shoulder.

“No.” You murmured back, blinking slowly at him, then licked your lips. “But-” You gulped and looked away from him.

“Tell me.” He cooed, brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

“I need you.” You sighed, meeting his eyes again.

The ghost of a smile pulled across his lips, but Geralt nodded at you, understanding.

He had needed you for sometime, but it had become hard to do with Lycus always in bed with the pair of you. He squeezed your arm again, before carefully rolling out of bed and going to one of the saddlebags, removing a neatly folded blanket from inside; spread it out on the floor at the foot of the bed, creating a makeshift one for the two of you. You followed his lead, getting up as carefully as you could, so you didn't wake your son, and moved around the bed to Geralt, meeting the Witcher on the staging grounds of the blankets.

“I've missed you, my little firefly.” Geralt purred, his expression softening to a look of kindled lust.

“And I have missed you, Wolf.” You tittered back at him, your own eyes smoldering with the concupiscence pent up inside of you.

Humming, Geralt lifted his hands to the ties of your chemise, slowly untying them as he leaned in and kissed you with a reserved passion, his hands finally got your ties free and pushed inside the soft fabric, his skin tingling as it came into contact with yours. He moaned into your mouth. You moaned back at him, your palms pressed to the burning skin of his sides, smoothing them over to the small of his back, so you could slip your fingers into the back of his pants.

“Beautiful.” Geralt rumbled, having freed your body from the garment and stood back to appraise you.

You glanced away from him shyly, raising your arms to cross them over your chest, you had felt self-conscious about your body ever since having Lycus all those months ago. Your breasts weren't their normal and perky selves, like they were when you and Geralt had first met and made love, many years before. Geralt gave you a disappearing hmm, reaching out and closing his fingers around your wrists to gently pull your arms away from your body, making you lay your hands on his bare shoulders. He cupped one of your breasts in his palm, swirling the pad of his thumb over your hardening nipple, making you whimper and shiver.

“Such silly nonsense.” He hummed, his voice a deeper timber. “Trying to hide such a gorgeous body from me.” He said, smirking wolfishly at you, while giving the teased area of skin a pinch, producing a gasp out of you.

Geralt removed his hand from your chest and made short work of his pants, pushing them down his legs and kicking them aside, before wrapping an arm around your waist and hugging you against his body. His lips found yours once more and devoured them, like they were the sweetest of Toussaint's treats. His hands were hot on your skin as he pawed at your ass, slipping down to your thighs to pick you up and wrap your legs around his lean, scarred waist.

Pressing a hand to your back to steady you, Geralt turned and lowered himself to his knees, while laying you down on the pallet.

“How I've missed your soft folds.” Geralt whispered against your throat, sucking gently on it, while a hand strayed between your legs to caress you, then brought his wet fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a hungry moan.

“I could live off your essence for the rest of my life.” He said, a low growl in his throat.

“Mmph!” You chuckled, brushing your fingers through his loose hair, feeling the ends of it graze your shoulders and breasts as Geralt kissed all over your throat, working his way downward, leaving kisses and love-bites. “Oh.” You gasped softly, your back arching as Geralt's mouth found your pussy, flicking and swirling his tongue at your pearl, with eye-crossing skill. “It's unfair, you barely say a word most days, but your tongue is as skilled as your swordsmanship.” You huffed, gulping thickly, and hooking your legs over his shoulders, using them to hug him closer to you.

He tickled your folds with the rumble of his chuckle, while he continued to lick and suckle between your legs, making your thighs quake, your hand going to the back of his hair as you rocked against his mouth. You bit into your hand as you moaned loudly, coming against Geralt's face, not wanting to wake Lycus. Geralt moved back up your body, wrapping your legs around his waist and slipped in you with ease. Both of you sighing as he settled completely. The feeling of refreshing the physical bond and connection between you and Geralt was everything you had been looking for after all these long months. He leaned in close to you, noses brushing for a second, before capturing your lips in a tender kiss and he started to gently rock his hips into you.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, savoring his kiss, as you slipped away into the bliss of Geralt's manhood burrowing inside of you. It had been far too long since you had been elevated to this height, that you allowed yourself to feel anything other than the stress of taking care of your son and the worry for Geralt's safety, while he plied his trade. You hummed softly into Geralt's mouth, a smile tugging up one side of your mouth, breaking the kiss as you pushed your head back, his gently thumping against your chest.

“Wolf.” You sighed, tangling your fingers through his hair.

He grunted back, kissing the damp skin of your chest, before running the tip of his nose up the side of your neck and drawing in a deep breath, taking in your scent. “Firefly.” He moaned back, his warm breath leaving a rush of goose-bumps over your sweaty flesh.

The both of you were nearing your peak, when a soft sound reached you from the bed, making your heart clench with horrified anticipation. Lycus whined softly, wiggling slightly inside the warm and soft swaddle of his blanket, while making a soft sucking sound. Without missing a beat inside of you, Geralt shifted and lifted his head, cocking a brow over the plain of the mattress to his son, eyeing his restless movements, while still thrusting into you, waiting to see if Lycus woke.

But the little boy settled and went silent again.

Geralt looked down at you and chuckled, both relieved and amused.

“Close.” You whispered, gulping thickly.

“I know.” He replied, nodding, understanding. “I love you.” He whispered, as the two of you finally came together.

“I love you too.” You whispered back, floating in the warmth of your fading climax, the assault by the Mage furthest from your mind for the moment.

#A Witcher's Legacy #A Witcher's Legacy *fic* #Viking-Raider Fics #Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt #Witcher Geralt #Witcher Geralt of Rivia #Geralt!Henry #Henry Cavill!Geralt #the witcher netflix #the withcer #Witcher #witcher au #Geralt of Rivia RPF #Geralt RPF #Geralt of Rivia AU #Geralt AU #Jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #nenneke #stregobor #Temple of Meletile #Fluff #Magic #Hurt/Comfort #Netflix Witcher

[littlefreya]

The Crystal Ship - Part 1

Summary: Henry is the most dangerous crime lord in England, he has everything he wants and women throw themselves at his feet, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get.

Pairing: AU! Mafia Boss!Henry Cavill x OFC (Ash)

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, MaleDom Vibes, Stripping, Bad language, Sexual innuendo, dry humping, bodily fluids.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while and I only hope you guys will like it. As usual, I am nervous. It was supposed to be a one-shot but ended up being longer than I expected so I am dividing it into two parts for now. Many thanks to @agniavateira my sweet beta and helpful muse. Cover designed by me.

Please leave feedback  💖🥺 and more importantly, enjoy.

Title: The Crystal Ship

The sweet, smoky scent made his nose curl in repulsion. It was thick in the air, like a fruit that was too ripe, mere moments before rot sets in. Henry dreaded coming to the Imperial, even though it was the only safe ground to conduct business without having to deal with the district attorney's snout or any unwelcome eavesdropping. The club felt musty, drenched with bodily fluids and not in a good way. The men who frequented this place were foul animals; being amongst them made him feel as if their filth was rubbing onto him. 

Sitting at the bar, he downed his whiskey, hissing while the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat. The bartender stood behind the counter, polishing some glasses and looking at the large man as he brooded on the sleek black marble of the counter.     

Plastic neon lights flickered magenta and turquoise on the slick surface. An offensive contrast to the gloom that played inside Henry’s head. Life lacked vividness when everything was handed over on a golden tray. Money, beautiful women, fast cars. 

The women of the club were especially keen on throwing themselves at his feet, thirsty for his attention and money which he was never willing to give.

“Please fuck me, Henry.” “Please let me suck your cock.”

As any man, he was flattered, though if he wanted to see a woman naked, he wouldn’t need to pay for it. Still, they circled him, desperately whining at his feet whenever he stepped into the club.

All except for her. 

Big, almond-shaped eyes the colour of fertile light brown earth with a touch of green. Sitting on a barstool in the opposite direction. She was one of the girls working the club, no doubt. He didn’t imagine she was a gangster wearing fishnet stockings and a tight corset.

New girl, he gathered. He had never seen her pretty face before tonight. It was apparent she could sense his glance. Her body shifted uncomfortably, her irises focused on the straw of her tall glass of orange juice yet she never bothered looking back. Not even a smile on her nude lips. 

Henry scoffed as a spike of interest surged through his mind. He spotted the long-haired beauty earlier as he sat through an infuriating meeting. Her big hazel eyes cut into his attention abruptly, focusing on his glare for a wisp before she swung away. 

Treating him as if he was a nobody.

