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pseudofaux · 3 years

Note

I'm partially embarrassed to request this hence the anonymity but I couldn't pass up asking for Ikevamp Charles abs body worship? Either or him doing the action to or reader to him. Actually reader granting Charles some sexy under table worship while seated at dinner sounds hot. Faust and Vlad get so much love he gets left behind I feel like. If you don't know his characterization well it's ok. I'll probably write something hot myself when my sexy imagination kicks in. Which oh boy I think it has. Love ya lots Pseu! You're writing is impeccable as always. :)

Ohhhhhhh, this is a really good idea and I think you are right on all counts! Originally I was going to have him seated with someone and open this with the other person (Faust?) asking “Where is she?” (🥵), but I think Mssr. Sanson could reeeeally benefit from some words during worship, so this is just the two of them. Please enjoy! And I hope when you write what you are inspired to that it makes you really happy. Or that it already did!❣️

(Requests are closed, readers, but there are a lot to be filled in May and likely June, too! Feel free to follow along or just check in and enjoy as many as you like. A masterlist will go up when they are all completed.)

The castle’s dining chairs are upholstered with silk, because... well, what else would be in Vlad’s beautiful home? That silk is fitted over very fine, full stuffing, and the arms are carved wood, dark and polished. The waxy scent of the polish gets in Charles-Henri’s nostrils in this place. He doesn’t mind it, but he is surprised how unavoidable it can be, even over her perfume. Even over what she is doing to him.

Which is, carefully and reverently, making him insane.

Her pretty skirt is spread out over her knees and the floor like a tent, the circle of it impeded only by the legs of his chair. And her mouth is on him and murmuring endless love. Her words might be silly if anyone were to write them down, but it’s like she took them right out of the darkest, loneliest places of his brain, and she doesn’t trip over them, so he is under her spell and her lips, and he does not want to get away.

“You’re delicious,” she says, so sweetly he laughs.

“You can’t taste me the way I can taste you,” he reminds her. She just hums like she is at the top of the food chain and fondles his balls like she is on the lowest rung of society. He shivers, not for the first time.

“You are,” she insists, sucking a tiny kiss onto his hip, “Delicious.”

“Whatever you say,” he mumbles, so pleased he is jittery. His soul knows and fears that any moment this attention could be snatched away, and he wants it but he can’t depend on it...

“So smooth,” she whispers, her harmless fingernails scraping down what she can reach of the inside of his legs. She knelt there a few moments ago and opened the front of his trousers like it was nothing, and she has been touching him and mouthing him and speaking to him ever since. Charles doesn’t know why this is happening (Did Vlad order her to do this, as some kind of reward for him?), and he won’t rely on it, but he is enjoying it. The way he bobs beside her cheek is proof enough of that.

Surely she feels it? She is gripping him.

“This part,” she whispers, squeezing him and beginning to tug, release, stroke with a practiced touch, “This is so wonderful. The things you do to me with it. I’m so happy I can do things to you, too.”

His fingers drum on the table like he’s playing a sonata. “You can’t,” he says. It’s weak. He’s weak. “You don’t have the power... to do anything.”

She chuckles from the place in her throat he wants to touch when he comes. And maybe she will let him, since she seems to be pulling all the things he wants out of his head tonight, here in this empty dining room. Even if he couldn’t feel all her kisses-- and he can-- he can hear them.

“It’s perfect. You are perfect, Charles-Henri,” she says. She kisses the tip of him and her lips come away sticky. She gives it right back to him when she mouths all her praises all over again down his length. “Smooth... so handsome... so very strong... delicious.” She breathes in through her nose, tucked down by his groin, and it’s such a deep inhale that it tickles him and makes him feel like she is trying to take him in every way she can. Does the hair above his cock tickle her nose? She doesn’t flinch.

“I like the way you smell,” she says as she sighs out the breath. It’s hot and damp against his already-agitated skin. Dreamily, she adds “But I love the way you feel. Want you in my mouth.”

What can he say to that? He’s not afraid of her, there’s nothing she can even do to him, but what she is doing to him... if she stops, he feels like his mind will break, and not in clean slice but in a terrible rendering with tears and uneven edges. This entire situation is so dangerous, it’s dark and lusty and makes him feel so good he doesn’t feel safe trusting it. But he can play along. He can always play along.

“Take me in your mouth, then,” he says. He wants it to be dry, but his eagerness bleeds out of him like the juice of an overripe squeezed fruit and makes it sound like a challenge, like he’s not just playing along over her head but playing with her. Thankfully, she takes the challenge, her wet mouth opening around him and sliding down like she is determined to play, too.

He puts his head back against the dark, polished wood of the back of the chair and groans at the feel of her on him. Can love exist in a mouth that is not speaking? Can he shove himself into the deepest part of her throat? Has she ever done this before? His mind is all questions and sensation, centered on how she sucks at him as she pulls back.

Her hum is accompanied by a slight sway. It looks like she is dancing, sinuous. Seductive.

Charles slides his hands off the table, smoother than a snake, and puts them in her hair. “Is that all you wanted?” he whispers to her. She shakes her head with a closed-mouth smile. “Then have more,” he hisses, and pulls her close. He doesn’t even touch the seam of her lips because she opens for him so readily, and that thought and her plush tongue make him groan again. He pulls her (and she goes, easily) all the way down, until her body rebels and convulses around him, then he pulls her back. “More?” he asks. “More of that?”

He is not prepared for the way she rasps a needy yes, or for the way his hands have to chase her head as she goes back to her work. When she pulls away her spit clings to him and it is thick with his early seed, a glimmer in the dimness of the room. “I always want more of you,” she promises before she goes right back down. And as she moves her head down his length and pulls off with wet pops and smacks, she keeps talking, keeps saying so many of the things he’s been wanting to hear. Not needing. Only wanting. but he has been wanting.

She swears under her breath, and slurps, and calls him manly. The base of each of her palms finds the front of hips and holds him tight while she moans on him. “I love this,” she tells him. “I love you.”

It shoots through him like a downfall of arrows. He should be cut open but he only shudders and tries to figure out how to urge her on without betraying how badly he wants her to keep going. Shouldn’t she know, isn’t that why she is doing this?

“Wish I could just stay here,” she sighs before taking him wet and deep. She makes some noise that feels like a gargle around him, like his cock is in a mineral spring, and his cum soaks her windpipe and her mouth as she slowly pulls back without a single cough. He would miss it if he did not feel quite so euphoric from all her words. They might be dangerous, but that’s because they were so good.

“Delicious,” she whispers with a wet, white smile. The pink of her tongue is paler under the coat of cream she seems so proud of. He stares, unwilling to blink, as she slowly moves it over her lips. When she is done she hums like she has just had a wonderful meal, though he was the only one at the table with a plate. Even if it was for show.

Her gasp when he hauls her up and throws her onto the pillow of her skirts on the table is really all he needs to live, he thinks. He takes her on the table and keeps his ear right by her mouth and his mouth right by her ear, so he can murmur all the possessive filth she’s risen to his surface like floodwaters. And catch everything she might say, too. Just in case she says anything else as he’s pounding her into the dark polished wood, pushing the scent of wax into her skin.

“You like me,” he chants several times. “Delicious.” Her earlobe has no taste of its own, but it is the most wonderful texture in his delicate bite. Some day soon he’ll give her the holes for several new earrings, he thinks. But for now he’ll fuck into her all the things he’s not going to say, because for now he is just playing along. He can always play along. Or so he tells himself.

#ikevamp charles #ikevamp charles-henri sanson #ikevam charles #ikevamp fanfiction #ikevam fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #ikevam fanfic #pseu slings #vlad's backup sadists

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robert-de-niro-only-fans · 4 years

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Absolute, Unconditional Surrender

Max Cady x Reader

All smut, no plot! Mature readers only!

Requested by @lamourducinema 💖✨

The title comes from Sexus by Henry Miller.

"To make absolute, unconditional surrender to the woman one loves is to break every bond save the desire not to lose her, which is the most terrible bond of all"

TW: SMUT, rough sex, deep throating, explicit sexual language, Max Cady in general

Word Count: 2.7k

"Hey, Max?" you call from the living room at your boyfriend's place.

"Yes, darlin'?" You hear him answer from the bedroom down the hall with that thick southern accent you had come to love.

"Come here! I have something to show you!"

"Oh? Well, why don't you bring it in here where I can get you in this bed?"

"But... Please? I promise you'll like it."

You're standing there leaning against a chair, dressed in some new lingerie you had bought. You just know it'll drive Max crazy. It's lacy and pastel colors: a two piece bra and panty with thigh high stockings and a choker beaded with pastel hearts and stars. Max is gonna love the sexy shape it takes on your body and how revealing it is and the child-like colors. He loves to play with the idea of you being so much younger and smaller than him.

You hear the man get up out of bed, and so you quickly stand up straight and put on a shy expression. Your legs are close together and your hands are holding each other behind your back, playing into how nervous you are to show him your new outfit.

He stalks down the hallway, tall, muscular, hair slicked back just the way he liked it.

"Oh baby..." is all he can say when he sees you in your lingerie. He lets out an excited grunt and makes his way across the living room to you in just a few steps of his long legs. He puts a hand on one of your shoulders and the other on your hip, squeezing his fingers into you as he looks you up and down.

After a moment, he spins you around slowly, so he can see your backside. He runs a hand over one of your butt cheeks before squeezing at it. He wraps his other hand around you, his hand landing on your chest at the base of your neck, and he pulls you back into him.

He gets right next to your ear and in a low voice asks, "Did you do this just for me, princess?"

You let out a hum as you feel his clothes pressing against your nearly bare body.

"Now, you know better than to not answer my question," he says, putting on a disappointed voice.

"Yes, I did it for you."

"Aww, see that's all you had to say," he says, turning you back around to fave him and backing you up into the wall, "you know I love it when you dress up for me, baby doll."

Max places his hands on either side of you, grabbing at your ribs, and he places a lengthy open-mouthed kiss on your lips. As your lips move together, you reach up and try to unbutton his shirt. He pulls away from the kiss and pushes your hands off of him.

"Is someone being a needy little baby tonight? Hmm?" He likes to talk to you like this, like he is in charge of you; it makes him feel like he has to protect you and take care of you. It also turns you both on to play this game, although it felt like it wasn't a game for Max sometimes.

"Well, you just look so good with your shirt off, I know you like to keep in shape."

"Aw, you sweet thing. You like my muscles?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mmm, well I like your little outfit," he says giving you another kiss, "but don't you think you should've come to the bedroom to show it to me, silly girl?"

"Well... I, uh," your voice trails off.

"You what, baby?"

"I was thinking maybe we could, um, do it in here."

"In here? Where in here?" He questions you in between kisses to your neck. You reach out and pat the arm of the big chair next to you. It was a big sturdy armchair that Max liked to sit in when you were in the living room. You spent a lot of time sitting in his lap making out with him in this chair before he would carry you back to his bedroom to make love to you.

He turned to look at your hand as your fingers lingered on the chair. "My chair? You want me to fuck you on my chair?"

You nod your head at him with a small smile, "Yes, please."

"Mmm, I guess you are feeling needy, honey," he says grabbing your by the hips and lifting you easily before sitting you on the side of the chair. He starts to make out with you again, as his hands travel to your thighs. He pushes them apart, teasing you by scratching there with his fingernails. When you let out a little whine, his hand moves to start massaging you through your panties.

You moan and arch your hips towards his hand. You pull away from his lips and ask in a breathy voice, "Can I take your shirt off, please?"

"Please what?"

There's a small pause, as you know what he expects you to say, but you like to make him wait for it. "Please, Daddy," you say, looking at up him through your lashes.

