#Henry x reader

[delicrieux]

. . . l'oeuf

˙⋆✮ summary. just another evening at henry's.

pairing. henry winter x f!reader warnings. smoking, swearing, mentioned drug use, bad aspirin use specifically, use of alcohol, +18 (p n v sex, no condom henry DOES NOT care, very minimal dirty talk), pretentiousness, an inkling of classicism, bunny™ wc. 6.9k ✧˖°.

author's note. happy october everyone ! i always wanted to write smth for the loml henry winter but i never had the patience to sit down and do it. well, now i did. this was written with prompt 1. thick, acrid smoke. feel free to rqs more for the prompty thingies! x . . . side note! the fic is named by this song since i listened to it while writing. you can draw a metaphor from it if willing

creds. hd., div.

mlist | buy me coffee ♡ྀ

it was at the start of october on that fateful senior year that you had found yourself in henry winter's illustrious townhouse. from the lacquered brazillian hardwood floorboards to the ivory plasterwork on the ceilings – every corner pertained a certain degree of finery that reflected poorly on the rest of its objects: a well-worn armchair perpetually stuck in henry’s physique and fraying at the edges, the trampled rug that snaked upstairs and held all of your secrets, the coffee table with too many wine stains. in the dim light, the dried rorschach looked like blood.

the present company consisted of six and was slowly dwindling. your dear friend francis, the only boy who had never cared to peek up your skirt in childhood tennis practice, was a moment from collapsing into himself like a weary, old star. holding a champagne coupe from which he exclusively drunk only campari, he had thrown himself over henry’s couch not unlike a discontent lead from a penny dreadful novel. his face kept twisting according to the sounds: bunny’s voice was met with pursed lips and a tightly shut eye (only one, closest to bunny’s person sat by the aforementioned coffee table), charles’ – with a look of defeated boredom, and in the odd bouts of silence and music, bliss.

you offered him a cigarette, and he barely managed to crane his neck to kiss the knuckles of a helping hand before he snatched it away and searched his pockets for a lighter.

sweet camilla sat by the fire, with her knees drawn to her chest. one black stocking was torn on the side, rippling up her calf and sneaking into her inner knee, an action bunny had noted and all had taken particular interest in. there had been a metaphor about literature resembling her glossy stockings – all that language and reference weaved into a fabric that stretched till it could no more, thus marking the end of innovation and intertextuality. a book can only fit so much, and as all of them cared for ancient greek only – a language that no one spoke, and so, could never refine past its perfect state – the topic soon waned in favor of more brandy.

bunny cowed a story about richard papen, the outsider that had joined their coterie, who was not present, as he had not been invited. he was a fine orator, had a specific sense of humor that, while not always understood, could charm an audience when fidgeted with enough. only bunny was too drunk, and his glass of whiskey kept spilling on his trousers till it left an undignified blotch crowned by cigarette ashes, which only painted him a blubbering buffoon. ‘the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool,’ came to mind as you admired the embers dancing in the halo of his blond hair.

then, there was charles, drunk as always, who had opted to lay by camilla’s feet, the place where bunny’s drunken attempts of metaphor had landed him.

lastly, there was henry, your own personal virgil, who had not wanted you to come, but allowed it still. he looked tired from across the room, an arm thrown over the cushions of the armchair in which he sat. in his left hand he held a book, a cover and a title too out of frame for your eyes to see; amber reflected in his wiry glasses, the color of his brandy bottle (half empty) before the orange glow of the fire burned it copper. a plume of cigarette smoke curled into the ceiling from his two fingers. only he could have full concentration among the chaotic symphony in the living room.

the record spun to silence, and you quickly abated your seat on the windowsill to pad to the cabinet and change the vinyl. the collection of classics had not increased since your last visit, which was roughly a week ago, and it had not changed since henry moved out the dorms during the winter of your junior year. there were chopin’s nocturnes and etudes, beethoven’s piano sonatas, and wagner’s tristan and isolda, just to name a few. something lulling, quiet. you picked debussy and placed the needle. lilting, soft and steady, like you supposed love would feel.

instantly, you were met with bunny’s ire.

“no, no,” a wave and a body too weak to stop you. you ensured he was gifted your most sly smile, “no, woman, put on somethin’, somethin’ grand,” a larger wave, like a poorly coordinated conductor, he smacked his hand too close to francis’ head. a groan from charles, as if he had grown nauseous from watching the motions, “somethin’ for me and charlie here,”

charles tried to turn away in his discontent, yet did not manage. camilla, concerned, laid a hand on his shoulder, “should we go? i think we should head home.”

“see?” bunny’s accusing tone found you once more, “you’re scaring the guests. put on some real music. like the... the...” he trailed off, lighting another cigarette. for good luck, one could imagine, “like goddamn— listen to led zeppelin, man! the rolling stones!”

you glanced to henry and found yourself surprised. a shared look.

“no such things in our humble repertoire,” you stated.

“mile davis, at least?”

“no,”

“i don’t believe you,”

“you’re free to check for yourself.”

amidst this small argument, which was much too common when dealing with bunny, camilla had somehow managed to wrestle charles into standing on his own two feet. unstable, he leaned onto his sister, the added weight making her stagger.

“goodness, take care of charles,” bunny whined, though his complaints never amounted to more than simple sulking. you chose not to pay them much mind.

it was henry that helped, carefully balancing his book on the armrest and coming to take charles from camilla’s embrace.

“should i drive you home?” he asked.

camilla shook her head, en route to retrieve her red scarf and new coat, “no, no, we’ll call a taxi.”

it was always mildly fascinating watching the two interact. camilla, never able to meet his gaze directly and for too long, and henry, who only ever extended wordless aid without prompt or reason to her only. what had she done to earn such favor was beyond you – beyond everyone, perhaps – but you were certain you weren’t the only one that saw this careful act of piety and kindness.

you observed them shuffle out after moments on the telephone, camilla’s hand ghosting henry’s arm, or grazing the bend of his elbow, and only when they disappeared past the large door to wait for the taxi did you look away.

loving henry winter was a sisyphean task, unworthy of the effort which it required. you thought yourself too smart for it, and thus, never cared to entertain the notion, not even when he kissed you.

you caught bunny staring at you: not scrutinizing, not calculating – simply staring. a curious leer that often fell on you after some semblance of mirth had worn down. almost shy, somewhat longing.

“this richard of yours,” you began, helping yourself to henry’s lucky strike. out of all the brands that you had smoked, this was the most bitter and always left a tart taste in the back of your throat. you craved it, “papen, was it?”

“yup,” bunny mumbled into his glass.

“and how is he?” your gaze jumped from him to francis.

“poor,” bunny said.

“californian,” francis tacked on.

“but he pretends he isn’t,” bunny continued.

“californian?” your brows rose. the smell, the taste – too powerful, almost choking.

“no, no,” bunny shook his head, disoriented for a moment, “rich. pretends to be rich. see, i didn’t tell you this, but,” and he reached for henry’s cigarettes, too, even if his own pack laid abandoned, two-three left untouched. he did this, at times, this odd mimicry: you smoked, he smoked what you did, you drank, he drank what you did, you decided a getaway to italy was your dream destination for a week and later learned he had haggled henry into buying tickets for the two of them, “but i, you know me: never judge a book by its cover, i say. invited him to dinner. the usual place, the one on-”

“god,” francis winced, and if he could move, surely he’d flee, “stop talking.”

“the lady asked, am i to deny her now? i thought he wouldn’t show, but he does, doesn’t he? with a goddamned tweed jacket, like i wouldn’t notice,” he hiccupped mid-explanation, the liquor long congealed into his system, “and, you know, me, i know people. i know people. i see them for what they are, and i knew he was a no good cheat from a mile away, but hey,” a straight spine, a bit proud, “i think to myself, you know what, old man, i’m gonna give this guy a chance. pop’s always-”

“aspirin,” francis interjected, this time directed at you, “bring me some, would you, juliet?”

you snorted, “a moment,”

“thank you, desdemona. you’re a midsummer night’s dream,”

“she’s from othello,”

“my point stands.”

you sauntered off into henry’s kitchen and scoured his cupboards for painkillers. the layout of this place you knew too well – perhaps, even, if you closed your eyes, you could discern each obstacle and map it in front of your eyes with the grace and certainty of a guidebook. you did just that.

behind you, a sudden coldness pierced through the humidity and a door shut harshly. the influx of fresh air was a brief slap to the face.

it’s been silent for a while now.

“what are you doing?” henry’s voice, not close, yet not too far. always observing at a distance, since closeness was never his intention. henry winter. what a fitting name.

“looking for aspirin.”

the tick of an unseen clock.

“top drawer,” there was no urgency; something you didn’t understand was what made him hurry to answer, “i hid them there. bunny keeps stealing my entire cabinet.”

your eyes fluttered open, “my, my. what a snitch,”

“don’t give him the aspirin,”

“it’s for francis,”

“very well.”

an impasse. you closed the cabinet and thought against bringing water with you, knowing it’s unneeded.

“may i?” henry asked, and when you turned to look at him, he was as always – unbreakable, unmovable. expectant, perhaps, his heavy gaze a familiar pressure upon your cheekbones, the curve of your jaw, your swollen mouth (from biting, not being kissed).

“they’re yours,” you said easily, turning the cap and spilling a few into the bed of your palm as he approached, “here.”

to make matters harder, there’s but a foot of space between the two of you. the smallest separation, every part of him and every part of you entangled into one odd constellation. an immensity of motion before him and an immensity of energy after.

“water?”

“whiskey.”

“is it also hidden?”

“no.”

so you retrieved him a glass, and then the bottle, and lastly you poured the amount enough to swallow in one gulp. when he took and drank, and you watched his adam’s apple bob, you wondered, briefly and hazily, was your act in any way similar to camilla’s. a star that constantly drew him into her orbit.

“you didn’t leave,” he uttered quietly, tired eyes flicking to the maw of the kitchen opening. down the foyer, the firelight danced. bunny’s voice rose in a toast, no doubt to shake francis out of his stupor.

“i did,” you said, a slow smile curling, “what you see before you is a specter. the delirious imaginings of an impoverished mind.”

“ridiculous,” the quirk of his eyebrows: mock-offended.

“amusing,” the narrow of your eyes: contagious, “was everything my spirit foretold the same as you saw it unfold?”

weariness. you looked for it and found it easy enough. his fingers flexed, his tongue went behind his teeth. the cogs turned. for all his genius, henry was too susceptible to fable and entirely too superstitious. he could ward himself off it well, yet when his inhibitions were down, there was a hint of something else, a spark of pious faith in the impossible, what not might come next. he kept looking at you for an extended moment, until the corner of his mouth, minutely, drew up into a not-quite-smile.

“hermia!” came francis’ voice from the other room, “i’m dying.”

henry said nothing.

you expected bunny drunkenly swinging an almost empty bottle around to try and cheer up francis (it rarely worked, unless it was wine), and yet, he wasn’t there. the living room felt very big, somehow, devoid of him and the makings of his gullible heart.

“and where is bun?” you questioned, almost scolding.

“bathroom,” francis succeeded sitting up, yet only just.

you heard henry curse under his breath. he disappeared, and soon you heard the continents of a stomach emptying down the hall and henry’s monotone behind a closed door.

“time to end this sabbath, me thinks,” you said. francis took the pills with a fresh glass of campari, nose scrunching from the taste.

“d’you think henry could drive me home?” francis asked.

“do you trust him with your life?”

“do you think he’d let me die?”

“depends,”

“no. i’ll cab it,”

“wise decision.”

henry returned, seemingly exhausted from his small adventure. no one followed after.

“bun?” you asked again, which seemed to displease him. he only shook his head. passed out, then. unfortunate, yet expected. if bunny could somehow gain authority over all of henry’s things – even the minute ones, the ones that don’t matter and exist in the peripherals without henry’s notice – he would. it was the same reason francis once insisted that bunny had been in love with you.

the incident occurred during your first year of college in early november. a rather somber and chilly day with leaves sticking to wet asphalt and stone walls amidst the rainy season. a monday. bunny had broken his ankle and complained terribly about it, and henry, who had become his caretaker, was sick of it and instead abhorred him. by accident and complete mischance, the handling of bunny corcoran had fallen onto your graceful shoulders, and in a single day – full of obsolete complaints and impulsive questions – the theorized affection was born.

if there was a way in which bunny’s countenance had changed in your presence, it was lost on you, for your attention, at the time, was solely pilfered by charles. he was, back then, the most handsome of the greek class, and oddly enough, the only one pleasant, thus you sought his favor. but charles never returned your fondness, no matter how minuscule it could be, and he never gave the impression of fleeting interest. only sometimes, when he thought you would not catch him, he would stare at you for a bit too long. you never got to figure out what he had thought in those moments.

instead, you figured yourself an actor – a pretty one at that – and decided to ignore this indelicate sort of charm and pursue a new mark. there were many, of course, plenty of faces to consider, yet the outcome was always the same. as it were, they were all terribly boring and reminded you greatly of the peers you’ve encountered in private schools, the self-proclaimed intellectuals of the new age that had too much time and too much heartbreak on their hands. good looks aside, not the slightest hint of culture nor comprehension, just money and nothing to show for it.

and then there was henry, of course, so quintessentially different that his existence, still, was hard to define. something outside the realm of you. something above or beyond, or perhaps below – always somewhere you could not reach. there was an irrecoverable arrogance to him and in his aloof demeanor. an inviolable space that never invited others.

yes, there had to be some appeal to the strangeness of him, yet never could you put your finger on what exactly it was. at least, not immediately. at first sight, though, there were more poetic reasons to it – of the tragic and of the divine kind, yet that was no truth but some novel-born whim, a pointless obsession, some meager infatuation. an involuntary fetish. he had not wanted you, which only made it so that you wanted him in turn. it wasn’t an ugly thing – it simply was.

he must’ve known. henry always seemed to possess the knowledge of things you had never dared to question or to think twice of. or, perhaps, maybe not: but, despite your inability to identify the cause of it, there was a certain change to your disposition upon entering his shared room. one, maybe, akin to the sudden fear brought by dark enclosed spaces, though a bit more subtle and complex.

it was, ironically, a winter’s night.

when you phoned the same taxi and requested it’s return, francis spoke in a hazy murmur, sluggishly trying to shrug on the coat you brought him, “god, i really need a cigarette.”

“hm?”

“do you see mine anywhere?”

a rueful search, hands grabbing the scattered glass and hardbound that littered the surface of the coffee table. a valiant attempt to move the couch cushions and dip fingers into the cracks.