She chose to ignore him, much to his contempt. 

Girl likes to play tough? Well, I happen to like bending things in my hands.

-----------

Ash felt her hand prickle as she waited on the bar stool. Sipping on an orange juice, she watched as an ageing rich couple made out on a red vinyl booth while a curvy girl danced on their table. Candy-Apple, the girl who she was paired with for the night, disappeared to one of the VIP rooms with a customer. Instructed her to wait and not to take any customers alone, being still a trainee. 

The Imperial had some strict dos and don’ts. 

Little did Candy know, Ash had the miraculous gift of getting herself into sticky situations and for reasons she couldn’t explain, tonight felt like one of those nights. 

Taking another sip, she exhaled nervously, the corset tight around her ribs, further pushing her already strangled lungs. It was her very first shift and she seemed to have fallen on a busy night. The customers were not too pushy, though. No one has smeared himself onto her while holding a pitcher of beer and smelling of peanuts on their breath. Candy promised that the owners won't touch the girls and don’t let anyone else touch them either. The Imperial might be a “gentlemen’s” club, but it was one of the safest joints for girls to work at in London.

It didn’t do anything to calm the anxiety that waited at the door as she felt the presence of the tall stranger who kept his eyes on her for the last couple of hours. 

She “bumped” into him earlier as she walked around the ground floor. Broad shoulders and a face that looked as if it was put together from all the best parts found in heaven. He sat with three other men, looking like the superior one in the group. Fury burned in his eyes, yet his posture was composed which only made him look more frightening. It was a mistake to gander, she knew it deep in her heart, but he was an impressive specimen of a man. She couldn’t look away, not soon enough before their eyes met.

Now he was sitting a few meters away. A spiced drink sits in his glass, a ghost of a smile loomed over his face while his fingers were pressed to his temple in some sort of dark intrigue. He stared with the confidence of a man who knew he could have everything and it seemed like she fell on his aim.

Feeling uncomfortable, Ash broke her gaze and slipped off from her seat, wishing to find a place where she could hide from his hungry curiosity. This man had trouble written all over his arrogant posture and if she learnt anything about herself, it was that she was a magnet for chaos. She turned on her stilettos and crouched down for a second to rearrange the fishnet stockings around her thighs before straightening up moving on.

In the most natural order of things, the stranger was there to stand in her way. 

Broad and mysterious, the man towered above her with a small smile edging his mouth. Up close, she noticed his copper-brown curls and eyes like smooth steel. They shone like sharp knives through the club’s neon lighting. His jaw was cut marble, defined lines soared across his high cheekbones and even his lips had the perfect cupid’s bow. 

Ash registered him carefully and her heart murmured. No man should be this good looking; he was beautiful in manners that seemed unearthly.

“May I buy your precious time, love?” 

His voice hung low and deep, smooth like a chocolate truffle that melted on one’s tongue. 

The scent of danger filled Ash’s nostrils; it smelled like peated scotch, aftershave, and heady musk. Judging by his cool-grey tailored suit, it was quite clear that he was a businessman from the underworld kind.  

He burnt hot, and a part of her was immediately drawn to the flame. Yet despite the thrill, he seemed much more perilous than any of the other criminals who lurked around the club. This man could easily fuck up some poor girl’s life. 

In the dark cold cavern of the club, with his shadow casting over her face, the stranger seemed more like Hades than just the ordinary mobster.   

“Maybe some other night”, she forced herself to refuse, doing her best to sound polite yet stern while offering an apologetic smile in the hope that he would accept her refusal and let her go. 

She knew right away that wouldn’t please him. It was clear as vodka; he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer. The thought alone made her nerves shiver as if someone was sliding ice on her skin.

Henry ran his knuckle across the dimple of his chin. The signet ring on his pinky finger flickered on her hazel eyes in blinding silver. He took her in with a deep inhale. No, not even a drop of appreciation on her pretty face but he did detect a tinge of fear.

Interesting he mused, a small grin stretching his defined lips. The little dark-haired woman was either completely oblivious to who he was, or she was one of them ladies who had principles. 

Whichever it was, it spiked his intrigue and made for a curious turn of events in a very boring night.

“Isn’t that what you do, darling? Dance for money?”

He asked as he waved two £50 bills between his long fingers as an offering. His accent was posh and not a fake one either. She imagined he grew up wealthy. How does a man who presumingly, could achieve everything in life wound up into a place like this, she wondered. Not that the Imperial club was anything sort of sleazy. It was owned by the largest underworld family and had a taste of an old cabaret. Male celebrities often visited the club aside from gangsters and corrupt politicians.  

“It’s my first night I’m not really...”

Henry reached into his pocket, drawing six more £50 bills and offered it to her. The steel in his eyes softened for a moment, yet the peril still hovered on his face. 

He was a man trying to appear harmless and the risk never seemed so alluring.

Chewing on her cheek, she stared at the money. It was enough to stock the fridge for at least a month but it wasn’t as even half as seductive as her stranger’s haunting charm. 

Fuck it.

Taking a deep breath, her slender fingers reached toward the hand that held the cash. She snatched the money from between his digits and tucked it in her garter belt. Henry beamed, pleased that she agreed. Two large dimples creased his cheeks as if this man needed any more attractive features.

Ash wrapped her fingers around his wrist and led him through the depths of the club while her heart thundered in her chest. For some reason, it felt as if she was walking freely into a trap. 

And yet, excitement boiled in her blood. 

The cracks between their silent contract were filled by the beats of the monotonous music. They passed by the abundance of half-naked women who were coaxing different men around the bar, touching and smiling sweetly, serving them with nothing but the illusion that they are wanted, when in fact they were needed for nothing but a paycheck. 

Henry followed the petite woman, anticipation coating his veins and spiralling a small grin on his face. He guessed that without her heels she’d be at the height of his shoulder, this pretty little thing with raven black hair. He was intrigued by the way she bravely withstood him, almost to the point of irritation. It seemed as if his spell was useless on her as she carried herself carelessly, unlike the many women who threw themselves at his feet, begging to be fucked.   

There was something provoking in her, to the extent of him willing to break another one of his own rules and get a sense of what she felt from the inside. 

Her fingertips pressed on his wrist, sensing the pulse within. His heart ran strong and confident but she imagined it would only be a matter of time until she’d have him a complete mess. 

They all have the same weakness, no matter how much power they have. 

The large spacious club narrowed into a slim corridor while teal and magenta-coloured lights danced diagonally across a mirrored tunnel. Their own reflections appeared several times, accompanying them as they arrived in an open room, guarded by a huge, square-shaped bodyguard with a shaved head, chewing on the dead skin of his thumb.

Henry eyed him carefully, giving him a small nod before following her into the room. The interior was dark, with a black ceiling and a black shiny floor, embellished with white LEDs that reflected on her red stiletto heels. An onyx leather couch waited in the middle next to a small edge table holding plenty of bottled hard liqueur.   

“Make yourself comfortable.” She gestured toward the seat and shut the door behind her, taking a deep breath as she felt a slight increase in her heartbeat. In the confinement of the small space, the brooding man had the energy of a lion, hazing her senses and making her feel like nothing more but a fluffy little rabbit. 

The leather squeaked beneath his weight as he shifted slightly, wide thighs spread open while he glanced at her rear. She turned to tinker with the stereo system, selecting a tune to dance to. 

Browsing through the selection of beverages, Henry decided to treat himself to a bottle of smoked whiskey. He unturned a clean lowball on the table, the sharp hiss making her flinch and then slump her shoulders at the sound of thick liquid being poured. The odour of spiced ashes filled the room, mixing with his musk and her sweet perfume.  

“Should I pour you one as well, pet?” 

“I would rather not drink on the job,” she replied and pressed play. Soft synth tunes played through the speakers and Ash turned to him slowly, giving him a seductive glance. 

“Depeche Mode, really?” He crooked an eyebrow and smiled with amusement before pressing the glass to his lips and eyeing her carefully.

“I thought this song is fitting for my first VIP client” she answered, and made sensual steps towards him, already feeling captive by the daggers on his eyes. Henry took another sip of the amber-gold drink and placed his glass aside, pressing his fingers against his temple while examining the woman who was running her hands over her corset.

“You’re my first too.” 

“Bullshit,” she mocked, entering into the space between his knees. 

Henry tilted his head, a small warning glare crossing his chiselled face. “Mind your tongue, sweetheart. You’re a lady, act like one.”   