"Mm! Baby girl, you know I love it when you call me that... Yes ma'am, little darlin', you can take my shirt off," he says continuing his actions. You reach up to unbutton his shirt before sliding it off his shoulders, exposing his large biceps and toned abs that were covered in tattoos.

You let your hand slide down abdomin and past his belt to rub him through his pants.

"Ooh..." he says as he leans back down to you for another round of kisses. You feel him getting hard against your hand, and pretty soon he would be wanting more than just your hand on him.

He moves his hand away only for a second to slide it into your panties. The look of his big strong hand and long fingers disappearing into your pastel, lacy panties is a huge turn on for you. As his middle finger finds your clit and starts to stimulate you, a wave of pleasure passes through your body and you let out a loud, "Oh!" and your hand moves away from his pants and you try to grab at his sides, wanting him closer to you.

He makes a disappointed grunt at the loss of your hand. He grabs your hand and puts it back on his groin, and you try to move your hand against him and best you can, but you simply can't concentrate with the way his fingers are working between your legs.

"I'm disappointed, baby girl, you know I expect more from you. All distracted by my hand in your panties and you can't even think about me." Despite saying this, he still presses on pleasing you.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, it just feels so good," you say between heavy breaths.

"Oh, I'm sure it does, but you're just being a spoiled little girl. You want Daddy to make you feel good without doing anything for him," he mocks at you. "Well that just won't do," his hands leave you and he straightens up, towering in front of you, "you're gonna make me feel good too."

You look up at him sheepishly, "What do you want me to do?"

"Get on those knees for me."

"But... I'll mess up my new stockings! I got 'em to wear for you, Daddy," you argue. He likes it when you put up a bit of a fight, makes him feel like he's in charge, but he knows as well as you do that you have him wrapped around your little finger.

"Hmm, well you should've thought about that earlier, princess," he says, pulling you up off the chair and putting his hands on your shoulders, pushing you onto your knees in front of him.

His hands move to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, before he shoves them down to the floor. He puts his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, which here always small, silky, and vibrantly colored, to pull them down, but you reach up and stop him.

"Wait- can I do it? I feel bad about not making you feel good, Daddy," you explain to him.

"Aww, well, since you asked so kindly," he removes his thumbs from his briefs and puts a hand on your cheek and the other in your hair, "and I know what a good little angel you can be when you want to."

You reach up and grab his hard member through his underwear, teasing at the head by cupping you hand on it over and over again. He lets out a long low moan as he weaves his fingers into your hair. You lean forward, kissing and nibbling his member through the fabric. He becomes needy feeling the sensations traveling through his body. You fingertips grace over his the skin at his hips and happy trail just above the waistline of his underwear.

"Oh, now you're just being a tease..." He says looking down on you. He looks great from this angle. Looking up on him, his abs look more defined and his lusty eyes stare at you through his lashes.

You simply smile at him, kissing him through his underwear a few more time while you look into each other's eyes.

"Don't you act like you're innocent-" he starts to say, but you cut him off by pulling his hard length out and taking the tip in your mouth. As you please and suck on it, you push his silky underwear down around his ankles. Max, being the noisy lover he is, starts grunting and breathing heavily, finally finding some relief in the warm and wet of your mouth.

"Oh god, darlin'," he leans forward over you, putting a hand on the chair behind you for support and the other grips the back of your head at the nape of your neck, "you look so pretty with my cock between your lips."

When you feel the tip of his penis hit the back of you mouth, he moans loudly and begins to rock his hips into your mouth. When he starts to tug at your hair, moving your head back and forth, you know what he wants. You relax your mouth and throat as much as you can, and he pushes his length back into your throat.

"Good girl..." he practically growls, "Such a good girl for Daddy." His movements become a bit bigger, essentially fucking your face. You do your best to stay relaxed for him and try not to gag too much. You look up at him through your lashes; he looks down at you in pure ecstacy like there was no better feeling on Earth.

After a few moments, he started moving slower, pulling out almost entirely and then pushing all the way back in. He does this a few times before pulling out entirely.

"I'm not gonna lie to ya, baby girl; I got pretty close there and had to slow down," he said through heavy breaths and a chuckle.

"You could've finished if you wanted to," you say while trying to wipe the drool from your mouth. Max grabs his shirt from the floor to wipe your mouth.

"Oh, and missed out on fucking that little pussy of yours? I don't think so, little miss," he helps pull you up off your knees, "now get on that chair for Daddy."

You turn around and prop one knee up on the chair and arch your back so your butt pops out a bit.

"Mmm, you want it like that, baby?" Max asks with his eyebrows raised.

"Mm-hmm," you nod your head at him excitedly.

"Whatever you want, honey," he walks up right behind you and snakes his hand into your panties again, "since you were such a good girl for me."

You gasp lightly when he flicks a finger over your clit. He massages your there for a moment before removing his hand, grabbing your panties at the back, and pulling them to the side.

"I like your little surprise you had for me. I hope you don't mind if I fuck you in it," he whispers next to your ear. Behind you, you hear him spit in his hand and rub it around the head of his erection. You let out an eager moan when you feel him rubbing it back an forth on your entrance. Carefully, he pushes past your lips and enters you.

You move your hips up and down, taking him in deeper and deeper with each movement. The angle of him towering over you as you lean on the chair allows him to find your g-spot easily. When you begin to make noises letting him know how pleasured you feel, he grips your hip bones tightly and starts fucking into you hitting that sensitive area again and again. You begin letting out noises involuntary, whining and yelling as his dick slams into you.

"So wet and loud for me, baby girl..." he grunts into your ear, "and it's all mine, right?"

You furrow your eyebrows unable to form words, "Uhh-huh..." you utter.

"What's that, princess? Answer me. Are you mine? Do you belong to me?" he questions you.

You simply whine and arch your back, enjoying the feeling of him inside you. You feel a large muscular hand clasp around your neck and pull you back towards his chest.

"Answer me!" he growls, fucking into you furiously. As his hand clenches your airway, you feel the beads from your new choker pressing into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving a ring of little bruises.

With your head laid back on his shoulder, you look over at him as you feel the pleasure of the loss of blood circulation to your head, "Yes..." you squeak out. He loosenes his grip in your throat so you can speak. You cough a little bit and say, "Yes, Daddy, I'm all yours, Daddy!"

"That's what I like to hear; that's my good girl," he coos to you. The hand he had on your hip wraps around to your front and presses on your belly, forcing you to feel his hardness inside you. Your moans grow louder, and he continues to squeeze his hand around your throat ever-so-often.

You turn into a mess in Max's have as you feel your climax coming, "Max, baby... I'm gonna cum."

"Good, baby, good," he slides his hand down to massage your clit once again, and within seconds you're coming undone. Being pleased inside and out, you yell out for Max letting out string of "Daddy" over and over.

The man behind you squeezes down on your throat again, letting you feel the ecstacy of being choked while you orgasm. He also uses this as grip to grind his hips into you harder. Your orgasm continues on for a long time as your g-spot takes a pounding while Max searches for his own finish.

"Oh, I'm gonna cum inside you, baby. Daddy's gonna fill you up, princess," his pumps become quick and more rhythmic as he reaches his climax. He grabs your hips and shoves into you hard and deep; you feel his warm seed as he empties into you.

When he pulls out of your he releases his grip on your neck and steps back from you. You try to get your leg off the chair and lower it to the floor, but it starts shaking.

"You okay, little darlin'?" Max asks.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," you chirp to him.

When you try to stand up and step away from his chair, your shaky legs betray you. Max steps over quickly, catching you in his strong arms.

"Silly baby... I guess I fucked you 'til you couldn't walk anymore," he smiled, quite proud of himself. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up and go to bed." He scoops you up bridal style to carry you to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, Max is excellent with aftercare. As much as he likes to use and abuse your body for pleasure, he also likes to check on you, ask you if the sex was good, clean you up, and comfort you afterwards. He feels that if he doesn't take care of you, you won't let him play out his fantasies with you, which is his favorite thing to do.

And so he takes out a washcloth to clean you off, tells you how pretty you looked in your cute lingerie, and cuddles you until you fall asleep in his arm.

#robert de niro #tw: max cady #max cady #max cady x reader #robert de niro x reader #fanfic #cape fear #this is a bit spicier 🔥🌶️ than my usual fics #creepy loml

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onthewaytosomewhere · 4 months

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‘It’s my right as a bisexual to sit this way.’ Firstprince

💚 thanks for the prompt luv - Gabe me an opportunity to play with a different take than the Henry getting lusty thoughts

Alex sprawls across the sofa, towel under him to collect the sweat from his run this morning; he knows they have a full house, but going off the other morning's figures, he has at least an hour before anyone else ventures from bed. He no more than completes that thought when June walks into the room, “What the hell, bro, put a shirt on and some more decent shorts. I do not need to see you sprawled like you’re waiting for someone to ‘paint you like one of their French girls’ this early in the morning.”

“First of all, Bug, it’s my right as a bisexual to sit this way. And second of all, I assumed y’all would still be curled up in bed, so no one would see me sprawled on the sofa in my own home.” He rolls from the sofa, bringing the towel with him, and stands to head to the bedroom and a shower.

“For what it’s worth, I think anyone other than me would have been more than happy to stumble upon you sprawled like that, especially in those shorts. I mean, I get they say it’s the summer of the slutty shorts for men, but seriously no wonder Henry says so many in the neighborhood seem to find themselves outside when you run. Little Bit, those things look smaller than a pair of daisy dukes.”

“Oh, shove it, Bug,” he jokes as he walks out of the room. He gets to the room and finds Henry sitting up, resting against the headboard, book in hand. He tosses the book onto his bedside table and seems to rake his eyes over Alex.

“For the record, I will be very put out if you stop wearing those shorts; in fact, if we didn’t currently have so many people in our home, I would show you exactly how much I approve of them.”

Alex laughs and tosses his wet shirt and the towel in the hamper, “I’ll take a raincheck on that; I’m very much interested in this. But, I suppose now I should shower, and we can get to all those people.” He strips off the last of his clothes and winks at Henry suggestively. He laughs at the moan from Henry, where he sits on the bed and walks to the shower. They have a big day planned, and it all starts with making breakfast, and he really doesn’t want any of them messing up their kitchen without him there.

can also be found on ao3

#ficlet friday #firstprince #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #alex claremont diaz #june claremont diaz #june ribbing alex for his short running shorts #Henry likes those shorts so don't listen to her Alex

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littlefreya · 5 years

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Bad Reputation

Synopsis: Henry and his girl can’t get enough from one another. They keep finding themselves in rather sticky and lusty situations while other actors are present around them. 🤭

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, exhibition kink, public display of affection, dirty language, slight fingering, daddy kink.

A/N: This is by request made for thigh riding! I see this as a slight sequel to Putting up a Show and Good Girl just because in my mind they are the same couple. Many thanks again to the marvellous @agniavateira for doing the beta! Masterlist is here.

Let me know if you want to be added/removed! Thank you for reading as always :)

PR fucking nightmare - that’s what our managers call us.

They thought it would go away after our first year of dating. But the sad truth is, Henry just loves to touch, and I’m a hot-blooded woman who loves to fuck shit up. Three years in being married and the line is so goddamn blurry by now; I am never quite certain which one of us initiates it, nor do I even care.

I see my bear sitting sprawled across the red leather sofas, legs spread open as he can never keep them shut. I know I’m terribly biased but that black tuxedo suit sure as hell looks great on his strong figure, especially with the crooked bowtie and the beard he’s been growing for his new movie role.