“no,”

“well, fuck me,”

henry offered his, but francis refused. the living room lit up in that thick, acrid smoke anyway.

the foyer echoed with your footsteps. outside the townhouse, rain had started again. a few drops at first, tapping the windows, before quickly it grew and gained weight. soon, it was battering against the glass.

with your scarf in your hands you suddenly found yourself unsure what to do with it. the taxi was coming and it was time to go home and plead to a higher power for reprieve from the headache you knew would cripple you in the morning. perhaps, an afternoon tomorrow to mull around, dazed. yet there was no respite in any of that. you realized, then, with this abrupt trepidation, that the cause of your discomfort, or the cause that exacerbated it, was within this confided space. a chasm-deep disquiet, like an open mouth of a ravine, dark and shadowy, or the pull of a tide at sea, which was, as they say, irresistible to even the most levelheaded.

somewhat uneasily, you lingered by the coat hanger, and when francis ambled over, tripping over his own two feet, he downed the rest of his campari and shoved the glass into your useless hands. then, he kissed your cheek, quick and wet, before ripping the door open and shoving it closed behind you, hence halting your escape.

the house was deafened, and your palms itched. the overwhelming urge to twiddle with your scarf became unbearable, or it was because a pair of eyes bore into you from the depths of the room. the closest thing you’ve ever considered to a tangible aura: the smell of ozone and rain water and tobacco.

“don’t suppose he’s waiting in the rain, is he?” you said.

“no, i don’t think he is.”

it didn’t make sense, none of what happened afterward – the decision to face him instead of making off into the chilling night. your arms crossed in a quiet and peculiar motion, clutching the coupe a bit too tight.

“whiskey?” henry offered, and you felt like the silly ingénue in some high-brow noir thriller donning all that cashmere by the door, “or bourbon.”

��fine.”

a crease of his eyebrow – the sole indication of surprise. your jacket found its rightful place on the rack along with that dreaded scarf. hesitance was unfamiliar to you, as you had not known it growing up – neither a sense of propriety nor a loss of footing. the dandy act had been adopted and perfected to such a degree that to relinquish the mask itself was oddly relieving, the discomfort born merely by knowing that francis was aware of your unusual situation and the upcoming events that would take place once the theater was done. there was a brief thought to how henry might’ve perceived you then. perhaps the removal of a layer of pretense might’ve intrigued him, if anything.

you remained at a slight distance and watched him traverse his domain, stepping around the askew items left behind by bunny and a bottle of gin haphazardly upended by charles, warm by the fire. there was an anomalous sort of patience to him. the silence was an abrasion. so often, you found yourself chattering to fill the void, even with other men who took the shape of strangers.

“there’s quite a storm brewing,” you said, only to be met with more silence. when your words simpered, the feeling they left was inexplicably ominous. ‘all that is transitory is but a symbol,’ yet only a bad poet would dare to draw a soliloquy from henry’s figure by the flames.

thus, you sat down on the couch, still warm from francis, and held up the beloved champagne coupe. henry’s hand did not tremble as it poured, but your fingers quivered when his attention fell onto you.

“is it good?”

you never felt the alcohol, only the burning in the back of your throat.

“very,”

he found himself beside you, not too close. the distance was not unlike orpheus’ journey, or so it appeared in the dim firelight – the familiar pangs of the unwilling, the sudden, selfish urge of wanting to see him in his entirety, his visage unhindered

“may i?” you asked, meaning, of course, his cigarette. he acquiesced easily. the only telltale of his everlasting unbothered mien: his focus had, and always seemed to be, too acute. it was enough to unnerve anyone. flattering, perhaps, if only you could tell what he was thinking, but you never could.

in your lap, the half-empty coupe. you left a smudge of your lipstick on the cigarette butt. henry inhaled. it was not unlike a kiss.

“francis mentioned you didn’t want to see me,” you said.

“i didn’t,” he responded.

“a lie, was it then?”

“you assume to know?”

“yes.”

another drag. smoke parted his mouth, slow as molasses and heavy as clouds.

“you’ve changed,” you said.

conversation with henry had always been difficult, before and after your frequent follies in the dark. if you did speak, it was never about one another, or anything that resided past skin and bone, nestled somewhere in the marrow, only felt. in instances where you did find common ground it was only ever art – literature, specifically, and when he was in a good mood, painting. henry only had one fascination and refused to entertain others; here lied his fatal flaw. thus, in a crowd of three and more, you could exchange remarks that would seem and sound important but held no real meaning.

“what sort of change have you noticed?” henry murmured. the lighting cast shadows. his hands twitched.

you were not sure, as you remembered him in much more detail and color. here, ashen-faced and obscured, all you saw was the ghost of his image, as though he had grown morose in a way that a single season could not alter. the greek class had often suffered for the aesthetic – self-imposed punishments of grandeur and excess that to everyone outside their circle seemed quite ridiculous, along with their dark clothes and mysterious miens and enigmatic jokes. some said they were haunted or blessed, but none envied them. alas.

troubled is the closest you could find, though if you were to voice it, he might take you for a child. it was never good to seek out his vulnerability. he would say you could never find it, and, inevitably, it would end up being the truth. henry wasn’t good at love. no one of were.

you shrugged, “you’ve become quiet.”

“am i, now?”

“more so than you’ve been,”

“perhaps you’ve just gotten better at listening,”

“unlikely,”

henry cocked his head. his hand, once again, twitched and there was an urge to reach out and grasp his fingers – some sort of absolution or at least a consolation for something neither one of you might’ve cared to mention. never did the man in front of you appear unsure, yet somehow, despite his best effort to the contrary, you felt a similar trepidation of an undefined thing.

henry was impossible to read. not just a mystery, but undeciphered in ways so beyond the mundane. over the years, you had collected enough clues to form a humble dictionary, yet much of what was missing could only be determined through his own misfortune and complacency – things which would, then, by nature and by fate, stray into your arms.

it did not matter, not entirely, at least. you did not love henry, but you thought that camilla did, and he, in turn, her. once you exhausted your inspection, perhaps you would pass that glossary to her, though you doubted that she would ever find any use for it.

“well,” henry said, “i suppose that’s to be expected. anything else?”

“would you enjoy a dissection?”

henry hummed, perhaps in agreement or curiosity, but it was very possible that he thought you foolish.

“no need,” he said, “yours is transparent.”

“really?” you countered, “they never are. people, i mean.”

“who are you thinking of?”

your mind drifted to bunny, likely curled on the cold tiles of the bathroom. with the first few buttons of his shirt popped and tie loosened, there was the picture of one not withering away but merely on the incline of a steep and lonely hill. all quiet in the dark of a windowless room from which he couldn’t even turn his head and see the stars.

it felt as though he would wake soon and interrupt. his presence always breached spaces he did not occupy, and the anticipation of his arrival always lingered in the air, unspoken but palpable. perhaps bunny would always exist in the shadowy corner-room between you and henry, because, if what francis said was true, henry was the first to know of it and had you, still.

you wondered if he regretted it, if he felt like brutus sticking the first knife into caesar’s rib, closest to the heart. you considered asking: in that moment, the urge felt insurmountable. instead, you said, “a little bit of everyone.”

inclined, you caught his gaze. an abysmal color and a disorienting shade, as deep and gloomy as the woods surrounding mount cataract.

“and me?”

“of course,” you smiled and slid a bit closer, “it’s not like you to ask. have you become sentimental?”

“not exactly,” his eyes moved to his hands. then, the flecks in the fireplace, the piles on the floor, “i’ve been thinking.”

“care to elaborate?”

“no,” he said. you understood his need for privacy, and a small part of you could appreciate his effort, or maybe, rather, that you got something of an answer at all. he did, occasionally, tend to disappear in thought. he remained, despite his reluctance, sitting with you. this, in a way, spoke more to you than the words that could never leave his mouth.

“this weather makes a body wistful,” you told him, “and the greek have always liked their tragedies.”

he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth before lighting another cigarette, “what do you know of greek?”

always the same argument. always the same contradiction. your attraction was tempestuous, and so, it should have surprised you neither the sudden bite or the wicked sense of amusement.

“all that any student would, naturally,”

“so, nothing,”

“i suppose,” you would not admit, for he would win, “henry,”

something in his posture betrayed him, but it was not his eyes, nor his tone, “yes?”

you were close then, much closer than you were moments ago. his lips thinned in a brittle, noncommittal line and his eyes drooped – more of a warning than anything.

“are you going to kiss me?” you asked.

he wanted to, he must’ve, for it had been the only sensible action – you always pressed for what would hurt least. to drown and swallow poison. it was a favorite, and, for some reason, one he allowed, like an agreement reached. to your knowledge, he only ever let himself indulge in you.

henry only leaned in, which was enough for you. his mouth, a second, not any less tantalizing than the first. and you had kissed him with a brazen softness, enough that his hands snaked to grasp the back of your neck. another hit. the smoke and ash settled deep in your lungs. you had pushed it out in a groan when he dropped his hands to your thighs, pressing hard and confident as he had on those nights when you found each other too lonely. the ache he created was wonderful.

you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled it until it untucked. he swallowed and whispered in a language you were familiar with but couldn’t speak, and lifted your skirt.

you kept the cigarette between your teeth as he mouthed down your jaw and neck. his finger traced the skin at the back of your knee and that tickling spot right below your ribs. goosebumps rose and followed his touch. he nipped at the crook of your neck and dragged you onto his lap.

“you are dressed far too heavily, and terribly,” you heard him say, and when his lips found the shell of your ear, you could not stifle the shiver. the whole room felt claustrophobic, hot and steamy, like the aftermath of a scalding bath. your breaths grew labored. you closed your eyes against it and clawed into his arm.

henry said, again, this time more slowly and with a dull emphasis, “terribly.”

“how dare you insult my taste,”

“would you allow for a remediation of my sins?”

“luckily, i’m in an agreeable mood.”

henry’s own sigh was long and somewhat labored, as though a great pressure had been taken off him. and his hands flexed, moving up and down your back. a rare instance, to find him restless. you could admire this in private.

the press of lips to your neck. the collarbone, jutting sharp in the firelight.

there was the urge, sudden and quite novel, to caress his face, cup his cheek, graze the edge of the scar of the eye that’s colder than its twin, that shrouds you in a mist. such an act was outlawed, naturally, thus, the opportunity came and went, carried away on a drafting wind of smoke. an irredeemable misfortune, and you flicked the cigarette into your abandoned coupe.

“are you comfortable?” the gentle cadence of his voice sent a wave through the warmest depths of your abdomen.

“yes.”

henry, having brushed away your stockings, stroked at the insides of your thighs. there was a light feeling in your head, an almost dizzying sway. a subtle rocking, like boats at port, from where the two of you were perched. his digits dug into the firm meat. beneath his hands, a stretch of burning skin and sinew. muscle clenched and quivered, “terribly inconvenient, by the way.”

“how do you mean?”

“all the layers,” he muttered.

“good,”

“never good,”

and then, suddenly: “are you wet?”

“if you touched me properly, you could tell,”

henry ignored your response. his hand climbed upward, and found a place between the gusset and the middle seam, rubbing, testing.

“recently,” you said, “i’ve become fascinated with joseph cornell.”

“you’re stalling,” henry informed you without inflection, slipping a finger through the damp center. a harsh noise of pleasure left you when his tongue slid between your lips. one, then two, circling and sinking with the utmost delicacy.

“why? are you not curious to hear what i think of his boxes?” you managed, halfway.

another stroke. his thumb rubbing, slow and considerate, in the spot that makes your toes curl, tight and demanding. when his eyes opened and found yours, it was almost comical – his fingers in you, mouth and mind on a completely different path, yet the connection was there all the same. even more so, while trying to be detached, fumbling over buttons and laces.

“no,”

“you might learn something,”

he quirked a brow, “you truly wish to waste time talking?”

“aren’t you?”

“i am taking an assessment of your willingness to submit,”

“are you certain it’s not the other way around?”

henry rarely responded with malice; each action was carefully devised and, in conjunction, quite merciless. in this case, he dropped his hand from the vee of your legs and tugged at his shirt collar. the emptiness was startling, as was the feeling of tension that coiled tightly in your gut. then, he grabbed his drink and sipped from the sparkling glass. petty revenge, something he always assured was beneath him.

sensing defeat, you decided to placate him. after a dramatic roll of your eyes, you slipped onto the ground and knelt.

“henry,” you began, and reached for the fly of his pants. the outline of his cock was obvious beneath the smooth fabric, thick and promising, “home ruler,” in one instance of drunken curiosity, the lot of you agonized the meaning of your names, that perhaps they, somehow, unknowingly dictated your fate, “unwilling to shed his crown. is the head not heavy? most kings lost theirs, you know.”

“flattery doesn’t suit you.”

“folly, then,” you replied, dragging the flat of your palm across his groin and taking pleasure in the strained hiss, “are you going to let me do as i please?”

“i think that is,” at the peak of his inhale, you reached into his trousers and curled your fingers around his stiff cock, “quite apparent.”

you grinned, lazy but triumphant, thumbing the blunt ridge. smudging the dribble of white at the leaking head and reveling in his restrained reactions: the minute tremors, the twitch of his jaw, a gasp caught in his throat. you would have kissed him, again. his face might’ve twitched, something uncontrollable that would’ve given away his longing, if only he hadn’t pushed it down.

with a slow pump, your hand traveled. the size was admirable, familiar, nearly to the point of nostalgia. henry had touched more parts of your body than some of the lovers you took as an earnest attempt for passion. you had begged him once, half-gone, half-wild with what you thought was need and impatience, to only fuck you – without his clever mouth and his careful hands, but he hadn’t said yes, no, had only grabbed your jaw and pressed a sucking kiss to the soft and sensitive skin beneath your ear. a promise, almost. and in a way, it had been.

“you remember?”

henry’s voice snapped you to attention, and when you looked up, his expression matched his darkened eyes, intense. something flared hot and needy in you, and with it, the desire to be open and dripping for him. he curled a hand in the small hairs on the back of your neck, stroking the skin there and, even briefly, allowed himself an indulgence in the pleasure he could get from a single touch, and rocked his hips.

“vividly,” you told him.

the flames, behind you, cast him entirely in silhouette, and his shadow projected forward and rose tall, stretched. a ruler, indeed.

his chest moved slow and purposefully, and when he released your hair, the lack of contact felt like a shock to the system. his hand closed around your forearm, “come here.”

the tone, hoarse and hushed and so quietly demanding, startled you, and you stood up so quickly that your head spun. henry placed his hands on your hips, steadying, ushering you back to where you belonged.

