A/N: I had an idea and it won’t leave my brain. Don’t worry, you’re still getting prompts and requests and WIPS, I just needed this out of my head. It’s kind of a different way of doing things, so I hope you guys will love it, because I genuinely loved writing this so much. It really is a VERY different way of writing for me, and i really hope you guys will take it well.
Also, this came idea was born from a conversation I had with my favorite baker/pirate fairy. You know who you are.
You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized anything – whatever you want, you’ll get!
I love y’all so freaking much. Thank you for your support.
Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine, in particular), and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.
MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Henry Cavill x (gender-neutral) reader
Contains: Slight language, fluff, written form
W.C.: 2.000
To you
You unfolded the letter in your hand, settled comfortably in the chair facing the setting sun, a cup of tea steaming on the table next to you and drew a deep breath, a smile lingering on your lips as you saw his handwriting. He always did like to do things in an old-fashioned way.
My love.
I know I could just pick up the phone and call you, even see you, but for some reason, I lose any semblance of thinking and speech when I see your face.
I thought a letter might make you see just how much I miss and love you.
It’s been almost a month since I’ve had a chance to hold you. Feel you. Sense you. It wrecks me every day, that I can’t, although I’m well aware that it’s for a limited time, it doesn’t lessen the hurt or the deprivation I feel.
I thought of something today, as I walked through cobblestone streets, the sun warming my back. I saw a woman, who just had her head angled up to the sun, smiling at it, and it reminded me so much of you, my love. The way you smile.
You have the most beautiful smile, I’ve ever known. I never told you this, but God, it’s the first thing I fell in love with. It’s so secretive at first, barely a smile, really, but then your lips curl, the right side before the left, and then you break into this wide smile, that rivals the warmth of a thousand suns. It’s my favorite thing to see.
That smile is one thing, but the other one, the one you reserve just for me? I could live in it. It’s the single most perfect thing, I’ve ever had the absolute pleasure of seeing. You don’t see it yourself, but it’s the one you give me when you’re right between awake and asleep, while morning light streams in from outside. It’s soft and gentle and your lower lip just out a little bit, before you open your eyes and find me. Then you smile fully, and a little dimple pops out, and I have lost myself in the memory of that smile for ages.
I wish I could adequately describe my love for you, I truly do. I don’t believe there’s words enough in the world, nothing grand enough, to encompass the way I love you. Trust me, I’ve tried, and one day I might be better with words, and I’ll use only the good words to describe my love, or the way I love you, right. For now, I hope you’ll bear with me, while I try my hardest.
I love you in the same way as the blind man loves the sun. He never sees the beauty of it, oh, but he feels it. The warmth, that radiates from beyond, the gentle winds the sun brings with it. It’s like a caress with fingers, that ghost across your forehead, that wind. That’s the way it feels to love you.
It’s as effortless as breathing, just as instinctual, loving you. It’s the easiest thing, I’ve ever done, falling in love with you. No, not falling, walking willingly from a ledge, and plummeting endlessly into the great expanse of the world, because it was you. Your world.
You’re the sun, the moon, the stars and the very air I breathe, my darling. I am thankful and so lucky to somehow be weaved into your life and you as you are, because I cannot for a single second imagine how I would ever breathe freely without you. I have a hard time remembering how I did it before I met you.
I love you. I love in the same way as children laugh with their whole body, all teeth and laughter, no care or worry. It’s as effortless and joyful as I exist in this world, to love you.
You are effervescent and everlasting to me. When I close my eyes, I see your eyes. When I smile, it’s an extension of yours. I am truly weaved completely into you, and you are now in my cells, my very being, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that.
I believe in finding people in life, that somehow guide you to a new path. You didn’t guide me to a new path, you were a new path. You cleaved your way through a dense forest, making a trail without a single stone, branch, or leaf on the ground, and held my hand. I’ve never looked back, you know.
I’d happily be falling for an eternity, because I know it would somehow lead to you. My heart has always been yours, fully and without a doubt or a worry, even before I knew you. I think, if I’m being honest, you’ve held my heart in your hands since the day I was born. It never really belonged to me, did it? It was yours to keep from the very first time, it gave a beat. Held in your soft hands. You hold it like you would hold a butterfly, so gently and cautiously, because you somehow just know what it needs. You’ve always known.
I’d walk through an endless desert to find you, my love. I have, it feels like. You are my haven, the absolute and final ending to everything, I’ve ever done. I believe every step I’ve ever taken has led me straight to you, and I sometimes curse myself for not walking faster, because I would give my soul to spend a moment more with you. There will never be time enough for me, I will never have years enough, even if we both lived to see the world end. No, it wouldn’t be, my love, because it would end, and I can’t have a world exist anywhere without you in it.
If there’s any truth to, it’s the stars. They can’t lie, and they exist in a different reality, it would seem sometimes. You are my stars, the only truth that would ever matter.
I miss you. God, I miss you. I miss the simple things, like the way your thumb always rests on my wrist, when I hold your hand. The way you laugh, because it is a string of pearls, that just float through me. The way you hold me at night, like I would run during the night, and you need to make sure I stay in place.
I will never, ever leave. Just in case you didn’t know. My home is you.
The night has fallen here now, and it’s a little past midnight now. It means a day less until I see your beautiful face, your eyes full of stars, and feel you in my arms again.
I love you, my forever. Because that’s what you are. Forever etched into me, forever holding my heart, forever. You, my love, are the reason I can breathe.
I’ll see you soon, darling.
Love,
Henry
PS: Please kiss Kal on the head for me. I promise, he’ll kiss you right back for me, as well.
You folded the letter again, clutching it to your chest with a smile on your lips. Your tea had grown cold, but it didn’t matter much to you.
A/N: I’m slowly, but surely making my way through my prompt-list for the month of May! There’s still some left to choose from, so get your cute little butts to the list and pick out what you’d like to see! I hope y’all will enjoy it, because I sure as hell loved writing it!
Prompt: “Did you not notice me flirting at all?” “You’re very hard to read! “It’s been TWO YEARS!”
You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one shot or multichapter fic, with whatever you want in it!
Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine in particular) and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits because I am me, and I have none!
MASTERLIST
PROMPTLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus sized!Female reader
Contains: Language, fluff, sort of coworkers to lovers, straight, pure fluff to rot your teeth on such a fine Thursday, Henry being an absolute SNACK
W.C.: 2.277
Dirty little secret
It wasn’t that Henry didn’t know he was attractive. Hell, he had even used it a few times to his own gain; a smile, a wink here and there, and he’d mostly get what he asked for. Sometimes even things, he didn’t ask for.
But Y/N had been completely unfazed by him – you had smiled softly right back and looked very confused, when Henry winked at you between sets. That had been two years ago, and he was growing pretty annoyed that you were so hard to fluster. It had become sort of a habit to him to try and flirt – at first, it was just to see if you picked up on it – but now it was a battle of will.
He liked you. Actually, he had mused to himself during a night-shoot in frigid temperatures, when he saw you hand out homemade hot cocoa from your own thermos to every, single person working that night, he might be in love.
You were easy to be around. You always carried yourself as if you were being lifted by gentle winds, your smile was infectious and your laugh, God, don’t get him started on your laugh. It was insane, the power you held over him.
It hadn’t made it easier when you became friends – of course, it was pretty inevitable, seeing as you were both regulars on The Witcher and had been since it started – and you were just… Perfect. You had baked him a birthday-cake, for crying out loud. With not enough candles, which you had told him was to his own benefit, so he didn’t think about how old he’d gotten.
You were fucking beautiful, too. In such an unassuming, very unrecognized way. He had told you once that he thought you were stunning, when you wore that damned bottle-green dress to a red carpet, but you had blushed and told him, he didn’t need to lie. You were used to it.
He didn’t understand that at all. To him, you were delectable, if he had to chose a word to describe you; round and luscious, curves and thighs that made him want to bury his face in you – all in all, he had to compliment himself on his sheer willpower, when you asked him to held you hook your damn garter-belt back to your thigh high and had hoisted your dress up just enough. His fingers were burning for days afterwards with the memory of your warm, soft skin under the pads of them.
And now, he was staring at you as you laughed your head off with Anya, tears welling in your eyes. He barked a laugh out when your makeup-artist scolded you with a stern face.
“Laugh it up, Cavill, you’re the one getting covered in goo.” You shouted at him, and fucking winked at him. He might die from a heart attack these days.
“Be careful, or I’ll cover you in goo.” He yelled back, and practically felt his toes retreat into his body. Flirting was normally not an issue for him, but with you, he was reduced to a teenager, apparently. You didn’t mind, throwing your head back and laughed loudly, a cute little snort following.
“Sure, thing, darling, bring it on.” He tried not to let the thought of you covered in something else entirely get too much to him.
It was like a dirty little secret, how much he wanted you.
When it came to press-tours, the PR-team had decided that you were the only one who could handle interviews with him. They had been very vocal about the fact that Henry and Joey would be a match made in hell, that Anya and Freya had way too much chemistry to try and separate them; and Kim and Joey were simply perfect for co-interviews. Right bastards, really, because they – especially Joey – had made a very big deal out of a little crush. Joey was constantly wagging his stupid brows at Henry, whenever he talked to Y/N, while Kim gave Henry a stern “dad-talk”, threatening to cut each of his limps off, starting with the one between his legs if he ever as much as curled a hair on Y/N’s head.
And then the teasing had begun. You had been none the wiser, simply thinking it was all in good fun, but oh lord, those two were absolute menaces.
So, that’s why you were seated next to Henry in a way too small couch – he wasn’t sure if it was actually small, he was big or he just felt like he was touching all too much of you, when your PR-manager came over. The PR-team had even gone as far as saying that you two had extraordinary energy together, and that had sealed the deal, apparently; Henry wasn’t exactly opposed to the energy you had with him, but he was, however, very concerned about the fact that his heart was beating out of his chest.
“You know, I can hear your gears turning, Henry.” You mumbled, nudging his shoulder. “All good?”
“You’re next to me, why wouldn’t it be?” He said with a grin. You bit your lip.
“You’re absolutely insane.”
“About you, yes.” You rolled your eyes.
“Reel it in, Casanova, save it for the ladies.”
“Are you not a lady?” He couldn’t help the grin on his face; this was the first time you’d willingly entertained a conversation that started with flirting, although he suspected either it was nerves or you just being blissfully unaware that it was actual flirting. You were about to answer when the interviewer came into view.
“I’m so happy to meet you both! I’m such a fan, Y/N, your last independent movie? It was an absolute joy to see.” Henry grinned at you.
“Aw, thank you. I’m glad someone likes my weird movies.” The interviewer grinned, and Henry didn’t miss the way her eyes flicked to your arm, which had somehow linked around Henry’s.
“Alright, are you guys ready to get the show on the road?”
“Sure are.” Henry replied, smiling softly.