And as if the bad boy vibes and big dick energy he sends everywhere wasn’t enough, the half-empty Grey Goose bottle on the round golden table next to him and the slight sweat that covers his forehead is a red flag that we are definitely getting into trouble tonight.

Bring it on.

Armie is sitting right next to him, telling him about some scheme by the gesture he is making with his hands. But I can tell Henry has other things on his mind. I can feel his eyes looking at me even when I am standing far away. Our gazes meet, he offers me a mischievous smile, showing off the large dimples of his cheeks. This is what I call a wet, slippery invention.

I blush and look away. I mean, I have Rebecca Ferguson holding my forearms. That woman makes me want to invite her into our bedroom, but Henry doesn’t like sharing, not even with women. It doesn’t matter how much I’d pout and beg, he likes me all to himself, and he loves it when others can see that I am his.

It’s always his hand between my thighs, riding up higher, thumb tickling at my clit teasingly. We sat through an entire acceptance speech with him working me hard. If anyone looks closely at that video on Youtube, you can see the exact moment when he hits the spot.

Sorry, Leo, I wasn’t smiling because you won.

This is us being subtle. Hotels and parties, however, are a different story. We already had a manager quit on us because we made sure the entire floor hears what we are doing through the night.

Rebecca kisses me on the cheek, the gorgeous Swedish redhead is already tipsy, and I’ve had my second glass of wine. She’s in a red satin dress, her impressive breasts showing through her cleavage. I also spot a few freckles on her chest. It makes me pout and look at Henry, who shakes his head in refusal.

“Where is your hubby anyway?” she asks playfully, and I point in the direction of where he is sitting. Armie is just getting up, leaving Henry alone. He pours himself some more vodka, fills the glass with ice and then takes a sip with a lustful gaze. That’s probably my cue to keep him company and take that glass away.

That video when he told everyone to get naked will forever be online. He also has a tendency to start making impressions of others when he is flustered, and I can’t contain my laughter when that happens.

“He’s too drunk to get up.” I sigh, shaking my head while he makes playful, sad faces at me. I shrug and take my phone out my purse, seeing two text messages from him.

Henry: “Where are you, babygirl?” Henry: “I want to squeeze that ass.”

I text him back “Armie’s? Go for it. Can we have Rebecca, pleaaaaase?”

He reads my reply, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in complete refusal.

“Not. sharing. you. Do you want me to spank you in front of all these people?”

Rebecca is oddly enough very touchy-feely, her hand sliding down my forearms while she speaks about how wonderful Henry is, and how fun it was to work with him on MI6.

“He’s not like all the other ones, he is an actual friend,” she explains to me, her beautiful green eyes lighting up.

“I know, that’s how he got me, pretended to be my friend for years.” I chuckle, remembering the times we were still just friends. If you look at videos of us from interviews and photos from events from the time we worked together, you’d think we’ve been dating already. He always touched me subtly, his eyes staring at me intently when I speak. And of course, no one cracks him up the way I do.

But Henry waited 5 years for both of us to be single at the same time to “kidnap” me during a walk with our dogs at the forest, where I’d literally be unable to run away. He did that so he can tell me he’s been in love and growing in love with me ever since we met.

I smile at the sweet memory. I held my tears when that word left his lips.

“I’ll come to say hello later, I’m starving,” she says and rubs her belly gently. I nod and lean forward to kiss her, deliberately kissing her soft, red-painted lips for Henry to see. Us girls, we really don’t mind.

As I turn to face him, he is already frowning. He’s not amused by my vexing behaviour. I give him my best angelic posture, batting my lashes and holding my hands together while my head is tilted to the side. In that pale blue and silver dress, I might look like some saint right now, but my darling knows I’ve come from south to heaven.

I make my way to him, walking slowly, a smile both in my eyes and between my cheeks. I can feel the fire burning in my chest, the sight of him is dashing, those thick thighs ever so inviting. He spreads his legs even wider, the bulge in his groin made only for me. He has his pinky finger pressed between his teeth while checking me out.

My body heeds his calling, I’m tingling wet.

I stand in front of him, my cheeks warm as if this is a first hook up of some sort. Henry rises his beautiful blues to stare straight into my eyes. The beaming lights in the hall make his sweaty skin glow in neon pink and gold, his eyes flashing bright as the different colours dance across his face.

“How many of those have you had?” I ask, gesturing at the glass, noticing the half-empty bottle. I hope not too much, I expect to be rammed tonight when we return to the hotel.

He shrugs, putting the glass away without bothering to finish it. He is British, and boy, he can drink a lot. He is not as half as flustered as a different guy would be, but yes, he is certainly quite drunk. Enough to give me that look of his-one eyebrow rising up-while his eyes drink in my dress, cleavage, ass, and that slit that runs from my legs to my thighs.

My friends asked me if Henry is an ass or tits man, to which my answer was “he is ‘all of me’ man.”

“Gotta love women's liberation.” He speaks in a deep, low voice, gesturing at my provocative dress.

“Come to daddy.” He demands, holding out his hand for me to come and sit on his thigh. To which I am more than happy to comply.

I spread my legs, moving to straddle his muscular thigh. There is a burning sensation at my core as my pelvis meets his taut muscle. My body always reacts to his touch. Henry’s hands immediately take my face, thumbs stroking at my cheeks.

“Why do you tease me, beautiful?” he murmurs, his fierce gaze tracing my face, always taken by me, memorizing every freckle and flaw as if it’s the first time we ever sit so close. God, he makes me feel so beautiful even in my ugliest of ugly days.

I lean forward to get even closer, my ass riding up his leg and my hands reach out to tug at his white buttoned shirt. “Oh, Henry-Bear, it’s. So. much. fun.”

Someone sits right next to us on the big red sofa, saying a friendly hello. We answer at the same time, without breaking eye contact. We never bother looking who is the actor, producer, or whatever who moved to bug us. Too lost in our own little mist of admiration. Henry’s fingers descend from my face to my neck, fingers skirting down my neck sensually.

“You know what I love about these ceremonies and parties?” he asks as he leans closer to whisper in my ear and then places a wet, lingering kiss on my shoulder. His chin pushes the straps of my dress away, letting it fall on my forearm as if by accident. I let it glide, shivering as the coarse hair of his beard marks my flesh.

“I get to show you off while you’re wearing these outrageous dresses and everyone knows I am taking you home to fuck you until sunrise.”

I chuckle lustfully, my tongue pressed between my teeth. “Last time we didn’t even make it home remember?” I hum gently, feeling his rough touch on my breasts. The tip of his thumbs circles my nipples, teasing them to harden through the thin fabric of my dress. I wouldn’t give a fuck if Henry had me topless right now and sink his fangs in my tits for everyone to see. But he is far too selfish, I was made for his eyes and his eyes only.

He settles for a “chaste” show, laying a kiss beneath my chin and then pressing his face at my cleavage, inhaling the scent of my body lotion before nibbling at my breast through my dress. His breath smells like vodka-sweet and spicy at once.

“I remember, Cumberbatch saw the whole thing,” he answers, his hands holding my ribs, slightly guiding me to move my body on top of his thigh in ghostlike movements. I am searing hot, my mound feels as if it’s seconds from catching fire. I am certain he can feel it, his blue eyes now hazy and dreamlike as they watch the pink tint that runs through my neck to my cheeks.

“Fuck me, daddy, I am so horny!”

My whisper comes out as half a cry, weak and desperate. My body is a void, it suffers without his touch, it aches when we’re disjointed. I hope we’ll never stop feeling this way toward one another.

“Ride me, babygirl.” he urges me, raising his thigh up higher, so I’ll slide down closer. The friction makes me lose sight for a moment. My vision blurs as I throb wet and hot onto him. Good thing his trousers are black, otherwise, everyone would be able to detect the wetness I am leaving on his pants.

I can’t reject his decree, my body needs him.

“You like it when they watch, don’t you?” he asks me with a slightly slurred voice. His hands glide down to squeeze my ass, assisting me in dancing on the rock-hard muscle of his leg. I am grinding slow and rough, shifting my weight forward, my right hand reaching his other thigh, clawing at him with growing pleasure.

Everyone is looking at us, I am sure, some embarrassed and perhaps even appalled. How puritan of you Hollywood. These people formed their own religion and hidden sex clubs. But I am convinced many enjoy this facade and discreetly salute us, some probably holding out their cameras.

I roll my hips up and clench my inner thighs, whimpering as my body begins to tremble.

It doesn’t matter who is staring while I ride him so passionately, seeking my pleasure with urgency while Henry’s hands support me, saddling my hips and pulling me toward him. We don’t see anyone else. We’re locked into one another, the way we always did, just like when Henry had a girlfriend, when we were “just friends” when I dated that asshole. We’d walk into a room, and it was just me and him, hearts and chest bursting with love.

Every moment we couldn’t have one another was stolen from us, we now fight to own it back.

“I’d sit you on my face in front of everyone, but I think Gretchen would kill us.” Henry half whispers against my throat and then licks up my neck as I lift my chin to the ceiling with gaping lips. He has his hand between my legs, drawing at my centre and sneaking between the slit of my dress to finish the job.

“Fuck!” he teases my clit, his middle finger travelling at my seams. My entire existence shudders. The bass of the music blasts through my chest, my eardrums throb, and my eyes see all the colours of the neon at once as my cunt implodes with orgasmic bliss. Henry steals my gasp into his mouth, his hand pressing my cheeks, crushing my mouth with hunger.

Who could ever hate us for our expression of true love?

I gasp feverishly, holding onto him as if I’m about to fall. Henry’s lips are on my temple and then my cheek. Pressing against me and not moving away. He envelops me in his big arms, a clear statement to all our viewers that I am his and he is mine. We both move our heads to see who's been sitting next to us this entire time.

Alec Baldwin and Jake Gyllenhaal. They pretend not to stare, at least Alec does. Jake gives us a wide, knowing smile. Everyone else has also been staring as I hear the whispers and gasps.

“Really? They did that again!?”

We bump our foreheads together and snicker with delight. Like we ever gave a fuck about being caught. It’s not the first time, won’t be the last. We just can’t get our hands off of each other.

“Better call Gretchen now.” I tell Henry, hanging my arm around his thick neck.

“Before or after I fuck you in one of the back rooms here?”

#Henry Cavill #Smut #Henry Cavill Smut #Henry Cavill Fic #Henry Cavill x OFC #Henry cavill fanfic #Fanfic #henrycavillsmut #henrycavillfanfic #henrycavillxofc #henrycavillfic

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Sinners in a Pod (Chapter 1)

Updates for this will start posting after Witcher of the Night is finished. So, chapter 1 for this will only be posted right now and shall continue its updates soon. Currently, this is on hiatus. But, please do tell me what you think if you manage to read this! Thank you! 💞

PROLOGUE (Summary)

Characters: Mob/Professor!Henry Cavill x small!stalker!reader (AU)

Warnings: 18+ Blood. Death. Psychopathic issues. The Mafia. Suggestive content and thinking. Stalker and manipulative reader. The word ‘Daddy’ used in different ways? (I don’t even know why this is a warning?) Y/L/N means Your Last Name.

Words: 6.3k

A/N: Il babbo means Father and il compagno means comrade. Tell me if I’m wrong, I’m using google translate on this one. Sorry, if I’m making this on a hiatus. I wanna see how this will click for anyone. Also, the Geralt fic comes first because I wanna finish it. Hehehehe.

TAGLIST WILL BE OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! (I hope you would, bb!) IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

9:35 AM.

Mr. Cavill has been well-known in just his first day of becoming the substitute for your previous professor who has died due to an infectious disease that still had no cure. He has been the main topic of every person in the campus. Your professor in History was a complete hot-shot. An additional fact about him being attractive was his unconventional pedagogic style that can get students listening to every word that leaves his mouth, leaving you all wanting to hear more than just his educational discussions.