She bit her tongue, avoiding the small tremor that flapped from her chest all the way up to her throat like a tiny caged bird. The dominance and authority in his voice made her shiver, making her feel as if she was owned by more than just his money. She wondered what made a handsome man like him even bother paying for something he could get for free from any woman he wanted.

“Fuck,” she provoked, keeping the fear on her breath tucked well behind a sweet sultry smile. She took joy in the dissatisfaction that danced on his face as she cursed. “You know how this works, then?”

“You take off your clothes and dance on my lap like a good girl?” 

“I can touch you, you don’t touch me.” she warned, and slowly fell to her knees between his thick thighs, following the hollowed drop in the melody. Henry stared down at her with a pleased look on his face, his eyes hued with wanton as she rolled the laces of her corset between her fingers and unwrapped herself like the sweetest present. 

It wasn’t her first time giving a lap dance. She worked in strip clubs outside of London, but those were much smaller clubs that held no more than 40 guests. And none of her customers looked like Big Handsome Boss. 

“That seems unfair,” he answered as she spread her corset open. Her perked nipples teased through the loosened fabric while she gave him a pouty look and pulled at the laces delicately until she was free of the confinement of her bodice. 

Henry shifted in his seat uncomfortably while she revealed her body to him. Small breasts glowed heavenly in the LED lighting, skin pure and smooth like honey. He was forced to reach a hand to adjust the huge bulge that pooled with arousal while her fingers began stalking up to his knees like two big spiders. 

Big boy, she noted, trying to deny the small electric tingle that ran mischievously between her legs.  

“Many things in life are unfair, Mister…”

“Henry.”

“Henry,” she answered, her French-manicured nails scratching his thighs, eliciting a low growl from him that made her spine crawl. “Not that I imagine that a man like you would know.”

He let out a small chuckle, she wasn’t far from being right. The hardest thing in his life right now was the fact that a beautiful nymph was dancing between his thighs and he wasn’t allowed to touch her. Yet.

The little vixen clutched his thighs tightly and pushed herself up steadily, spine curving, her breasts displayed an inch from his lips. She climbed to his lap and straddled his waist, pressing her panty-clad crotch against his caged erection. A rogue moan escaped her lips as she felt the mass of his bulge between her legs, much to the large man’s delight.

It appeared she wasn’t all immune to his spell. Her breath was shaking in her throat as she pressed her hands against his chest, feeling the hard pecs under the soft cotton of his grey shirt. Henry was sturdy and large. She couldn’t help but wonder what he hid beneath his well-tailored outfit. His biceps were bigger than her head as he kept his arms folded; those thighs beneath her ass felt thicker than logs.  

Her lustful gaze swayed to meet the sky in his eyes up close, detecting a slight imperfection in one of them: an earthly taint of brown. He gave her a slanted grin, descending to feast on the sight of her half-naked form with a flick of his tongue across his lip. 

Red flags waved at the back of her mind. This man was the epitome of danger, drenched with dark lust and sinister grins. The fact that he was a sweet, sugary treat for a starving girl made for a sinful mixture, causing both distress and stickiness between her thighs.

Henry placed both his hands on the armrests, fingers digging into the onyx leather to hold himself from grabbing her slim waist and grinding her onto his cock. Her mound felt fiery hot onto the fabric of his trousers, and the slow tidal sway of her hips did nothing but engorge him even more.        

“What’s your name, little minx?” He asked, his breath heavy and sweet with whiskey against her neck. 

She hummed in response, closing her eyes and throwing her head back while her hands held onto his broad shoulders. The dark waterfalls of her hair streamed down behind her. Her torso stretched, bare breasts a delicious sight while she danced on his groin, increasing the friction that ran like smouldering heat. 

“It’s… Lilith…” she answered, licking her lips as she felt the blood vibrating between them.

Henry groaned, enjoying the brush of her body against his. She moved in sensual waves- slow yet hard, like a storm inching an ocean. Her voice hummed softly in his ear, her almond-shaped eyes tricking him into believing he was desired, needed. 

And perhaps he was, as her lips swelled red with passion and she danced on his cock with as much urgency to please herself as to please him.

“Your real name, pet.”   

Ash closed her eyes and shook her head. “I am not allowed to tell you.”

“Fair enough,” he growled. He felt her increase the pace, pushing harder onto him. His self-control was vastly challenged. His breath became fervent fumes. He felt the moistness beneath his hands as he clutched tightly on the soft leather as if his life were dependent on it. The pulse in his organ became as rageful as a volcano.

“You look like you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” he murmured, letting his lips inch dangerously close against her neck. “I wonder if this sort of thing would happen with anyone else, or I’m special.”

Goosebumps spread through her skin, her nape felt a cold shiver. Ash swallowed hard. If this was a thriller film this was the point where she was supposed to turn back and save her skin, yet all she fancied was to push her cunt against menacing Henry and mewl as tinders of joy licked between her legs.

“Is that a problem, if I am?” She dared.   

Unable to control his body’s natural instincts, Henry broke and bucked his hips roughly into her mound, giving in to her grind, growling as the collision created sparks of fire that increased the flame between them. 

“Not at all,” he grunted, feeling droplets of sweat forming on his brow. “Only that I paid you.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself.”

And tendrils of pleasure were indeed within her grasp. Ash felt a tremble in her thighs. He was large and hard, demanding to be let inside her. She’d be lying if she didn’t want the same, imagining just how large a man of his size was. 

She wondered how he’d fuck her, would he be as slow and rough as their carnal dance, or would he throw her on the bed and wreck her till she cried. 

The dark gaze in his eyes made her lean toward the latter and darn if he didn’t look at her as if she was the most intoxicating woman on earth. Feeling the flush ride from her cheeks down to her chest, she turned around, pushing her ass against his cock instead. She wanted to come so badly, the throb between her legs mingled with the fear that tingled in her chest. She wanted to remind herself she was protected by the owners of the club and the man standing right outside, yet Henry made her doubt herself. 

And for some reason, it only made her more excited.

“Touch me!” She demanded in a voice tainted with desperation.

There was no need to ask more than once. Her handsome stranger groaned the most beautiful melodies in her ear and reached his aching hands to squeeze her breasts. They moaned together as the much-needed bond had formed. Henry’s thumbs circled her nipples while his fingers kneaded on the fat of her flesh. She knew this was a mistake, he would leave his violet fingerprints all over her skin yet her judgment was clouded by the pleasure his touch elicited on her desperate flesh.

“Lilith.” Henry gasped, allowing himself to nuzzle the girl’s hair as she seemed completely lost to her own desires. “Do you fuck your boss?”

“I’m not a prostitute.” she answered breathlessly as one of his hands climbed up to her neck and held her jaw, drawing her head back onto his shoulder. His hips bucked harder against her ass, the pounding in his cock was nothing but white-hot fury. He held her tightly while she dug her nails into his thighs. 

“Not what... I asked…” he gasped, his voice breaking between grunts.

“No.” 

Ash felt his cock twitch beneath her and his moans chanted repeatedly, becoming louder and louder. The pulsating need inside her was unbearable yet it wasn’t enough, not for her. She needed to feel something inside her throbbing cunt yet she feared breaking the rules. Henry pushed against her ass with vigour, emitting inarticulate sounds until he clutched her tightly and gasped with pleasure. 

For a few seconds, the room felt like the most radiant thing on earth.  

Ash breathed out as his hot mess was sticky against her ass. Slight disappointment danced in her chest as she didn’t share his climax and her heart was still in rageful turmoil, furious for not being let to feel the much-needed pleasure. Yet a part of her was relieved that their contract has expired. 

She might have managed to avoid trouble for once. 

“Good.” Henry breathed out, panting heavily as he tried to adjust his lungs. His hands still covered her breasts, sensing the dampness of her skin against his sweaty palms 

“Because I am your boss, darling.”  

Her mind still fuzzy, Ash let out a confused chuckle which quickly died as the man beneath her didn’t join in her laughter. The rigidness on his breath sounded dead serious and the signet ring on his pinky finger suddenly felt cold against the softness of her breast.   

“Cavill.” she called out, panic pitching her voice higher. “Henry Cavill…?”

“Mhmm.” he hummed with approval, an arrogant smile spread from the corners of his lips as he noticed the obvious shift in her mood. Still seated on his lap, she let out a trembling wheeze as her heart sank to her gut.

“You are not joking, are you?”

“No,” his voice rumbled, vibrating low and thick against her prickling spine. 