He didn’t want to think too hard about the way your thumb rubbed circles on the crease of his elbow, or he might lose all remembrance of speech.
The interview was pretty clean, nothing out of the ordinary. He liked hearing your answers, as he always did, and he answered gracefully himself, whenever asked.
“So, there’s some rumors going around.” The interviewer said, a wide smile on her lips.
“There’s plenty of those, I imagine.” Y/N answered and laughed. “Remember the rumor about Jaskier secretly being a Witcher?” Henry nodded.
“Or the one about Yennefer somehow being Ciri’s mother?” henry asked, and you both laughed.
“While those are all good, this is actually about the two of you!” The interviewer said, straightening her back a little.
“Oh, boy.” You swallowed thickly. You had told him at a wrap-party that you always feared the rumors; you were a little intimidated by the rumor-mill, and, you confided, worried that most of them was about your weight equaling your success and or talent. Henry found it ludicrous; you had more talent in your pinky than he did in his entire body. He untangled his arm from yours, and slowly, almost secretively, wrapped it around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen the many videos about you two?” You both shook your head.
“Oh, wow, you need to!” The interviewer grinned. “There’s a lot of compilations of you two, most of them titled something along the lines of Henry being in love with Y/N for five minutes straight and…” The interviewer looked at her cards. “Y/N being unaware of Henry being a lovesick puppy for ten minutes straight.” She laughed a little.
“Wow, I didn’t think…” Y/n trailed off, looking to Henry for help. He was happy to do so.
“Me neither. I mean, we’ve seen some of the ones with Joey and Anya, mostly because Joey is a narcissist who loves when people talk about him…” Henry laughed. “But we didn’t know people made them about us.” He willed the stupid blush to disappear from his face.
“Well, there’s plenty. I was just thinking, and judging by the videos, so are your fans, is there any truth to it?” You laughed.
“Oh, no, we’re just friends.” Henry frowned.
“Hey, now, that’s a little presumptuous of you to say.” You quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Well…” he smiled. “I’m just saying, you can’t really just speak for the both of us.” You chuckled.
“Do you have a thing for me, Henry?” You asked playfully, clearly expecting him to laugh along. He supposed no time was like the present.
“Yes.” You coughed, choking a little on your own spit, while the interviewer breathed out a oh my God – she was about to hit the damn jackpot with this.
“I’m sorry?” You stared at him with wide eyes. He shrugged.
“Yes. I have a thing for you. Several, in fact.” You spluttered.
“But I… Y-wh…. What?” He smiled and turned to the interviewer.
“I think we’ll round out, if that’s alright.” She nodded, dumbfounded, and Henry stood, pulling you to your feet, saying your goodbyes and then dragged you to the green room, where he locked the door behind him.
“Henry, you can’t joke about…” You began.
“I wasn’t joking. Why would I joke about that?” He asked as an afterthought.
“I don’t know! Just… Maybe to get me… I don’t know.” You grumbled and sat down heavily in the chair next to the desk full of fruits and snacks.
“You… Seriously have a thing for me?”
“Well, yes… Did you not notice me flirting at all?” You shrugged.
“You’re very hard to read.” He groaned.
“IT’S BEEN TWO YEARS!” He said in a loud voice. You looked to him.
“Wait, so… All those weird comments about… Like… Goo and all that, that was true?” You asked with the hitn of a smile on your lips.
“Oh, the goo-one… Not my best.” He said, blushing at the memory. “But yeah, all in all.”
“Oh, my… So, at your birthday, when you said you’d be happy to grow old, if I was next to you, you weren’t like… Making a weird nursing home reference?” You asked in a breathy voice.
“No. I honestly thought that was enough to make you understand what I felt, but you are willfully ignorant, sometimes, my love.” He said, sitting down in front of you – he was kneeling, his large hands splayed out on your thighs.
“My best friend calls it romance-selective hearing.” You giggled, your eyes locked on his hands.
“Darling, I’m serious. If you had been paying attention, you’d have noticed how much I look at you. Want to be near you. How badly I want to just…” His grip tightened on your thighs.
“Anyway, yes, I do feel… I have a thing or a million for you, but who’s counting?” He said with a soft smile.
“I cannot. With you. Like… This. Dude, you’ve dated people, who are the size of my wrist.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Is that what you’re worried about?” You nodded once.
“Love…” He gently put two fingers under your chin and had to physically restrain himself from attacking your lips right then and there, when your eyes landed on his and a tiny, little, very sensual whimper tumbled from your lips. He would store that information for later use.
“I really couldn’t care if you were the size of a tulip or a whale. I like you for you, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. Seriously. I still dream of you wearing that damned green dress…” he smiled at you. “I mean it, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my hopeful eyes on, and it has been torture to try and get you to understand how badly I want you, when you clearly didn’t care too much for my flirting.” You grinned at him.
“I guess you’ve lost your flair, Cavill.” He leaned in, testing the waters; your breath hitched, and he assumed it was safe enough to press his lips against yours softly.
At least, that’s what he intended for it to be, but he was surprised by your reaction; you gasped against his lips and threw your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss instantly. He groaned and stood, simply pulling you with him, until your feet didn’t touch the ground anymore, and you wrapped them around his waist. You kissed hungrily, both of you trying to keep your hands to yourself. It was a public space, after all. You pulled away with a sigh and he lowered you back to the ground.
He never realized just how much he towered over you, until he had to – oh no, how awful – lift your head with two fingers under your chin again, that delightful little whimper coming right back. Your lips were swollen.
“Lost my flair, have I?” He asked, his voice hoarse. You grinned, and that beautiful smile could light up any day, night or life for him.
“I suppose you haven’t entirely… That depends, though.” He kissed you again, holding back, so you wouldn’t end up doing something stupid, like screwing in the middle of the green room.
“Depends on what, love?” He kissed your forehead, simply not able to resist having his lips on you in any capacity.
“How much you like pizza, lord of the rings and how well you cuddle.” He smiled brighter than the sun, clasping his hand with yours.
“I am going to snuggle the everloving shit out of you, Y/N Y/L/N.”
A/N: The fact that you guys love this idea and are as invested in it as I am, makes me literally giggle with joy and pride. I love this story and it’s been a dream of mine to finally get to publish it somewhere – I’m really glad that you guys love it.
You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, oneshot or multichapter fic – the world is your oyster, so anything you want, you’ll get!
I love y’all.
Remember, feedback feeds the soul, and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.
MASTERLIST
SERIES MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x female reader
Contains: Language, fluff, slight angst, Henry being an idiot in love, mentions of death, mentions of a graveyard, sad vibes (but like, also loving)
W.C.: 3.748 (sorry)
Stars and butterflies
When Henry was a child, he watched Mary Poppins probably once a week. It was magic to him, this woman teeming with adventure and fun, and he once decided that if she could fly with an umbrella, so could he.
It was the briefest of seconds, where he jumped from the roof of his father’s shed to when he hit the ground, but in between that, between the hard ground and a broken arm, he had flown. He was soaring for the briefest of moments, gleefully and convinced of his own power, before his hubris made him crash on the ground.
That’s how he felt, when he saw Y/N walk towards him in a flowy, light blue summerdress, her eyes sparkling and her smile infectious. Like he was soaring through air, the unknown of the hard ground not really in his mind, because she looked like what he had dreamed of when he was a child.
Adventure.
Before he had met with her, while he was pulling on his shirt and jacket, his eyes lingered on the passage from a book, that hung in his hallway; the frame was flaking and the gold had chipped several places, the page, from which the quote rested on, was frayed.
“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”
It had been one, Y/N had torn from her own, tattered and beat version of Captain Corelli’s Mandolin and it stood out to him in more ways than one.
First of all, it was from a book, he had never read – but now had made his mission to read – and second, the unbridled truth that lay between the words, gave his frail, dusty heart a run for its money.
He had tapped the frame with his thumb once, a gesture he had gotten too used to doing as a comfort before he left his house, and closed the door behind him, making his way to the restaurant they had decided to meet at. He wasn’t picking her up, because to her, this wasn’t a date. It was simply dinner between friends.
At least, that’s what he tried to make himself believe.
So when he saw her, the wind catching on the hem of her dress as she walked to him, he had to repeat not a date, not a date, not a date several times over in his head.
“Hi.” She said breathlessly. Her lips were the colors of roses.
“Hi.” He replied, just as breathlessly. His tie matched her dress. He offered her his arm and she weaved hers with his, walking to the hostess to find their table. The hostess led them to the table, sitting in a corner near a window, and she smiled down at them as they sat down.
“A waiter will be with you in just a moment.” She left and Henry’s eyes found Y/N again. To him, she was the epitome of beauty; she probably didn’t know just how much space she took up with the radiance, or how large a part of his life, her smile had become. She smiled softly at him.
“I didn’t even know this place existed.” She mused. “it’s quaint. Not really what I imagined your scene would be.” He chuckled.
“What did you think my scene was?” He asked curiously. She shrugged.
“Expensive.” He snorted in a very unsexy way.
“Ah, yes. The marvelous taste of expensive.” He smiled widely at her. “No, I quite like these kinds of places. They seem more comfortable and relaxed.” She nodded.
“I agree. This is way more my speed.” They fell into silence as the waiter came over, and they both gave their orders and she watched him with careful eyes.
“Henry.” The way she said his name made him feel alive, like he had been stuck in a desert and finally found water.
“Y/N.” She tried to hide a smile, and for a brief second, he wondered if she felt the same as him, when he said her name.
“Can I ask you something?”
“I think you’re going to no matter what.” He grinned. She laughed:
“Alright.” She took a deep breath.
“Is this a date?” he froze, not sure how to respond – he didn’t want to overstep, nor did he want to seem like he didn’t want to be on a date with her. Or, even worse, seem like he was as infatuated with her, as he was.
“Do… do you want it to be?” He asked slowly, gauging her reaction. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed a hand on her forehead, her nose scrunching up as she thought.
“I…” She paused and his heart faltered. “Here’s the thing.” She looked at him with a measured gaze, almost as if she was trying to remove herself a little from the situation.
“I do and I don’t. I can’t pretend that I don’t… Feel something around you, but…” She bit her lip. “Remember the conversation we had at the market? How I’m a grenade?” He nodded.
“I meant that. I’m a grenade, I will explode at some point, and I would hate to see you in the receiving end of that.” His heart stuttered and picked back up, impossibly fast now, as if it was trying to beat its way out of his chest and straight into hers.
He couldn’t avoid the truth. The heavy, terrifying truth of the matters of the heart; that she had owned his since she had stepped inside of his office for the first time with her smile and snappy remarks.
“I don’t think you’re a grenade.” He answered slowly, keeping quiet as the waiter came with their food. When she had left, he looked back at Y/N.
“I think you’re… Scared. Just as everyone else is. But I don’t think of you as a grenade. I think of you as…” He wondered if it would be too much too soon to tell her how he truly saw her.