“just there.”

legs, parted, framing his waist. fabric, bunched between your thighs. breathing, slowed. a firm, calming weight, pinning you down. the firelight glinted in his eyes.

“henry,” you called. and the only thing to signal his movement was a bob of his adam’s apple. the cufflinks of his sleeves swayed and flickered. he hummed, neither affirmation nor disagreement and entered you with a grunt.

more. skin flushed. eyes crinkled and tightened. more. nails curled and scrabbled for purchase.

there, your name on his lips. it was disorienting – not so much a cry, or a whisper, but something between the two. henry always spoke carefully, as though each word should carry the most weight, so each syllable, in turn, he would construct and cut, meticulous and mathematical. but here, breathless and wanting, they rolled out in a steady litany, never faltering.

all fire and scorching, the pitch of it high and needy. to thrust and bruise, the idea fizzed bright and brilliant at the apex of your spine. with each snap of his hips, a part of him carved a piece of you out, and each ragged noise shook loose a piece of your skin. it would fit him perfectly. then he would slide right into those hollow spaces that swelled and throbbed, expanding beyond tolerance. in moments like these, you loved him – his body, his touch, his face, everything that could not be articulated.

“please,” you begged him, trying to curl around the ache, “i want-”

“i know, i know,” he murmured, with a tilt of his head. his hair, you noticed, had lost its immaculate shape, wild and frazzled by your fingers. your heart swelled and contracted: you wanted to do it again, over and over until his whole countenance resembled nothing more than that of a ravaged man. your power, the only thing you had over him. henry closed his eyes.

“spread your legs a little wider,”

a moan slipped when his tongue flicked and curled against the side of your neck, wet and sloppy. the sweet roll of his hips, his fingers pulling at the buttons of your attire and squeezing the fleshy swell of your buttocks. it was always too much.

you licked your lip, shaking when his teeth gently pinched. and, for a moment, the smell of pine permeated the room. as though it were his own sweat and the heady musk of his natural scent, and not a waning bottle of cologne.

“hold onto me,” henry whispered and allowed for nothing more, driving the movement out of your hands. the tempo spiraled upward. at the center, the tension was building. there was a moment of vertigo.

and it was easy enough, as things had always been between the two of you, to ignore the disjointed voices in the back of your mind. how when you two first kissed, it’d been without grace. how the rain fell, trickled, all around you, drowning the dryness in your throat. how the next day, he asked if you would regret what you’d done. and here, now, a different but striking feeling: the warm haze brought on by alcohol, his palms were hot, slick with sweat, his belt digging into you.

henry grunted and swore to a god neither of you had put much faith in. the flush on his cheeks was impossible not to reach out and touch, his eyebrow scarred with the same sort of smooth texture and fading red, his lashes, long and fine, flickering against the high edge of his cheekbones. i love you, you wanted to tell him, but the high struck you ruthlessly, turning you to liquid.

in the aftermath of this brief paradise, you shared a look.

“i still despise this weather,” you said.

henry’s mouth quirked. and what had been the impulsive dalliances of two desperate people became, once more, two lonely creatures with enough distance between to fill one of henry’s beloved epics. the quiet, in the wake of catharsis, was rather terrifying, and the clatter outside – the rain, the wind, and the cold – almost accusatory. he offered you a cigarette.

you took it without thank you and let him light it.

“should i drive you home?” he offered, voice raspy. his shirt had wrinkles and his collar sat funny. the skin beneath was pink, and there was the barest mark where you had sunk your teeth or dug a nail too hard. you bit the end of the filter, watching the flame waver before rising into ash.

“you’re drunk,” it felt necessary to remind him, though it never stopped him.

“do you want me to drive you home?” he asked again. a long pull and a thin veil of smoke.

“yes,” you said, “i’ll go wake bunny.”

“no,”

“no?”

“stop it.”

“stop what?”

“speaking of him,”

“has he done something?”

silence.

“henry?”

“leave it,” he said, but his tone was tight.

“alright. i’ll get my coat, then,”

“of course,” he murmured, standing slowly. you shouldn’t have seen him put his hand against the wall to steady himself, as though any drunken spell had fled, and with it, his equilibrium. the movement was both conscious and contrived, a fact of necessity, and not like the rest of him, braced by his surroundings and firm in stature. a self-constructed illusion, designed to project a set of attributes meant to create the atmosphere of authority. he embodied it well, but he was still, stripped of the mythos, simply human.

you watched him settle and raise his head with a gentle exhale. a mere lift of his shoulders, and he resembled a man in control, content, satisfied – everything henry was, and yet, within the façade, you could see the truth of his discomfort, recently, and without fault, brought upon by an uttered name.

in the upcoming months, you would understand and wonder if there was something you could have done or said to warn him of a future that was inevitable. no matter how many nights you had spent distressing over this question, the answer would always make itself obvious.

there was nothing you could have ever done.

thank you for reading !

[suekeyyyy]

Bowers Gang.

Seires: pervs of derry. NOT A CHAPTER.

Warnings: The added members are from the books and the original seires.

--------'------------------------'-------------------------'---------------------'-

🩸HENRY BOWERS 🗡 _The leader_ 16 years old. 🇺🇲/🇺🇲

- Known bully, racist, sexual offender, alcoholic, and abuser.

💥 PATRICK HOCKSTETTER ⚠️ _CO Leader_ 17 years old. 🇺🇲/🇰🇷

- Known bully, rapist, animal abuser, and sexual offender.

🏈REGINALD 'BELCH' HUGGINS🚙 _Get away Driver_ 16 years old. 🇺🇲/🇺🇲

- Known bully.

🚬VICTOR CRISS📓 _Smartst Member_ 16 years old. 🇺🇲/🇺🇲

- Known bully, smoker, and "good" student.

🤼🏻‍♂️ STEVE 'MOOSE' SADLER🏅 _Meat Head_ 17 years old. 🇺🇲/🇯🇵

- Known bully, smoker, sexual offender, and alcoholic.

🏴‍☠️GARD JAGERMEYER 🕸 _Dumb ass_ 16 years old. 🇩🇪/🇺🇲

- Known bully, smoker, and alcoholic.

Note: the bowers gang [ I'm stalling. ]

[buckyscrystalqueen]

More the Merrier: Part 5

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter

Warnings: Swearing, Polyamory

Word Count: 3,412

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the heartbreak your family felt, you decided to stay in Australia for the full two weeks. You could definitely tell that there was a heavy, melancholy feel to the air, but that didn’t stop you all from enjoying the country Henry had never been to before.

“I don’t want to go home.” You complained on the last day as you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling of the hotel room as Henry packed both your luggage.

“It’s time, baby.” He huffed with a smile as he set an outfit aside to travel in. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Can we stop in Jersey instead of London on the way back? I want you all to meet my family.” A smile stretched across your face as you rolled onto your side to look at him. 

“Of course! We can absolutely do that if that’s what you want.” He paused and looked up at you with a nod.

“I absolutely do.”

“Then we’ll stop in Jersey.” You agreed as Nat came into your room with her hand held out. She handed you two Advil and your brow furrowed. 

“For your cramps.” She clarified since your cycles were in sync. Your brow furrowed further as you sat up and shook your head.

“I don’t have cramps. I don’t have my period.” Natasha and Henry both froze and looked over at you as you stared at the two pills in your palm. “Natasha, I don’t have my period.”

“Okay. Okay.” She said as calmly as possible as she walked over to take the pills from your hand so she could take hold of it. “Let’s not panic. There’s a pharmacy at the end of the next block.”

“I’ll take her.” Henry said as he abandoned the suitcases. He walked over to you and instantly pulled you into his shaky arms for a hug. 

“I’ll get Bucky.” Nat whispered numbly. “We’ll all go.” Henry nodded and you fisted his shirt in your hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby girl.” He mumbled into your hair as he shook his head. “Don’t you dare be sorry.”

“How is this possible?”

“We didn’t use condoms on the plane. And you don’t use them with Bucky.” He reminded you as he pulled back to cup your jaw in his hands to search your now panicked eyes. “(Y/N), it is alright. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Even if it’s Bucky’s?”

“Even if it’s Bucky’s.” You nodded your head as the man in question walked into the room with Natasha’s hand held tightly in his.

“Hey baby girl.” He cooed softly as he came over to brush his hand down the back of your head. “We’re alright, okay? Everything is going to be just fine.”

“I know.” You sighed as Henry pulled you to your feet. He carefully tucked you into his side while Bucky grabbed your and Nat’s hands and the four of you headed out the door to go to the pharmacy. 

——

“Natasha, I’m sorry.” You said softly as she stood in the bathroom of your hotel, ripping open pregnancy test after pregnancy test to make sure that they weren’t false positives… which they weren’t. She whipped around toward where you were sitting on the tub ledge and shook her head frantically.

“Solnyshka, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, do you hear me?”

“But I…”

“Sweet girl.” She sighed as she came over to kneel down in front of you while gently cupping your face in her palms. “I am not mad. I am ecstatic! A bit scared because we’re about to get on the plane for a full day and all I want to do is get you to a doctor to make sure you’re okay. But I am not mad, you hear me?” You nodded as best as you could as Bucky and Henry walked back into the bathroom to look at the current test situation. They had taken the news of the first positive one quite seriously and immediately played rock, paper, scissors for who got to sleep with you in the bed on the plane. Henry won best two out of three. 

“Stop looking at me like I’m about to explode.”

“We’re not, baby.” Henry chuckled as he came over to sit down beside you to hold your hands. “We’re just checking to make sure you’re okay with all of this.”

“I’m okay.”

“Shit, we’re gunna be parents.” Bucky laughed as he ran his hand down the back of your head in a continuous, soothing rhythm. “Who’d have thought it.”

“Alright, let’s get our stuff and head to the airport.” Natasha said as she stood up and went to collect all of the positive tests to throw out. “I’ll call the doctor when we get to London to meet us at the house.”

“Oh, we’re going to Jersey.” You pipped up as you stood up. “Henry wants to introduce us to his parents on the way home.”

“Alright then I’ll call when we are leaving Jersey.” Nat confirmed as she washed her hands. “But let’s get a move on it all the same.”

“We’re going, we’re going.” Bucky chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and settled his hands on your lower stomach. He kissed your neck with a smile before pulling away to spank your ass lightly. “Come on, lil mama.”

“Oh, don’t you start.” You giggled as you headed out into your room and grabbed your day bag off the bed. It was immediately taken from your hands by Henry.

“No heavy lifting.” He said with a smile as he shouldered the bag while you huffed at him. 

“It’s not heavy lifting, it’s a bag of clothes.”

“No heavy lifting.” Your family chorused simultaneously which made you roll your eyes.

—— 

“I feel like this is really bad timing.” You said as you Ubered to Henry’s parent’s house.

“It’s perfect timing, baby.” Henry said as he reached over the middle seat to take ahold of your hand. You nodded against Bucky’s side in the back seat as the Jersey landscape flew by your windows. “I want my family to know my family.”

“We can wait.” Natasha said, politely as she turned on the seat next to Henry to look back at you. “If you really want to, we can wait.”

“No, let’s just do it.” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair. “We’re here and it’s been so long since you’ve seen your parents… let’s just go.”

“Okay then.” Henry said with a nod as he squeezed your hand and turned back around in his spot as the Uber pulled up in front of a quaint home. Everyone got out and Henry instantly grabbed your hand so he could wrap his arm around your waist. “They are going to love you.” He whispered in your ear as the four of you headed up the walkway to the front door. You nodded like a bobblehead as he knocked on the door before reaching back for Natasha’s hand to pull her closer as well. 

“Oh!” The woman who answered the door exclaimed as she took a step back. “Well I’ll be! Henry?! Come in, come in!”

“Hi mum.” Henry said sweetly as he guided you and Natasha into the house first. You looked around the cozy living room that had photographs everywhere and you felt at ease for the first time all day.

“Who are your friend’s dear?” The woman asked as she gave her son a hug while an older man called out his son’s name.

“Hi dad. This is my girlfriend, (Y/N)… and her wife and my other girlfriend, Natasha and their husband, Bucky. Guys this is my mum, Marianne and my dad, Colin.” The room got pin drop silent as Marianne looked between you and Natasha with a furrowed brow. 

“I’m sorry. You said wife and husband?” She clarified, which made you take a step back into Bucky’s chest. He instantly wrapped his arms around your body to protect you from whatever fall out was about to happen.

“Yes.” Henry said as he put his arm around Natasha’s waist. “We’re in a polyamorous relationship.”

“A poly what?” Colin asked as he looked at your family with confusion.

“A polyamorous relationship.” Henry repeated as he turned to find your hand so he could hold it while holding Nat to his other side. “We are all in a relationship together. And we just found out that (Y/N) is pregnant while on holiday in Australia.” Henry’s parents stayed dead silent for almost a full minute, making you and Nat shift unconsciously under their scrutiny, before Marianne nodded her head slowly.

“So you’re happy then?” She asked as she looked up into her son’s eyes, hopefully.

“I am.” He told her with a nod as he squeezed your hand. “Very much so.”

“Well then it’s settled.” She said as she stepped forward and cupped your and Nat’s jaws in her hands. “You two are gorgeous.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” You both said simultaneously, which made her tisk at you.

“None of that. It’s Marianne or mum. Come sit down, we’ll call your brothers. How long are you in town for? Here, girls you can sit here. Colin, go get some chairs from the dining room for the boys.” At her fussing, a smile spread across your face and you shared a look with your wife because neither of you had parents that would fuss over you. “Drinks! Oh, I have water and some beers…”

“I’ll get everyone drinks, mum.” Henry said as he headed through a door off to the right while Colin came in with two chairs from a door behind you. Bucky lunged to help him and you giggled as Marianne fussed while pulling a blanket across your lap.

“A baby.” She said more to herself as she pulled a foot stool over and propped your feet up for you. “How wonderful.”

“Mum, let her alone.” Henry said as he carried in three beers and a glass of water for you. “She just found out. She’s not fragile.”

“Oh, alright.” Marianne conceded as she held up her hands in surrender since she had done all she wanted to do to make you comfortable anyways. “Now, you three tell me all about yourselves. I want to know everything.”

“Mum, I didn’t bring them here for you to give them the third degree.”

“Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill, I will get to know my son’s partners as I see fit. You hush.”

“Yea, Henry. Hush.” Natasha teased before taking a sip of her beer and putting her hand on your lower back to draw circles on your skin until you melted in your spot. “Well not to drop more news bombs on you but I am a former countess of Russia, (Y/N) is an heiress, and Bucky works on Wall Street.”

