Enchanting

“Clark? Honey?” You call out to your husband who, seemed lost to the rest of the world as his eyes sought the words to whatever paperwork he was reading. Noting down the uncanny disarray of his home office, the strange feeling of unrest settled in the pit of your stomach once more.

There were piles of papers scattered aimlessly on his mahoganny desk, his recieving chairs were skewed at an angle you knew he'd find unsettling, and his coat aswell as a few trinkets were laying waste on the carpet altogether. 

It was unlike Clark to let himself spiral into a such a state of disorder. If you knew anything, about your endearing husband; he had a severe case of OCD. Everything must have their own place, every nook and cranny accounted for and it reflected on his everyday life. His tailor made suits were always neatly pressed, his tie the perfect knot, his appearance was always put together and smart in fashion. There was nothing that could be flawed about Clark Kent; he was composed, as he was equally accomplished in his everyday life

But for the past few days, perhaps weeks now, you've noticed the nuances and shift in his demeanor. It was present in gaze, the way he spoke to you; as if he was evasive, guilty almost, but you didn't want to venture into that kind of thinking because your heart had hurt too much at the thought of one of your mates betraying you in such manner. 

Clark and Steve would never hurt you in any way. The fact in itself was cemented into your very soul, because all throughout your three years of togetherness— two in marriage, they've bonded you to them in any way they could. Through the marks. Through paper. And most importantly; with their love and devotion. 

For as long as you could remember, they have tirelessly and endlessly wooed you. There was not a single day that passed that you never felt special, what with their promise to court you and love you forever. And you've never doubted your husband, and you won't start to. Not when they have never given you any reason to. 

“Honey?” You knocked on his door in order to get his attention, that seemingly effective, as he raised his head to look towards you.

“Sweetheart?” Clark was startled he failed to hear you or sense your presence, until you were all he could pay attention to. Your scent, the most beautiful fusion of pumpkin and vanilla, calmed his racing thoughts. His eyes raked over your form in a slow descent, admiration clear in his eyes, but his brows furrowed perceptively at your lack of footwear. “The floor is cold, come here.” He beckons with a slight reprimand to his tone. 

Slowly, you walked towards him, rubbing your eyes to rid of any residual sleep. Within arms length, he pulled you down to his lap, arms instinctively wrapping around your smaller frame and pulling you to his chest. Nuzzling into his neck, you let out a satisfied chirp as you were flooded with the enticing scent of your alpha. 

“I woke up and you were gone,” You murmur against his neck, voice tinged with sadness. Perhaps you had been spoiled with too much affection that you had become increasingly reliant on their presence— Now, due to the nature of their work and constant travelling, both Clark and Steve had made it so, one or the other if not both should always be with you. This notion was followed to a T which satisfied all parties involved, so you were quite sensitive when it wasn't. 

“I know, i'm sorry sweetheart.” Clark coaxed you gently, his voice no louder than a whisper that tickled your ears. “I had a few paperworks that i final review before i sign on it,” 

“Can i stay with you?” You bit your lower lip anxiously and stared at him through your lashes. “I'll behave. I just really missed you.” your voice was soft and pliant as you pleaded. 

Clark felt the lump in his throat again. The feelings he was repressing all coming down in a defeaning crash onto him. He was confronted with the fact of his neglect towards you with the days past. Clark knows that you may be growing suspicious, and for good reason, yet not one he was strong enough to admit yet. He wanted to say it. To blurt it out, but to admit it out loud would shatter all of his formerly built pretense. Instead, he hugged you tighter, hopefully translating all his love and affection towards it. 

“I love you so much, tesoro.” He utters with conviction, “More than my own life.” you felt his head dip, and your foreheads touch. You were suddenly awashed with various emotions, and you swallowed down the questions you wanted to ask.

Although the confession was abrupt, it didn't stop you from echoing the sentiment. “I love you more.” you whisper. “more than my own life.” you repeated.

His grip on you tightened, if possible. As if he was holding onto you for dear life, to which you tried to ease him with gentle touches and tender caress all over his body. You pressed butterfly kisses all over the side of his face, whispering words of assurance to your husband. 

“Everything will be alright, my love.” 

Clark desperately wanted it to be true. 

•••

The next morning, you woke up alone. There was no sign of Clark, as you approached the first floor after showering and getting dressed. Only the staff were present bustling around to do their respective duties. 

“When did Clark leave?” You asked the housekeeper.

“At around five, ma'am.” She answers, and you thanked her before heading towards the dining. 

As you sat, you were immediately served with breakfast, but you lacked the appetite to even pick up your spoon. Just thinking about your husband's strange behavior had your mind in a talispin, listing out possibilities of what you could have done; was it something you had done? were they disappointed with you? what if they had finally had it with your inability to—

“Hey, doll face!” Natasha barged into the room, successfully interrupting your thoughts. “Mind if i have breakfast with you? Bucky's gone and i'm too lazy to cook for myself.” Before you could answer, she plopped down to a seat and was served with cutlery much like you were. 

Her morning visits were as frequent as could be which is why the staff were always quick. More often than not, anyways, it was Natasha you had breakfast with, due to her living close by and her husband Bucky being Steve's bestfriend and work associate. Needless to say, Natasha frequented your estate, and you were as closest to a friend as you could be. 

“Hey, doll face.” She tilts her head, “Call me a bitch, but i think you look evidently upset over something.”

“I'm fine, nat. And please, lay off with the crude vocabulary at such an early day.” you reply amusedly, trying to play it off. 

“It's okay, i'm insured.” She whips out a few dollar bills and left it at the table, the action was almost like a second nature to her seeing as she was a regular patron at the curse jar. “But you, my dear, seem awfully upset over something. What is it? What is a problem, that your overbearing husbands can't fix? You know you just blink wrong and Rogers and Kent would break the bones of some unassuming bastard.” She wiggles her eyebrows inriguingly. 

You couldn't help but shake your head, contemplating for a moment wether you should tell another soul; a close one to both you and your husband about what your sneaking suspicion. 

What if she thought you were just paranoid? Or laugh in your face? Or instead—

“Hey,” Nat calls out to you softly. “You don't have to tell me, immedieately. Or at all. But i'm here, and available if you feel like sharing.” she assures you, sincerity dripping from her tone while you visibly deflate. 

“It's gonna sound stupid.” you sigh. “b-but.. but i think they're hiding something.” 

“who?” the confusion was geniune. 

“Steve and Clark.” you utter once you find your voice again, reaching for the glass of water once you felt your mouth go dry at finally saying it out loud. 

“Why do you think so?” she asks carefully. 

“Maybe i'm sensitive..” trailing off you looked down at your lap, “but i, i just feel it, nat. The way they speak to me, neither of them can barely maintain proper eye contact for more than a minute. They're very brief, almost cryptic when they talk. They're always out, and we barely see eachother— it terrifies me.” blinking away the tears, you look up. 

“Oh darling,” She hushes, pulling you into a hug while you choked on a sob.

“I'm so scared Nat.” you whimper, tucking your chin into her shoulder. “'m so scared i'm gonna lose my alphas.” 

“I know for certain that's never going to happen, dollface.” natasha says earnestly, while you let the tears flow.