“I see you as someone, who hides away a little bit to avoid the unavoidable.”
“The unavoidable being…?” She asked.
“Love, I suppose.” She was silent after that, spinning her fork in the pasta in front of her.
“I think… That I want to be this to be a date. I also happen to think that most of what we’ve done already has been dates, although we weren’t really aware of it.” She said slowly, looking up at him.
“I don’t want you to fall in love with me, Henry, because I want to spare you more pain.”
“Is that not up to me? Is it not my decision, how much pain I’m willing to suffer?” He asked, stabbing a carrot, but kept his eyes on her. Her eyes truly were stars, the small candle reflecting in a thousand suns in her eyes.
“Maybe. Maybe I just want to make sure that you aren’t… Going into something without knowing what you’re signing up for.” He tilted his head a little and saw her chest heave.
“And what am I signing up for?”
“Does it matter?” She smiled softly at him. “Have you not already decided that it doesn’t matter much to you?” It always surprised him just how well she knew him. She ate some of her food, while he thought.
In truth, yes. He didn’t care. Not the slightest. He would gladly take a lifetime of pain and grief if it meant he had a mere moment with her, while she looked at him like this again.
Another part of him worried that he was jumping headfirst into a pool of deep water, no end in sight, and he was going to lose himself in it. That she was truthful when she thought herself a grenade, not in the metaphorical sense, but in the most literal of ways.
“How about this.” He leaned over the table a little and smiled. “We try. No… Expectations. We just see each other in the way we have up until now. I enjoy your company far too much to deprive myself of it, and if that means you’d rather me be your friend, I’ll take it.” He said. It was the truth. He’d take any moment with her over none. She hummed once,
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeated. She grinned.
“Okay.” As her laughter died down, she wiped her eyes. “You know, that’s actually a quote from a young adult novel.”
“Is it, now?” he asked, warmth blossoming in his chest.
“Mhm. The fault in our stars.”
“Ah. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.” He said slowly.
“You know an awful lot of quotes, Henry.” He shrugged.
“I read an awful lot of books.”
Dinner went by faster than he would’ve liked and when he paid – she insisted that he shouldn’t, but when she went to the bathroom, he had managed to take care of the bill – he has a small want for a time machine to repeat this night over, and over, and over.
“You paid it, didn’t you?” Her voice sent shivers down his spine. He stood from his seat with a smirk, towering over her.
“I did.” She rolled her eyes.
“Ever the gentleman, I see.”
They left together and, because he was a selfish man who had a hard time letting go of beauty – he suggested a walk through the nearby park. The sky was a deep blue, almost black, littered with stars and a bright moon. The wind was gentle over their bodies. She nodded and they fell into easy steps, walking to the park.
When the gravel under their feet began crunching and they were safely tucked away between trees, he reached out and weaved his fingers through hers. The simple gesture was enough to make his entire soul burn.
The space between her fingers were right where his fit perfectly.
She didn’t comment on it, but simply held tightly to his fingers, and they walked in silence for a while.
“Don’t think this excludes you from finding the joys in life.” She said in a quiet voice.
“I never expected it would.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked, uncertainty lingering just on the edge of his words, molded by his lips. She bit her lip.
“I, uh… Yeah. Yeah, you can. I want to show you something.” His chest swelled, and without even realizing that the thought crossed his mind, it rang through his head.
I could get used to this.
----------
He frowned and looked back to his GPS on his phone, slightly miffed of where it had led him. He found the message from Y/N and compared the address – it was the same, but it didn’t lessen the confusion.
He stood in a graveyard.
He began to move through rows after rows of stones, some old and worn by weather and the years, some new and shining against the sun.
His heart lurched every once in a while, when he spotted a teddy bear or angel wings resting on the headstone or near it, and his feet sped up a little to pass them faster. He saw her in under a large birch-tree, sitting cross-legged in front of a headstone. He found her eyes and recognized the sadness that lingered there – he knew the type of sorrow all too well. He sat down next to her, keeping quiet. The graveyard was beautiful, daffodils and swaying grass reminding him that summer was coming.
“My parents.” She finally said, her voice a little constricted, and pointed to the headstone. He swallowed thickly and couldn’t stop the feeling of overwhelming respect for Y/N – to let him see her in this vulnerable state, something so private, made him swell with several emotions.
“You know, they are the reason I believe in love. She whispered, fingers twirling a recently plucked daisy from the earth next to her. She glanced at the stone and wiped something invisible off before she began talking again.
“They met when they were both young, stupid and living in Cornwall, of all places.” Her lips lifted gently into a smile full of reverie. “My dad… He spent every cent he made on flowers to my mom, leaving them in front of her door, until my grandmother poked her head out one night to tell him off. The house smelled like a morgue, she said.” Henry chuckled a little.
“My mom… She, uh, was sick. Had been for a while, when she finally agreed to go out with him. They went to a poppy-field, had a picnic and when the day was over, my dad told her that he’d be happy to be swallowed whole by the world, if it meant he could see her smile again. My mom…” Y/N’s smile widened. “Told him that that wouldn’t be necessary.” Henry leaned back, looking at the names etched in grey slat.
“They moved in together after a month, got married after a year. Had me two years later.” She swallowed thickly, her eyes misty. “They loved unconditionally. I’ve never met anybody who loved that deeply, that hard or understood the facets of life better than those two. It was a joy to watch them bicker as a kid, because it always ended with my mom telling my dad he was a dick, laughing and then they would dance in the kitchen, despite the fact, that there rarely was music.” She rubbed her arm, and Henry reached out to take her hand in his. She smiled gratefully.
“My mom… She got sicker every day. I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that there would be an end. And then one day, they weren’t dancing in the kitchen anymore. My dad sat on a chair, the same table, same room, but so, so different, and he never really got back up. He went a few months after. He had always said, that he’d die of a broken heart, because death sure as shit wasn’t going to get him with something generic.” She sniffed.
“I lived with my grandmother for a while, until I was old enough to find my own place. I started studies, she got older and then, she went too. My grandma was waiting, she always said.” She glanced at Henry, who raised an eyebrow. “A story for another time.” She looked down at their intertwined fingers.
“And then I was it. All that’s left of the people who loved harder and more than enough to fuel the entire world, lay here. Under stone and cold earth, cobwebs tenting their heads. It's always seemed bizarre to me, that someone who left such a mark is just as easily forgotten.” She smiled sadly.
“When I was a kid, I liked to think that maybe, if I thought heard enough, I’d remember names of people, who passed and I didn’t know, just so someone would remember them, because everyone must’ve made an imprint on the world.”
Henry was just about to combust. The sadness and profound truth in her words made his heart ache, and a part of him felt immense sorrow for the child, who didn’t get to experience everything, she should. How Y/N could’ve ever managed to think like that, he didn’t understand.
Death had always been heavy, an absolute to the life, we didn’t choose ourself, but the way she talked about people…
He vowed to himself right then and there, that he would make sure she was remembered. He didn’t care if he had to write her name and plaster her face on every surface in the world, but that heart, the belief in people, needed to be remembered by more than just him. Her selflessness as well.
She spoke again, her eyes trained on the stone.
“My mom was buried with her ring and a lock of my hair. My dad was buried with a picture of my mom. I hope they found each other in the end. Maybe they’re still dancing in their own, little version of a kitchen.” She smiled happily.
“I’d like to think they do. And maybe, they’re looking down at me and think to themselves that they did something right.” Henry smiled and couldn’t help himself. He lifted their connected hands and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles.
If he was unsure if he was in love before, he wasn’t anymore. No, he was in love. The certainty of it was the same as the certainty that the universe existed, that the ocean was deep, and that people lived and died.
“I’m sure they do.” He really didn’t have anything else to say, so they sat in silence for a while, simply gazing at the stone in front of them.
A blue butterfly landed on the top of it, wings slowly moving. She smiled.
At some point, they shifted, and he was leaning his back against the birch-tree, her between his legs, her back to his chest, and he was drawing patterns on her bare arm.
“Tell me about your family.” Her voice was clear as spring.
“Oh, er, sure.” He drew a deep breath and a smile ghosted the left side of his lips.
“I’m one out of five boys.” She whistled.
“Holy hell.”
“You have no idea.” He laughed. “I’m second-to-youngest and I’m the only one who didn’t join the military. My parents…” He smiled down at her as she twisted her head up to look at him. “They got married in the 70’s. They’re still very much in love, but in the coy, understated, very British way. I’m the only who isn’t married, much to my mother’s chagrin. We were quite a bunch of kids, us five. Kept our mum on her toes. She says that we’re the reason she’s gone grey, which I highly doubt. I think it’s my father, but who really keeps track?” She giggled.
“I love them a lot. Of course, we all have had ups and downs, but mostly, I’m just glad to… I don’t know, feel that kind of respect and familiarity?” he asked into the air. She nodded, her hair sliding against his chest.
“I understand that.” They fell back into comfortable silence again, the wind blowing strands of her hair around. He realized with the steady thrum of his heart, that he’d never want to be anywhere but here, right now. Her head against his chest, her steady breathing, the birds singing over their heads – yes, maybe some authors had it right. Love was maybe not a feeling, as much as it was a state of mind, a place, that seemed normal and unassuming to anybody else – but to you, it would seem like the most important part of the world. This birch-tree right next to her parents, after her story of them, seemed to him like the single most important, incredible, and fantastical place, he had ever been.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice was a little cracked, the nerves shaking it and she turned to face him, waiting for his question. He swallowed.
“Do… Would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asked in a hushed whisper, scared that she’d pull away from him. She glanced at the stone, her eyes scanning her parents’ names, before she turned her head back to face him.
“I’ll allow it.”
With his heart in his throat, he bent his head down as she stretched upwards, and before he knew it, their lips met.
If he had not been sitting down already, he would have tumbled to his knees.
Who knew the world could stop spinning, be sucked into a black hole only to reappear on someone’s lips?
Her lips were soft and cautious, just like the blue butterfly’s wings, hesitant even. He kissed her gently, his hand cupping her cheek and he wished for time itself to stop, freeze this very moment, so he could be in it forever. She tasted like peaches and something inherently Y/N, and it was downright addictive. He forgot how to breathe when the smallest of whimpers met his lips, and he slowly, ever so cautiously, let his tongue dart over her lower lip.
She greeted him openly, letting him in, and he met her tongue, deepening the kiss – it was truly a work of wonder to kiss her.
The kiss seemed to last forever or a second, he forgot to hold time somewhat reliable at this moment, and since one had to start it, someone else had to end it.
She drew back, her soft, pink lipstick smeared a little and her eyes wide, but a small smile playing on her slightly swollen lips. He wished he had a camera to capture her as she was right at this second. She didn’t speak, but simply put her head back against his chest and tangled her fingers with his. He had gotten some color over the last weeks, so her hand looked unnaturally pale and even blueish against his warmer, more tanned skin.