“A countess, really?!” Marianne gasped as she took a seat on the arm of the recliner chair Colin was sitting in. “And what kind of heiress, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“My family are ranchers out in Montana. Have been for hundreds of years.”

“Oh ranchers. That makes a lot of money then?”

“Mum.”

“What, it’s just a question.” She chided as she swatted the air in Henry’s direction.

“Yes, it makes a lot of money.” You confirmed with a nod before taking a sip of water to sooth your parched throat. 

“Fascinating. Now Bucky, was it? Tell me about your job. Oh, let me send a text to the boys first to tell them to come over to meet you all.”

“My brothers.” Henry clarified as he shifted nervously in his seat beside you. You reached out and gently took his hand and he visibly relaxed almost instantaneously. Once the text was sent, Marianne kept a running string of questions coming as she got to know her son’s new family. It took almost an hour for Henry’s brother’s and their families to arrive and right as the last brother walked in, your stomach growled loudly.

“Oh, we need to feed you!” Marianne exclaimed as she jumped to her feet and started pushing her way through the crowd. “Colin call Pizza Express. See if they can get us a couple tables. They shouldn’t be too busy tonight. Is pizza alright, dears?”

“Pizza is lovely.” Natasha agreed with a nod before she handed her finished beer to Marianne’s waiting hand.

“This is chaotic.” You giggled to Henry as he stood up and unwrapped you from the blanket with a smile. 

“This is my family.”

“And it’s perfect.” You concluded as he helped you to your feet.

——

Dinner with Henry’s family was exhausting. Fantastic, but exhausting. However, you weren’t able to fall asleep. You lay in Henry’s childhood bedroom, staring at the wall, trying to convince yourself that you should get up and head to Piers’ room where Henry was sleeping but you didn’t want to be inappropriate. Marianne had said that this room had the comfiest bed and it was comfortable, but you were sleeping alone for the first time since you met Henry and you were not a fan. 

About 20 minutes later, when you had finally convinced yourself to get up, there was a light knock on the door.

“Come in.” You sat up and let out a sigh of relief as Henry slipped into the room.

“I’m not a fan of sleeping alone.” He whispered as he tiptoed across the floor. You pulled back the blankets and scooted to the middle of the bed with a shy smile.

“Your mom won’t mind?”

“I frankly don’t care.” He said as he got into bed and instantly pulled you into his arms. He sighed and nodded his head as he kissed your forehead. “Much better.”

“I was just about to come join you myself.” You whispered as you ran your fingertips up and down his spine as a second knock sounded on your door.

“Come in.”

“Well if you two weren’t sleeping alone, we weren’t.” Bucky said as he pushed Natasha into the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

“This is a full size bed, people.” You reminded them as you scooted closer to Henry so the two newcomers could get in as well. 

“We’ll make it work.” Nat said as she pushed Bucky down on the bed and climbed on his chest. She laid down on top of him and you cringed as the bed settled but thankfully didn’t break.

“Cozy.” 

“Get your knee out of my crotch. I am not your wife.”

“Ow! My hair!”

“My mum is going to lose her shit in the morning if we break this bed.”

“Sleep!” Natasha hissed as she pulled the blanket up over everyone and settled in against Bucky’s chest. With a smile on your face, you swung your knee over Henry’s hip and snuggled impossibly closer to him and almost instantly fell asleep with your family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

When you got back from your vacation, the melancholy mood that had followed you after Steve’s departure settled back in when you realized he had moved out of your condo and in with Sharon permanently. It lasted a couple weeks until you had your first doctor’s appointment with your OB/GYN.

“Twins?!” Natasha exclaimed as you lay frozen on the metal exam table. 

“Holy shit.” Bucky breathed as Henry simply got up from his chair to hold your hand. 

“Fraternal twins.” Your OB, Cara Smith said as she took images of your 12 week along babies. “The antibiotics you took when you had the road rash to prevent infection knocked out your birth control. That’s the only thing I can think of of why you got pregnant on the pill. Y’all wanted to do a DNA test, correct?”

“That’s still the plan.” Nat said as she looked over at you and reached out for your other hand. “You okay, solnyshka?” You nodded your head and looked over at her with fear in your eyes. “Hey now.” She said softly as took a step closer and ran her hand over the top of your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.” You nodded and swallowed deeply as Cara removed the wand and printed out your sonograms for you. 

“Alright, let’s get some bloodwork done, and then I need both dad’s to do the same.” Cara informed the group as she picked up her laptop and started putting in notes. Both boys nodded as you stood up and dropped your maxi dress down to cover yourself while Nat handed you your panties. Cara excused herself from the room and you looked over at your wife.

“How the hell are we going to handle twins?”

“Well there are four of us to two of them.” Bucky pointed out as he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie since he had come to this appointment straight from work on his “lunch break”. “We got this, (Y/N).” You nodded once and looked up at Henry who still hadn’t said anything and he sighed when he met your eye.

“Yes, I’m scared, too.”

“Thank God I’m not the only one.” You breathed in relief as you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“Everything is going to be just fine.” Natasha cooed, happily as she walked up behind you to rub your back while ducking into your line of sight so she could look you in the eye. “I promise. We are going to figure this all out and it’ll be a walk in the park.”

“If you say so.” You commented as the nurse came in to do your blood work. You forced yourself to let go of Henry and to sit back down on the exam table as he pulled his arm out of his Henley to get ready for his own bloodwork. After about 15 minutes, you were dismissed from the exam room and told to set up an appointment in four weeks for the gender reveal and DNA results appointment. 

“You hungry, baby girl?” Bucky asked as he took one of your hands, while Henry took the other as Nat set up your next appointment. You shook your head because nausea and morning sickness were a real struggle for you that hopefully would go away with the prescription meds Cara called in for you.

“I’ll grab lunch with you, handsome.” Nat said over her shoulder as she scrolled through the family calendar on her phone to find the best date for the next appointment so you could all be there. “Henry?”

“I’m gunna just grab something at the house when I take (Y/N) home. I have finish my college admissions essay so I can apply to NYU’s photography program before the deadline.”

“Still proud of you.” You said softly as you squeezed his hand. He smiled down at you and gave you a single head nod as Nat finished up with the female scheduler.

“Alright, then I’ll see you both at home.” She said as she gave you both a kiss. You kissed Bucky goodbye, wished him well for the rest of his work day, and headed out of the office with your family until you went in separate directions at the front door. 

“What’s got you so nervous, baby?” Henry asked as he hailed a cab at the corner. 

“I’m just nervous something’s going to go wrong.” You admitted with a small shrug. “What if, God forbid, something bad happens?”

“Then you and I will get through it together.” He stated simply as the pair of you got into the cab. Henry gave the driver your cross streets and sat back in his spot to pull you into his side with a sigh. “We aren’t alone, anymore, baby girl. We have each other and Bucky and Natasha. We have a family. And now, our family is growing by two more so we still aren’t alone. Any issues that arise will be dealt with by four adults that already love these babies more than life itself, right?”

“Yea, you’re right.” You sighed as you sank into his embrace a bit more.

“I know I’m right.” He chuckled as he rubbed your arm. “I’m always right… ow!”

“I’m always right.” You giggled with a smile as he rubbed where you had lightly pinched his thigh. “Not you.”

“Of course you are, baby. Of course you are.”

Part 6

[frickingnerd]

yandere henry

pairing: henry x gn!reader

tags: established relationship, dangerous & deceiving yandere, mentions of murder & threats, mentions of marriage & kids

henry is the sweetest guy to you, but he's a sadistic monster to anyone around you!

he coddles you, spoils you wherever he can and drowns you in love and affection. but when anyone dares to interrupt his time with you, it's like a switch is flipped.

that sweet smile on henry's lips remains, but as he talks in his usual kind tone, venomous threats leave his lips, of murdering and torturing the people who dare disturb the two of you

henry is more than willing to kill people. he did it before and he'll do it again, if it means keeping you all to himself and preserving what you two have

people might warn you about him, but it's hard to believe them. after all, henry is nothing but sweet to you! he's the kindest boy you ever met!

and henry wouldn't dare lay a hand on you! unless you'd do something as terrible as cheating on him… but even then, it's more likely he'll just kill the other man

henry doesn't have any big wishes for his future with you. if you want to get married, have kids, get pets or move in together, then he'll simply go along with whatever you wish for!

henry is the happiest when you're happy, so he always tries to preserve your happiness! even if his ways are a bit extreme…

[greenandsorrow]

IMPORTANT FOR MY TSH MULTI CHAP!!!!!

'What once was.' -> Henry Winter x OC

I've been rereading the book to help me pace the fic. I've been spending time drafting. Also, Rita (the oc) has become her own person and less of a self insert, which I like. But, I need your opinion on something!!!

Tartt has left some room for interpretation on Henry and Camilla's relationship. I just want to decide what I'll do with it in my fic.

Also, I'll post an irrelevant Henry smut before the first chapter of this.

YOU CAN TALK ABOUT YOUR OPINION IN THE COMMENTS. I'll love to hear it❣️

Tag list; @futurecorps3 @gxdsmonsters @waterisnotreal0 @breathingstarlight @anonymousewrites @sunlightempire @f4iriypng @yourlocalloser-core @riddledarkness @lady-darknessa

[originalfireemblemscenarios]

Can I request Henry with an S/O that's basically a ray of sunshine please? Like they're always cheerful, enjoy being in the spotlight and doesn't have a bad thing to say about anyone~

Istg I'll end up playing either fire emblem fates or awakening with how often I'm reminded of how much I miss it...

Henry with sunshine S/O

Reader here is gender neutral

Cw: I am writing things in Henry's gory sense of compliments but ig since you like Henry stuff like that shouldn't move you much lol

Oh you're just such a cutie patootie. He's not immune to your captivating smile, your laugh, nothing. And he definitely isn't even trying to.

If you laugh at his puns there isn't anything that will stop him. He'll keep making up more and more (disturbing) comparisons and puns just to hear more of your cute laugh.

You make everyone around you happy, and while it makes you even more so amazing he can't help but feel a tiny bit jealous from time to time.

That jealousy would only result to him being clingy though. You're HIS sunshine. And you burn so bright, hm... Just thinking about it makes him think about beautiful death rays...

Honestly at this point he's not surprised on any of your positive views or anything of the sorts. Even if you take most awful tragedy and try to think of a positive outcome he just nods along to whatever you say.

You're the love of his life so of course you're right! If anyone disagrees they'll just be like little ants and Henry will be the magnifying glass to your shining personality that burns them to bits.

~Mod Bernadetta

[bellaxgiornata]

Forbidden Love [Part Two: Intrigue]

Pairing: Vampire Henry x Fem!Werewolf!Reader Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: Smut, blood, biting (I mean...that's a given), bit of enemies to lovers, maybe some angst and fluff

[The installment list and summary for this mini series can be found here.]

a/n: Another little update for this series featuring some good ol' sexual tension. Fedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

Pulling your shirt over your head as the cold air bit at your skin, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck rising. The uncomfortable sensation that you were being watched hit you hard, your hands hesitating with your shirt halfway pulled down your torso. Eyes closing, you expelled a sharp, annoyed breath. 

You had hoped that tonight you'd finally been alone out here hunting, choosing to assume the deer you'd found drained earlier had been killed before you'd shown up this evening. But you could practically feel Henry's presence just behind you right now, and when the wind blew past, his familiar cologne met your nose–though it was marginally less poignant now that you’d shifted. 

"What do you want this time?" you ground out between gritted teeth, your back still turned. "Come to peep at me again? Unfortunately for you, you're too late to steal my clothes."

"I can see that," his teasing voice called from behind you. 

Turning swiftly on bare feet, you found the vampire standing surprisingly not too far from you. He was grinning back at you, dressed in a maroon suit this time, one that still looked quite as outdated as everything else he wore. But your eyes didn't miss the silver chain hanging from his pants, just beneath his suit coat. 

Instinctively you took a step back, attention fixed on the chain as your back straightened. Was he intending to use that on you? Had he been intending to hurt you after all? Waiting for you to lower your guard with him first?

Henry's silver, reflective eyes glanced down in the dark, following your stare. He huffed out an awkward laugh, his hand reaching down and grabbing the chain as he glanced back up at you. 

"'M'gonna be honest," he told you, "I didn't wear this on purpose. This is entirely accidental, if you can believe it."

"So a silver chain just happened to go with your outfit this evening?" you snapped at him.

Even to your ears you noticed that your words didn't have much bite to them. You were afraid he was going to use that on you somehow, and your fear showed in the tremble of your voice. 

Silver hurt werewolves. Killed them even, depending how it was used. There was no way he didn't know that. 

"Yes?" he replied, sending you a sheepish smile.

You took a step back, wanting to put some distance between the pair of you. Though Henry took a step towards you the second you moved. Anxiety rising as you chewed the inside of your cheek, you contemplated shifting back here and now. Were you going to have to fight him off? 

"I assured you previously that I wasn't gonna harm you," he said calmly. "Here."

His hands moved slowly, his eyes focused on you as he gradually began to undo the silver chain from his pants. Holding your breath, you nervously watched him as he very slowly removed it before he tossed it aside. It landed in the dirt away from the both of you with a soft noise. After, he gradually raised his hands up in the same gesture showing he meant no harm like he'd done when you'd spoken a few nights ago. 

"Better?" he asked.

Your eyes held his, entirely unsure what to make of this strange creature of the night. You knew you were supposed to despise him–be afraid of him even–but yet you hadn't told anyone in your pack about him. And you'd been left wondering just why you hadn't said a word to them, either. It was like you'd wanted to keep him your own little secret. 

But right now you were left wondering whether it had been a mistake that you hadn't said anything with the way his eyes were staring at you almost hungrily. 

Even though you had found yourself curious about him, having been thinking about him ever since you'd briefly encountered him last, you had been hoping not to see him again out here. Whatever this strange feeling he'd been drawing forth in you was supposed to be wrong . He was a vampire and you were a werewolf. You didn't have an attraction to him–you couldn't . It wasn't natural .

Yet somehow, you found yourself standing completely still as he continued to slowly approach you. Heart beginning to beat a little faster in your chest–whether in fear or excitement, you weren't sure–you saw a smile spread across his lips. He must’ve heard the change in its rhythm, too.

"Why do you keep following me?" you demanded. "What do you want from me?"

"I told you before," he said, closing the remaining distance between you both, "I haven't seen your kind in quite a long time. Centuries, really. Consider me curious."