His presence definitely aroused each and every women's curiosity in your campus; hearing gossips about how they were willing to be the teacher's pet to have a piece of what your professor could offer like he was being treated as a play thing or some sort of food that they wanted to have a taste despite of how indecent it sounded. The hungry felines were willing and taking their chances, seeming to want and do it to also save their grades from their previous quizzes and special tests that they have taken from the deceased professor.

Until, You started to realized that you were even included in one of those students who was thoroughly affected by his presence; lately comprehending that he was being the main image of your filthy fantasies every night.

Especially whenever you notice how he tries to keep eye contact with you whenever he discusses. Your best friend can see how he kept on taking secretive glimpses without anyone noticing. Nonetheless, one person did and he was unlucky to have been caught by your best friend who promised to never lie and keep secrets when it involves you.

Though, there are certain situations that should be kept from her. Specifically the part about what happens every night with the idea of your professor fucking you like he'd never want you to walk for seven days straight.

That kind of fucking where you both can be considered as animals in a rut.

It took one look from your best friend to know that he was staring again. You could imagine his piercing ocean blue eyes that had a speck of brown drowning with it; observing every breath and move you make under those black spectacles of his. Curly hair gelled back looking professional but so tempting to be yanked hard.

You suddenly shook your head at the thought, blinking hard while you tried to keep focus on your paper.

Your best friend was done with her pre-test, but you weren't. She kept on silently but repeatedly snapping her fingers under her desk, giving you a signal that he was doing it again. You tried hard ignoring your best friend who was just clearly beside you; bringing you into a much more dangerous scenario by having your test incomplete or rather receiving a failing grade that would make you repeat this subject again.

Then, you'd remember the professor who could get you writhing under his gaze. He was also one of your fantasies---the one and only who could get you off every night---though, leaving you insatiable and craving for more.

Immodest thinking, but it was worth it every time you came.

"Daddy's lookin' again, hunny! Oh, teach me your ways, please! I would so let him fuck my ass raw, I tell you," She whisper-yelled knowingly. Only silence can be heard from around the four corners of the room, constant pages being flipped one by one, triggering you into panicking more than you should because you were still stuck on page one. You eyed the multiple choice that was written. 'Is it A? B? Or C?'

Your eyes narrowed on your test paper, struggling to think of an answer for the last question of the first page. The pen in your hand stopped on letter B, and in one quick motion. You encircled the whole letter before turning to the next page in a jiffy, never thinking whether your answer was right or wrong.

A small creak from your best friend's chair caught your attention, half on the test and half on your noisy best friend; seeming to be the person who was asking you answers when you haven't even finished the damned test yet.

"Psst! Bitch!"

You've sighed an exasperated one from being constantly distracted by everyone and especially from the penetrating gaze you could feel whenever Mr. Cavill tries to check on how everyone was doing from his desk.

"Ms. Rodriguez, I would rather like it if you try and keep your hands on your desk when you're done with the test,"

All together, the whole class turned their heads towards your best friend who had a panicking, shocked look written on her face. Her eyes seeming to tell she was guilty of trying to distract you while you answer the paper at hand. She evidently gulped, nodding silently and tentatively slipping her palms across her desk like a child getting a scolding. Embarrassment filling her body, the paper beneath her hands appearing to be more interesting rather than the gossip she ought to tell.

Mr. Cavill looked to be insouciant from her tricks, His eyes completely blank, cochineal lips forming a thin line from what he had in mind, "You all have thirty minutes left," the suave and sophisticated twang of his accent got you shifting in your seat. His baritone timbre that kept you up every night; never failing to give your core a throb whenever you get to listen to it personally rather than imagining it had you fidgeting with the sharp ends of your test paper.

He leaned back in his seat, the obvious bulk in his arms protruding once it was crossed. Your professor had always wore that extra tight, white dress shirt despite how it was popping out due to his sinewy biceps. The thatch of his chest hair slipping above the second to the last button of his clothing. You knew he was jacked in the flesh, the filament of his muscles straining out of his clothing which gives you images of what he could be like when he was stark-naked.

You had a bad habit of daydreaming in the wrong time.

Those Lapis Lazuli were brilliant under the morning sunlight that was escaping through the windows. Those eyes that you've been able to memorize landed on you, a sudden jolt in your insides made you feel warm and tingly.

"Please, do finish the test before the time is up, Students."

You were the first to break his gaze, the papers were an important matter and you didn't want to fail. Reason to that is because you didn't want to disappoint him by giving him a result that could make him think that you were never actually have been listening to his lessons and have just been daydreaming about his pretty little mouth on yours every day.

It was illicit of you to even think about having his mouth on yours or all over your body, exploring you till his curiosity would be answered and the same goes to yours. The devil was probably grinning in hell because of how risquè your thoughts have been.

Your soul was probably going to burn in hell.

Yet, on second thought; all seemed to be worth it.

Especially when you've been trying to stalk him for about two weeks already.

You haven't been caught yet; but, the idea of being collared seem to be a prize when you were a sinner.

10:05 AM.

"Time's up, everyone." Mr. Cavill's smooth, reverberant voice made you jump in your seat. You were only on the third page of your test and there were three pages left. The sheer frustration went to your head, emitting a vocal groan and a hard bite on your dried up lips. Every loud beat of your heart made your hand tremble in panic. Your eyes skimmed through every question, randomly circling any letter as long as you get to finish the damn test and not be left alone. Despite how anxious it made you feel, deep inside; you knew you were anticipating such a moment.

"Its time to pass your papers. Get your bags and you can go, I'll be seeing you guys tomorrow," He spoke in a monotone manner, his chair creaking once he stood up tall and lusty, grabbing onto the pile of papers, neatly stocking every test one by one with those hefty, streaking fingers of his as each student passed by in front of him. Some women slyly sparing him a glance, trying to check him out and that outstanding derriere of his as they smirked and quietly giggled on their way out.

Your tall, lanky but quite fit block mate stood along the threshold. His bright hazel eyes, tanned skin and dark red lips drawn with a grin as he held onto nothing but his pen; known to be a nerd but also a philanderer who had innocuous looks that appeared to be like he spends his time nose diving in games and books, "Have a great day, Mr. Cavill!"

"You too, Brent."

You could feel your breath shortening, grappling to answer your test urgently. Your breath hitched when somebody tapped your shoulder, you turned to look at the person you were expecting, but was left disappointed when you saw your best friend eyeing your papers; scrutinizing everything inside her head.

"Oh, you're doomed, Y/N." She inspected your answers and observed how her brows raise in an uncanny way, obtrusively telling that your answers were beyond incorrect. There were still students inside the room, slowly taking their time to leave before undergoing another set of lessons to be learned soon from their other professors.

"---I'll get going now, see you later, Chiquitita!"

She didn't even gave you a chance to ask some answers to your tests. What are friends even for?

Once the door was shut by her and others who left one by one, it was like every blood in your veins stopped cycling. No noise could be heard. You could feel an intense pair of ocean blue eyes began shooting you holes through your body that gave you the shivers.

Now, it was just you, him and nobody else.

You mentally gave yourself a slap for not reviewing for his test. It was quite embarrassing for him to see how you were struggling for a test that was undoubtedly easy for everyone.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Your professor started completely unfazed by your endeavor to get the test done in a minute. You breathed out a breath in utter frustration, closing your eyes and capping your pen closed. The time was up.

A large, warm hand gently clasped your shoulder, and you were sure you felt the imaginary sparks from it that also held a flush of shivers, creating a reaction that made your whole body go rigid.

"---Don't rush, you have all the time." Mr. Cavill surprisingly spoke in his calm, low voice. Warm, comforting heat gathered in a close proximity and before you could even realize what was happening; he was already hovering from behind, checking your answers for you.

His breathtaking face were inches away from you, his perfect side profile seen from your peripheral vision and his spectacles slightly falling on his tall, pointy nose. The dimple on his nose winsome for your taste and for every thirsty felines as well. Eyelashes long that can be considered as pretty, an exact length to beautify his eyes a lot more than it would. There was something mysterious about what lies beneath his bright azure eyes. Something dark was laying deep inside of it but it was a locked up window that nobody could ever get to see and understand.

Something about him was making you more intrigued for what his lifestyle is and the more curious you are, the more you were getting yourself at risk. Deeper. Intrusive. You were going to risk it all.

The deep scar on the top of his right eye brow distracted you from thinking anymore else. It looked like a battle scar that he once got from a fight, and it was quite interesting to see such a perfect face that held a flaw; telling you he was actually human after all and not a prince in your dreams.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I suppose you never listen to any of my lessons, am I correct?"

Oh, the way he says your last name always made you sin. Heat traveled towards your face, and some even had the audacity to travel down south. It was wrong.

You had to stop.

"I-I..I do, Sir." You struggled to keep your mind straight. Your eyes stared straight at the whiteboard in front of you, never giving him a glance.

Those heavy gaze of his fell on you; piercing and utterly inquisitive; giving your heart a chance to leave the curiosity before he would want to pry a lot about you that you couldn't imagine him to know, you could feel the disappointment within his eyes that crushed your hopes in making him proud.

"All of your answers are incorrect. It seemed like you've been guessing your answers the whole time,"

Shame and guilt was all you felt at that exact moment. The ends of Mr. Cavill's lips formed a tight thin line before languidly curving into a small, sinister smile that he never gave to any of his students. Yet, you were an exception.

"Must I say, do I sound uninteresting for you?"

An excruciating ring of your school bell rang loudly enough for you to jerk on your seat. You couldn't deny the intense attraction you were feeling towards your professor. The windows weren't locked anymore, and you knew for a fact that you've seen the treacherous glint in his eyes; giving you the key for you to decide if you wanted to enter. Deep down something diabolical lived inside and it left you curious enough to dig down whatever hidden darkness it could be.

"I..I.." You anxiously trailed off and stared into his eyes, feeling yourself get enticed by the gorgeous hues around his dark pupils. He was bold enough to stare back, his face too close for your liking.

"You think I don't notice it at all, do you? you're interested---curious even and that curiosity of yours will risk you a lot, sweetheart."

The words that came out of his mouth were utmost accurate, you felt your throat become dry from getting caught red-handed and from how he could read you with his eyes. Your professor was totally unbelievable and you didn't know whether or not he was just too conceited enough to say it straight to your face like it wasn't wrong nor indecent.

"I think...y-you got everything wrong, sir." you quickly scrambled out of your seat, books falling from your hands and you crouched down to get it, yet your professor was faster than you. He gathered those fallen books and stood undeniably tall, placing them on your opened palms. His eyes absolutely unreadable. You couldn't see what his emotions are at the moment, and it was terrifying to see that he looked like a sociopath for one second before playfulness have been replaced within his eyes.

He looked down at you, a small smile on show, "You think? No, Darling,---" Mr. Cavill momentarily paused with a smirk that got you swallowing the uncomfortable, heated feeling down your throat.

"---I know what's running inside those pretty head of yours and I assure you, it can be shameless and utterly unchaste as it can get,"

Without any second thought, you had everything around your arms; running out of the room. Never looking back at your professor who lowly chuckled to himself, seeing how he connected the dots with the right pattern. He knew you would end up walking with the same path as him, together and as one because of how you were hunting him down behind his back.

You were only acting. He could feel it.

Your unfinished paper was left on your desk, the ends of your test so wrinkly from the hard tugs while you tried remembering the right answers to those questions on his test. He remembered your face, he remembers every move you make all day and Henry knew you've been his shadow for the last two weeks like a canine he didn't remember that he has adopted.