They began packing their things after a while – not without him sneaking several kisses from her lips – and as they left, her in front of him, he put his hand on the stone marking the life of her parents.
“Thank you. For her. For you and for making her believe in things, that seem utterly impossible for the rest of the mortal world to understand.”
The blue butterfly returned and landed on his hand.
He didn’t see the way Y/N’s lips curled into a smile, nor did he see her lift her head to the sky, closing her eyes against the sun in a silent thank you.
A/N: It’s the end of monday, which marks the end of one-shot weekend - and what better way to do it than with a request? This is from @one-sweet-gubler who’s literally the best for requesting and wanting my writing! Hope it pleases you!
Request: You always know what I want! So I’m back! Can I get a fluffy Henry. Like uber duper fluffy. Life has been kicking my butt and I just need all the fluff and comfort.
You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic – whatever you want, you get!
Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none!
Love y’all so much, thank you for being part of this crazy ride.
MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Henry Cavill x female reader
Contains: language, fluff, Henry being a straight up puppy dog
W.C.: 1.550
All is fair in books and war
Persuasion
He couldn’t stop looking at you as you walked around set, greeting every, single new person – cater, PA, runner, actor – everybody got a hug and that smile, that graced your lips in the same way, as the sun would light up a day, when it peeked out from behind clouds. Your eyes twinkled and you were talking like you weren’t bathed in fake blood and a thin shirt in minus degrees.
He couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, when he watched you like that. Every scene with you made him feel just a little tight around the chest, every time your character had to touch him, his breath hitched, and your eyes found him in a way, that made him long for you. Your conversations between scenes flowed effortlessly, as if you had known each other forever, simply catching up, and he looked forward to every conversation, you had, however brief.
At some point, your hand found his shoulder, bicep, hand and squeezed gently whenever you talked to him. He found yours as well. You talked into the early hours of the morning, hushed whispers on the phone as you both laid in different beds.
Press was becoming more and more a fight about who could flirt the most to make the other one blush, and you both sat in the green rooms and laughed lightly at the many edits about “Henry and Y/N being lovesick idiots for 5 minutes straight” that poured out from fans – he enjoyed looking at the tiny screen with you, because your laughter was like a breath of spring, while you were sitting so close, you were almost in his lap.
At one point, an interviewer had asked about the edits and how much truth there was to them, and you had giggled, and he had turned slightly to you.
“You know, maybe they have something right.” He had said with his heart in his throat. You had looked surprised.
“Oh, really?” He nodded, the interviewer following the conversation with wide eyes.
“Why aren’t we something?”
“That’s a really good question. Want to be my lovesick idiot?” You had asked.
“Always.” He replied with a smile, that rivalled the sun.
North and South
It was funny, how love worked. He fell in love more and more each day, every day proved something new he could love; at first, it was the bigger things.
Like how you always made sure he was okay during press and stressful days. The way you hugged him like you wanted to crack his back, because he had told you once, that the squeezing grounded him. The way your pinky always wrapped around his when you were out.
Then it became the way your smile was different when you woke up versus your smile at the end of the day. The way your eyes would light up like you were seeing a wonder of the world, whenever you caught his eyes.
You learned chess for him. He read out loud to you.
You had endless discussions about nothing and everything because you kept him on his toes – you were north and south but fit perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle.
He loved waking up with you in his arms. No matter how you fell asleep, you always woke up, curled into him, face boring into his chest and your arms around him – you told him it was because it made you feel safe.
He enjoyed your weird coffee-orders, that changed just as often as one would change socks.
You loved wearing his button-downs, calling them shirtdresses. He laughed at that, because they weren’t and you were swimming in them, the fabric simply swallowing you.
He asked you to move in with him on a rainy Saturday night, the rain rushing down in droves outside of your little bubble. You were huddled against his side, Pride and Prejudice opened on your lap, snuggled under a blanket.
You had smiled at him in that way, the one where the corners of your eyes crinkled and your nose scrunched up, the right side of your lips curling before the left and he – in that very moment – realized how blessed he was because he met you and you chose him. He felt the insurmountable weight of the words of love resting on his soul, chaining him to this place, this couch, this very moment, and he’d have it no other way.
You had said yes.
A room with a view
Yes, Henry considered himself lucky. He had a good life, a good job, and now, he had you. You, standing in front of him wearing a white dress that you had bought from the internet and flats, a bunch of garden flowers in your hands and your smile, that everlasting part of perfection, etched on your face.
You had decided to marry in your backyard. He had agreed, just wanting to call you by his last name. He didn’t care how or when, but simply wanted you to be completely his. So, here you were, surrounded by a ragtag group of friends and family, as you both laughed and danced and sang and drank, joy beaming from every cell in his very being.
It was the easiest yes, he’d ever given, and whenever he looked down at your intertwined fingers and saw the silver band rest on your finger, a sense of pride and belonging filled him; you were his as he was yours, a forever that couldn’t start soon enough and would end all too soon, even if you’d both live to become 200 years old. Life was simply too short to see and love every facet of you and soak in the reality of your warmth and love, simply too short to experience all of you.
Eternity wouldn’t last for long enough, he thought, gazing out on the darkened garden covering in string lights and candles.
Eternity seemed like too small a word, like the infinite universe seemed to little, when he compared it to you; for him, you carried universes bathed in endless stars and moons and suns, shining so brightly, he sometimes felt blinded. You were as vast as an endless sea, the depth of you too deep to fully grasp, and he would fall forever, if it meant he was falling into you.
Yes, whatever souls were made of, yours and his were made of the same.
The age of innocence
It didn’t matter how many years would come to pass, nor would it matter much that gray had begun seeping into the brown locks of his hair. He was still laughing and loving like a teenager with you.
The endless array of edits, videos and tweets about him being a fool in love made both of you laugh, and later, it would prove to be a piece of your life together, you both used to show your children how you fell in love.
Henry cared little about life outside of the family, they had created together; your daughter, who was a spitting image of him and your son, who looked like your grandfather, Kal and you and Henry had made up this perfect constellation of stars, that was meant to shine brighter, when they were lined up next to each other.
it was mostly chaos confined in a house, all contained carefully by mother’s love and father’s eyes – the two children were truly, a perfect match of the two of you and it made for a dangerous game, when they put their heads together.
You were always gentle, and he rather loved seeing how the lines of your face became clearer with the years, how your stomach swelled with each child you bore, how your chest puffed with pride whenever the kids did something, you were proud of. He was still in love with you, never falling into the pace of just loving, no, he – even after all these years – was still falling. Every time he thought he knew you as well as he knew his own face, you did something new; it was in the smallest of ways, but it was enough for him to see you in a new way yet again.
He never realized just how much the word love meant until he met you. The universes aligned, planets stopped and stars collided in your eyes, his heart fully and willingly in your hands, and he didn’t quite understand how anybody would ever think love was a word, that was enough for the all-encompassing feeling that settled in his very soul, every time he looked at you and the children. No, love seemed too small, too gentle for the way his body would move with yours in perfect synchronicity; nothing would ever be enough to accurately describe the way he felt for you.
The children were running around in the same yard, you’d been wed in, and you sat on his lap, a blanket covering the both of you, leaning against his chest, when he kissed your cheek and watched the kids run rampant with Kal.
Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but looking outward together in the same direction, he mused, remembering your recently favorite author – another favorite, that would change at the speed of the wind.
A/N: It’s the end of smutty/fluffy weekend, which I’m ending with some requests! This if from @one-sweet-gubler who’s literally the best for rrequesting and wanting my writing! Hope it pleases you!
Request: how about age gap relationship with Henry and he takes you to meet his family, and they don’t approve of you. Angsty and fluffy amd maybe allusions (I think that’s the word I’m thinking of) to you know😉
You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic – whatever you want, you get!
Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none!
Love y’all so much, thank you for being part of this crazy ride.
MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Henry Cavill x female reader
Warnings: language, age gap (reader is 21, Henry is 38), angst, fluff, implied smut
Wordcount: 2.453
The only exception
You smoothed down the fourth dress, you’d tried on and groaned loudly, ripping it off.
Henry came into your shared bedroom, his lips curled into a soft smile as he came over and rubbed your shoulders.
“Darling, you’ll look good no matter what you wear.” You huffed.
“That’s easy for you to say.” He hugged you tightly from behind, gently swaying- “You always look good, and it’s your family. You could show up in ratty sweatpants and they’d be fine.” He kissed your bare shoulder.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked. He knew you too well. You sighed and put your hands on top of his.
“I’m scared that the age-thing is going to be a big deal to them.”
“Why?” You were still swaying with him.
“Because it’s your family. I want them to like me and…” You drew a deep breath. “I don’t want them to think that I’m here for your money or fame.” You finally said in a small voice. He stopped swaying you and slowly turned you to face him, his thumb finding your chin to lift your head gently.
“Darling… Why does it matter so much to you? I promise you, I know that you’re not. Isn’t that all that matters?” He asked in a soothing voice.
“Yes and no. I just want you to… I don’t know, it’s your family and I know how much they mean to you, and I don’t want to be the one to come between that.”
“Darling, I chose you. The moment I met you. The very first glimpse I had of you, you were inherently imbedded in me. If they don’t find that agreeable or enough, then screw them.” You sighed. You knew there was no way you’d be able to convince him of how worried you were, because he was a romantic and an optimist; the world simply had to agree.
“Wear the green dress. You look stunning in that.” He said before kissing you deeply.
“Fine. Only because you asked so nicely.” You mumbled against his lips.
---------
The drive was agony for you. It’s strange how much people, you’d never even met, mattered – their opinion, their feelings… it meant the world to you to be accepted and the fear that they wouldn’t, made you want to vomit.
Henry squeezed your hand reassuringly and pulled into a driveway, stilling the engine.
“It’s going to be alright, love.”
“How are you not nervous about this?” You asked in a small, quivering voice.
“I think you’re nervous enough for the both of us, darling.” He chuckled. “I don’t know. I am a little nervous, but not because of your age. I worry that my mother has another scheme planned. He said, kissing your knuckles. “We’ll be fine.” He mumbled. You nodded and tried to draw a deep breath.
“If you want to stay in the car for a little bit, we can. Get your nerves under control.” You nodded once and held his hand, your heart pounding in your chest.
You knew that it shouldn’t matter much to you. You loved Henry for who he was, and it should be all that mattered. You lived together and you had been able to handle tabloids talking out of their ass about your relationship, but if his family didn’t approve, you feared that he’d break up; his family meant a lot to him, and you knew it.
You also knew that his mother had made a habit out of ambushing him with “plans” – sometimes an ex would randomly show up, sometimes a family friend, but they all had the same in common; they were in her eyes, a perfect match for Henry. He had groaned about it several times, when he came home from a visit with them, and you felt your stomach swoop every time he did – it was very clear, that you’d have to work very hard to get them to accept you.