"Consider me annoyed," you quipped back.

He chuckled softly, mirth glimmering in his eyes that now looked hazel at this proximity. He had come to a stop just before you, his presence causing your breath to catch in your throat. He was irritatingly handsome, you couldn’t deny it. 

"Judging by the way your heart is racing, darling," he began softly, his hand carefully reaching out towards yours, "I don't think 'annoyed' is how you're feeling at all."

His fingers lightly encircled your wrist, his eyes still holding yours. Taking his time, he began to raise your hand upwards, eventually bringing the back of it towards his mouth. Your eyelids fluttered the moment he lightly brushed his lips against your skin, the rasp of his beard surprisingly softer than you'd anticipated. Still focused on his lips, you saw the way they pursed right before you felt him place a light kiss against your knuckles. 

"Been a pleasure finally meeting you," he murmured.

Turning your hand over, he brushed his nose along the inside of your wrist, humming out a pleased noise as he did. Swallowing hard, you felt a rush of unexpected heat flood you at his continued and confusing touch.

You wanted him. There was no denying it with the way your body was reacting to him. As wrong as it was supposed to be, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to let him kiss you. To let him touch you–fuck you.

Bite you.

Tongue slipping out between your lips, you watched as he began to trail a few kisses up the inside of your forearm. A soft whine escaped you the higher his lips traveled, an undeniable and unexpected need building inside of you. Henry's lips curled into a smile against your skin, the touch of them against you only slightly warmer than the cold night air itself. 

"Definitely not annoyed," he teasingly purred. "You can't hide the rush of your blood from me. I can hear where it's headed."

"What–" 

You were cut off the moment he ran the tips of his fangs just over the delicate skin of your forearm, trailing them all the way back down towards your wrist. Exhaling a quivering breath at the sensation, you struggled to form a coherent thought. 

"Are you doing this to me?" you breathed out. 

"Mmm, no," he whispered, his mouth moving along your wrist as he spoke. "At least not in the way you're meaning. If you're becoming aroused, darling, it's entirely because you're enjoying yourself."

Blinking rapidly, you shook your head. His words had briefly broke through your thoughts, momentarily drawing you from how good his mouth on you had felt.

Becoming aroused? By a vampire? That was absurd. And what the hell were you doing letting him touch you like this? Letting him put his fangs on you?

You sharply drew your hand from his grip, holding it against your chest. Henry's hand hovered in the air for just a moment before it gradually lowered back to his side as he straightened up before you, a charming smile slipping onto his face. He seemed unbothered by your reaction. 

"I don't know what your game is," you hissed, "but I'm not falling for it."

"No game, darling," he assured you. "I simply want you."

Your eyes narrowed to slits at his response. So he wanted you, too, then? Or was he simply messing with you?

"Why?" you asked sharply. "Because I'm some sort of novelty to you?"

Henry shook his head, that charming smile still on his beautiful mouth. "No," he answered. "I happen to find myself inexplicably drawn to you. Ever since I first caught your scent."

"My scent?" you questioned, brows drawing tight together. "What about it? You said I smelled like wet dog last time. Now you're going to tell me you’re drawn to it?"

"You don’t actually smell like that. It was merely a joke to ease the tension," Henry explained with a light shrug. "But your blood is human and wolf. Making it…quite a unique aroma. One I haven't smelt since I was young and less inclined to… tempt danger." 

He flashed you another smile, his eyes openly roving over your clothed body. A shudder ran through you under his stare, goosebumps raising along your arms. How was he making you feel like this with only his gaze?

"Consider me…more inclined now to tempt it now," he murmured.

"Well maybe I'm not," you replied. 

His smile steadily grew into a smug smirk at the breathiness of your words, the corner of his lips curling upwards. That hungry look returned to his eyes and you felt your knees beginning to tremble at the sight of it.

"I have a strong feeling one of these nights you're gonna tell me yes," he whispered. "And I promise you won't regret it when you do, darling."

You eyed him curiously as he bowed his head to you, one of your brows quirking up onto your forehead. He seemed oddly confident in himself–ignoring the fact that he did have an effect on you that he'd also noticed. One you couldn't explain. 

"I'll be seeing you again real soon, love," he promised. 

Before you could even contemplate what to respond with, he'd vanished in a blur with that frustrating vampiric speed of his. And once more you were left standing in the woods feeling confused. 

Though this time, you found yourself feeling a little intrigued, too.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Vacancy

Henry x Reader (Eat Locals)

Words: 3025

Summary: Henry’s affection for humans has always confused the other vampires in the region. When there is a vacancy among the eight, Vanessa brings forward his girlfriend in the hopes of turning her into one of them. 

Notes: I’m obviously changing the story of the movie, but I thought this would be a fun experiment. I wanted to do something a little angstier with Henry, and this was so enjoyable. I hope you guys like it too. Happy Halloween! 

-

You memorized the way the sun felt on your skin as it set. The warmth. The color it turned the sky. It was beautiful. But you’d already said your goodbyes to daylight. 

You made your way back into the house, making sure the curtain on the door was closed. Up the stairs, you saw him pacing back and forth by the stairwell, running his hand through his hair and nervously fidgeting with his suit jacket. A smile teased your face. 

“Perhaps we have time for you to de-stress before you have to leave.” You said, climbing the stairs with a suggestive smirk. You reached the top and put your hands on his chest, smoothing out his vest. It was the purple one- your favorite. Henry took your face in his hands and kissed you sweetly, but went no further. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t the time, darling.” He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m expected in less than two hours and I prefer-”

“To be punctual, I know.” You sighed. “I just hate to see you agitated like this. Surely they can’t all be that bad.” 

He chuckled. “No, I suppose not.” He exhaled deeply. “It’s just a painful process, filling a position. Finding a poor soul that’s willing. Turning them.” 

“I’m sure everything will turn out exactly the way it’s meant to.” Your lips pressed into a thin smile, holding back a secret. He twisted a lock of your hair around his finger. 

“I hope you’re right.” You could tell the smile he gave you was forced, but you knew that his troubles would be soothed soon enough. He finished packing his things and with a final kiss, went out into the night. 

You waited for his car to vanish to pull out your cell phone. 

“Is he gone?” Asked the voice on the other end. 

You took a deep, hopeful breath. 

“I’m ready.” 

-

The place of the meeting was decided. A small cottage along the cliffside that had long since been abandoned by its owner. Most people in the nearby town thought it was haunted so they steered clear. It was perfect to assure them a peaceful and productive meeting. At least, that’s what Henry hoped for. 

He, as usual, was the first to arrive. He walked along the cliffs, listening to the endless waves crashing beneath him. The ocean, like him, was eternal. It stretched on into the horizon, steady and sure. Henry looked up at the stars and thought of you. Somehow, in the vastness of his life, he found you. You. In all his years, he’d never felt more at home than he did in your embrace. But he knew his feelings were dangerous. He’d seen enough loss to know how this would turn out. 

So he counted his blessings while he could. 

His secret. That’s what you were to them. The thing they just couldn’t figure out. And he was keen to keep it that way. 

Henry forced you to the back of his mind and went inside. 

It was silent, save for the old boards creaking under his feet. It reminded him of one of those old books he’d read to you- you always liked scary stories around Halloween. The creepy house, the unexpecting victims. Only, Henry knew exactly what awaited him here. 

The Duke was dead. One of his oldest friends, which, of course, was saying a lot. But that didn’t change the fact that he was gone. Killed by one of his own people in an attempt for his territory. It had ripped a rift in their group. Peter wanted to go to war. He didn’t even like The Duke. He just liked violence for the sake of violence. 

Luckily, everyone listened to Henry and Vanessa. They would dispose of the traitors and then they would fill The Duke’s seat when it was finished. That was nearly two months ago. His assassins proved more crafty than they anticipated, but with the promise of The Duke’s territory, Peter was more than happy to take them out. 

Now they just had to fill the vacancy. 

Henry sat at the table and waited. 

You were at the bus stop. You figured it was a better place to be picked up. If Henry stopped back at home, you didn’t want him to see her pulling up. It would ruin everything. But she was late and you were bloody freezing. 

“Are you lost, lass?” A man asked behind you, making you jump. He leaned against the building in shadow, concealing everything but his perfectly tailored suit. “I don’t think there’s any running this time of night.” 

You tilted your head in confusion. 

He motioned to the sign over your head for the bus. 

“Oh, no,” you laughed nervously, “my friend’s picking me up.”

“Odd place.” He stepped forward. He had sharp features, red hair, and eyes that felt like they’d freeze you in place. “It’s dangerous for a pretty woman to be out here in the dark, don’t you think?” 

“Maybe I’m not as helpless as I look.” You tried to sound intimidating, but under his cold stare, you just sounded frightened. 

He chuckled, tossing aside the glowing cigarette in his hand. “Maybe not.” 

Gathering up your courage- and maybe a little stupidity- you held your head high and pushed your shoulders back. 

“Listen, can I help you, or do you do this to every woman you come across on a dark platform?”

The man simply smiled. 

Headlights pulled up beside you, attached to a black car with the window rolled down. 

“Are you ready?” Vanessa asked. 

You nodded, turning back to the man at the stop. 

He was gone. 

“Everything alright, love?” Vanessa turned down the music on her stereo. “Because, if you’re having second thoughts-”

“I’m not,” you said quickly. Holding your bag close to your chest, you found your feet unable to move. You just stood there, staring at her. “I’m not.” 

Vanessa gave you a small smile. “Don’t be afraid, Y/N. Think of it as going home.” 

The tension in you eased, but only a little. You gave her a short nod and forced yourself to move. 

Vanessa turned the music back up. 

-

The others trickled in as they usually did. Alice with her innocent look of the crocheting grandmother. Henry always found it ironic that she was probably the brutalist of them all. Well, maybe not Peter. Angel was next. Then Seba. 

Seba was the newest of the group. He was voted in after a rather tense night of evading the British Army. Peter had originally opposed, but after the kid helped them escape, everyone agreed to enter him amongst their ranks. 

Henry remembered that night with an ache in his unbeating heart. He remembered how he thought he’d never see you again and how you would never know what happened to him. He remembered being terrified of leaving you alone in this world. You didn’t have anyone else, just like him. 

“How’s it going?” Sebastian asked, still giving his wary looks towards Alice and her knitting needles. Even after a year, he was still quite skittish about all of this. 

Henry gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “How have you been? Are you settling into your territory?” 

Seba shrugged. “No complaints yet.” 

“I find it’s harder for them to complain when they’re dead,” Alice said, not looking up from her knitting. 

“If we could kill anyone who bitched and moaned about something, we wouldn’t be sticking to our quotas, now would we?” Angel teased. 

Seba swallowed. Taking after Henry, he didn’t feed off of humans- well, unless they were freaky cannibals like the Thatchers. He didn’t have as many qualms to getting rid of them. 

Peter arrived next with his usual air of frustrating arrogance. 

“Vanessa’s on her way,” he said, taking his seat at the table. “Looks like she’s picked a pretty one.” 

Henry turned away. 

“So, what are the other orders of business we can make up before she gets here?” Seba asked, trying to lighten the clean tension between everyone. 

“I thought you told him we take these meetings seriously,” Chen said. “We only meet every fifty years.”

“I know, I know.” Henry gave Sebastian an exasperated look. “Sebastian, please.” He held up his hands. “Sorry. Just thought you all seem so intense and all.” 

“Immortality is intense,” Peter snarled. 

Angel grinned. “So is feeling the blood drain out of your victim as they slowly stop shaking.”

Everyone slowly turned and looked at her. 

“What?” 

Alice patted her hand. “That’s nice, dear.” 

Outside, the familiar rumbling of an engine signaled Vanessa’s arrival. Henry glanced around the room, at the two empty seats across from him. One for Vanessa and the other… 

Damn the Council and their rules. 

He ran a hand down his face and reminded himself that, in a few short hours, he’d be back home with you, wrapping your sleeping form in his arms until you woke for work. 

Only, he didn’t have to wait that long. 

“Sorry I’m late everyone,” Vanessa announced, her bright smile lighting up the room- at least for Henry. It was often he was able to see his friend. “But I had to pick up our new friend.” 

If Henry’s heart could have stopped twice, it would have. 

You stepped into the room. 

Time stopped. 

Time, that wretched, meaningless thing to him, suddenly meant everything. Everything around him froze and all he could see was that first time you smiled at him. 

You avoided his eye, choosing instead to glance around the table. The man from the bus stop was there, grinning at you with the same predatory look as before, his eyes blazing more than his fiery hair. The others were all like Henry described them. Chen, Alice, Sebastian, Angel- they all watched you with a deep curiosity and even a little hunger. 

“Hello,” you managed to greet, sounding weaker than you would have liked. 

Henry stood up so quickly, that his chair fell over. 

“No,” he said. 

Everyone turned to him. 

“Is that your vote already?” Angel asked. 

“There isn’t going to be a vote.” His eyes finally met yours. They flared in the dark, circles of light that always seemed to stare right through you. “It isn’t her.” 

“Henry, dear, let’s talk about this-” Vanessa said. 

“You knew?” He snapped. 

She clamped her mouth shut. 

You stepped towards him. “Henry-”

“Don’t.” His voice turned into a growl, like that of a scared animal. “You need to leave, now.”

You had expected this. You knew he would fight it. But you also knew he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Slowly, you shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere, Henry.” 

As you stared each other down, the rest of the group sat in awaiting silence. 

Then, Peter started to laugh. It was a harsh sound. Cruel. He looked at the pain in Henry’s face and enjoyed it. 

“Oh, what a sad, stupid sap you are, Henry,” he said. “So this is why you don’t feed on humans? Because you’re shagging one?” 

“Very classy, Peter,” Vanessa scolded. 

He ignored her. “I can’t say I blame you. She’s certainly got the stuff, even for a human.” His eyes raked over you tauntingly. 

Henry’s fists clenched at his sides and he resisted the urge to leap across the table. 

“Henry,” Angel said, “is that true?”

The panic was clear on his face, enough to answer her question. 

“Oh dear,” Alice said. 

“Damnit, Henry.” Angel shook her head. 

“I thought you were the smart one,” Chen added. 

“I say we start the vote then,” Peter laughed. “This is going to be fun.” 

“Let me talk to her first,” Henry pleaded. 

“Why, so you can convince her to run along home?” Peter shook his head. “I’d rather watch you squirm now.”

“Let him talk to her,” Vanessa said. 

You shot her a look. 

She laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Give him some time.” 