Ash felt the sweat turn cold on her skin. Giving a small turn, she was unable to determine whether she should get up or remain seated on his groin. She could see the shit-eating grin on Henry’s sharp jaw from the corner of her eye and decided to gather her shaky feet to stand, nearly losing her balance as her heels suddenly despised her.

“Mr. Cavill, I’m so sorry,” she dropped her gaze to the floor, her hands covering her breasts nervously out of the misled thought she offended him. If he felt threatening before, now she felt pure terror making her blood sting. The Cavills were the most notorious organized crime family in the United Kingdom. Their web spun across each district, and they owned half of the police force in London.

She just made a filthy mess out of the trousers of a man who kills much more important people than her.

It was very much clear to her that it would take little to no effort to make a no one like Ashleigh Carr disappear. 

The room began to feel as if it was depleted of air all of a sudden.

“Considering you just made me come all over my pants, you can call me Henry, or sir.” he corrected her in his deep voice while his piercing steel eyes focused on the obvious stain on his crotch. 

Ash blinked, terrified as Henry reached for the phone at the back of his trousers. A muscle strained in his jaw while he scrolled through the device and then placed it against his ear. She opened her mouth to apologize once again, yet was silenced by Henry holding up his index finger gesturing “wait”.

“Sean, I will need a clean suit brought to the Imperial, ASAP. Make it a dark one.”

The crime lord ended the call with a friendly yet authoritative “Cheers,” before lifting his gaze to the slender girl who still stood at the same spot with eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Never in his life had he had a naked girl look at him with so much fear on her face. 

It was an interesting new aspect. 

Reaching down between his knees, Henry fished for her flimsy corset and pulled his heavy body upward. His long legs stretched as he stepped toward the horrified girl. Giving her a smile, he handed her the piece of garment. 

She snatched it from his hand with slight hesitation while he stared down at her, his head tilting as if to further study the features of her face. She was too afraid to break eye contact, strapping the corset back around her body without saying another word.

“Lilith…” Henry called, his spiced breath hot on her face.

“Ash...Ashleigh,” she admitted.

“Ashleigh,” Henry pronounced her name softly in his low voice, giving a small dreamlike smirk as if it was the most beautiful name he ever heard. His tongue licked over his bottom lip while he drank the sight of her in. 

“I’d like to fuck you.”

Ash stared at the man in front of her with surprise, lust still blooming between her thighs, her skin tingling with the imprint of his touch. Inside, she seared with passion and he was undoubtedly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen with his kissable lips and crystal blue eyes.

But she detested the idea of being a whore. She never slept with a customer, nor was she willing to sleep with her boss. 

Even if it cost her life. 

“As I said, not a prostitute.”

“I have no intention of paying you,” he answered with a dry chuckle.

“You just did,” she answered and then took a deep breath, choosing not to say more. She still valued her life after all, no matter how pitiful it is. 

Henry gave her a slanted smirk and began circling her like a predator stalking his prey. Careful eyes followed him, her breath measured with every step he took. 

There was a spirit in her, warm and feisty. Defiant despite the fear that sparkled as clear as water in her beautiful eyes. In the cold, secluded room of his sinful club, he finally felt the thing he chased after for years. Passion. Desire. 

And it was booming in his heart.

“I find you interesting, Ashleigh,” he replied and shoved his hand into the pocket of his jacket, drawing out a sharp silver card.

“But I am not one to beg, nor do I take pleasure in pressuring women to sleep with me.”

The card gleamed like a knife as he held it between his digits while waiting for her to accept it. 

“This is my driver’s number, just in case you decide you do want to spend your night with me.”

*

Read Part 2

________________________________________________

#Henry Cavill #AU!Henry Cavill #mob!henry cavill #MobBoss!Henry Cavill #henrycavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x reader

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

To become one

Masterlist

A/N: When @geralts-yenn sent me the 'nice day outside' comfort-prompt, I was ecstatic, because I get to write for Melot! (I love him.) Then - of course - it turned into... 4 thousand words of smut. With a little plot and a little lore that I feel I hid quite well, so as to not disturb everyone's porn-consuming experience 😜

Credit for the moodboard/title/banner/what do we call this?/thing goes mostly to @geralts-yenn as well, so thank you again for making that, hon. 🥰🥰🥰

This is a little more purple prose-y than what I usually do, so I hope that went well 🥰

(This was written from a promt from this ask game!)

Characters: wood elf!Prince!Melot x dryad!OFC (unnamed)

Summary: The elven Prince Melot and his dryad lover share a lovely afternoon together in the forest.

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MINORS DNI, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected. Be smarter!), voyeurism/exhibitionism, a smidge of a mention of feet..., dirty talk, playful chasing and teasing. Possibly an age gap of several decades if not centuries, I don't know.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @keanureevesisbae @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @peyton-warren

“There you are,” a bright and welcoming voice chimed through the thick forest, and into the small clearing. As she emerged from between the trees, he watched her every step closely from where he was laying on the ground. She gracefully roamed the clearing, leaving gentle dents in the moss that covered the ground, finally halting near his head, where she playfully nudged his chest with her bare foot. He grasped it suddenly and firmly, before gently trailing his fingers along the sole of her foot, while pressing his lips to the top. Slowly, his hand slid up her leg, to her calf, and his lips began a path that trailed in the same direction.

One moment he held her, the next she was gone; vanished into the roots of the trees that she had been standing on, and reappearing at the edge of the clearing once more as though she had never ventured near him. He raised himself on one elbow, allowing him to lustfully gaze at her beautiful form. Light seemed to emanate from her, beckoning him closer and freezing him in place at the same time. His eyes raked over the beautiful features of her face, where bright green eyes teased him from afar. Long dark hair fell in supple curls around her face, and spilled onto her back and over her shoulders, a single strand lost between her full breasts.

In his presence, she was covered, but as her kind had no true grasp on the concept, the fabric of her gown was a silky material so thin he could easily see the contours of her nipples. It clung to her, to every beautiful curve and dimple in her skin, it’s dark emerald colour a striking contrast with the pale, slightly green hue of her skin. One at a time, she pushed the straps of her gown off of her shoulders, baring her breasts to him.

“Play a game of hide and seek with me, Melot?” she whispered kindly, her voice echoing through the trees, allowing him to hear it. Before he could scramble to his feet, she vanished again. With careful steps, he walked towards the edge of the clearing, tentatively stretching out a hand until his fingertips connected with the bark of the tree she had been standing next to. Of course, she was no longer there.

He listened for her, knowing it would be almost impossible for him to find her, unless she moved. She could be anywhere. He knew her to be kind, and, despite her playful ways, the furthest thing from cruel one could possibly imagine. Thus, he concluded, she wasn’t far away from him. Never would she let him enter into a game he couldn’t win, for she, too, relished the consequences of his victory too much to allow him to lose.

After a while, he felt her as she shifted from one tree to another, then another, and he began his pursuit; easily avoiding trees and roots as he tracked her through the dense forest. As he went along on his chase, deeper and deeper into the forest, their pace slowed. His, because it was impossible to move quicker as the forest grew thicker and the space between trees narrower, and hers, because this was her favourite part of their game.

The trees were so close together here that Melot could hardly turn around without touching them – precisely as she had wished.

“I can feel you.” A dark undertone laced his voice as he spoke. Though she wasn’t moving, she was so near him, and the trees were so close to one another, that he felt her pulse radiating through them. A chuckle rolled through the air, carried by the soft breeze, audible only as the rustling of the foliage above him.

“Come to me,” he demanded playfully, knowing his query would yield nothing.

“Capture me, Melot,” her voice echoed all around you, “if you can.” A tender hand briefly trailed his back before disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared. From then, she moved swiftly through the trees, each time reaching out her hand to touch Melot; stroke his cheek, or arm, tap him on the shoulder to get him to turn around.

“You know I can’t, my love,” he answered her plea, his voice barely above a grunt as her hand grasped his clothing from behind and pulled him against the tree she resided in. He knew all too well that it was impossible to pull a dryad from a tree. Her hand disappeared from his back and her arm wrapped around his middle instead, the palm of her hand flat against his abdomen as she pulled him against her. Her other arm reached around him, fingers working to loosen the laces of his shirt collar before sliding her hand over his bare chest. As sudden as the other movements had been, her face appeared next to his, and with her nose, she carefully moved his curls out of her way. Melot moaned softly as her tongue trailed the edge of his ear, all the way to the top, where she gently bit down, careful not to hurt him with her sharp teeth.