“Let’s do it.” You finally said, trying to swallow your heart back in place. He smiled gently and you got out of the car, clammy hands in his, to knock on the door.
“Henry!” His mom hugged him tightly, before her eyes fell on you.
“Oh. Y/N, I presume?” Her cheery attitude had changed the minute she saw you.
“Yes, Mrs. Cavill. Happy to meet you.”
“Yes, well…” She smiled tightly. “Come on in, everybody’s here.” You followed Henry with a sinking feeling that this wasn’t going to go the way he had hoped for. Henry rubbed comforting circles on your back as you were introduced to his family and their partners – all of them gave you a strange look and barely muttered a hello. You saw Henry’s jaw clench.
“Henry, did I tell you that Martha is stopping by? Such a lovely girl, simply endearing.” You worried for Henry’s teeth – his jaw was clamped so tightly, his teeth must’ve been hurting under the pressure.
“Mum…”
“Oh, stop with the mum. You know, she’s single.” His mom started arranging tea on trays, lining it up to get ready for the afternoon-tea, you had been invited to. She didn’t set the full number of cups.
“We’ve been over this, mother. You’re being obtuse.” She huffed and turned to face Henry fully, hands on her hips.
“I am not being obtuse. She’s a very nice woman, and we would love her here.” The implication wasn’t lost on you, and you swallowed thickly, slipping out from under Henry’s protective arm.
“I need to use the restroom.” You muttered, not waiting for an answer, but simply weaved your way through the gathering of family, that didn’t like you in any way, their eyes following you with sneers on their faces, and found a guest bathroom, slamming the door and sitting heavily on the toilet, trying to keep your tears at bay.
You knew it. They wouldn’t accept you – you weren’t what they expected of their son, much less what they wanted in their family. Clearly, his mother was keener on Martha, who she had invited. Jesus Christ, you were going to lose it.
You heard voices outside and stilled your panicked breaths, keeping quiet.
“I told you, he’d bring someone like her.” It sounded like one of his brothers.
“Yes, yes, I know. I just… He’s only doing it to get a reaction from your mother and I. He’s acting like a teenager.” His dad.
“You know Henry, he wants to go against whatever you think.” Silence fell.
“She’s too young for him.”
“You’re telling me.”
“I knew it, I just knew he’d find someone like that. Young and money hungry. Fame-hungry, even.” A deep sigh. “He could at least pretend to be happy that we even allowed her inside the house. She wasn’t invited, and he knew it.”
“Dad…”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I refuse to let a child wander around with Henry like he’s her priced possession just because he’s trying to prove some silly point.”
“You would have made it easier if you hadn’t told him Martha was coming.” A huff. You cried silently; every single worry you had seemed to be warranted.
“It’s not fair to her. Henry used to date her, and they made a brilliant match.”
“Dad… Let him run it out. He’s blowing off steam, and it’ll end soon enough. You know him, a girl with nice tits shows up, he’s a goner.” They both laughed.
“At least he has some taste. She’s a pretty, little thing. Let’s hope she doesn’t rip him for all he’s worth.” They both laughed and they laughter became fainter and fainter as they walked away – you were about to have a full panic attack.
The way they talked about you made you feel sick. You had hoped that at least one of them would be just a little forthcoming, but they all seemed to think the same; you were a gold-digger with a nice body. It was disgusting. You gathered yourself and wiped the tears from your face – there wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d let them see how they’d made you feel. You just wanted to leave.
You unlocked the door and with a straight back, weaved back through the family, finding Henry deep in argument with his mother.
“I’m not here to find anyone, I already have someone, mum, I’m here because I wanted to introduce my girlfriend to my family!” He yelled. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, trying to play a game with me, when you knew she was coming with me.” His mother scoffed, pursing her lips.
“Not with my blessing, she didn’t.” Henry threw his hands up and glared at his mother.
“I don’t know why on earth you’re so hellbent on hating a woman, you’ve never met, that I love. It’s not a fling, it’s not a fickle thing, we live together, mum. I’m not letting her go, especially not because you want me to.” You stepped into the kitchen and let your hand wrap around his arm.
“I’m going to leave. You stay.” He turned his face to say something, but his mother cut in.
“That seems like a wonderful idea, dear.” You glared at her and any inkling of goodwill in you disappeared when you saw her sneering face.
“You know, I’m not doing it for you. I’m leaving because I don’t want Henry to be upset or have to chose between me and his family.” You said in a low voice, trying to keep your cool.
“I would have expected at least a modicum of respect, just an ounce, a sliver of respect and acceptance, not towards me, but to your son. You may very well be his mother, but you are abhorrent in your ways, and the fact that you act as if you’re better than me, makes me feel sorry for you.” Henry pulled you closer to his body.
“I know what you’re all thinking, I even heard it loud and clear.” You turned to face his father with a poisonous smile on your lips.
“While I am glad that you believe your son to have taste…” You spat out. “I am disgusted by the way you were talking about me, a stranger to you. If I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t believe a kind, gentle and caring man like Henry came from a family like this. I am absolutely disgusted by your way of thinking and your treatment of a person, who only wanted the very best for your son.” You drew a deep breath and narrowed your eyes.
“I am not here for his money, his looks or his fame. I’m here for Henry, the kind and loving man I know. Not that it’s any of your doing, it would seem.” You turned to face his mother again, who looked like she had swallowed a lemon.
“I thank you for not only completely ruining any chance we had to get along, but also for hurting your son. Me, I don’t care about, but him? God, he deserves better.” You bowed to her.
“Thank you for not inviting me and thank you for making it abundantly clear that you dislike whatever Henry wants to do. I have no desire to be involved with this family if this is how it is.” You stood on your toes and kissed Henry’s cheek.
“You can stay if you want. No pressure from me. I’ll haul a cab or an Uber. I love you.” You didn’t give him time to respond, nor did you react to his father’s voice calling out for you, but simply left the house, holding tears back until you were well down the road.
Fucking idiot, you were – thinking that the family, that had hounded Henry for as long as you knew him to find a “real” woman to suit him better, would ever accept you. It was stupid really, to get your hopes up, even just a sliver. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, and you wiped them angrily, pulling your phone out to find either a cab, an Uber or the nearest bridge to fling yourself off from.
The familiar hum of an engine sounded behind you, and a door opened – Henry’s warm, thick arms enveloped you, holding you tightly to his warm chest, as you sobbed into his shirt, staining it with mascara.
“Oh, sweetheart…” He rested his chin on top of your head.
“You didn’t have to leave, Henry. It’s your family, just go back.” You mumbled into his shirt. If he heard you, he didn’t let on. He just kept hugging you.
“You know, you’re the first person to ever say anything to them.” He mumbled into your hair.
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t…”
“Don’t be sorry, love.” He pulled you a little out from his body to look at you. “I should’ve known better. I thought that… When they saw you, got you know you, they’d be okay. Clearly, I was wrong.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Neither is it yours.” He said and kissed your forehead. “Let’s go home.”
“Are you sure? You can stay, I really don’t mind.” You told him in a small voice.
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” He said with determination. As you got in the car, he shot you a small, comforting smile.
The drive back was in silence, simply letting both of you process what happened at the house.
“You know, I talked to them as well. Or, rather, yelled at them.” He mumbled, turning the car down the familiar road, where your shared house appeared slowly to your eyes.
“Henry…”
“No, they don’t get to do that. I’d much rather choose you and be happy than stay in my family’s house and be utterly unhappy.” He said with a small smile. The car stopped moving and you glanced to your front door, the soft sway of lavender and roses around the walkway calming you.
“I never wanted you to choose, you know.” He kissed you deeply.
“It’s never been a choice.” As you stepped inside the house and toed your shoes off – not before Kal had practically tackled you – Henry held you tightly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Hmm, you know…” He kissed you. “There’s something very attractive about you when you become all assertive.” He kissed you again, deepening the kiss – there was something both desperate and dominant, that lingered just under the surface of the kiss. You felt warm.
“Oh, yeah?” you mumbled against his lips, his fingers running up under the hem of your dress.
“Definitely…” When your back hit the bed, his deep voice whispering the things he’d do to you, you weren’t worried anymore.
The worry could be handled later.
A/N: Babes, my loves, my darlings, my birds – I’m so happy that you guys like this amazing piece, commissioned by @snackycake1975. It’s becoming one of my favorites to write, and I’m just so glad you guys like the raw fluff in this!
If you also want a piece completely personalized for you with your storyline, name or whatever you might want, you can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic just for you!
Love y’all so much, thank you for going on this crazy ride with me.
Remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.
MASTERLIST
SERIES MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus sized!Reader (Rachel)
Warnings: fluff, all the fluff, a little language, mutual pining, Henry being a romantic, lil’ flirt, a little angst (but like barely)
Wordcount: 3.303
Romance
“Hen! Where’s the…” You stopped yelling and looking for the very specific coffee-cup, you always used when you were visiting, because it was dangling in front of your face from a thick finger. The owner of the finger grinned at you and winked.
“Thank you, I’m desperate.” You mumbled, grabbing the cup from his finger and trotted to the coffee-maker for the nectar of the gods.
It had been hours since your swim, and you were still feeling tense. The proverbial line of do and don’t had somehow been crossed, and now it was blurred in sand; you felt like you were walking on a tightrope, and either side of you was a deep abyss filled with the unknown.
It wasn’t because you didn’t want him – you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted in your entire life – but you were terrified that he didn’t. the show in the pool had brought you to your knees, because a small part of you wanted to believe that he might actually feel the same, but another, larger part of you reminded you of his previous relationships and how they looked. You were not comparable to them; perfect bodies that were round in the perfect places, not at all like you were.
Maybe the thing in the pool was just a reaction to having to be pent up in the same place for God knows how long.
“So, I was thinking something.” Henry’s voice cut through your brain’s rambling thoughts and you turned to him, sipping your coffee. He was leaning over the counter, his button up uncuffed and rolled up, which made you want to whine – the sight of his forearms did something unspeakable to you. You cleared your throat.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked, trying to steady your voice and not look too closely to that damn vein that was currently popping out along his wrist.
“We’re stuck here for the foreseeable future, right?”
“Right.” You answered a little hesitantly. He smiled his crooked smile, the corner of his lip curling and his fangs caught on his lower lip – you sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.
“And we wanted to do some things, right?”
“Right…” Now you were getting nervous.”
“Do you trust me?” You nodded. Never in your life had you distrusted him. He beamed at you.
“Okay. Can you meet me in the dining room in…” He looked at his watch. “Two hours? Wear whatever you want.” You smiled, while looking at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
“The last time you said that I ended up at a VIP-party in jeans.” He chuckled a little and walked to you, his hand cupping your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, just a little, and look up at him.
“Alright, then wear that dress I bought you last time you came.” You sucked your teeth. Damn him.