Henry was across the room in seconds. He took hold of your arm and yanked you into the other room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

You’d seen him angry before. When he found out about a vampire killing in his territory, when Peter tried to take more than he was allowed when the darkness of the world just wouldn’t end. 

This wasn’t that. This was a silent, seething frustration. More than that, it was pure fear. The strongest person you knew and he was desperately afraid. 

“Before you say anything,” you started, trying not to shrink under his hard stare, “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That does very little to help your case, Y/N,” he said. His voice was too calm. 

“I knew that you would stop me before I could even leave the house, so I went to Vanessa and-”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He took a shaking breath. “Do you know what this means?” 

You nodded slowly. “Either you vote to turn me…”

“Or they’ll kill you.” Henry pulled a chair in front of the door and sat down. His shoulders slumped forward, weighed down by a decision that was now his to make. 

You had already made your choice. 

“Henry,” you whispered gently, kneeling in front of him. “This is what I want.” 

“How?” His voice cracked. “How can you be so willing to throw away your life? How can you be so willing to become a-”

You laid a hand on his cheek. “You are not a monster, Henry.” 

He leaned into your touch in spite of himself. 

“And a life with you is far from thrown away.” You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. He didn’t pull away, instead, his lips against yours were sure and sweet. 

“Please don’t do this,” he said, forehead pressed against yours. 

“Are you afraid you won’t feel the same way about me?” 

That was your biggest fear in all of this. Not the bite, not the death or the blood. You were terrified he wouldn't love you when you weren’t human anymore. 

Henry pulled away. 

“How can you think that?” Henry wrapped his arms around you, cradling the back of your head in his hand. “Y/N, I will love you until the cliffs crumble to nothing. Until time itself runs out, and then after.” He kissed your forehead. “I promise you, it isn’t that.” 

“Then what, Henry?” You asked. “I don’t have anyone to stay for. I don’t have a life outside of this. I only have you and Vanessa. The human world has rejected me. Maybe if I had more time…” You bit your lip to stop yourself. 

He saw right through it. He always did. 

“What do you mean?” Henry moved his hands to cup your face, his eyes searching yours. “What do you mean, if you had more time?”

“I’m sick, love.” It barely came out as a whisper, unable to admit it to yourself, let alone to him. 

His heart broke right before your eyes. 

“Why did you tell me?” He cried. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Blinking back tears, you gave him a small smile. 

Henry laughed humorlessly. “So you do this instead?” 

“I suppose it isn’t the soundest logic.” 

A lightness returned between you and he wrapped you in an embrace, memorizing the feeling of your heartbeat pressed against his chest. 

“Does this mean you accept?” You asked. 

“I don’t accept any of this, darling,” he said sadly. “But I won’t stop you.” Pulling away again, all of the love and devotion in his gaze made your chest ache. “Are you sure you’re ready to spend forever with me?”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “More sure of anything in my life.” 

He took a breath and stood, lifting you with him. 

You opened the door. 

The two of you returned to the table, you sitting in the empty chair between Henry and Vanessa. 

Vanessa gave you an encouraging nod. 

“The Council won’t like this,” Chen said. 

“The Council won’t care,” Vanessa argued. “As long as there’s eight of us, they don’t need to know where the last one came from, or how much she knew before she turned.”

Peter clapped slowly, staring at you from across the table. 

“So Henry gets to keep his little lover forever, hm?” 

“Peter, dear, don’t be petty,” Vanessa said. 

“Why should we vote for her?” He asked. “What couldn’t she possibly bring to us?”

“What reason do you have not to?” Angel asked. “Other than being a prick?” 

He opened his mouth to argue, but Henry stopped him. 

“Peter,” he begged, “please.” 

Peter, in a moment of generosity so rare for him, stopped talking. 

“Alright,” Vanessa said, standing. “I suppose that means we should vote.” 

Henry took your hand.

“All those in favor of Y/N joining us?” She raised a hand. 

Henry closed his eyes and raised his hand. 

Sebastian followed, leaning over to you. “It’ll be nice to have someone newer than me. I say yay.” 

Then Angel. 

Then Alice.

Chen. 

All eyes were on Peter. 

The red-haired vampire glowered. 

A beat. 

Henry’s hold tightened.

“Fine,” Peter said. He raised his hand. 

Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief. “All those opposed?”

The room remained still. 

“Excellent.” She turned to you. “Welcome to the family, dear.” Vanessa glanced over at Henry. “I suppose you should do the honors, eh Henry?” 

Peter laughed. “This ought to be good.”

“I’ll do it,” Henry said, almost defiantly. 

He stood, gently urging you up with him. Henry took everything in one more time, from your warmth to the color in your cheeks. But you were right. 

All you had was each other. 

“Are you ready?” He asked. 

You smiled and pulled him in by his tie for one more kiss. 

Angel whistled. 

Henry parted from you but kept you as close as possible. He tilted your head to the side. He leaned in. 

“I love you,” he whispered against your neck. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair. “I love you too, Henry. Forever.” 

You closed your eyes as his teeth sunk in. 

[holylulusworld]

Henry Cavill & his roles masterlist

Henry Cavill & his roles masterlist

Contains: 💦 smut   // 💔 angst // 💕 fluff // 🖤 light smut // 🤍 implied smut 🐺 A/B/O

In alphabetic order:

August Walker masterlist

Clark Kent/Superman masterlist

AU!Clark Kent masterlist

Henry Cavill/RPF masterlist

The Witcher Masterlist (Geralt of Rivia)

Sherlock Holmes masterlist

Walter Marshall masterlist

Alpha!Walter Marshall masterlist

AU!Walter Marshall masterlist

[suekeyyyy]

-Perverts of Derry-

✩ IT (2017) ᙭ Oᑕ'Տ✩

𝘉𝘢𝘥 ՏᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: Five "sɪsᴛᴇʀs" ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴅᴇʀʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴇɴ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀᴛs 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦,𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦,𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘺,𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏᴡɴ.

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎᘜՏ: sᴍᴜᴛ, ʙᴀᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀssᴀᴜʟᴛ, ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ʙᴀᴅ ʟᴏɢɪᴄ, ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ, ʀᴀᴘᴇ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴄʟᴏᴡɴs, ғɪʀᴇ.

Ｃｏｍｍｉｎｇ ｓｏ��ｎ...

[megalony]

Painless

This is a Henry Cavill imagine that I'm thinking of making into a series, any feedback would be lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: Henry and (Y/n) have their hands full looking after their kids, especially Toby who has a rare genetic condition where he can't feel or process pain.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Toby- be careful!” (Y/n) remarked as her lips pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms across her chest.

Her eyes focused on the twins who were out on the grass in the back garden, kicking a football between them. They knew the rules but when both sets of ocean blue eyes latched onto her, (Y/n) could feel herself weakening, just a little.

With big, round eyes, Toby looked over at his mum as his smile dropped and turned into a pleading frown. He was silently begging her to let him carry on playing with Levi. He only got to play a mild version of football when Henry was home and he hated being so careful. But Levi promised to go easy and not be so tactile, they were practically playing a toddler's version of football so they were still being safe.

Toby desired to be a normal child more than anything, he wanted to play in the garden and mess around with his twin without having to be watched in case he fell or tripped or something minor happened.

He had always been limited in sports while growing up, he loved to watch the games but when it came to taking part he was strictly told what games he could play and what he was advised to sit and watch. It was hard for Toby to see his friends playing games, especially at school when he couldn't join in in case he hurt himself. They couldn't take even a small risk when his life was already full of complications.

“Be careful.” (Y/n) repeated, a gentle tone to her words as she nodded her head. She didn't want to drag him inside and spoil the fun they seemed to be having. They were both twelve, after all, they had endured a lifetime of living by the rules and being careful, they knew what to do and what not to do.

And even Birdie was enjoying herself, sitting on the grass nearby watching like a mini cheerleader shouting her brothers on.

Toby had a rare genetic disorder, CIPA, something no one in (Y/n) or Henry's family had heard of and something that Levi didn't have. It affected the nerve signals in Toby's body and stopped him from processing or feeling any pain.

He couldn't feel even a tingling sensation if he fell and hit his head or his arm, he didn't know whether he had broken bones after a fall or internal injuries because he could feel nothing but numbess. He couldn't regulate his body temperature because he couldn't feel hot or cold. He couldn't cry, he couldn't sweat because he didn't react to heat, he didn't even get headaches.

It made life hard for all of them.

To have a bath or a shower, Toby had to check the temperature so he didn't scold himself, he had to probe any hot drink he had so he didn't burn his mouth. Every morning, (Y/n) or Henry helped him in his routine of checking his body for a rash or discolouration or sores. He had to take his temperature in case he had a fever, check his eyes in case he scratched them during the night and if they suspected he was ill, they checked his blood pressure too.

His life was made up of cautions because if he got a simple cold or a very bad infection, he would be none the wiser.

If he fell over at school he had to see the nurse because a simple collision could break a bone and he wouldn't know.

(Y/n) couldn't recall the amount of times she had gone to A&E over the years from Toby falling, having a rash, scratching his eyes until they bled or when he was little he would bite his lip and chew through them.

Every minute or so, (Y/n) glanced out the kitchen window to sneak glances on the three of them, just to make sure they were alright. Part of her knew that if something happened, they might come running to her, but the other part knew they also might try and hide it and pretend everything was fine. She didn't know which was worse.

A soft smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips when she heard approaching footsteps padding through the hallway and her eyes immediately landed on Henry.

"Hot flush?" She murmured quietly when her eyes raked in his appearance. He was wearing nothing but his briefs. His long curls were skewed all over his head like hed received an electric shock and his eyes were barely open but when he heard what she said, his teeth flashed in a charming smile.

"Something like that,"

Their house seemed to retain all the heat and soak it up from outside and Henry was like a radiator himself, he didn't need any extra heat or any more layers to trap the heat in.

When he turned his back towards her so he could grab a bottle of juice from the fridge, (Y/n) leaned over and hooked her finger in the waistband of his briefs. She pulled the elastic back before letting it snap back against his arse with a successful twang that resonated through the kitchen, along with his gasp of surprise.

(Y/n) pressed her lips together, trying in vain to supress a giggle when she watched his hands instantly reach for his briefs. He was so used to the twins running past him and shouting 'kegged' while they yanked his pants down and ran off. Any time Henry walked round in either his briefs or just his jogging bottoms, the twins went wild trying to shock him and keg him.

"Oi! Bloody minx." The wild shimmer in his eyes sent (Y/n)'s stomach jumping in delight and she grinned when his arm coiled around her waist. He tugged her back against his bare chest and tilted his head down to nuzzle his face in her hair.

"Did you get some sleep?" (Y/n) leaned her head back in his shoulder so she could smile lazily up at him, shivering when he kissed her. He looked tired. His schedule was messed up recently, evenings were taken up with fitness routines in the gym and nights were spent in rehearsal so he slept in the early hours and into the afternoon as of late.

"A bit, where are the rugrats?"

"All out in the garden."

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Henry's lips trace down the side of her neck and his teeth grazed against her shoulder like he was preparing to take a bite. He set the juice down on the counter and moved both hands to (Y/n)'s hips, squeezing tightly as he turned her in his arms so she was facing him instead.

(Y/n) felt him jump and almost stumble forward into her when Birdie's scream rattled through the house from the garden. (Y/n) knew it was too good to be true, she had glanced at the three of them playing no more than ten minutes ago and they had been fine.

Henry pressed a chaste kiss against (Y/n)'s wet lips before he bypassed her and headed out the back door, feeling her behind him almost glued to his back. The concrete was hot and burning against the soles of his bare feet but he paid it no mind as he jogged out to see what they had all been doing while he had been asleep.

Henry took a moment to scan over the scene, trying to work out what had happened. Levi was standing on the grass, wide-eyed with panic written across his face when he noticed both parents out in the garden who clearly heard the scuffle. But Henry felt his heart jumping into his throat, briefly cutting off his breathing when he looked at Toby and Birdie.

Toby was laid on his side, half on the concrete and his lower half still on the grass and he had Birdie in his arms who was wailing very loudly, clearly having hurt herself somewhere.

Henry thought Toby may have been unconscious or knocked himself out for a moment before he breathed sharply, blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision. He bent down beside the pair of them along with (Y/n) who very carefully pulled Birdie away from Toby before she sat down on the grass to look over the four year old.

Birdie let out a violent sob as she held her hands out to her mother, showing how her palms were scratched and held bits of grit from the pavement.

Trying to be careful, Henry slipped his hands under Toby’s arms so he could slowly sit him up before he scanned him over. He had a sharp cut on his temple from colliding with the concrete with a bang, it didn't look deep enough for a hospital trip but it wasn't exactly a light graze either. Henry rubbed his palms up and down Toby's arms before he rolled his sleeves up to check he had no swelling or marks or scuffs.

He could have jarred his shoulder from the fall or landed on his arm hard enough to do some damage, but it didn't look bad; yet.

“What happened?” Henry asked gently, tilting Toby’s head to either side so he could make sure he had no other injuries.

“Birdie tripped… I grabbed her to stop her from falling but we both went down.”

Toby had reached out for his sister when she started to stumble forward but he couldn’t hold her weight or pull her up in time and he fell down with her. He managed to turn them around so Birdie grazed her hands going down but didn't fall flat on her face. She landed mostly on him causing him to hit his head and his side as he went down, trying to keep her against his chest to stop her from getting hurt.

“Alright, everybody inside. And you're alright?" Henry glanced over at Levi, needing a bit of reassurance that the other twin wasn't hurt and had only witnessed the scuffle.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Up we go, bud." Henry carefully hoisted Toby up and set him down on his feet, keeping hold of him under his armpits when he wobbled unsteadily on his feet.

Toby couldn't get a headache, he'd never had one in his life and he certainly wouldn't feel anything but sick from a fall like that. But his head did feel like it was full of air and there were small dots in front of his eyes that he was used to after a fall.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Henry leaned down and scooped Toby up in case he fell, he didn't look steady enough to walk and he didn't want anymore accidents. Toby was twelve and he was tall and lanky for his age, taking after Henry in that department, so it was awkward for Henry to carry him. He knew Toby wouldn't want to be carried on his dad's hip like Birdie, he was too old for that and it felt awkward to hold him up by his armpits.

Henry settled on looping one arm around Toby's upper chest and hoisting him off his feet that way and a small smile came onto his boy's face when he started to walk them back inside after (Y/n).

"Sit down, bud and we'll take a better look at you." He kicked one of the kitchen chairs out with his heel before he eased Toby down so he could sit and rest for a minute.