“Oh, those elven ears... So sensitive,” she mused softly into his ear before continuing her ministrations until she had had enough. “Follow me.”

He chased her once more along a non-existent path through the thick forest, his feet as nimble as ever, never stumbling, never clashing with a tree or a low hanging branch. The forest was his home, too, and it had been the home of his people for thousands upon thousands of years. He followed her to another clearing, where she tauntingly walked circles around a birch that stood a little further away from the other trees.

This clearing, like many others, felt magical – a kind of magic that became most apparent when one tried to step away from the trees, towards the centre. Melot struggled to put his foot on the ground, and raise the other to take the next step, as a strange force pulled him backwards, preventing him from breaching the border of the clearing.

“What is it, my darling?” she taunted. The harder Melot tried to step forward into the clearing, the more difficult it became. He drew ragged breaths from the exertion, and his eyes begged her to stop doing whatever it was that she was doing.

“It isn’t what I’m doing so much as what I’m not doing,” she giggled as she walked towards him and reached out her arm. Lifting his arm to take her outstretched hand in his, also proved more difficult than it should have been under any normal circumstances. As soon as he held her, she smiled deviously. “Please, come visit me.”

As soon as the words passed her lips, the magic that had before so longed to keep him away from this place, seemed to vanish – and so did she. Melot looked around the clearing, taking in the beautiful surroundings as he searched for his lover. The glade was unusually round, and surrounded by trees – which was unsurprising – five of which were vast, mighty oak trees, eerily similar in size, and very evenly spaced around the parameter of the space.

“Home Trees,” he muttered softly, and immediately, his suspicions were confirmed by her soft chuckle that echoed through the clearing.

“Find mine, and you’ll have your reward,” she teased once again. He drew in a deep breath, and listened – waited, as slowly the beating of her heart became apparent to him again. Without thinking, he turned on his heel and trod across the soft green moss that carpeted the clearing with determination. Less certain of himself was he when he raised his hand, his trembling fingers hovering over the bark of the tree he believed to be hers, apprehensive to touch it. Suddenly, her face appeared before him as he slowly emerged from the oak. She leaned gratefully into his touch, smiling at him as his fingers caressed the side of her face.

“Found me,” she giggled as she leaned forward until her lips almost touched his. Almost… And then she was gone again. Behind him, coming from the centre of the glade, Melot heard her voice once more: “Come and get me, Melot.”

Naturally, there was no need for her to tell him a second time. When he turned around, she untied the waist of her gown, revealing every curve of her full, naked form as it dropped to the ground. He once again went after her; biting his lip as he drank in every inch of her body, treading slowly and carefully as were he a predator stalking his prey. He came to a halt right in front of her, his eyes mirroring the ever-growing desire that coursed through his veins.

“Kiss me,” he said, his voice already dripping with impatience. When she denied him, and then a second time, and a third, he roughly placed his hands on either side of her face and pulled it towards his.

“Do not deny me my reward, you wicked little minx.” His words were a playful yet threatening growl, her response was rendered inaudible as it was swallowed up by his rough kiss. His cold demeanour melted somewhat as he felt her give in to his touch; lips less forceful, hands less demanding… His tongue slid along the seam of her lips – a subtle order she hastily and eagerly obeyed by parting her lips. Moans escaped both of them when he deepened the kiss, reaching around her to squeeze her ample behind, luring more noises of pleasure from her as he kneaded her soft flesh.  

Finally, Melot pulled away, breaking the kiss, and with small, languid strides he circled her, delivering a swift spank to her bottom as he walked behind her – then he stood still, placing his chin on her shoulder. “I found you. I won you.”

She didn’t speak, nor did she move when Melot’s hands gripped the sides of her hips roughly, and dragged her back until her body was flush against hers. His fingertips dimpled the soft, supple flesh he held so fiercely as he ground his hips against her.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” he said as the new friction caused his erection to swell even further with desperate need. She turned around in his arms and smiled a devious smile at him that sent shivers cascading down his spine. Her fingertips brushed gently past the tips of his ears, making him bite his lip and moan with pleasure and anticipation.

“The thought of your touch, my dear Prince,” she spoke slowly and in a sultry voice that made it difficult for him to keep from abandoning all manners, “has been on my mind since I felt you set foot in our forest.” Once again, she turned around, this time freeing herself from between Melot’s hands and taking a few steps away from him as she continued to speak: “Do you know what those hours of waiting did to me?” She sank down onto a moss-covered rock in the middle of the glade, spreading her legs wide for him to see, and running her fingers through her folds. “Do you want to find out?”

Melot answered her query with an eager nod, stepping towards her once more, and finally dropping to his knees in the soft moss before her – never lifting his gaze from her glistening petals. She reached for the richly embroidered collar of his shirt, and pulled at it, prompting him to pull it over his head and toss it to the side. With two fingers, she gently lifted his chin so he would look up at her.

His eyes never left hers as he took one of her legs and put it over his shoulder. From there, he started with a tender kiss to the inside of her upper leg, by her knee, his soft lips leaving a damp trail as he kissed higher and higher until he reached the apex of her thighs.

“A truly sweet reward,” he chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to the delicate skin before him. Her lips parted to let out a frustrated groan as he moved away from her core and kissed her stomach and hips, then her other leg all the way down to her foot, and back again. A gentle breeze cooled the wet marks his kisses had left on her skin, causing gooseflesh to erupt all over her body as she whined and squirmed beneath the touch of his fingers and lips. Then, finally, as she thought she would go positively mad with desire, he grasped the back of her thighs, spreading her legs even further, using his thumbs to part her petals and reveal her desperate, weeping core.

Just as she was about to revel in the sensations of Melot’s capable tongue against her most sensitive parts, she noticed something…

“We have an audience,” she said softly as she placed a hand on Melot’s forehead to stop him from moving further with his endeavours. Experience had taught her that elves had a tendency to consider intimate relations a private matter – something she and others of her kind could hardly fathom.

“Let them watch,” he growled, taking her by surprise. Melot pushed the hand she held to his head away and continued doing what he had been doing before. His tongue found her hidden pearl with ease, and before long, she poured down exclamations of pleasure and praise over him as he gently lapped at and suckled on her swollen clit.

“Do all dryads finish so easily?” he asked after he had gently guided her down from her first peak. Two of his fingers found her entrance, and without awaiting her answer, plunged into her drenched core. She found time between zealous utterances that alternated between praise and profanity, to answer his question affirmatively, while he relentlessly pumped his fingers into the snug heat of her body. She cried out his name when he added a third finger, breathing heavily as her velvet walls struggled to accommodate the cumulative girth of his digits – her second orgasm followed swiftly.

Behind them, from the edge of the glade, others – mostly of her kind – watched as Melot continued his efforts. A few of the dryads stayed mostly hidden in the trees, while some others approached matters less subtly, and settled down on the moss-covered floor of the glade, making no attempts to hide their own amorous activities – be they alone or with others. As strange as it was for him to admit, Melot secretly revelled in the attention of their prying eyes – though he doubted his feelings were really a secret to her: if his rising heartbeat didn’t give away his true sentiments regarding the situation, the fact that he continued lapping at her sopping core more vigorously than he had previously done surely would have clued her in.

Shortly after her third climax, she set a foot on his shoulder, pushing him off her as she fought to catch her breath.

“My turn,” she said with a wicked smile on her lips as she gently pushed Melot onto his back, nimble fingers wandering his exposed chest until they reached his trousers. Within seconds, she had undone them, and her eager hands wrapped around his hardened length, giving him a few strokes as she positioned herself in a way that allowed her to wrap her lips around him. She took his cock deep into her mouth with both devotion and ease, coating his shaft with saliva. As she moved her hands along his length, aiding her lips in their efforts, she elicited decadent moans and content whines from Melot as he continued his writhing, further succumbing to the pleasure she brought him with every passing second and every tender swipe of her tongue.

One of his hands weaved itself into her dark curls, and she happily let him guide the rhythm of her ministrations. She thought herself incredibly lucky to have found an elven lover, known for both their long lifespans – meaning a vast wealth of experience in lovemaking – and their stamina – which made him almost as insatiable as she was. As she looked up, she immediately recognized the burning desire in his eyes. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that hers held the same expression; she could feel the heat of her passion on her skin.

“Do you want me?” she asked after pulling her mouth off Melot’s cock – not an easy feat, as she found herself quite fond of servicing him. Her voice was hoarse and thick with lust, her bottom lip quivering with anticipation.