“Okay.” The dress was beautiful, and the idiot had surprised you with it after you saw it and moaned at the price.
“I will say, you looked amazing in those jeans.”
You chuckled as he ran up the stairs in long strides, doing whatever he was planning behind closed doors.
This was either going to be disastrous or wonderful.
-------------
An hour and a half later, you were staring at the soft, rose-colored dress that lay, very unassuming, on your bed. You scowled at it, as if it had done you a great dishonor – which is hadn’t. It just existed in the same way as you did; but you couldn’t exactly stare at yourself like this, so the dress became the receiver.
It was dumb. Silly. Stupid, even, to be this anxious about anything with Henry. The man had driven you to the ER after a particular bad date, where a certain something got stuck in you – there really was no going back to just careful friends after that. Still, you kind of wanted to retreat into yourself, simply disappear, because it felt so much like the pre-date-jitters you wanted to die.
You sighed and grabbed the dress, quickly putting it on, and glanced at yourself in the mirror – you didn’t look like you, not really. Eyes glazed, cheeks red and chest heaving a little. The dress fit perfectly, even though you scowled at your stomach. Why were you nervous?
You briefly wondered if he felt the same nerves as you but shook that idea right out of your head – no matter what happened in the pool earlier, it shouldn’t have such an effect on you. He didn’t mean much by it – you knew he had been touched-starved for a while, because you had talked about it over facetime before you came over, so it was probably just that. Right?
You shook yourself back to a semi-normal state of mind, plastered a smile on your face and went downstairs, where Henry waited with a bright smile and looked absolutely illegal with his navy-blue Henley and dress-pants. Unbelievable that he could look like he just stepped out of a magazine, and you just felt frumpy.
“Wow.” He breathed out, his eyes roaming your body, mouth slightly open. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks under the scrutiny of his eyes, and you squirmed a little – the way he looked at you reminded you of that one time, you had given him a rare set of Warhammer figurines.
“You look absolutely stunning, love.” He whispered, grabbing your hands and led you to the table, where he handed you a bouquet of handpicked flowers. You grinned.
“Lavender and daisies?” You asked, holding them tightly with a smile on your lips, that made your cheeks hurt. He grinned, a little shyly, and winked at you.
“It’s all I had in the garden.” He said and kissed your hand gently. “Come, I have a vase for them.” He took the flowers and carefully put them in a small vase (another gift from you) before grabbing your wrist, sending a current of electricity through your body, dragging you to his home cinema.
“What are we doing here?” You asked, a giggle in your throat, as he sat you down in one of the soft chairs and placed himself next to you.
“Well, we couldn’t go to the museum, so I brought the museum to us.” He said with a smile and turned the screen on. You gasped, your eyes following the video of the entrance to the museum and turned to face Henry, who only had eyes for you.
“How did you do this? I didn’t know they did virtual tours!” You exclaimed happily.
“They don’t. I just happen to know someone who works there, and they agreed to film a tour for us.”
“Oh, Henry, that’s… Thank you.” You said sincerely, grabbing his hand and squeezed it lightly. He weaved his fingers in between yours. His hand was shaking a little. He smiled at you and you felt your heart speed up and stutter at the small, sincere smile he gave you; you returned it, and his thumb began rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. You couldn’t breathe right anymore – what was breathing even, at this point? – and you forced yourself to look away from his eyes. You both turned to the screen, watching the tour with unseeing eyes as tension grew from where your hands met.
When the tour mercifully ended, you exhaled a shaky breath and tried to level your voice.
“What now?” You asked, feeling flushed and very hot. He grinned and pulled you to your feet, and you stumbled a little, tumbling into his chest. Your eyes met as he steadied you with a hand on the small of your back, both of you breathless. You could just inch up on your toes and your lips would meet. It would require nothing of you, but you stopped yourself from doing anything, simply breathing out a thank you. He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat.
“No problem.” He didn’t let go. His hand was burning into you, his eyes still on yours, and it was the smallest of movements, but it was there.
He pulled you just a little bit closer and lowered his face just a little bit more, the small space between your lips seemingly so incredibly close but yet oceans apart. His breath was hot on your face, and it stuttered a little bit, his fingers digging into your soft skin on your back, his eyes trained on yours. You were burning, literally burning for him, as the tip of his tongue darted out and wet his lower lip.
An alarm went off, and you separated quickly, you straightening out your dress and tried desperately to steady your feet, breathing and brain, while Henry turned off the alarm from his phone and ran a hand over his face.
“Er… Dinner’s ready.” He said with a cracked voice, and you nodded.
“Cool, yeah. Uh, good.” You felt awkward now, your palms sweating. He walked in front of you, his shoulders tense, until you reached the dining room, where he pulled a chair out for you and grinned at you with that trademark smile. You sat down happily.
“Wait for one moment.” You didn’t get a chance to respond before he had left the room, and you had a moment to yourself to just gather yourself.
What the hell had just happened? You swore he had leaned in and held you tighter, but now you were questioning yourself – what if he hadn’t, and you were being an absolute asshole thinking he was? Maybe your mind was finally cracked, fully gone off the rails, because there was no way. No way, he’d want you in the same way as you wanted him.
There hadn’t been any inklings to it, either, not since that one night on the roof in your teens – you were too different in life, you supposed, and even if you could somehow leave your own worries at the door, it never could happen, anyway. The stars didn’t align for the two of you, despite how much time you’d spent together; it wasn’t meant to be, just because it wasn’t. Fate has and will always be, cruel.
“Alright, dinner…” Henry stepped out with a tray in his hand. “Is served.” He set it down in front of you and placed himself in front of you.
“Oh my god, it looks amazing.” It did – he had made one of his own favorites, a thai-salad with beef and peanuts, which made your mouth water from just looking at it; he grinned at you and raised an eyebrow, before you both got to it.
“Do you remember your 21st birthday?” he asked out of nowhere, sipping his wine and ran a hand through his hair in the most sensual way, you had ever seen. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was him, but you were almost quivering in your seat and rubbed your thighs together. Goddamnit.
“Uh, yeah. We had too much tequila and Marcy Jacobs threw up on the bouncer.” You said with a smile.
“Exactly.” He leaned forwards, his elbows resting on the table. “And you got a concussion from knocking your head into the bar after your… 7th tequila-shot?” You groaned.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I felt horrible for weeks.” He chuckled a little and bit his lip.
“Do you remember anything before that?”
“You mean other than Marcy Jacobs throwing up on the bouncer and Tom twerking? Not really.” He nodded and drew a deep breath, clearly withholding something from you – he grabbed the bottle of wine.
“More wine?”
“Hey, wow, stop that. You’re deflecting.” You accused; eyes narrowed at him. “Is there something I should remember?”
“Erh… No.” He stuttered.
“Liar. I’ve known you for far too long for you to think you can lie to me.” He chuckled and sighed a little.
“It’s nothing, just something I remembered a few days ago. I mean, if you don’t remember, we don’t have to…” You cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Henry.”
“Rachel.” He mimicked.
“Don’t try me, I know your weak spots. You cannot get out of this, seriously.”
“I can damn well try.” You rolled your eyes.
“Come on, just tell me. I promise, I won’t be mad… Unless it’s very embarrassing, then I’ll have your head.” You said with a grin.
“Fine, but you asked for it.” He took a deep swig of his wine before finding your eyes.
“Do you at all remember the reason, you fell in the first place?” He asked.
“I think we’ve established that I remember nothing but Marcy throwing up and Tom twerking.” You repeated deadpanned, your heart speeding up; there was something lingering in the back of your mind, just like a sneeze, that teased your nose; almost there but not quite.
“Well… Er, I was kind of the reason.”
“How?” A fuzzy image full of red, purple and blue lights began slowly coming to life in your mind’s eye.
“Er, well, I, er…” You narrowed your eyes at him, the mental image becoming clearer by the second – his face swimming in and out of focus along with flashing lights.
“Henry…” You hesitated. The memory of his lips nearing you must be fake, brought on by the almost not-really-maybe kiss earlier.
“I may or may not have kissed you and you slipped. Hence the concussion.” You fell back against your chair. You had kissed? And you didn’t remember?
“Oh, shit.” You murmured. “Why… You… Have… Uh…”
“I don’t know why I remembered it after so long. I mean, it’s always been in the back of my mind, but it didn’t really come… Well, I just remembered.”
“Why?” you asked, suddenly feeling very hot and very flustered. “Why did you kiss me? Because I was there? I know that Annabelle turned you down, so was I just…?” He frowned.
“What? No, no, not at all!” He leaped to his feet and sat down next to you, his eyes wide and earnest. “You… Were there. Yes, but you always were. Always is. I mean, I’m not making it sound any better, but… Yeah, you were there. And I was. Because I wanted to be. I did it because I wanted to and you had looked at me with these eyes and I just lost control, I guess.” He bit his lip. “Truth be told, Annabelle didn’t turn me down, I turned her down.” He whispered.
“What?” Your voice came out small and squeaky.
“Uh, yeah. Well, first and foremost, she only became interested because I began to be in movies. Secondly, she was cruel to you and there was no way I was going to stand for that.” You swallowed thickly, one part of the back of your throat still completely dry.
“Henry, I…”
“No, it’s fine.” He shot you a small smile and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Pay it no mind, really. You fell and hit your head, which was a lot more important than me kissing you. Besides, it’s years ago, there’s no reason we should even talk about it.”
You frowned.
“What if I wanted to talk about it?” He frowned right back, the cute little wrinkle that formed right on the top of his brow appearing.
“Why would you? It’s years ago.” You shrugged.
“Well, I’m curios if that’s the only time you’ve kissed drunk me.” You said with a smile to hide your nerves. He chuckled and you realized that he was so close, you could count the hair on his chest, that stuck out over the top of his shirt.
“I haven’t. I’ve wanted to.” You almost choked on your own spit.
“I’m sorry?” You squeaked. He did that thing with his tongue again and you wanted to melt.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you. Several times in fact. I mean, several times over the years, but also several times over the last two days. Several times during the last hour, even.” You didn’t know what to say and he sighed before he began rambling.
“You know, we’ve been dancing around this for a long time, haven’t we?” He asked. “This thing between us, that… Has just been there forever, but we’ve never spoken about?” Your eyes were trained on his.
“I do believe I’m tired of hiding it away. Not that I was doing a great job at it before, but at least you never saw through my pitiful excuses and lies.” He chuckled. “I’ve wanted to have my lips on yours since the moment you stepped inside this house. Just as I have every time, we’ve been near each other. I’m always gravitating towards you, always finding you. You’re like… A lighthouse in a storm, really. You’re always there to guide me safely to shore, shining a bright light over an endless, roaring sea.” He drew a breath, and your heart skipped a beat.
“I’ve been yours for as long as I knew what that meant, and probably even before that, darling. There’s a reason my relationships never lasted, because they were tired of competing with a person, who cannot compete themselves. Or, rather, had already won the competition.” He glanced at you.