"Daddy!" Birdie reached her arms out the moment (Y/n) sat her down on the kitchen counter next to the sink.

Her little wail did wonders in gaining Henry's attention no matter where they were or what they were doing and with a soft smile, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her head multiple times before inspecting her hands and turning on the cold tap. She only had a few graze marks on her palms, once they were clean and had some cream on she would be fine.

She burrowed her head into Henry's chest, wriggling and letting out a few small wails when he took her tiny hands in his large ones and held them under the water to clean the grit off.

“Sshh, it’s okay sweetheart. Let me clean them up Birdie.” Henry hushed, brushing away the flecks of mud and grit from her hands and the small trickles of blood beginning to form from the scratch marks. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head again while (Y/n) leaned around him to grab a tea towel, running it under the water before moving to tend to Toby.

“Do you feel dizzy?” (Y/n) questioned, tilting Toby’s head up so she could start cleaning the blood slowly oozing from the cut.

It was always easier to tend to Toby’s cuts and scrapes because he didn’t flinch. No pain meant it was easier to patch him up, he could sit still whereas with Levi or Birdie they wriggled away in pain like Birdie was doing now with Henry. Toby slowly nodded his head as he watched his mum grab the box from the cupboard containing plasters, wipes, paracetamol and such.

(Y/n) opened an antiseptic wipe and started cleaning Toby’s cut, both of them noticing how Henry was having a hard time trying to do the same with Birdie who was wailing at the feeling of her cuts being cleaned.

When he was done, Henry picked Birdie up and sat her down on his hip, letting her curl up into his bare chest before he turned to look at the twins. Toby was still being patched up at the table and Levi was stood anxiously in the kitchen doorway, unsure what to do. But he knew by the look in his dad's face that they were about to get some sort of lecture.

“All done. Next time you all want to play football, wait for me or your mum to join or watch.” Henry instructed as he gently cradled Birdie to his chest whose cries were slowly dying down. Her head tucked into his neck as she sniffed, saying nothing as she tried to calm down.

Henry watched Toby’s head turn sharply to look at him, his eyes widening as his face fell. (Y/n) didn’t join in when playing football, it wasn’t one of the games she particularly liked to participate in and they couldn’t always wait around for Henry to come home. Nor could (Y/n) keep an eye on them playing all the time like today, it wasn’t going to work. Henry was practically telling them- or more specifically, Toby- that he couldn’t play unless someone watched him when they were only just beginning to let him do more things and play more on his own.

It was as if he needed a full-time watcher to make sure he was okay but the only person Toby accepted watching over him all the time was Henry. He didn't like anyone else trying to 'keep an eye on him' unless it was his dad.

“Dad it was an accident-”

“Yes, and I don’t want any more accidents happening Toby. You could have knocked yourself out.” Henry wasn’t saying this to be cruel or make Toby feel bad, he just didn’t want the risk of anything else happening. Toby needed to be watched because he may not realise when he was doing something that could hurt himself. He didn’t want them playing out and anything bad happen like this because Toby could have cut his head deeper or fell unconscious.

“I fell catching Birdie, not playing football.” Toby's tone gave away that he was growing angry and upset but his frown only deepened when Henry raised a brow at him.

He didn't like the tone his son was using with him, whether or not he has reason to be angry.

“You fell playing outside when no one was watching so next time someone’s going to watch. It's for your sake.” Henry wasn’t trying to bargain or make a deal, he was setting a rule because he didn’t want to come home and find Toby unconscious or with yet another broken bone. It was to keep him safe.

A deep frown set into Toby's forehead and his lips curved down before he slammed his palm down on the table, causing Birdie to jolt and whimper into Henry's chest.

(Y/n) gave him a certain look with pursed lips but she didn't have to turn around to see the stern look on her husband's face. She could practically feel Henry's emotions radiating through her and when Toby adverted his gaze to the floor, she knew Henry wasn't happy.

"Don't start with me."

"But I can't do anything! Levi gets to play football after school but I don't, I can't even do athletics club. I don't want to be wrapped in bubble wrap!"

Toby didn't have as big a fascination with football like Levi did, he leaned more towards rugby simply because he had watched Henry play rugby all his life and he admired his dad when he played. But he couldn't join in football at school because if he slipped or fell or collided with someone awkwardly, he could end up breaking a bone and going to A&E. And if he fell and didn't tell his parents he could be walking around on a damaged or broken leg and make it worse without realising it.

Athletics was something Toby wanted to try but again, if he fell and didn't land on a crash mat, they could have another problem. And if he played sports and got overheated, his body couldn't sweat to cool him down and he could get a fever or make himself sick so it wasn't worth the risk.

"You can't do school clubs but you come to the gym with me and train, don't you? You're not in bubble wrap, you have to be cautious and you know that. End of subject."

With that, Henry turned and headed towards the living room, ruffling Toby's hair as he passed to try and cool down the situation. He wasn't having this argument, he wasn't doing it anymore.

Toby wasn't wrapped in cotton wool, he had to be cautious. He had to be careful, more than others because if he wasn't he would become ill and no one wanted that. But just because he missed out at school didn't mean he always missed out at home either. Henry took him to the gym with him, just the two of them so they got one to one time. At the gym, Henry could check Toby's temperature, make sure he had appropriate rest so he didn't overheat and show him how to train and lift weights and do small but adequate exercises so he wasn't pushed too hard. It was a good substitute.

(Y/n) leaned over to rub her hand up and down Toby's arm, smiling gently at him. She was sure that if Toby could, he would have been crying by now. Leaning forward, she gently wrapped her arms around him, surprised when he held her back very tightly and burrowed his face into her shoulder.

“Sweetheart, you know you have to be careful… playing games or sports isn’t the best idea for you. Your dad doesn’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.” (Y/n) slowly carded her fingers through Toby’s hair as she heard him huff in response but she knew he understood.

This had been and would continue to be the way Toby’s life went. He would need watching and would have to be careful when he was older, that was just how life was going to be for him. To make it easier, they had to prevent him from doing activities that would cause more harm than good, the more cautious he was the better his life would be and the more he would learn how to take care of himself when he was older.

“I don’t want to be careful.” Toby whispered defiantly.

He wanted to be normal.

He wanted to feel hot and cold, he wanted to cry and scrape his knee or hit his head and feel the pain. He wanted a headache or tummy ache and to feel if food was hot or cold. He wanted to rub his eyes and feel that satisfied itching and know when to stop. His body desired and craved the burning sensation of pain when he fell or the drowsy headaches he saw his family get when they were sick. He could throw up and have a fever and still get up and play video games and dance because he didn't feel the pain or the toll it took on his body.

“That’s not how this works, baby. People have to be careful they don’t hurt themselves, you have to be just the same even if it's for different reasons. Even if you don’t feel yourself getting hurt it will cause damage, we’re just trying to keep you safe.”

It didn’t really matter if Toby didn’t want to be careful, no one really wanted to live a careful life but they did. Others made sure they weren’t reckless when driving a car or didn’t run on a slippery surface or took medication so they didn’t get ill. Toby was careful not to damage his body so he didn’t get internal damage or broken bones and cuts and scrapes.

"Your dad worries about you a lot baby, rules are there so he doesn't have to worry and you stay safe."

[buckyscrystalqueen]

More the Merrier: Part 1

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter

Warnings: Swearing, Polyamory

Word Count: 3,296

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey!” Your identical twin sister, Ashley, called out as she walked out of her barn, with her head tilted to the side and a confused look on her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Greece with Natasha?”

“That was last week.” You called out as you yanked your suitcase from the back of the cab you had had to hire when your ride didn’t show up. “It’s the tenth, dipshit.”

“No it’s not.” She said as she put her hands down at her sides for a second.

“Yea it is.” You hissed as you stopped in front of her and shook your head. “What are you even doing with yourself?”

“I’m pregnant, shut up.” She said as she stepped forward to kiss your cheek before walking around you to head toward the large round ring.

“No, you’re just forgetful.” You pointed out as you turned with her and stepped up onto the round wood beams that created the five foot walls to look at a gorgeous appaloosa mustang that was freaking out in the pen. “Who’s this guy?”

“Bought him at an auction.” She said as she crossed her arms over the top rail with a smile. “I’m gunna gentle him.”

“You’re fucking high!” You barked through a laugh as you looked over at her. “Not while you’re pregnant.” With another glance back at the horse, you sighed and reached out to take training whip out of her hand.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to.”

“Yea, I know I don’t.” You said as you grabbed the strap the horse was dragging and wrapped it around your hand. “Hup! This way. Get!” You shouted loudly as you swished the whip in front of where the horse was going to be to get him to turn around. “Was he wild? That why he’s on a lead?”

“He came to Briar Ridge like that. I just moved the trailer away from the ring when you pulled up.”

“You mean, when you were supposed to be picking me up from the airport?” You teased with a glance over at her before switching the horse’s direction again.

“So how’s the wife?” She asked, purposely changing the subject while scratching her nose with her middle finger.

“Amazing as ever and somehow, she even managed to tan this trip. Oh, you should have seen the yacht Bucky rented us for our anniversary. Absolutely stunning.” Your sister smiled, rested her chin on her arms and let you rant to your heart’s content, since she was the only one in your family who was willing to hear anything about your unconventional lifestyle.

“I just feel like we’re all just to busy to get a dog, you know?” You finished up at the end of almost an hour of trying to break this horse. You turned your back on him and shrugged at your sister. “The boys really want one though, so Nat and I will probably give in.” You were expecting the horse to walk up behind you to join up, but instead, he took a running start and easily cleared the round pen fence. You didn’t see it coming, so you had no chance to drop the rope before it tightened around your wrist and forearm. You were yanked sideways nearly out of your boots, and hit the fence with such force, you were launched over the top of it on to the unforgiving gravel driveway. You scrambled to get your wrist free and swiveled around to get up on your feet like you were water skiing to save your sides from getting even more road rash than they now had.

“Let go of the rope!” Someone shouted beside you.

“I can’t! It’s wrapped!” The man called out to his horse and a couple moments later, you felt him grab you around the waist and lift you off the ground. You landed awkwardly in front of him and he pulled the horse to a stop so he could quickly unwrap it from your wrist. Your body started to shake violently as he passed the rope to someone else and adjusted you on his saddle to bring you back up toward the house.

“Is she OK?!” Ashley shouted as your savior rode up to her side. You tried to look down at her and shook your head as your vision started to tunnel.

“Natasha is going to kill you.”

——

“Natasha, I am fine.” You giggled in Russian, the language you only learned because she slipped into it when she was upset or angry and you needed to learn or get left behind, as you looked at the brace on your wrist as if you were showing her. “I got lucky it was just a sprain…”

“You were dragged by a horse!” She screeched over you. “You could have been killed… no, James, she could have been killed.”

“I could not have been killed, Nat.” You and her husband said at the same time in a vain, because Natasha absolutely ruled the house.

“Natasha, I am fine.” You repeated again as you ran your braced hand through your hair. “I swear it. It looks way worse than it actually is, baby. And if it wasn’t, I would tell you, you know that. So please, stop worrying and enjoy your time in Spain.”

“You swear you’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“I swear it.” You promised as a dark mass caught your eye. You looked over at the man that was looking over to see who was outside, sitting in the dark on the phone at three in the morning. You gave him small, apologetic wave and started to stand to move away from the barn, but he waved you off and stepped back inside. “Sweetheart, please, please go enjoy your day in Madrid. You can see all the damage when we meet at home in a week. Bucky, can you please distract her?”

“Already on it.” He called out a second before she asked ‘Why are you naked… oh.’

“Love you, baby.” You chuckled before hanging up the phone and looking back over at the barn. “You can come out of the shadows now.” You smirked as the shadow you assumed was the man’s head moved forward and confirmed your suspicion.

“Ma’am, I apologize…”

“Don’t worry about it.” You laughed as you pat the spot beside you on the bench outside the office door. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I don’t sleep much as is.” He said as he sat down with a shrug. You nodded your head and put your phone down beside you.

“Thank you. For saving me this morning… sorry, I never caught your name…”

“Henry. And it was no trouble at all. Though it was something new to see someone try to ski behind a horse.”

“Oh, I am something special, that’s for sure.” You laughed as you leaned back against the barn to look up at the stars. “Gotta make an entrance.”

“If I may be so bold… what language was that?”

“Oh, Russian. I’m sloppy with it, but it’s my wife’s first language so her husband and I have learned it over the years to keep up with her when she gets angry.” Your smirk grew but you kept looking up at the sky as he looked over at you quizzically.

“Wait, I’m sorry. You said your wife… and her husband?”

“You haven’t met my parents or my sisters yet, have you?” You asked as you finally looked over at him with a smile.

“Only been here a few weeks, ma’am.” With a nod of your head, you glanced up at the main house with a sigh before looking back at him with a shrug.

“I am bisexual. Which my family doesn’t really care about. But six years ago, I met and fell in love with a woman, who happens to be married to a man. They had been married about two years at that point and were already in a polyamorous relationship. So basically we have me, my wife, Natasha, her husband, my partner Bucky, and their partner, Steve in this strange love square of intimacy.”

“OK, I think I am on the same page.”

“Yea, well my parents are not.” You sighed. “My parents are disgusted with the whole idea of polygamy and can’t understand how the hell I could marry someone that cheats on me with not one but two men that I occasionally cheat on her with as well. To them, my marriage, my relationships with my significant others, and my whole living situation in general is a disgusting farce. They tried to write me out of their will and my inheritance, which thankfully for me they couldn’t do the latter. But they turned my brother and sisters against me. Everyone but Ash. Though, she is my identical twin so we have a deeper connection than most.”

“Wow.” He breathed as he searched your eyes. He paused for a moment before a small smile stretched across his cheeks. “Sorry, I have so many questions.”

“I’m here all week.” You laughed as you searched his almost completely blue eyes. “And I love talking about them to anyone willing to listen.”

——

“Good morning favorite sister.” You said, cheerfully as you skipped into her kitchen. “Where’s my favorite brother-in-law?”

“Left for work twenty minutes ago. What’s got you so happy, weirdo?” She asked as you draped your backpack on your chair and headed over to get a cup of coffee.

“Can’t I just be happy to see my sister, hmm?”

“Ha! I don’t believe that for a second.” She laughed as she watched you set your coffee on the table and head for the fridge. “Tom made breakfast you know.”

“I know. I’m just throwing together a trail lunch. Haven’t been riding in forever.” She looked at your back with her eyebrows raised at your current choice of wardrobe.