“More than anything,” he panted, his lips curling into an arrogant smirk as he witnessed her impatience; she hadn’t been able to wait for his answer before ridding him of his trousers completely. Upon her return, she all but dove into his arms, straddling his hips as she leaned forward.

“Then take me,” she whispered, laying her forehead against his, waiting for him to find her entrance. Instead, he pulled her off of him, and rolled on top of her, his hardness pressing against her slick folds, making her mewl and beg for him to enter her.

“Is that what you need?” he muttered against the skin of her neck as he littered the sensitive area with kisses and relished the writhing of her body beneath his. A dark growl rumbled within his chest, and he spoke in what was almost a vicious snarl: “Gods, I want nothing more than to bury every inch of myself inside of you.”

“Then why don’t you?” she whined, fretful cries escaping her as her attempts to angle her hips in such a way that his rigid length would slip into her all proved fruitless.

“Because I want you to beg for it,” he growled into her ear. “Beg for me, my little nymph.” It wasn’t often that she saw Melot so completely overcome with lust, so it stood to reason that she would wish to savour every moment of it. Soon, she heeded his request, loud pleas spilling from her mouth, urging him to break into her so that her lust might finally be slaked. Melot, however, seemed to have other plans entirely, and focused his efforts on her breasts, kneading one of them with fervent ardour. He took the nipple of the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak, sometimes suckling, or even biting down softly, repeating his treatment on her other breast, while her pleas fell on deaf ears.

She had always thought herself to be too proud to cry, but as Melot continued his cruel denial of her deepest desires, tears appeared, which, with every passing second, threatened more and more to break free from the confines of her eyes. The eyes of their spectators were all trained on her face, waiting for the moment she would finally succumb to the pressure of her carnal urges, casting aside her pride…

“Melot, please!” she cried out so loud that anyone who hadn’t yet been occupied with their performance was sure to turn their head now. “I beg of you, please fuck me!”

Melot hesitated for a final moment, knowing very well what it meant to lay with a nymph in the glade that she called home, but there was nothing more in this world that he wanted than to be hers for as long as fate would allow him to be. A few members of their ‘audience’, as she had called it before, cheered briefly as he drove his cock into her tight, drenched core, but he paid them no mind. To him, there were only two beings on this whole planet, and anything else didn’t matter in the slightest.

His thrusts were slow at first, as he savoured her constant whining and begging for more, but he ran out of patience and restraint much quicker than he had hoped. Both of them were completely enraptured by the sounds of ecstasy they let out as they continued to ravish each other. Her fingers dug into the moss flooring of the glade, seeking purchase to help her withstand his onslaught on her body, each of his wild thrusts luring a moan from her lips as her velvet walls stretched to accommodate his girth over and over again.

Her cries became louder as he hoisted one of her legs over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge even deeper into her wet heat. His thumb found her clit with ease, drawing circles around the swollen little pearl, coaxing her to her next climax. A few strokes sufficed, and before long she cried out from pleasure as she once again reached her peak.

He leaned down to kiss her, and she gladly let him, so that she might revel in his attention as he whispered praise and sweet nothings in her ear. She knew he wasn’t finished with her yet, which is why his next query was hardly a surprise to her.

“Will you let me take you from behind?” The sound of his voice was almost a whine. She happily indulged him, naturally. She was a nymph, after all. Once again, she vanished from beneath him – almost causing Melot to lose his balance, but he caught himself just in time – only to emerge again a few feet away, on her knees. She swayed her hips enticingly as she leaned forward until her chest was on the ground, and arched her back. For a moment, Melot admired her and the way the sunlight danced over her skin, before he made his way over to her.

He sat behind her and ran his fingers through her slick folds, spreading her open as he leaned in to seek her clit with his tongue. Swiftly and with great ease, he brought her to another climax on his tongue. Melot chuckled softly under his breath. From the beginning of their tryst, he had found his dryad’s ability to orgasm time and again very intriguing, and if he was being honest, it was quite satisfying to unravel her time after time. Oftentimes, he lost count of the amount of times she finished, other times, he challenged himself to make her come a certain number of times... She seemed to have plenty of fun either way.

When he was done, she found he took too long to proceed. With impatience clearly evident in her voice, she begged him once again for his cock, not appreciating it when he teasingly ran its tip through her folds, holding her hips to prevent her from pushing herself onto him. It was in that moment that she realised Melot did not just appreciate her writhing – though there existed no doubt in her mind that he thoroughly enjoyed watching her in her current state, beside herself with lust and longing. No, Melot, she noticed, revelled in the attention of the spectators on the edge of the clearing.

“You like that we’re being watched,” she spoke softly, biting her lip to choke back a moan as Melot dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips and pulled her closer, finally giving her what she had been waiting for.

“It’s growing on me,” he admitted as he thrust into her – slowly at first, then increasing his pace to a vigorous rhythm that made her cry out. Once more, she noticed how he relished the reactions from some of the onlookers as he sheathed himself inside her core again, how his erection seemed to swell even further inside of her, how there was a faint sense of arrogance and pride to the way he handled her that sat in stark contrast to their earlier encounters, which had consisted of hours upon hours of gentle lovemaking. Of course, even then, they had sometimes been caught by the occasional curious passer-by, but at the time, nothing had suggested that that was something Melot found particularly arousing.

Her thoughts were interrupted when another orgasm built inside her. It arrived quickly, almost taking her by surprise as she called out his name. This time, her clenching walls were too much for him, the sensation of her quivering muscles gripping his cock bringing him to the brink of orgasm, the sound of her cries of ecstasy the final straw that lured him over the edge, where he spilled his seed deep inside of her before collapsing next to her on the ground.

For a while, they lay there silent and spent. She rolled into his side, draping her arm over his stomach, and gently stroking his side as they slowly came to their senses again.

“I feel a little exposed,” Melot muttered softly enough that only she heard him. With one swift move of her hand, she conjured a blanket out of the moss flooring of the glade and draped it over his hips. The gesture immediately seemed to put him at ease.

“Your father won’t be happy about this,” she said after another while of silence, at once painfully aware that she had stolen the elven King’s son.

“My father will have no choice but to accept our union. Besides, it cements good relations between our kinds,” Melot responded plainly, seemingly deeming het concerns baseless.

“What if he tries to take you away from me?” she said, fear suddenly striking her as she realized what that would mean for her.

“He can’t,” Melot said, but his words did not yet put her mind at ease. “Wood elves are bound by the laws of nature. He might oppose our marriage, but there is nothing he can do to disband it.” His words brought her comfort, as did his lips, which he pressed briefly to her forehead.

“Rest, my love,” he muttered softly to her as fatigue took hold of her and her eyes began to fall shut, “my wife.”

#melot #melot fanfiction #melot smut #tristan and isolde #tristan + isolde #melot fanfic #melot x ofc #fantasy AU #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill

[valsarchives]

we belong together - t.c.

Timothée Chalamet x OC

a/n: so this is my first time posting x OC AU and I’m kinda nervous but yeah, enjoy!

miramelbourne

liked by tchalamet, zayn, henrycavill and 17,284,174 others

miramelbourne what a night

view comments

tchalamet what a night indeed.

miramelbourne 🤠🫦

miramybaby what do you mean miss?????

timirastan ok mr. and mrs. we-talk-so-secretly.

miralotheefan we need to know what happened that night 😩

user_28438 are they dating?

timmyxmimi well, there is nothing confirmed but we hope they are because they’re so good together 🫠

randomuser she’s dating with Ben Barnes

timotheefan15 bro what 💀 they’re besties

mirasbabygirl You SLAYED as always 💅🏻

kissmemira My lady looks so sexy as always 🫦

msmelbourne 🛐🛐🛐

tchalafann she’s so fine 😮‍💨

zendaya i missed you like crazyyyy

miramelbourne me too baby me too 🥲

timmytimmy hey sexy 🥵

pauline.chalamet what a woman

miramelbourne making me blush I see miss chalamet

pauline.chalamet 😏💋

tchalamet 🤠

miramelbourne no need to be jealous t

tchalamet oh I’m gonna show you who’s jealous

timmyfann AAAAAAAAAAAAA

timmyxmimi SHOW US TOO TIM

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tchalamet

liked by miramelbourne,stephanebak, zendaya and 13,395,285 others

tchalamet TC x MM for chaneloffical

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miramelbourne 😋

tchalamet 🫠

chanelofficial 🖤

tchalafann parents!!!

timmytimmy oh, look at my husband with his girl

benbarnes the second picture tho mhmmm

tchalamet challenge accepted mhmmm

benbarnes fight me boy mhmmm

chalafann LMAO MHMMM

miralotheefan we see ur jealousy boy mhmmm

miramybaby ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS

kissmemira ok but can you guys admit that ur dating already so i can live in peace 🙄

stephanebak i love this

timmyfan04 our guy pretty like a girl 😭

mirasbabygirl the iconic chanel couple 🙌🏻

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miramelbourne

liked by tchalamet, chanelofficial, benbarnes and 19,285,976 others

miramelbourne MM x CC chanelofficial

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tchalamet Ladies and Gentlemen… Miranda Janelle Melbourne.

miramelbourne 🥰

chalametfann we love the man who always supports his girl 🥹

zendaya marry me😡

miramelbourne when? 💋

tchalamet such a fangirl

zendaya yeah, what about it?

chanelofficial love this look 🖤

miramybaby MIRANDA MELBOURNE WORLD DOMINATION

timchalfan Hopefully we'll see her again at the Venice Film Festival! She’d slay as always.

msmelbourne we will girl it’s confirmed!!! 🥹

mimirayray ICON!!!