Mr. Cavill had your papers at hand. He smiled to himself and with no doubt, he ticked every question correct despite of your wrong answers.

You passed his test and darkness was bound to happen soon.

10:20 PM.

The strange encounter you had with your professor didn't stop your undying attraction towards him, to be honest. It lured you into knowing more about him; becoming selfish to the point of being invasive, secretly following him around to find details about him and his life. All you knew was his name and that he was your History teacher.

William Cavill. That was his name. Other than that, there was nothing you ever did know except for where he lived. In a basic, plain rental apartments where everyone had one gate to begin with. You've noted that in your hidden diary made just for men who'd reach the point of being stalked by yourself. The kind of level where you plan on breaking inside his house to find more information because your lack of knowledge about him was frustrating you from the start.

You would try breaking into his apartment soon enough.

His place wasn't extravagant like how you imagined him to be, owning no car as he walks home and sometimes take public vehicles to arrive in your university like a normal human.

He wasn't rich. Though, his features could mistake him as a prince. Deserving more than to live in a ramshackle apartment.

You've lost track of Mr. Cavill and his whereabouts. One minute you were just following him in discreet, and now he was nowhere to be seen after turning at a sketchy street that made your feet stop from following him.

'Am I turning into a nutjob? No. I'm doing this to know him better, know what he likes or dislikes, knowing more about him that a typical woman would do. This is for the better and he probably will like it if he knew, I need to jot down things that will make him like me,' You thought to yourself, your feet trembling with every step you took; the brisk, cold wind making it difficult for you to keep steady as you walked through the dark, strange street that your professor just walked in minutes ago.

There was finally light after walking through a dark path; feeling like it could've been a new beginning for your life if you were being metaphoric. You've seen a streetlamp beside a locked up door and a dumpster. It was the only light you could see. From your perspective, the end of the street was a dead end.

You were about to turn around, thinking that this might be a trap for being caught because your professor was no where to be seen. Up until, you've squinted your eyes at two men talking farther away from the lamp, hiding amongst the silhouette of the night sky. One voice quite foreign and the other recognizable by your ears.

The pitter-patters of your feet were stealthy, strolling closer and closer towards danger zone.

"Did the Rossi's hired you?" there was a hint of Italian from the stranger's voice, you managed to move and hide beside the huge dumpster, and it was the right hiding place because you could see and hear everything.

Everything including Mr. Cavill's features. Howbeit, without the black spectacles.

Why was he here and why is he interrogating a man? a man that also seemed familiar to you?

"You just don't know when to shut up, will you?" He curtly spat, the usual calmness whenever he talks in front of his students was now gone and replaced with a very ill-mannered tone. A tone you didn't expect to come out from him because he was pretty much a reserved and refined man.

"I am living a good life by being a professor in St. Hallmark Institute. But, you've come to try and ruin everything,"

"I've never ruined anything in the first place. It was you who made your own destiny. You've told secrets to other people that was meant to be buried deep in the ground, Henry. Finally, I found you---we were all looking for you,"

Henry? who was Henry? All you knew was that his name was 'William Cavill' and not the Henry that he was talking about.

Your hands began trembling with your back against the dumpster, eyes popping out of its eye sockets from all the scenarios happening.

The more you wait, the clamorous and intense their voices have become, "You're a Cavill, yes? I've known that unimpeachable but minatory gaze in your eyes. A family where everyone kills for a living, one of his son's best known hit man in Jersey; definitely the best out of the rest and people have been striving to find you---wanting to experience services that would definitely be worth the shot because you've struggled to learn everything---trained to become unstoppable. Although, there is one mistake that runs in the family,---" pause, "Your daddy never misses, yes?" The man dragged on and on, he was walking on a path of burning coal and fire. Hence, you were sure he was soon going to get a beating out of what gossips he was saying.

You closed your eyes, breathing quieter than normal; scared to get caught listening to their conversation. You heard a thud on the wall beside you, and it was because your professor boldly strangled the man around his neck, choking him to the point of taking his life out of it. His rage seen from how the veins on his temples were protruding and aching to burst from his anger.

Your fingers trembled from the sudden violence. Downright feeling frightened for what was going to happen with the pestilent man who wanted to get onto his wick, provoking to turn him into a savage animal who wouldn't deliberate for the kill. This man was bringing back memories that Henry wanted to avoid and forget after months of thriving.

But, it never happens because he was born to assassinate and the memories and guilt continued to haunt him forever.

"U-Until, he missed the part that your mother wasn't the target, but your weak, senile, clumsy il babbo aimed the sniper at her head," The man was trudging with fire, a fire that wouldn't be easy to kill.

You heard a cock of somebody's gun, and a deep hitch of breath from the stranger. He violently thrashed against his hold as he could see the gun tucked between the side of his pants. The barrel of the gun shiny beneath the moon light. The Italian clawed on Henry's large hand that was wrapped around his neck with a vice grip. Your professor didn't felt any remorse, nor guilt. Only amusement after trying to spur him on.

"It's quite a shame that you think of me that way," he smiled, a pure wicked beam that you haven't seen since then, cocking his head to the side as he gave him a frightening glare and a simple raise of his eyebrow, "---I'm definitely not like my father because when I hold a gun?" Mr. Cavill seethed through clenched teeth and a tight jaw, "---missing a target would be one of my greatest mistakes and I haven't had any blunders since then,"

"---I never risk to make any mistakes, Leo. I'm far different from my father. When I annihilate a target, I don't think twice and I know you've heard the gossips,"

Leonardo Bianchi desperately tried to fight off the hand that was slowly killing him. After a few more attempts, he have seen that there was no escape and that he'd click the switch inside Henry's head to become the lethal weapon that he was born to be.

The family has given him the go signal. Leonardo has only been a pawn for the family's success into whatever decision they had for the only Cavill that was left alive. But, he had hunt him down; catching the beast as to where it lived; hunting down its location. But, tonight will be the night he reaches his demise, and the man definitely knows it when he'd been given the order to stay close and find what they needed.

Leonardo was just merely their cat's paw.

He loudly laughed manically, breathing labored as the latter heaved to live for his family that was held hostage by the organization that he was in. If he wasn't alive before they get to track him down then his very own family---the real ones---will lose a father and a person who protects them from treacherous doings that he had been involved.

"I won't be the only one rotting in hell, Henry---" he deadpanned, "---you are too because revenge can be bittersweet and you're living for it,"

Mr. Cavill's smile turned upside down into a phlegmatic grimace, sliding the pistol out of his black trench coat that was tucked in between his pants before closely aiming the gun right in the middle of Leonardo's forehead, sweat began to roll down Leonardo's temples from the fear of being dead in the middle of a dead end street. Henry's eyes held no sympathy and just undying wrath for how his past was haunting him down no matter what he does. No matter what he does, they always crawl back like they have been hiding under his bed since then.

Leonardo Bianchi shut his eyes before death could even take him. He knew then and there he was going to die because whenever one does get to find the hit man that every familia wanted to get a hold to, they die in that exact day; complicating their trackers and showing them the wrong location until Henry decides to leave whatever life he created in his current one.

Though, he doubt that he'll be leaving this place for good today. Maybe, fate was about to take its turn and play the wild card.

"Let's share hell together then, il compagno."

It didn't take two seconds before you've heard the blaring sound of a gun going off; never thinking twice about pulling the trigger. He was dead, just like that; leaving his family in the past of his sins.

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

Everything was gory. The bullet punctured the wall where Leonardo's head was roughly pushed with his dreams and faith that has been crushed in just a single bullet and because of one malefactor that you didn't expect to see.

Mr. Cavill killed a man with his gun and he wasn't just any man; the Italian man was his co-worker, a fellow professor too who went with the name 'Aaron Anderson' who also hid his Italian accent with a rough southern intonation of his tongue.

He was your new Physical Education professor last week ago and now Mr. Anderson was laying on the cold, hard ground on a dead end street.

Henry slipped the gun in his trench coat for safety; audibly sighing for a sight that he never knew would happen again. However, they took three months before he was found again rather than those weeks that they've taken for him to be hunted down. He didn't need another re-location of his life in another country or place; the latter was pleased to be a professor in your university, living in a secluded and a slightly run down rental apartment which was needed for his bolthole; so he would hardly be found.

Crimson blood pooled along the ground, he crouched before Leonardo; his eyes wide opened to tell that he was fighting to live with a gun on his head. Yet, Henry apathetically stared at his pale, bloody face, showing no ounce of pity for the whole situation. He took his white handkerchief tucked in his coat pockets, expunging the blood that coated on his thick fingers before bluntly throwing it on Leonardo's face. Once his rue was clean and forgotten, he firmly stood on his feet like this has been a daily occurrence for years end.

Curiosity killed the cat and care was too obsessed over the Cheshire cat. Now, she was left to deteriorate for letting her other professor be killed by his own co-worker.

Your hands began trembling and your breath was getting the best of you. Hence, it added more panic when the rough, relaxed sounds of footfall started to echo closer and closer before it ceased before the dumps that was behind you.

A faint click of a button has been heard before hearing his low, satiny timbre of his voice nearby; feeling as if eyes were boring into your head while you have been rooted, crouching beside the dumps.

"Blind alley. East side. You know where I am because I know you track me down, Huntsman. Go check your fucking tracker---yeah, yeah. Another bullshit of a carcass. Shot in the head, mate. Got blood on my hands again---it was the first time for the last three months though,"

He sounded like he was just talking dinner with the caller on his phone. Too stolid for what he has done after the shooting. Thus, you've heard soft tapping of his foot on the ground, nearer than it ever has been.

"---I want the whole fucking alley pasteurized in less than ten minutes, got it?" he brusquely ordered around, giving a moment for the caller to finish whatever he or she was saying before you've heard Henry scoff from above your head; making you audibly hitch your breath, "---Don't act like you aren't following me around and that you live nearby,"

You were caught. The cat was captured from her sheer curiosity. Cats have seven lives based on the sayings. Nevertheless, you only had one left for tonight.

It felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown on your head. The eerie, tranquil silence for waiting whatever it is that his friend wanted to say was killing you alive. You began to breathe fast, hyperventilating in your space as your nails scratched the clothing of your knees, panic was rising through and becoming uncontrollable.

Sure, you were a stalker. But, did you deserve to die in the same place where your P.E professor has been killed? will you accept the fact that you'll be perished by the man who was worth the obsession before you knew he was a convict?

If so, then why was your core still throbbing to be caught like it was giving you thrill and excitement to be lured in?

"---Might have caught a witness this time," Henry bluntly confessed, his tone quite exuberant from the expected emotion you imagined him to be in; sounding like he caught the biggest fish in the sea as he went on to talk.

"---Don't worry. This one's mine. I'll do all the interrogating tonight,"

Then, you've heard the shuffling of his clothes, thinking that he'd tuck his phone inside his pockets before you've felt him crouch beside you; slowly and painstakingly.

Warm set of thick fingers clasped onto your fretful ones, his touch sending sparks and probably knives from how tender yet threatening it felt; like his softness had a trade of contract with the Grim Reaper because he didn't seem to be like a person whose heart was delicate, virtuous and guileless like how you've imagined him to be.

His face can trick you into imagining him to be the opposite of what he actually was. An unfortunate disguise that he had which infatuated you to the core. Literally.

He pried those hands away from fidgeting over your knee, his eyes burning you alive as it felt so heavy on the side of your face.

"You shouldn't have followed me, sweetheart."

His presence was near. Too near for you to handle the bad omen lingering around. Your heart stopped beating from the moment those thick, rough, calloused fingers reach out to lightly clasp around the width of your soft, silky neck. The loose grip more frightening than to receive a rougher one because it was giving you mixed signals that you've hit a nerve and your death was just being postponed for minutes.