“I know it probably doesn’t make sense and I know that you probably aren’t feeling what I am, but I cannot keep it back anymore. There’s no reason, logically, why I should. I love you and that’s that, simple and clear. My love for you is as vast as the universe and as bright as a star.” He finally finished, and you were reeling, trying to grasp – truly understand – what he had just said.
“But… I’m… Not your type, Henry.” You whispered.
“Darling…”
“No! I mean, I’m not. I’m just me and I’m pudgy and lumpy and not fit for cameras, I am literally anything but… I am not someone one would expect you to show up with, and you deserve more than that.” You said, pushing your chair back and standing. “I am nothing but merely… This.” You gestured to your body.
“And it pains me every day that I’m not what you deserve or want, because I want you, I would… I can’t…” Words failed you. “You can’t say these things, because it’s all based in the fact that we’re locked up here, and you’re already going stir-crazy because you’re used to people around, it has nothing to do with a kiss, that came about years ago.” You huffed, crossing your arms.
“Darling, did you hear a word I said?” He stood as well.
“Yes, and it was very… Picturesque.” You mumbled.
“It was true. Not because we’re stuck in here, not because you’re next to me and there’s no one else around, but because you’re you and I have wanted you since you gave me a crooked smile and handed me the last gummy bear from the bag, you’d snuck inside the school.” He said, stepping closer to you. You took a step back, trying desperately to keep your distance.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” You both moved again and your back hit the wall.
“Don’t say those things and then come close to me.”
“Why?” He asked earnestly, stepping closer again. His chest was against yours.
“Because I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“You could tell me if I was alone with those feelings, love.” He said slowly, his hand cupping your face. You looked at him with wild, open eyes.
“What would happen if I said you weren’t alone?” He smiled a dazzling smile.
“Then…” He stood flush against your body, his other hand cupping the other side of your face and his hot breath fanned over you; he smelled like summer rain and vanilla.
“I want to ruin our friendship.”
And then his lips touched yours.
----------------
I’M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER DON’T HATE ME I LOVE YOU BUT IF YOU HATE ME OR LOVE ME LET ME KNOW
A/N: This is a requested and paid personalized story – the lovely @snackycake1975 bought me a coffee and told me the kind of story, she’d like to have written, and this is the result!
I’m so glad many of you are enjoying it as well, because it’s a joy to write full fluff and just love it as I do!
If you want a personalized story (both with names, looks, plot and everything else) you can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a drabble, one-shot or a multi-chapter fic!
I love y’all so much.
Remember, feedback feeds the soul and requests (and askbox) is always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.
MASTERLIST
SERIES MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus-sized!female reader (Rachel)
Warnings: language, pure fluff
Wordcount: 2.571
Merry-go-round of life
You stretched languidly and kept your eyes closed against the soft warmth of the morning sun. You felt overwhelmingly content, surprisingly warm and heavy.
Too heavy, in fact. You slowly opened your eyes and instantly saw a thick arm draped over your waist; hand turned to your chest. Henry.
In the same second you noticed his arm around you, you also noticed the feeling of his chest rising and falling behind you, and his breath fanning out on your neck.
“Don´t overthink it.” His sleepy voice penetrated the stillness of the morning, and his hand gripped your shirt tightly, holding you close to him. “I like to cuddle.” He mumbled and moved ever so closely to you.
“Uh, Henry…” You muttered and felt the flush of your cheeks – you might love him, but you’d rather him not find out the fact of the matter. In truth, you would happily spend your days right here, in his arms and his bed – simply forgetting the world around you.
“Indulge me, please.” His lips touched your neck – if it was intentional or not, you didn’t dare to think about, and your heart picked up with the light scratch of his stubble.
“I just…” You trailed off as his thumb began rubbing slow circles on your clothed waist. It felt as though the air got sucked out from your chest at the feeling.
He had touched you before – it was a part of your friendship; you were both physical and touchy – but this felt entirely too intimate for you; you couldn’t think straight.
“Darling, I… Just allow me to settle here for a moment. Just five minutes of this.” He mumbled.
“I’ll allow it.” You whispered back slowly, but surely, letting your own hand rest on the one, that lay heavily on your waist. He sighed happily.
“Thank you.”
Silence fell for a few heartbeats before he spoke again. “What would you want to do today?” He asked you, his chin on your shoulder. You smiled.
“Literally nothing. I’’ haven’t had a vacation in forever, so I’d like to just relax for a while.”
“Maybe go swimming?” He asked and you felt the overwhelming amount of color in your face disappear at once.
“Uh…” It wouldn’t be the first time you’d been swimming with him, but this felt different. You weren’t truly ashamed of your body – or even uncomfortable in it – but it was very… Weird. The feeling in your gut of letting him see you in just swimwear made you want to throw up; not that he would look at you differently, hopefully, but the idea of him seeing you in so little made you want to die.
“I promise, the water is warm and really nice. The sun is supposed to be out all day, and it’s kind of limited what else we can do today. Or tomorrow.” You laughed a little at that.
“True. But… I didn’t bring any swimwear.” You tried to sway him from this idea. It would probably be better if you just played chess or something.
“Ha, like that’s ever stopped you. Do you not remember that time you literally just dove into the sea wearing your gala dress?” You chuckled. That had been fun – you were 17 years old and drunk as all hell, the night was warm and full of youthful promise.
“I do remember you jumping first, Henry. Naked.” He laughed.
“Ha, yes, I did. That is the reason I’ve sworn off vodka completely.” He said with a slight chuckle, his fingers still warm and tight around your waist. The tip of his fingers rested just under your breasts, and it made you feel lightheaded.
“At any rate, I have nothing to swim in, seeing as I neither have a gala dress or swimwear.”
“Just wear your underwear, then.”
“Uh… No.”
“Why?” He let go of your waist and you turned to face him.
“Because! It’s my underwear.” He laughed a little and cocked an eyebrow.
“So? It’s exactly the same as swimwear, you tosser.”
“No, it is not! It’s… Underwear.” You finished lamely.
“Pfht, I think it’ll do just fine. Come on, for me? I promise to cook for you tonight, then.” That was an alluring prospect – if anything, Henry was the best cook you’d ever known, and you did miss his cooking.
“Well… That depends on what you cook.” You said with a grin. His face lit up and his hand found your cheek, fondly placing it there.
“Whatever you’d like.”
You both got up, drinking your coffee, sitting on the terrace and enjoyed the warm winds.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked, placing his cup on the table. He wasn’t looking at you, but staring into the distance, still painted a rosy, gold hue.
“Sure.” You answered happily. He turned to you with a smile and drew a deep breath.
“Have you ever wondered why we haven’t… Er, dated?” You felt a blush instantly settle on your cheeks and you cast your eyes to your feet, where Kal laid still, napping and snoring.
“Uh…”
“I just mean… We’ve known each other for as long as I can remember, really. You’ve known me through the awkward phases of life. We even came close once, remember?”
You did remember that night. On the roof of your house, both of you laying down, staring up at the night sky, your cheeks stained with mascara and tears after Colin Markis had laughed at you and called you a fat bitch, after he had pretended to wanted to go to a dance with you.
Henry had held you when you cried and then both of you had gotten very drunk, laying on the roof.
His hand had found yours slowly, weaving fingers with yours and he had turned to you, your noses bumping. It was quiet and slow, and right before you touched lips, you had turned your head with the simple statement that you were drunk and your friendship was too dear to you for it to be ruined by a kiss.
“Well… I’ll stand by what I said then. Our friendship means too much for me.” You sighed. “Besides, I don’t think I’m the type for you, really.”
“And you’re the judge of my taste and type?” He asked with raised eyebrows.
“With your dating history, I should be.”
“Funny. You’re being a brat and evasive, you know?”
“It is what i do best, Hen. Besides, we’re not here for deep conversations about love, but to have fun. Who knows how long I’ll be here for, anyway, we should just enjoy it.”
He smiled at you and nodded. “Yeah, we should. See you at the pool in ten?” You nodded and began moving towards the bathroom to change, your cheeks warm and heart heavy. One day, you’d tell him.
That day was not today.
-------------
You frowned as you looked down at yourself. It felt a little too simple and yet incredibly daunting, to step outside of the bathroom and to the waiting pool. It was strange, how much you were aware of your own looks. It was Henry for goodness sake, and he had seen you with backne. It wasn’t that difficult to let him see you without it – and with a more confident body. Your fingers followed the ridges and lines on your body – you felt… Less because of them. The stupid lines that came when you grew too fast for your body to keep up. Another thing entirely was your constant battle with your brain and your heart - the two polars that disagreed completely on what you should do - one wanted you to jump his bones, damned it all to hell, while the other (more sensible part, you ventured) was telling you to just forget it.
“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself and grabbed the towel before heading out into the blinding sun.
You stopped dead in your tracks as you saw him get out of the water, almost like it was in slow motion, water droplets rushing off his body, trailing and outlining every, single muscle in his body. It was like a fucking ad for cologne, looking at him shake his hair and smile at you.
“You’re kidding me, you look like you’re photoshopped!” You exclaimed in annoyance. “What is that?” You gestured to him.
“You just gestured to all of me.” He said with a grin.
“I know what I did.” You murmured. Damn him.
“Come on, get in.” He stepped closer to you with a glint in his eyes.
“Uh…” You stepped back as his hands reached out for you. “I think I’ll stay on the sunbed for a while first.”
“Under no circumstance.” Faster than you could have seen coming, his hands were on your waist and pushed you towards the edge of the pool. You barely had time to think before you felt yourself tip backwards, and your hands reached for the only thing, you could find to steady yourself – his neck.
You tumbled into the water with him with a slight squeal and emerged from the water with a gasp. Henry chuckled, his arms still around you.
“You’re an ass.”
“You love me.” You were panting, your nipples pebbling in the cold water, goosebumps rising on your skin. You were caught in his eyes and barely noticed yourself move closer still to him; you were skin to skin with him, feeling like you were burning with ice. Strange feeling.
Your breath was stolen from you, and his grip tightened on you. You didn’t really think too much off it, letting your legs wrap around his waist gently. He cocked an eyebrow and held you tightly to him. Goosebumps were ever-present on your skin, pebbling under his fingers.
“Call me a cute pond, because I have goosies.” You wanted to die. There was no way you had just said that out loud.
He roared with laughter and turned you both, pushing your back against the side of the pool.
“That… Was… Something.” He said between bouts of laughter. You rolled your eyes and felt your cheeks heat up – it wasn’t just because of the weird exclamation you had just made, but also from the proximity of him.
His hands were warm on your lower back, and you found his eyes again.
“So…” you began, trying to start a conversation, which seemed completely impossible at this moment, with his eyes boring into yours. You felt wanting.