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mirandaupdates

8,395,174 likes

mirandaupdates my babies 🥹🥹🥹

via tchalametnews on Twitter.

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msmelbourne she’s also wearing his cap and sunglasses 😭

randomuser i wonder how she’s allowed to wear the stuff she wears, i mean not in this one obviously but she always wears revealing clothes and Timothée is a jealous man.

chalafann bruh he always supports her and he has no right to speak about what she wears, which is the fact that he’s aware, hell he probably wears even more revealing clothes than her lol. And Timothée is jealous yes, but not toxic.

timotheefan15 GUYS, GO LOOK FOR TIMOTHÈE’S LAST POST OMFG

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tchalamet

liked by miramelbourne, tomholland2013, florencepugh and 19,285,592 others

tchalamet It’s been a crazy journey, but you can't imagine how grateful I am to have you by my side. You’ve made me a better man since the day I met you. I’m so happy that you’re mine. I can never get enough of you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

I promise you that I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world like you made me the happiest man on earth. And I want to raise a toast to that.

To us.

Happy 2nd anniversary my love, you’re my whole world.

p.s. i know i said i won’t post the first pic but i can’t help it you’re so cute :3

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miramelbourne WHATKDDJSKDJELFJFKK 😭😭😭😭😭

miramelbourne I THINK YOU JUST BROKE ME

tchalamet then come here and cuddle me

miramelbourne THAT’S SO CHEESY LIKE WHATTT

tchalamet hey!!

miramelbourne GOD I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH

tchalamet I love you more

miramelbourne YOU’RE FORGIVEN BTW

tchalamet 🥳

zendaya FINALLY

miralotheefan GIRL YOU KNEW?

florencepugh happy anniversary my babies 🥺

miramelbourne thank you love 💗

tomholland2013 we should celebrate!!

zendaya yesyesyes

tchalamet yep

benbarnes guess you won the challenge huh?

tchalamet as always 😏

henrycavill 🖤

*liked by tchalamet

chanelofficial Happy anniversary 🖤

*liked by tchalamet

timmyxmimi WHAT WHAT WHATTTTT

msmelbourne SO YOU’VE BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME????? FOR TWO YEARS??????

timmytimmy BOYFRIEND TIMOTHEE CONTENT BOYFRIEND TIMOTHEE CONTENT 😩

mirandafann TWO YEARS EXCUSE ME??!!

chalafann I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TWO DATED FOR TWO YEARS AND WE DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THAT

miramybaby I MEAN HOW CAN YOU HIDE IT SO GOOD

timotheefan15 AAAAAAAH 💖💖💖

mirasbabygirl Mira you got him whipped for you girllll 🥹

kissmemira now we’ll see boyfriend Timmy?? 🥹💗

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miramelbourne’s story

#timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #instagram au #timothee chalamet x oc #timothèe chalamet x oc #timothée chamalet #timothee chamalet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x oc #smau #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee imagine #timothee chalamet social media au #timothée x oc #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet x y/n #timothee x y/n #timothèe chalamet #timothee x you

[viking-raider-taglist]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Henry Cavill - Fandom, Henry Cavill RPF, British Actor RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Henry Cavill & Original Female Character(s), Henry Cavill/OFC, Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s), Henry Cavill x OFC - Relationship Characters: Henry Cavill, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Kal | Henry Cavill's Dog Additional Tags: Apocalypse, Post-Apocalypse, Zombie Apocalypse, Eaters - Freeform, Violence, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood, Weapons, Illnesses, Virus, Gun Violence, Bows & Arrows, Post-Apocalyptic America, Death, Supply Runs, Quasi-Slow Burn, Slow Burn, Survival, Survivor Guilt, contagion, Disease, Zombies, friends - Freeform, Siblings, Lovers, Traveling, Made-up super virus, Pandemics, End of the World, Encephalnecrosis, world pandemic, Suicide, Solar power, gruesome, Alternate Universe - Dark, dark themes, Medical Procedures, Language, Angst, Fluff, Depression

Summary:  With Henry and Kal, the group hits the road for a new destination.

#henry cavill #HenryCavill #Henry Cavill RPF #Henry Cavill Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fic #Viking-Raider Fic #Dragon_Dweller #Dragon_Dweller Ao3 #The Cloudless Sun #The Cloudless Sun *fic* #Zombies #apocalpyse #post-apocalypse #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocolypse au #AU #Henry Cavill x OFC #Henry Cavill/OFC #Henry Cavill x Original Female Character #Henry Cavill/Original Female Character #Angst #Fluff #Language #slow burn #End of the world #Original Characters #Kal #Kal Cavill

[tinabean37]

Just gonna leave this here...🥺🥺

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill imagine #henrycavill #henry cavill au #henry cavill prince eric #prince eric #the little mermaid

[itstheimpossibledream]

Only A Play

Part 5 

Word Count: 2213

Pairing: AU Henry x FemBlack!Reader

Warning:  Smut, Angst, Some fluff

Summary:  Can reader & Henry work out their differences or will they be better apart? Breakup sex? Idk it’s the finale let me know what you think!

“ and that’s when I packed my things and came to New York.” Henry finishes.

 You’d been looking down at your hands, trying not to get lost in his features while he spoke, knowing the tabloids would make a day out of it. Angling the photograph and captioning it something cheesy about ‘love being in the air’ or the fact that you’re ‘just in time for Valentine’s Day’. The dating speculations you could take but, the photographic evidence that made your mom ask questions was a different story entirely.Since the show had opened the two of you toured from interview to interview and then performed at night. The day usually culminating in a needy fuck at his apartment or in your dressing room if he couldn’t wait. You stayed at his place often and while it was still mostly in booty-call  territory, (despite the previous year of apartment crashing and drunk declarations of love) the dinners and breakfasts remained consistent. You answered the interviewer’s questions calmly but,nothing could have prepared you for the final follow up. He turns to Henry, “And so aside from your new relationship(he motions to you),have you made any other friends during your time in New York?” He only hesitated slightly,before answering. He smirks but,the curve of his lip is gone before you know it. “I have really enjoyed working with her, and I hope our artistic relationship will flourish long after this production has ended.” he smiles diplomatically while reaching for your hand.“As far as new friends I believe my doorman Jason and I have gotten pretty close.” he laughs. When he laughs, the whole world laughs with him and the audience is no exception.Eventually , the hours of embarrassment have passed and you’re being rushed back into a cab to Henry’s apartment. 

“So what was that?” you say as he closes the door, sliding into the car behind you. 

“What?” he asks blissfully unaware of your annoyance. 

“That whole continuing relationship thing?”you push.

“I said artistic relationship.” he corrected sternly.

 “ You gave them ammo.” you cut back quickly.

“And so what? Two people in a romantic play together are speculated to date?How awful.” He grumbles. 

“You don’t get to make a choice like that before talking to me about it.”

“It wasn’t a choice, it was the truth.” he quips back sternly.

“A truth that will put the tabloids on my ass.It’s been bad since we opened the show but, you and I both know this is only going to make it worse.” you mirrored his tone, clearly losing your cool at the idea of being followed to your apartment by cameras. 

“Well you can stay with me as long as you need.” He says, firmly setting his jaw.You roll your eyes towards the window, Watching the people who pass by. 

“So, this is what it was about? control ?”