You've unconsciously swallowed, "You've seen the murder. I know you were a smart one no matter how you were always misbehaving---but, this time; you behaved like the good girl that your parents have always believed in," Henry whispered in your ear; his fiery, hot breath fanning the side of your face in ways that got your heart pounding in such crazy exhilaration. Shivers began to shake your spine, leaving you scared and thrilled for your life.

His thumb grazed along the edge of your jaw, your primal focus on his hand ghosting over your neck like he was planning to choke you alive. Henry could have it, he could do just that with how you've easily submitted to the murderer of your night.

Those cobalt eyes were cryptic. An enigma that kept you insane and wanting for more because of how secretive he was that got you following him around. But, you obviously couldn't deny the tremor of being caught by the man himself.

Your professor forcefully turned your head to look straight into his face. Thus, there you notice splotches of blood has painted his face; such perfect canvas that has been ruined by the blood of the person's life that he has taken. Henry was almost perfect, too perfect that it leaves you thoroughly intrigued for what flaw he had because you knew, deep down; there was something more.

His nose nuzzled upon yours, the dimples of his nose slightly grazing as he lowly seethed with spite and utter sophistication, "If you were any normal person, you should have left me alone since the last two weeks,"

He knew.

Mr. Cavill knows he was being followed by you and nothing was more frightening than a smirking devil who hid behind a picturesque face that would make you kneel before him like his Acolyte. Though, you were just thinking about it that you haven't even realized you were already glorifying him before you even know it.

His breath met your mouth. Your veins were flowing faster than it ever does before, much more than your orgasms could ever take. You lightly scoffed, sounding a little more shakier than how you imagined it to be, worried about everything you've done for the last two weeks. Your actions thoroughly inconspicuous.

The stalker title taken seriously like you have done it for a long time.

"But, I'm far from sane, Sir."

You knew you were. Saying it out loud was so bold in your part. But, if you were being honest it felt like this whole shaken girl that he was seeing has just been all an act that you wanted to manipulate.

Manipulation was just the icing on the cake because you could do more than that for the man you love. The facade that everyone sees was just merely a veil that came with your fancy dress, drinking wine as you let all the plans go through your head that was written inside your secret diary that was buried under the Sycamore tree that your mother loves to disregard because of how high maintenance it was, close to reaching its death as you noticed the leaves falling every day like bad-omen was coming. Hence, she didn't like how ghastly it appeared to be like; making it a better spot for your secrets to be kept under the pile of shattered dreams and bones.

If your mother wouldn't love the horrible ones, then you were willing to appreciate its natural beauty despite of how hideous it was for everyone.

Once you love someone or something, you never let it go that easily; reaching to the level that you would do everything in your will power to get and have what you want.

Henry's grip tightened in a way that got you grinning like a Cheshire cat, he was playing a game where he was trying to let you run for the hills. Mr. Cavill was mindlessly telling you that your life wasn't useful nor significant to him; though, you knew he didn't have it in him to place the gun on your temples because if he did then you should've been dead right now.

Deep within the waves of his ocean, you've seen something valuable that can be useful for you. Your lips curled wider as you've read his eyes that secretly tells you that he was more than interested for the poker game because of the cards he set beneath his palms; confidently assured that he would win.

He had a three of a kind.

But, you hold out a straight flush.

"---I doubt you're sane for stalking me around like it is a normal thing for a student like you,"

You quietly giggled beneath being dominated within his reach. Your tongue slipped out of your mouth, the wet muscle sticking out to lick the cupid's bow of his lips which made your crime-filled professor growl from the sudden action. He harshly huffed out of his mouth, giving you a menacing flicker of his Cobalt eyes which made you laugh out louder as the pungent, metallic scent of blood wafted through both of your noses.

Tag, he was it.

Now, you had more reasons to pry into his life more than how you were invited. Howbeit, Invitations weren't needed because your strong determination was enough to trespass into his dangerous world.

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED, BB! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag the user. Please do check your settings, dollies!) PLEASE DO REBLOG! 🥰

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henryobsessed · 4 years

Text

I Took You Home - A Night on the Town

Summary: Henry takes Reba for a night on the town.

Word Count : 4381

Warning: Fluff

A/N Disclaimer I don’t live in England, visited once when I was 12 so all depictions in this chapter are thanks to google. If you read something that does not ring true please let me know so I can correct it :)

Thanks for the continued support I love tell stories and interacting with people about them.

Previous Chapter 6

Reba stood looking at Henry, chuckling nervously as the look on his face could only be described as lusty. "Henry?" he shook his head in the affirmative and smiled that easy smile that made her stomach flutter. Pulling the door closed behind her they turned and walked towards the elevator, neither risking making a move. The silence was painful as they waited to reach ground level, it had only been a week and they had been texting but there was a hesitancy now between them. Reba wondered if it was because they were now both aware, aware of who they both were to each other for Reba he was her Charles Brandon and for Henry she was his Thomas Magi. Both stayed silent until they were seated in his town car.

The sound of fingers tapping pulled Reba from her own nervousness, noticing Henrys twitching leg and rapid drumming of his fingers she laughed. His head jerked to her a questioning look on his face as his low gruff voice said, "What's funny?" Continuing her chuckle, she deliberately moved closer to Henry and placed a hand on his knee. "We are, Last week we were strangers and think of what we did. Now we know each other a little and were acting like it’s out first time together." His knee felt good under her hand and as if the touch broke the ice Henry sighed. Lifting his arm into the familiar invitation Reba sort out his warmth against his side. His low chuckle echoed in the car as he said, "Your right, sorry I had just build up tonight so much in my mind over this week that I over thought it and it made me anxious"

Now she was relaxed as her body connected with his, Reba could also acknowledge that same feeling. The butterfly's as she had been getting ready were a new experience for her. She never put herself into a situation other than releasing her books that allowed her to feel such vulnerabilities. Since last week she had now been forced essentially to feel out of control. In some ways she hated it, but in other ways she would never take it back, as she had been treated to other amazing sensations because of it. She sighed then spoke with courage "Mmmmm, so we can both admit to feeling nervous." contented now in his arms she broached the question that had her most uncomfortable. "Can you tell me where we are going tonight? That might help me feel more secure" this was a big part of her anxiousness. She liked to know where she was going, and a way to get home if things went pear shaped.

She listened to Henry's breathing and then he spoke with understanding, "I can hear that you really don't like being out of control. Does it cause you anxiety not know where we are going? I would like to just take you on a journey of some special places here in London but if you need I can give you the itinerary" she could not feel or hear any disappointment in his body language just a acceptance. This helped Reba to relax even more, maybe a surprise journey, just living in the moment would do her the world of good. She looked up at his face his kind eyes studying her waiting for her answer. Deciding to show him how much she was putting her trust in him she leant up and kissed him on the lips. She could tell she had surprised him as he stiffened for just a moment. Then responded to her, pulling her tighter against him as they deepened the kiss. As she pulled back for air she smiled at his soft features and said "Ok, I trust you lets go on a journey"

She loved the next sound that came out of his lips a genuine happy whisper "Ohh boy". She snuggled down in his arms enjoying the feeling of strength surrounding her as she watched the night sky through the car window, the stars twinkled whilst they sped to their first destination.

As the car slowed with traffic, she felt Henry's chest expand as he took a deep breath in a clear sign he had something important to say, "Reba, I attract a lot of attention when in public. I'm going to wear a Cap and glasses to blend in a bit more, but can you do me a favour and call me Charles? It might just give enough of a distraction that no one will notice us." Realising that this was one of the harder parts of being an actor and one that her pseudonym helped protect her from she answered with a giggle, "I guess that will be fine Charles as my phone does light up with your name, it should not be such a hard shift" she lent up and kissed him again a soft one this time.

It wasn't long before the car slowed down and stopped. Reba sat up as Henry's door was opened by the driver, he stepped out and then looked back holding his hand out to her with a smile "My lady" giggling Reba took his hand and exited the car.

Reba had not done any sightseeing adventures in London other than visiting the pub every Wednesday and that fated Saturday. However, the sight before her she knew well. In school when they had talked about London in sociology and history, they had mentioned the palace, the Themes, and Trafalgar Square which is what she was now looking at. It looked more beautiful in person than the pictures she had seen especially as she was seeing it at night. Henry moved behind her wrapping his arms around her as she stared at the fountains. She relaxed in his arms and sighed "this is beautiful Charles. The way the light catches the water and shimmers across the fountains. The pictures don't do it justice" His head resting on the top of her shoulder he said softly into her ear "That sounded good hearing you call me Charles" For such a warm night Reba felt tingles run down her spine as his breath tickled her ear.

Reba moaned softly scolding Henry with a light voice "If you continue to do that Charles, I won’t be able to continue this journey without a lot of discomfort" she heard and felt his chuckle next to her ear. "Maybe that was my intention" that elicited another shiver as she stepped forward away from his body, holding his hand she moved to look more closely at the fountain, Henry following in tow. She was feeling a little overwhelmed at how he was making her body feel especially as they were in public. The square had people milling about taking photos, groups heading to different food venues in the area and just general Friday evening fun. Still right now all she could feel was him, smell him, her stomach had those butterflies back again so deciding to distract herself she made them walk around.

They looked at the statues for a while Reba getting lost in the intricacies of the lions. They were beautifully carved; it was while she was staring into the eyes of one that her stomach made a loud growl. Laughing Henry looked at this watch and said "I think the lion in your stomach would be better sated if we head to our next destination" He put his arm around her waste and started them walking away from the square. It wasn't a hurried walk but a comfortable one arm in arm, contented, as he lead her away from the busy street to a narrower one. It was still busy with foot traffic as people hurried to the evening's entertainment. Reba looked at the stores and shops that lines the street, they looked old, full of history and charm. It was outside of one of these shops that Henry stopped. It was a brown unimpressive exterior called Gordon's wine bar. "This is it" he said as he lead her into the side door, the front did not prepare Reba for the wonderful sight she was to encounter as the smells of oak wood, Food and Wine assaulted her senses.

Henry wanted to pick her up and kiss her soundly, the look on Reba's face as they entered the Wine bar was priceless. Her eyes big and round, her pink lips shaped in an open awe. Her reaction was more than he could have hoped for when he chose Gordon's wine bar. Seeing the waiter coming towards them he guided her forward, "Good evening, table for two? And would you like garden or inside?" Henry answered quickly "Inside thank you" Reba looked up at him a slight frown on her face but she didn't voice her thoughts. Henry held back a chuckle he knew what she was soon to experience, yes it was warm but it would be worth it.

They were led to their table, he looked at Reba. Her face held pure amazement, now he did chuckle out loud. They were sitting in a cave like cellar, lit with twinkling lights and candles. "I know it would have been nice in the garden, but I wanted you to experience this" She let a breath out, as her gaze left the room and landed back to him. She smiled a soft smile that made his heart beat that bit faster "this is beautiful Charles" she breathed as she turned to look again at the cavern that they were now seated in.

He smiled as the waitress came forward to get their order "Reba do you mind if I order for us, they have a beautiful Italian platter for two here." He watched her face to make sure he wasn't over stepping but he was instead rewarded with a bigger smile "I love Italian that sounds great". Henry ordered the platter along with the suggested pairing of wine from the waitress. Turning back to Reba he could see she was still enamored with this cellar, he just watched her fascinated until she returned her gaze to his. He chuckled as the now familiar blush crept up her face, she was so easy to fluster, deciding to rescue her he remembered a something about this cellar that would be interesting to her, "So, fun fact this place has had many owners but one in particular would be of interest to you. In 1536 it was owned by Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk." He laughed as he watched her react again. She was so expressive her eyebrow's were raised, her pink lips open again in surprise. Once she recovered she chuckled "Wow, its kind of impressive being able to be in places where my favorite character lived."