“Can I just enjoy this moment for a second longer?” He asked, a sliver of something unknown in his voice. You gawked at him – he seemed just as wanting as you. “Just… Enjoy this feeling. The way you…” He sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. “Just one moment.” You didn’t know what to say or do, his hands were gripping you tightly, fingers bruising against your skin. You gasped as he moved closer, his fingers moving lower on your back, resting against your dimples in your lower back. You allowed your hands to trail his neck, letting them fumble against the short hair on the nape of his neck. You wanted to pull him closer, feel his breath on your face, but a sense of sensibility held you back. You were friends. You weren’t suitable for his life, this place – you were just normal.
“Henry…” You almost breathed his name. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms steady and hard against yours.
“Stop. Don’t think, don’t. Just let me… Enjoy it.” He mumbled, fingers gripping you ever tighter. You were a mess. There was a clear line before you showed up to his house, a clear understanding that this was not going to happen. This thing, that had been lingering in the shadows for as long as you had been friends, the unspoken, unsaid want and gaze that often passed between the two of you, were just that – unspoken and full of shadows.
Now, the line had been washed out completely and you were falling straight into the abyss with him, trying to grasp feeble whispers of steadiness. His eyes were an ocean in uproar, as they searched yours for any inclining of doubt.
It was completely impossible for you to refuse him – even if you wanted to, you didn’t think you’d have the wherewithal to do it.
“Henry, this is…” You whispered to him, afraid to break the silence between you – but you had to, simply had to say something before anything happened that would ruin your friendship. The lined was merely a dot in the horizon as you felt his muscle rolling against your cold skin.
A/N: This is a commissioned project from the always amazing @snackycake1975, who donated to my Ko-Fi and told me what she wanted to have written for her; and I’m more than happy to do so!
So welcome to the first chapter of a commissioned series, To have and to hold!
If you want a series, miniseries or one-shot personalized for you (all depends on what you donate), you can donate to my Ko-Fi here with your blog-name attached, and then I’ll write you privately to hear what you want written! It would help so much with my medical and other bills.
MASTERLIST
TO HAVE AND TO HOLD MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus!Sized female reader (Rachel)
Warnings: Language, fluff, mention of lock-downs, mention of the Panorama
Wordcount: 1.936
Chapter 1: A certainty
You ran your hands down your coat before you knocked on the door to his home. You were itching to see him; it had been too long since the last time, and it felt weird being separated for so long.
It was the plight of the life of a best friend to Henry Cavill; he was running around the world, shooting movies and shows, happily giving interviews. You missed him.
You were visiting for the fourth time this year – he missed you just as much as you missed him.
You looked up at the same time as the door opened, where a beaming smile met you. He hugged you tightly, his large hands resting on your lower back.
“Nice to see you to, Hen.” You grinned against his shoulder. He let you go and looked at you. He looked great, happy and muscular – more than the last time you saw him. Slightly tanned, too.
“You too, Rachel.” He led you inside, where you shrugged off your coat and hung it up and followed him into his large living room, where Kal bounced over to you with a wagging tail. You bent down and nuzzled him – you had missed the giant dog as much as you had missed Henry.
“Thank you for letting me crash here again.” You said, looking up at him with a smile as Kal licked a wet stripe up your cheek.
He chuckled a little.
“Like it would ever be a problem for me.” He said with a shrug and a smile. “Wine?” He asked, walking to the kitchen.
“You know me too well.” You said and followed him to the kitchen.
“God, I’ve missed you, darling.” He said as he handed you your wine. You felt the fluttering of butterfly-wings in your stomach at his words.
“You better have.” You grinned and tried to ignore the stupid butterflies, that had been a steady part of your life since you met him almost thirty years ago.
It was strange, how much you two had held on to each other. You met each other when you were barely ten years old, and you had been in love with him for 9 years, 23 hours and maybe 25 minutes.
He had stood up for you many times, you had invited him to family dinners. You exchanged gifts for holidays and birthdays, even valentine’s day. That hadn’t stopped as you grew older; even as he was halfway across the world, you’d get a stupid teddy bear for valentine’s day – the last two times, it had been bears made of roses – and Christmas always came with thoughtful gifts from him.
There hadn’t been a day since meeting, where you hadn’t talked.
Maybe that’s how you fell in love with him. Not that he would ever be privy to that particular piece of information, because it would wreck your relationship with each other completely, and besides, you weren’t exactly his type. You had seen the women he had kept to, and it wasn’t exactly plump and rounded women; no matter what, you treasured your friendship way too much to ever tell him.
He was your heart and soul, if you were honest. He could tell how your day was by whatever emoji you used, and you knew when he was cold by the words he used. It was almost symbiotic, the way you both acted around each other. Your families had joked about you two ending up married from the day you turned 14, and that was still going strong – although your mother never really came about it in the best of ways, simply stating that he’d probably be the only one to chose from, since he knew your personality and had known you before you were “fat”.
“You there, love?” You got pulled from your thoughts by his voice. He looked at you expectantly.
“I’m sorry, I was worlds away.” You grinned at him. “What’s up?”
“I asked how the flight was? Weird?” You nodded.
“Yeah, so many measures for the pandemic, I guess. Lots of testing, my hands are completely dry with the disinfectant and the face mask was uncomfortable, but at least I got here. Last I heard, plenty of areas are shutting down completely for travels.” He nodded.
“Yeah, we’ve been affected too. Filming is constantly stopping and going, the face masks ruin the makeup and it’s a whole thing.”
“Yeah…” You trailed off. It was weird and kind of terrifying to live in the middle of a global pandemic.
“So, something happier; what do you want to do this time? We still have that museum, we didn’t get to see last time.”
“Sure! I mean, I’m only here for a week, so I’d love to just… Chill out with you.” You said with a smile.
His eyes focused on the tv in the living room and pointed to the newscaster, who looked serious and he turned the sound up.
“…. Experiencing lock downs throughout the country. Flights in and out have been cancelled and the government urges people to stay inside and keep to only your household.” He turned slowly to you.
“It looks like we don’t have a choice, love.” He said slowly. “Maybe call your mom and work? I can see if we can book you a hotel…” You shook your head.
“I’m fine here, Henry. I’ve slept here plenty of times.” You pulled your phone out. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with it?” He looked like you had insulted him.
“Uncomfortable… With you… Staying here?” He asked. “I would never. Spending time with you is honestly the best thing in my life. If I get you for more than a week, I’m taking it.” You grinned at him.
“Fine, then I guess I’ll stay.” He grinned happily at you. “Although it’s based on a shitty thing, I can’t say I’m mad about it.” You quickly dialed your boss’ number and gestured to your phone.
“I’m just going to let my boss know the situation and hopefully, we can work something out. I don’t know when the travel ban gets lifted, so…” He nodded.
“Sure. I’ll walk Kal in the meantime.” Kal’s ears perked up at the same time as walk was said and Henry rolled his eyes.
“Come on, you impatient thing.”
When the door closed behind him, you called your boss.
“Yes?”
“Hi, Peter.” You sighed deeply. “Listen, I’m abroad, visiting a friend. We just heard the travel ban and lock downs are in place here, so I have no idea when I’ll be back to the city.” Silence on the other end, as Peter thought it over.
“Alright, well… Lucky your job can be handled remotely. If I get the address, I can send you new pages and scripts, and you can handle the meetings online, maybe? How’s the time difference?” You glanced at the clock on the wall and counted back. “Er, just about 5 hours. It’s manageable.” You said.
“Alright. We’ll figure it out, we really don’t have a choice about it.” You nodded.
“Yeah. I’ll write you an email with the important information, and we’ll go from there.”
“Perfect. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Yup. Bye, Peter.” He hung up without a goodbye and you quickly called your mom.
“What?” You closed your eyes at her tone.
“I’m stuck at Henry’s. The travel ban and lock down is in full effect right now, so I don’t know when I’ll be back.” She sighed.
“Typical. So you don’t know if you’ll be back for your father’s birthday?”
“No. I’m sorry, it’s really completely out of my control.”
“Well…” She sighed again. “Give my love to Henry, will you?”
“Sure. I really am…” She hung up before you had a chance to finish talking. “Sorry.” You said to the now silent phone, before dropping it back into your pocket.
You had always had a sort of volatile relationship with your mother. She didn’t like the fact that you had gained weight, and she didn’t approve of your choice of work; she didn’t think it fitting for you to work in publishing. She was hotheaded and stubborn as a mule, which didn’t fit with your cool and relaxed nature.
She thought you as a fickle heart, you thought of her as of stone. Oil and water.
The door opened and Henry stepped inside, removing his face mask before letting the leash off of Kal, who bounced to you and huffed a warm breath on your leg, as you squatted down to bury your fingers in his thick fur. It felt like home.
“I have a little confession to make.” He said with a sly grin.
“Oh?” You looked up at him, and he looked a little shameful.
“I’m doing renovations at the moment, which, given the current state of the world, probably won’t be done for a while.”
“Okay…?”
“Er, the renovations were in the guest bedroom and bathroom.”
“Oh.” He smiled a little and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s fine, Henry, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He shook his head.
“Come on, you can’t. Kal will be over you all through the night, you won’t get sleep at all.” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“So I’m suggesting we just… Sleep in the same bed? If you want? At least you’ll get sleep and it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
That was true. But on the other hand, that was when you were fifteen and young, not now, while your feelings for him still were running rampant through your body and there was no set time of it ending.
“Uhm…” You hesitated.
“I know it’s not ideal, but I just want to make sure you actually get sleep, especially if you have to work as well. I know it can be taxing and there’s the time difference as well, so…” You drew a deep breath.
“I mean… I…” You didn’t know what to say.
“If you’d rather sleep on the couch or the loveseat in the office, you’re free to do so. But before that, I’d like for you to just try and lay down in the bed and tell me you’d rather sleep on a couch.” He said with a grin.
“Fine, I’ll bite.” You were 90 % sure you were going to choose the couch at any rate, but you wanted to seem like it was actually a choice.
“Perfect. Come with me.”
You followed him to his bedroom, and you smiled as you stepped inside; it was so much like him, clearly the room he felt the most comfortable in. Pictures scattered the walls and several swords hung on the wall opposite the bed. Everything was kept in warm, muted and dark colors, that made you feel absolutely at home and his bed… Damn.
“Okay, just try to lay down. Please.” He asked with a smile. You did and almost moaned out loud. This was a bed made for and by gods. You felt like you were laying on a cloud.
You looked to the table next to the bed and saw a picture of you and him, hugging tightly – it was taken the day, he’d been told he had gotten the role of Geralt.
“Okay, this is amazing.” You resolve to sleep on the couch dwindled pretty fast as you got comfortable in the bed. He laid down next to you, and you realized the bed was bigger than expected; you could both fit comfortably on it without issues.
“So…?”
“Fine.” You said with a smile. “But if you snore, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Deal.”
Next chapter
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