“Please!” He scoffs “I don’t need the paparazzi holding your apartment hostage,to get you to stay at my place.You’re practically there every night anyway.” It comes out sounding like more of a complaint than he had meant for it to. Your blood boils with resentment of his comfortability.You can feel the heaviness in your eyes when the car pulls up to his ‘flat’. A term you had started using sarcastically but had slowly begun to stick. Even now, you despised that while being a convenient fuck , he had permeated your subconscious enough to make you even think to refer to it as a flat. 

“What’s on your mind?” he finally asked, breaking the silence that had been holding court in the elevator. He didn’t sound like he really wanted to know, infact he seemed like he was solely asking for courteous purposes and that was it. You turned your entire body to face him, you could feel that no matter how hard you were trying your face had begun to break. 

“You know, you were right. There’s no reason for me to be here.” your lips upturned in a smile as you saw the glassyness of your eyes reflected in his face. It was an odd pain , not one you could name but, one you knew without a doubt was real. You had shared something special, he knew that. But, anyone could see that the lack of compatibility outside of the bedroom left the relationship forever doomed.He rolled his tongue between his lips and you couldn’t help but think of how blissful the silence was between you two. Someone had to say it, and in true fashion Henry was not strong enough. 

“ What are you talking about?!” He followed behind you into the hallway as you fled the elevator, opening the door to the apartment.

“We aren’t compatible Henry. You don’t get me. My lifestyle, my friends,my choices; you think it’s all a fucking joke or something. Well, it’s not,It’s not a fucking joke.It’s my real life. I know we play and talk about how much money you make but when it comes down to it I’ve never seen you put a red cent to helping anyone else. But, you watch me tithe everything I earn to give back to the communities that raised me. If you wanted to be with me, like really wanted to be with me,you would have already invested yourself in the things I find important. Instead, what you do is stand on red carpet at a black, trans fundraising gala and steal the attention once again.”

“I thought you were mad about the interview, now you’re mad about the gala?!?”

“I’m mad about all of it!” you screamed directly into his beautifully manicured face. Not an eyelash out of place and yet he still couldn’t contend with the neatening of his moral compass. 

“I’m mad because you center yourself in any safe space for people of color I take you to.I’m mad because you don’t ask for my opinion or consent before doing anything, because you don’t care.Actually, I’m not even mad anymore.I just see it for what it is.”The tears had started to slowly flow now, and while your pride kept you from full on sobs,a total breakdown was on it’s way without a doubt. You removed your bag from your shoulder,sitting it in the chair by the door and headed to your bedroom. You had graduated from the guest bedroom, to mostly staying in Henry’s bed with him, a convenience thing really. 

“And what is it?” he asked , finally unable to continue being berated by you.

“A mistake.” you said calmly, what had to be mere minutes felt like passing hours, the two of you standing there, looking at eachother, seeing the relationship for what it was. 

He spoke first.

“I love you.” his baritone timbre you had become so accustomed to sounded far away, you questioned if you had even heard him clearly.

“I love you, does that not matter to you at all?”he sounded stern, almost scolding you for not immediately reciprocating his affection.

“It’s not real Hen.” you said between tears “Someone who loves me, wouldn’t need me to explain all the ways his privilege consistently harms me. I wouldn’t have to ask him to donate to causes I’m passionate about, causes I’ve devoted my whole life to getting fundraising for. Someone who loves me would not make party conversation about how their black girlfriend has to sleep with a bonnet on.” He was silent,now. He stepped towards you, closing the void of misunderstanding.

“I'm sorry that I ever made you feel as though you aren’t the most important thing in the world to me.” He kissed your forehead, and then on the top of your head. 

He whispered into your hair but, you could feel his voice reverberating  through your curls.

“Can we not fight tonight ?” You exhaled, relaxing the weight of your body into his. You didn’t have to fight anymore because you heard his answer loud and clear. He didn’t want to fight because he couldn’t.  He could not think of something important enough to cause him discomfort,couldn’t think of anything worth his unhappiness. He placed his hands on either side of your face, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed him back slowly, making up your mind to give in to your emotions for one last time. A spark went through your body as you felt his hands trail their way over your curves. You tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt and he quickly obliged,pulling it over his head. He lightly pushes you towards the bed and when he rolls ontop of you it feels more like a safety net than a sexual maneuver. Even as he undresses you, slowly, kissing over your body. He touches you so gently,assigning value to every square inch of your skin.Before long he’s looking into your eyes as he thrusts into you, rutting his way  inside you of.Your breath hitches as you begin to synchronize your breathing with his, becoming one, breathing as one whole. He held the backs of your knees, pushing them up further into your chest.You cried out at the depth of the new angle and he smiled, moving a hand from the back of your knee to your neck, lightly applying pressure. You loved his hand around your throat, the way his veins looked, the muscles in his arm , all of it. And he knew that, he was pulling out all of his best moves tonight. 

“You’re so bloody beautiful right now.so tight for me.” He murmured close, into your ear. 

His dirty talk alone sent you over the edge but, the added view, from this angle of his body was everything a partner could want. He moaned as he pushed into you , the result of your walls tightening around him. Your spasms brought him over the edge,as he came into you.You latched your nails onto the skin of his back, clawing for safety in his embrace. 

“I love you. I love you.”he said in between kisses as he came down from the high of physical contact. “I love you too.” you returned the words, because they were true and in that moment, nothing could have been more honest.He rolled over onto his back and you snuggled up next to him.

“I do love you” he whispers into your hair. The room is dark,aside from a sliver of light where the moon shone through the blinds. He slowly runs a hand over your hair and down your back.

“Then why haven’t I met your parents yet?” you sighed,turning your head upwards to face him.

The loudest silence of the night fell over the room, that was what made it real to him. He couldn’t deny it anymore. Even he knew, he had never invited you to visit his family, or even out to dinner when they were visiting in the states. You didn’t know if it was that he was embarrassed , or that he just didn’t know how to tell them. You weren’t even upset anymore, as much as you were resigned to the fact that you had to begin putting yourself first, to choose your needs first. And whether you wanted to admit it or not, if you were honest with yourself you knew he wasn’t the one. His brows furrowed and you could tell he was running through every possible response. His hand smoothed it’s way over your hair again and while you had resigned to the fact that it was over you couldn’t help but allow a piece of your heart to break as you saw his eyes become glassy. 

Before long he was fast asleep above you. Henry would be leaving the show, for another movie gig in two weeks but, since the  first rehearsal you hadn’t spent a day without Henry, or Kal for that matter. Sun peeked through the shades as you redressed yourself in the dark , you couldn’t be sure if this was something you wanted, or simply something you knew you had to do. You looked back at that beautiful apartment one more time,and then finally closed the door behind you. You recall the first time you entered the building, that day you had been instructed to bond as you step into the elevator. Watching the city below through the glass,a flicker of light catches your attention, then another and you realize it’s snowing. It had been a full year since the first time you had actually spoken to him. The doorman held the door for you,as you sparked your lighter. Touching the flame to the end of your cig as you stroll down the street.

#henry cavill #henrycavill smut #smut #superman #henrycavill superman #herny cavill sexy #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x ofc #geralt x reader #henry cavill xreader #henrycavill au #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black!female reader #henry cavill rp #henrycavill x y/n #henrycavill fandom #the cavillry #henrycavill series #henry cavill one shot #black reader smut #black reader #onlyaplay

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 19 - Sneakpeak)

The words that left Geralt's mouth felt like a rejection or an offense that King Viduka has never experienced from anyone else. He couldn't believe what he was hearing---he couldn't accept such abnegation over a mutant who was crude and utterly unaccepted by humanity. His highness has quickly stood from his seat, throwing his glass on the floor which has shattered but has not surprised Geralt nor have receive a jerk of his body from his sudden anger---the antagonism coming was a result of a witcher that they have tried contacting or following around for at least two years; begging such help for the future of Kaedwen.

Yet, he came to the palace with his foot up his mouth. Straightaway, sounding like he was declining the proposal.

The king was entirely disappointed by how useless he was being.

"---you are good-for-nothing! A hypocrite who says he does not kill another to save someone else's!" King Viduka has spat completely enraged, "---You have saved your tiny whore by killing mine!"

Toss more chapters to this writer~ Because I've already finished writing chapter 19 and 20~ oh valley of plenty~ 😉😏👀💛💛💛💛

#geralt of rivia #the witcher #seb-owns-these-tatas #henry cavill #hc #geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #geralt x reader #the witcher au #henry #henrycavill #wotn #witcher of the night #witcher of the night sneakpeak