They talked about the weather for a bit, Reba expressing how happy she was that her characters had started talking again, Henry pleased that his project was back on track. Then they fell into a silence, both in thought when the food arrived. They both took their first bite of the Taleggio, Henry almost dropped his fork at the sound Reba emitted, he was sure due to her inexperience that it was an innocent sound but it caused his groin to stir.

She moaned again looking directly at Henry causing him to blush and more blood rushed to his groin. "This is so good Henry, I've never tasted this kind of cheese before." She smiled at him such an innocent smile. Dam I guess the tables have turned, his earlier attempts to arouse her had flipped. Trying to gather his thoughts and miss direct his growing problem he asked " So I know that your parents are Reba Fan's and I loved the description of them dancing in the living room. Can you tell me how you started writing?"

He watched as her face, became stressed taught, as she stared into the candle on their table. Guessing that it was a hard question he offered "It's ok if you don't want to talk about it, I guess its one of the first things people ask me when I'm in an interview. I can tell you mine while you think about it?" she smiled at him relief washing through her eyes as she whispered "Yes please".

Thinking for a moment and seeing that her face was open and interested Henry began " Well, I went to boarding school as a kid, I didn't have a lot of mates so I spent a lot of time alone. It was ok, I actually didn't mind being on the outside. It gave me a different perspective, I could watch people and see how they behaved. I started getting involved with the drama group and found I really liked playing a part that wasn't me. One day we had a film come to use our school and Russell Crowe was acting in it. I was playing rugby at the time, when we were finished, I saw him and decided to ask him about acting as a career.

He was cool about it and even told me some real truths about how no one was going to give it to me, that I had to work hard for it. We talked a bit more until everyone else came up, so I stepped away. A few days later I got a gift basket from him, It, was unexpected with some stuff from His Rugby club and Australian food. But the thing that stuck with me was a photograph, written on it was "A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." So, I did I worked hard, got rejected a lot. Did some good tv like the Tutors but was mostly labelled as the unlucky actor as I came second on the James bond movie, and Superman returns. I just kept working hard, training hard and then along came Superman. That was when I went from an unknown actor to can't go out in public without a lot of thought and planning"

The whole time he was talking he was taking notice, watching the interest in her eyes the way her they never left his. She wasn't just letting him talk she was engaging with him as she responded "So, you learned to cope being not as outgoing or popular at school by becoming someone else?" he chuckled "I guess you can say that, I think a lot of Actors are like that. They find an outlet for their own preserved weakness by playing someone else."

She nodded in agreement "I think it's the same for writers, we use writing to make a statement or to live a life we might not have or to work through the pain of what we have experienced. I started writing in high school after a traumatic event. I'm not sure I can talk about it yet with you but maybe one day. It's one of the reasons you are the second male I've been intimate with. It made me seek control of my life and so I disappeared into writing. There I can control the environment, the people and the situations even if it's a bad situation I know the outcome so it’s still controlled."

His heart broke listening to the pain she was describing, unable to fully understand but still seeing the effect that the situation had been on her life. She chuckled softly then said "In fact you're the first person I've let myself be out of control with. I hope you can now see how much trust I've placed in your hands" Henry swallowed at this comment, that was a lot of responsibility she had laid on the table. There was a slight moment of panic that hit his stomach, what if he hurt her, what if he did something even without his knowledge that would cause her pain. He shut his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them her saw a hesitancy on her face.

"Sorry, that was a bit much wasn't it" she mumbled and started to fidget with her napkin. A feeling of wanting to protect her, to wrap her up in his arms and sooth the fear that he could see now creeping into her eyes overwhelmed him. He hadn't felt this way since, well he couldn't remember the last time. Shifting his seat so it was next to hers rather that opposite he put his arm across her shoulders.

He breathed softly as he whispered "Maybe for the first real date, but it’s in keeping with our coming together. Caring for a drunk stranger, spending the weekend with said stranger. I guess this is all unusual, but I am glad you told me. It helps me to know what is ok and what I need to tread carefully with. If I wasn't your biggest fan, if we didn't have this connection that makes me want to sooth your hurts away. It might have been too much. Instead I just want to give you a kiss, is that ok?" Her eyes glistened as Henry spoke, and she leaned into him allowing him to kiss her softly. Looking down at his watch and seeing the time he changed tactics. I would like to revisit this but if we don't leave now we will miss the next part of this evenings journey. She looked dazed until it registered what he was saying, snapping out of her mood she chuckled and nodded. He raised his hand calling for the waitress and asked for the bill.

Reba was exhilarated, the mood from their last conversation was overshadowed by the colourful lights and sound of the musical theatre show Six. Henry had walked her the 10 minutes to Theatreland and now they were seated in the middle row enjoying the modern pop music depicting the six wives of Henry the 8th. He was so sweet Reba thought looking over at his face. She could see the colours dancing off his stubbled jaw and shinning in his eyes. How thoughtful to make tonight all about the Tudors? She felt Henry's knee rubbing against hers, as his long legs bounced up and down in time to the music as the women on stage yelled out "Divorced, beheaded, divorced, died, beheaded, survived."

As the show progressed, she got lost in the new retelling of Henry the 8th wives. At one point she felt Henry place his hand on hers, his fingers caressing her hand, it was gentle and maybe an encouragement that all was ok.

Arm in arm again they walked out of the theatre "So what did you think?" Henry's deep voice asked as they headed out "I loved the energy, and the vocal performance was wonderful" Reba answered as she spotted the town car that was waiting for them. It was only 9:20pm but the noise and crowds of the theatre had exhausted her, the driver held the door open for Reba and Henry as they got inside.

The door shut and Reba needing to feel secure burrowed into Henry's side his arm moving to pull her into his chest. She felt the rumble of his voice as he asked, "Are you ok?" She hummed her hand resting on his thigh, "Yes but the crowds really took it out of me. Is it ok if we just go home and enjoy the rest of the night in the quiet?" He chuckled, lightly running his hand through her hair, "you took the words right out of my mouth. Do you mind however if we go back to my place? I have a special friend I would like you to meet" the last word she muttered before letting sleep overtake her was ok.

Reba was sitting in a garden, sounded by the most colourful flowers. In front of her was a little boy who would have been 8 months old, gingerly siting up on the picnic blanket they were sharing. His face was round and chubby and his startling blue eyes were sparkling with mirth as he giggled. She picked him up and his little hand reached out and grazed her cheek. "Reba, honey its time to wake up" she startled awake as Henry's hand brushed her cheek. "Where here" he said his sweet smile and gentle blue eyes coaxed her awake.

It took her a moment to take in her surrounding, the warm interior light of the car and the driver waiting by the door. The dream had been so real that this looked like a dream. Tucking the images in her heart she looked at Henry and gave a coy smile "Sorry" he chuckled at her as his warm hand helped her from the car.

She felt his warmth around her waist as he walked her up to his front door. Before he opened the door he looked at her and with a slight frown said "I didn't ask, are you ok with dogs?" she had grown up around dogs, little ones, big ones they hadn't phased her but it had been a long time since then. "I did when I was younger but it’s been awhile" humming to himself Henry turned the key and opened the door.

The place was beautifully decorated, walls were adorned with bookcases filled with many titles and pictures of his family. He led her into a living room and instructed her to sit before disappearing to another part of the house.

She sat there still sleep dazed the images of the little boy danced before her unable to shake his beautiful blue eyes. Then she heard the sound of an excited puppy dog greeting its master. She smiled, it sounded so happy. Henry's sure footsteps and the padded paws echoed from somewhere in the house as they got closer to the room.

Henry walked around to her with a beautiful dog on his lead. At Henry's command he sat looking at Reba eyeing the stranger that its master had bought home. "Reba I would like to introduce you to Kal, Kal this is Reba" feeling more awake and seeing in the look of pride on Henry's face how much this bear of a Dog meant to him she made a move.

Getting down on her knees on the rug they were now standing on she put her hand out and allowed Kal to sniff her. Then slowly the dog moved towards her and sniffed her arm as she whispered is a warm voice "Hi kal, aren't you a beautiful boy"

At the sound of her voice Kal's tail began to wag and he laid down, his head on her lap staring up at her. Reba scratched him behind his ear as she spoke to Henry not taking her eyes of the Black and white dog before her. "He's wonderful Henry, so gentle and kind" their was only silence as a response prompting her to look up to see a stunned Henry looking down at the pair. "Henry?" He shifted his gaze to hers as he snapped out of his shock "He's never done that before" he sat down next to her as she continued to massage Kal's head. "He mean's a lot to you doesn't he" she stated gagging his reaction. "Yes, he has been a true companion. He travels with me if he's allowed and stays with me in the trailers and hotels. He doesn't demand more than food, walks and cuddles. When it got really bad awhile ago he was my savior."

The soft look that crossed his face was so endearing to Reba it compelled her to reach up running her hand across his cheek. They locked eyes his asking silently for permission all she had to do was slowly blink before Henry lowered his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

It was a delightfully slow kiss his tongue caressing her lower lip seeking entrance as she opened and allowed him to explore her mouth. This wasn't to hurried like the passionate kiss from the car at the beginning of the night, this was a gentle deep caress displaying to her his care. A wet nose nudged Reba's hand demanding that she resume her head scratching that had stopped. This caused her to chuckle into the kiss breaking the intimate moment. "I think Kal's jealous Henry" Reba whispered, as Henry looked down at his dog with a frown saying, "Hey buddy your meant to help me not hinder me".

Reba laughed at this comment a light full laugh that made Henry smile too. Feeling very comfortable on the floor but sensing she needed to find his bathroom soon she got up and asked "So where in this beautiful house can I go powder my nose?" she was pointed down the hall as Henry also rose "Whilst your doing that do you want a hot drink? Or a cold one?" he said, she thought for a moment and whilst moving in the direction he had pointed out said "A hot tea would be good if you have any, herbal or just some hot water if you don't" she smiled at him before disappearing into the guest bath and loo.

They spent the evening on the couch snuggled into each other talking, before long she knew she would fall asleep. He seemed to notice this too and surprising her lifted her up in his arms, once over the surprise she snuggled into his warmth as he walked her down towards his bedroom. Placing her on the bed he walked to his closet and found an old t shirt and handed it to her. She looked up at him in thanks as she tried to feel for the zipper at the back of her dress.

A warm hand found it instead as he whispered "Let me help you with that" the feel of his hand grazing her back as he helped her remove her dress sent shivers up her spine. She turned to look up at him desire shinning in his eyes as she lent up and kissed his soft lips. The dress discarded on the ground his warm hands now engulfing her body as the emotion of the evening spilled into their kiss.

Next Chapter 8

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minervacasterly · 4 years

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The Thistle and the Rose 🌹

The English Rose:

Through the Margaret we are all acquainted with is a plump, tired one, in her youth she was fairly attractive and when she met James, they had four days of celebration before the formal wedding took place. Margaret has been judged unfairly by historians as lusty and tempestuous but in truth she was doing what she thought best for her country. Her union with Angus was a marriage of convenience, she believed she could persuade the council in spite of the restriction her late husband had put in place that forbid her to marry, to let her reign in peace with a powerful faction like the Douglas clans backing her up. This backfired and she was forced to give up her regency a month later.

The Thistle:

I was very surprised to find that he was an expert at almost everything Margaret's brother was and would have put Henry VIII to shame. He was an expert at needlework, good soldier and he was interested in rebuilding his country's navy and was one of the first to put Scotland on equal footing with all the other great powers in Europe.

#stuart history #tudor history #margaret tudor #james iv of scotland #dailytudors

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years

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A Forest Interlude Chapter 24 - The Missing Bride

Summary: Eleonore (OFC) discovers a wounded man in the woods near her home and seeks to heal him. Little does she know that it is none other than the heir to the throne, Prince Hal of England.

Chapter: 24 of 28

Rated E

Warnings: smut, sex fluff, angst, oral sex, fingering, hand jobs

(spoiler - don’t worry, it will all work out okay in the end)

In this chapter: Hal confronts his past behavior with Poins, and discovers the abduction of his darling wife.

Read the entire story on AO3

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If he clenched his jaw any harder Hal was convinced all of his teeth would break. This was not at all how he had anticipated the afternoon proceeding. The warm bath that he had so looked forward to sharing with his eager wife was bordering on cold, and instead of her soft moans his ears were being assaulted with a steady string of mindless prattle from Ned Poins.

Ned, who was by some reckoning his closest companion. Who definitely was the his most frequent co-conspirator and partner in crime. How that had come to be the case, Hal was having a difficult time remembering now, for he found the steady stream of malicious gossip and cruel innuendo falling from the other man's lips grating to him. A month or two ago Hal would have been laughing at his latest conquest of some poor, unsuspecting baker's wife. Ned had managed to convince the woman that he wanted to run away with her in order to bed her, only to deny any such plans when her husband caught them, mid tryst. Now, Hal merely felt sorry for the poor woman. Her life had been ruined simply because she had a nice pair of breasts that had managed to catch the wandering eye of a bored noble.

A blessed silence stretched as Hal quickly washed himself, regretting it was not Nell's hands wandering over his body, all soapy and searching. He gave a soft sigh at the thought, his cock half heartedly twitching, and was met with a snort of derision. Looking up, he saw Ned was staring at him with shuttered, cynical eyes.

"I'll give you this, your wife's a pretty piece," Poins said, a twist of his lips substituting for a smile, "though not, for me, enough to risk a ring. Was wedding her in truth the only way that she would open up her legs to you? If so, I hope the prize was worth the price, for to my mind she's a controlling wench."

"I'll tell you once the same I told the king," Hal said, rising from the tub, naked and dripping, and crossing to tower over his friend in anger, "I will not hear a word against her Ned. Nell is my wife, and I do love her well. You would be wise to bear that thought in mind, or this my first will see to it you learn."

"A thousand pardons Hal, I meant no harm!" Ned replied quickly, raising both hands in defense and stepping back. "I see you are much taken with her now. Though I profess to hear you speak of love, and have the words be so sincerely meant, doth hardly reconcile with my old friend."

"I do suppose you have some cause in that," Hal was forced to admit, as he snatched up a bath sheet and began toweling himself dry. "When I think now of what my life hath been, and how I so mistreated the fair sex, I do begin to almost hate myself."

"Mistreat them? Hal, I hardly would say that!" Ned laughed. "For I was near at hand as oft as not, and from the sounds you brought forth out of them, those ladies that you tumbled for a night had nothing to complain of in your bed!"

Hal cursed himself for thinking that Ned would understand what he was saying. He did not mean that he had hurt the women, heaven forbid! Nor even that he had not done his best to make sure that they came away from the encounter thoroughly satisfied. It was just that he had never given a one of them any thought once the random coupling had ended. He had never wondered if they pined for him, or if he was getting in the way of a relationship that might bring them more joy in the long term. Short of doing his best to ensure that their were no royal bastards to follow him about, he had taken his pleasure without any further worry.

"I hope that you are right, but who can say?" was all he answered now, knowing it was useless to share his thoughts with the other.

"Well, I am going now to Jocelyn's," Ned said, laying back on Hal's bed with a groan. "Her babe at last is weaned, so now's my chance. Perhaps I'll ask her for you, if you like, if she did feel disgraced by your hand."

Apparently Ned thought this a capital joke from the way he laughed. Hal managed a grimace that passed for a smile and began dressing absentmindedly. Jocelyn was a lusty woman, and ran a thriving brothel. She was not the type that Hal had been worrying over hurting. All the same, he wished Ned would show her some respect.

"No doubt you will have other things to say," Hal suggested with a raised eyebrow, "and will not need to fall back on my name."

"Oh I do not plan to say much at all! My mouth shall be much happier employed. But come, shall you go with me good sweet prince? I hear she has a new girl in her house, a redhead with an ardency to match. I'm sure the girl would count it quite a coup if she could snare a prince into her bed."

"I have no need for whores, I thank you Ned. I am, if you recall, a man now wed."

"Well yes, I know that you did take a wife," Ned looked at him in almost comical alarm, "but surely that need not affect you much. Nell need not know whereto we two are bound, tis not like she will hear it from your whore! And I should think she may think it relief that she must not see to your needs today."

"You do not mark me, so I'll say it plain. There will from now be no more whores for me. I fear you must seek for another man to bear you company in your pursuits."

"But Hal, you must be playing at some jest - you surely do not mean you plan to be a faithful husband to your loving wife?"

"Yet that is just exactly what I mean," he nodded. "Now that the gods have granted me my heart, I would not put such happiness at risk by wasting of my time with random whores or ladies who would cast themselves at me. I want but one fair damsel in my bed, and much to my eternal wonderment, that woman is none other than my wife."

Ned stared at him in stunned disbelief. Hal knew that he deserved no less, and once more felt his shame rise. He could not truly fault Poins. Even discounting Hal's reputation as a rake, very few men of his rank were completely faithful to their wives. He supposed it came with the territory when most marriages were arranged more for money and alliances than for affection. He was a man most blessed that his life's companion was the owner of his very soul.

"My lord, my lord! I must see you at once!" Cecil demanded, barging into the room in a most undignified fashion quite at odds with his usual reserved bearing.

"What is it man? Here, sit and catch you breath," he instructed as his man doubled over and wheezed.

"There is no time, her Highness, Princess Nell..." Cecil gasped out, causing Hal's heart to stop beating.

"What Nell? Why what is wrong? Sir, speak to me!" he demanded, fear like a cold finger on his spine. "Is it the babe? Has she come to some harm?"

"No, no my prince, tis not as bad as that," Cecil hastened to assure him. "A troop of guard appeared here at our gate, and did insist that she should go with them!"

"What, take her from her home? I'll kill them all! Where were our own men that they stopped them not?"

"Your grace, she went with them of her own will, for they were dressed in colors of the king, and his own sigil did bedeck their breasts! Only the gateman knew what did occur until she had acceded to their will. Poor lad, he is beside himself in fear that he did put her life somehow at risk."

Hal began littering the air with every curse he knew. There had been no direct word from his father since their frightful encounter on his wedding day, and the lack of condemnation had lulled him into a false sense of security. It had never occurred to him that Henry would do something so extreme as to send armed guards to abduct Nell from their home! What could he possibly hope to gain by doing any such thing?

"Have Strumpet saddled for me straight away," he commanded Cecil, pulling his boots on as he spoke. "I ride at once to see our revered king. I hope he has some reason for this act, as patricide is still a grievous sin. But if he has caused any harm to her, I will not answer for my own reply."

"Your horse is waiting for you in the yard. It was not hard to think what you would do."

"I thank you, Cecil. Ned, I bid you well. You must excuse me, for I now depart."

"I would not think to keep you from your bride," Ned said with an odd voice Hal could not quite place, but thought might contain humor. He supposed seeing him cast as the avenging husband might seem humorous to someone else. To himself it was deadly serious.

Cecil was as good as his word, and Hal's favorite horse was saddled and waiting for him. It took him very little time to ride to the palace. Even were he not known on sight through most of London, one look at his furious face was enough to clear all out of his path. When he arrived at the castle, he threw his reins to a random groom and stormed inside, beating a path for the presence chamber. Not waiting to be announced, he thrust open the doors and barged inside.

"Where is she sir, for I will have her back!" he hurled the words at the old man sitting on the throne like a spear.

Henry, who until that moment had been in deep conversation with his master of coin, started in his seat as though a dragon had burst into his throne room, and indeed Hal looked like one. When he realized the accosting person was in fact his eldest son, his face turned red and his eyes lit with rage. Still, his voice was clam and cutting as he addressed Hal.

"You should be whipped for lack of manners, boy. Do you not know to whom it is you speak? How dare you come before us in such state, and so abuse our royal presence thus?"

"Forgive me if I do not curtsey, sir," Hal sneered, as the gathered court looked on in shock. "Perhaps if you had not kidnapped my wife I might have time for courtliness and grace."

"Has all the sac you drink gone to your brain?" his father demanded, glaring at him. "Why, tell me boy, would I abduct your wife?"

"Why that you must tell me, for I know not!"

"And do you see her here, you foolish sot? I have not set my eyes upon the girl since I did see you both the day you wed."

"Is this the truth? You did not send for her?"

"I have no need to lie to you, you wretch! In truth I have done all that I could do to put the two of you far from my mind!"

"Then this is even worse than I did fear!"

Hal was completely lost now. When he thought that his father had taken Nell, he had feared for their future, but never for her physical safety. Say what you would about Henry, and Hal had, but he was not a threat to women. The worst he had imagined was that his father intended to ship her off to a convent and dissolve their union. If it was someone else... the possibilities were as dark as they were endless.

"What put it in your head that I had her?" Henry's voice sounded begrudgingly concerned.

"The gateman said that guards did come for her, dressed in the livery of your own house."

"Flat lies, and that you can see for yourself! Why, you have known Renaldo all your life and here he stands as he has done all day. If I had sent my men on such a task as would require discretion in to be done, as to abduct my son's wife from their home, think you I would entrust it not to him?"

Hal had to admit his father had a point. Renaldo had been with them since Hal was a boy, as faithful to Henry as he was circumspect. His father was far too fussy to allow such an act as Hal was accusing him of to be done in a way to cause talk among the public. If he had sent for Nell, it would have been Renaldo that retrieved her.

Hal's mind spun. It made no sense. Who would want to take Nell? Could it be Northumberland, angry at the cancelled wedding? Or perhaps the Earl of Kent who he had provoked at the market? He could not think clearly, not when the dearest person on the globe was in such peril.

"But said your man that they were dressed as us?" Renaldo asked now, voice sounding almost concerned as he looked at Hal with searching eyes. "What men would have free access to our garb? My men are quartered close unto the king, and only one admitted to those rooms could hope to take one jerkin, far less six"

Six. They had been dressed in uniforms of Henry's household. And their had been six of them. Slowly, Hal lowered his head into his hands and laughed an almost unhinged laugh.

"I am as foolish, Sire, as you think," he said, shaking his head. "I pray you all, forget this freakish start. I did not mean to so disrupt your day. I'll leave you now and cause no more discord."

"I am, I think, an explanation owed," Henry said in a wry voice. "You do, I take it, know who has your wife?"

"I do believe I do, and if I'm right, they shall regret the day they hatched their plan."

"Renaldo then shall go along with you," Henry surprised Hal by saying. "She is, for now, a member of my house, and as such we cannot allow insult. When you have her extracted from this mess, I will expect you all to return here. I have some words which I would say to thee."

Hal did not miss the formal tone on the end of his father's decree, but for now he had more important matters to attend to. The pieces had fallen into place, and he was reasonably certain that he knew just where he would find Nell. Heaven help the men when he got there.

#the hollow crown #the hollow crown fic #Henry V #Prince Hal #Prince Hal/OFC #Romance #Historical Romance #Historical AU #Tom Hiddleston #Smut #fluff #angst #royal families #forbidden marriage #love #true love wins

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