“So you’re gunna go for a horse back ride in a bikini top and sleep shorts?” Ashley asked, slightly hesitantly as she turned in her chair to watch you throw some scrambled eggs and bacon in a piece of toast.

“Tried putting on jeans and a t-shirt but it hurt like shit so bathing suit it is. Besides, you have that gorgeous lake on your property that I bet is just begging to be swam in.” You took a big bite of your sandwich and hummed in approval before toasting the air with it. “Good food. Don’t worry about cooking, I’m taking us all out tonight. It’s been too long. I’ll be back.” With a kiss on her cheeks, you grabbed your backpack and coffee mug and headed out the front door, only for her to jump to her feet and follow after you as fast as she could.

“(Y/N), you should wait for Tom to take you, we both know you don’t know the trails here very well no matter how much you think do.”

“The lake is like a straight shot through the middle of your property.” You laughed before taking a sip of coffee. “Besides, I have a fancy compass app on my phone now so I can’t possibly get lost.”

“Sissy, I really don’t think this is a good idea. You have a sprained wrist already and your whole side is covered in road rash. Please…”

“Ms. Hiddleston?” You and your sister both stopped to look at Henry and a smile spread across your face. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was about to take Arrow out for his daily ride myself. I could tack up Blaze as well and make sure Ms. (Y/L/N) doesn’t get lost for you.”

“There we go, perfect.” You said as you gestured to him while looking at your sister. “Personal tour guide. That work?”

“Fine.” She sighed in defeat. “I have a bunch of stuff I need to do in the office so I won’t be much fun until this afternoon anyways.”

“So then it’s settled.” You said as you looked over at Henry with a smile. “Grab a bathing suit and I’ll start with the blankets.” Your sister sighed in defeat and walked back up to the house to finish getting ready for her day, while you and Henry got ready for your ride. When you finally got settled on the back of the brown stallion, you glanced over at your guide with a smirk. “You can ask your questions, Henry. I don’t bite unless you ask me to.”

“How does it work?” He spit out rather quickly. “Like… sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry.” You giggled as you pulled at the leg of your shorts so they sat more comfortably. “It’s not complicated, but it is a little bit complicated. But there is also no real specific way about it.”

“Because that’s not confusing.” He chuckled as he looked over at your adorable smile.

“OK, so I’ll try to keep it simple. So in our poly relationship, the way we do it is by rotation that gets disrupted on a regular basis. One night it’s same sex night, the next it’s the three of them and I’m alone, then it’s Nat, Bucky and I and Steve’s alone. Then Nat and Bucky take their night and Steve and I are alone because we don’t have any romantic chemistry and that’s OK. After that it’s Bucky and I and Steve and Nat, then all four, then there’s a general “give me space, damn it” night and we start over again.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s not that bad.” You laughed as you wrested your braced wrist on the saddle horn. “And like I said, we really don’t stick to that schedule at all. The boys work a lot, and Natasha is an heiress like me and loves to travel as much as I do, so we do spend a lot more time together than we do with the boys. But that’s also because Steve and Bucky are high school sweethearts even though Steve stayed in the closet until after Natasha and Bucky got married… that one’s complicated and also not my story to really tell. So if you stick around long enough, you’ll hear about it.”

“So… well… OK, I’ll just come out with it. I’m sort of bi. I prefer women but I have found a man or two attractive in my time and there was a drunken night in University with a mate. But I prefer women…”

“And that’s OK…”

“So what happens if I give in to the feeling of liking you as much as I do just from our conversation this morning?” He said over you, making your smile grow. “What happens…”

“Then we start dating, sweetheart.” You giggled as you stopped beside the lake. “Simple as that. And we all as a family, can all figure out boundaries where we need to. We’ve made the same accommodation to Steve and the woman he’s currently seeing, who chooses to remain outside the family completely. And we can make that same accommodation here, if that’s what you’re interested in. But I will say, being part of our family is something quite spectacular.”

“But end of the day, I will always have to share you in some capacity.” He said as he looked at the back of Blaze’s neck.

“Yea sweetheart. You will.” He nodded his head slowly as he thought about what you said, and looked over at you as you got off Arrow to enjoy your day.

“Can we just see where this goes for now?” He asked as he jumped down beside you and took the reins from your hand. “See if we actually like each other first before we bring your family into it?” You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“That’s the best part, ain’t it?”

——

You were sound asleep in Henry’s barn loft bed, naked and freshly fucked, when your phone started ringing on his bedside table. With a groan from each of you, he grabbed the device for you, handed it to you, and then wrapped his arms and legs around you like an octopus. You huffed as you answered the FaceTime call. 

“You made it home?” You asked groggily as you squinted at the screen. Bucky paused as he looked at you and then the hairy chest that was your background.

“What are you doing, ma’am?” He teased, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Oh, bite me.” You giggled as you looked at yourself in the little box that showed your camera’s angle.

“Looks like I’m too late on that one, sweetheart.” Natasha laughed as she turned Bucky’s hand so she could see as well, letting you see more of her bedroom at home. “Is that a hickey?”

“Grow up.” You grumbled as Henry slid his hand up your chest to cover the love bites he left on your neck. Your partners both ‘awed’ at you, which made you roll your eyes before Natasha spoke again.

“Yes, solnyshka. We made it home. Want us to let you go?”

“You’re fine.” Henry grumbled in your ear before he buried his face in your hair. You smiled, dreamily and barely shook your head.

“It’s alright. How was the flight?”

“Not as eventful as your night.” Bucky teased, causing Natasha to lightly backhand his chest with a small scowl.

“Be nice.” She scolded before taking the phone out of his hand, but leaving it to where he can still see. “I take it this is Henry?”

“This is Henry.” You confirmed as you held the phone up a bit so she could see his profile as he hid from the light of your phone screen in your hair. “Say hi.” You watched his eye crack open and he looked up at the phone screen as he mumbled “hey” before hiding again.

“He’s cute.” Nat mouthed as you put the phone back in front of you on the pillow while Henry’s thumb started absentmindedly tracing the column of your neck. You nodded in agreement.

“So we were talking about it.” You informed your partners as your free hand reached down to brush across the one Henry had slung around your waist. “Henry’s going to come back with me for a few days to meet everyone and see if we all vibe.”

“That’s perfect.” Nat said with a genuine smile. “Just remember, we have that charity auction the night after you get back so make sure he has a suit packed. I already talked to Cheyenne about getting us gowns.”

“Shit, I completely forgot about that.” Bucky said as he laid down in bed more to get comfortable to sleep.

“It’s on the calendar.” You and Nat reminded him simultaneously. 

“Where’s Steve tonight?”

“With Sharon.” Nat said as a dark look flashed in her eyes. Your brow furrowed as she muttered something in Russian you couldn’t understand before the look was just gone. “He’ll be home tomorrow night though so…”

“Gotcha.” You confirmed with a giant yawn. “Alright, I’m going back to bed. Love you both.”

“Love you, too, solnyshka.” Nat cooed before she blew you a kiss. You sent an air kiss right back just before she hung up the phone. With a sigh, you dropped the device on your pillow and snuggled back into Henry.

“Whats the word she called you?” He asked as he tightened his hold on you and moved his hand from your throat to around your upper chest.

“It translates to sunshine.” You breathed as you laced your fingers with his on your shoulder.

“Got it.” With a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade, he pulled you impossibly closer and within moments was back asleep. A smile stretched across your face as you closed your eyes, and within a minute, you were back asleep as well.

Part 2

[frickingnerd]

childhood friends to lovers with henry

pairing: henry x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, angst (seperation & reunion), orphan!reader, spoiler for henry's backstory, mentions of murder, happy ending

henry and you grew up in the same orphanage, only having each other to turn to

henry was always there to protect you from mean kids from the orphanage, often through rather cruel and violent ways

but nobody dared mess with you anymore, knowing that you were with henry! 

and while henry had some violent tendencies, you always balanced him out, making sure he never went too far

the two of you were inseparable, always doing everything together, until that one unfortunate day, where you couldn't stop henry from going too far… 

after someone hurt his beloved animals, he ended up killing everyone in that orphanage, except you! 

henry would never hurt you…

after that day, you two went your separate ways, with you being brought to a new orphanage

you only found out what happened to henry when you met him again several years later in plegia, working for one the armies there

while both of you had changed over the years, your feelings never had

henry was still fond of you, but over the years he had acquired some confidence, which allowed him to finally confess to you! 

[sigmxnd]

new mooties come get your food, i brought panda express (superior fast food idec)

this might be ooc but the best ones always are so if you don't like it then just don't read cause i'll cry if i get even a single hate comment

(psst @knyontop @brandonsbloggs)

[imnotagaslighter]

Chapter One: Sly as a Snake

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Tread carefully this will be a dark!fic Please DNI if you're not 18 or older

Blood, Graphic, Minor Character Deaths, Age Gap, Lloyd Hansen being creepy, Hints of Grooming (?)

I was going to do a cute little preview but I just thought why not just post a whole chapter as a preview!! I hope you guys enjoy ;).

It didn’t take long for the gala-themed party to be halted but that’s because who wouldn’t want to? A party that held all of the families under one luxurious, (and in your opinion very flamboyant) mansion. It wasn’t until a very loud breach from the main entrance took your attention away from the attendees in front of you.

You and maybe the rest of the families at the party stood in confusion and shock as men in tactical gear rushed through the main banquet hall firing automatic weapons into the air and at random important heads of different gang families. That’s when screams and weapons began to go toe to toe on who could be the loudest. It didn’t make it any better that you had lost your brother and parents within the crowds that were moving in different directions trying to dodge the bullets.

Your heart was slightly racing as you felt yourself being pushed by the various people trying to run out of the hall and hopefully find an exit, but your mind had other ideas. Moving towards the wall you’d slip into a room before closing the door behind yourself and slouching down onto the opposite wall of the door. Your hands were shaking as you tried to regain your composure, it didn’t make it any better that you were wearing a floor-length dress accompanied by heels that were not ideal for running.

Another round of shots rang out into the air before holes started to appear on the wall and you’d quickly roll onto the stomach hoping none of the shots were aimed toward the floor. Knowing you’d have to think (and move) quickly you began to untie the laced-up heels and kick them off before looking around, you were in the preparation kitchen so it wouldn’t be hard to find something to cut the dress. Your right hand instinctively reached up to your inner right thigh to find your gun still holstered there and you pulled it out. Sliding the mag out of the barrel you saw the clip was full and of course, you didn’t bring an extra clip because you just wouldn’t think someone would have it out for the families so bad to the point where they’d target all of the families under one roof. Which you couldn’t help to admit was smart but very ballsy and you couldn’t help to figure out who was the mind behind all of this terror.

Finding a chef’s knife you held it just above the knee of your dress and you’d hesitate, hating the fact that you’d have to ruin such a beautiful (and rather expensive) dress but you had to get out and find your parents. You’d attempt to cut through the fabric and it was louder than usual meaning outside was quiet and you’d stop quickly to listen.

“I heard something in the kitchen. You three go in there and see what it is” You heard an oddly familiar voice before you looked around for a place to exit and the only thing you could think of was the dumbwaiter on the other side of the room. You knew you couldn’t make it over there in time so you’d finish ripping the dress apart grab the knife and scurry across the floor toward an empty shelf and you’d bring your knees to your chest and turn the safety to your gun off.

Three men in tactical gear breached through the door and looked around slowly as they proceeded further into the room picked up the fabric of the dress and saw the heels.

“Boss, someone was in here and ditched their clothes.” One of them yelled back before looking around the room. You were praying that they couldn’t see your legs but you knew sooner or later you would have to make a move.

‘Well, Fucking find the naked bitch before I have to come in there and do the job myself!’ You heard the ever-familiar voice shout back.

“Come on, she couldn’t have gotten far in here, there’s no exit.” One of the soldiers said as he turned around and closed the door to check if there was a body behind them. You knew if you used your gun it would draw more attention to yourself and you didn’t have enough bullets to fight the whole army that was outside of the kitchen so you knew whatever move you’d make would have to be with the knife that was thankfully still in your hand.

Moving from out of the shelf you’d tiptoe over to the guard that was near the door and you’d slam the knife down into his neck and cover his mouth so he wouldn’t make noise to alert the other two in the kitchen with you, you were lucky the industrial and professional kitchen was set up in aisles so they couldn’t see your body unless they walked around. 

The soldier struggled, voice gurgling under your hand as you strained to move the man to his knees so that when he toppled over it wouldn’t be as hard, and he finally gave out, his body went limp as you pulled the knife out, blood squirting on your face before moving to the other two. As long as you could get to them before they circled back to the door it would be okay in a sense.

Your feet move behind each other in a cat-like motion and you see the second assailant checking under shelves and the third one is moving pots and pans around making enough noise for you to make your play. You take that opportunity to run up to him and proceed to shank him around 7 times, groans leaving his mouth before he falls back blood pooling around him and soaking your feet. You’d feel the cold wet sensation and would mentally roll your eyes at the situation before throwing your knife at the last person’s head and he’d topple over. Hearing the kitchen still, you’d hear the conversation going on outside between the familiar voice and you’d move over to the door and listen in.

‘Jesus fucking Christ! What’s taking these doofuses so long to find the whore?’ The man would ask impatiently as you’d hear the chamber of the unknown person’s gun slide back and you’d move towards one of the ARs the dead person had and you’d take the mags that came with it and move into the bellhopper. You slid the door up, slipping into the tight box and your arm reached out to hit the up button, and almost as soon as you closed the sliding door for the bell hopper you heard the door to the kitchen being kicked open.

‘What the fuck?! You know what?’ The person would chuckle ever so slightly before you heard his echoing footsteps approach the bell hopper which made you nervous because if it was still moving by the time he opened the door he’d know you were in there.

‘I gotcha you little bitch’

-

2 Months Prior

‘You know it wouldn’t be all that bad if you would just put your pride aside and just go on the date Your twin brother would say as your hazel eyes glared across the longer dinner table where you’d be eating breakfast.

There wasn’t much to this schedule it was something new where your mother would accompany you and your brother at breakfast. She sat near the head silently chuckling at the banter the two of you always managed to find yourselves in while she was eating a crepe with a bowl of fresh fruit from her garden.

‘Y’know what, Kaleb? If you want me to meet this man so bad..’ You had emphasized before grabbing your napkin and placing it in your lap. ‘How about you take my place and go on the date with him’ You’d offer the new opportunity and Kaleb looked at you with a rather contorted face before your mother’s laugh was a little more noticeable and Kaleb’s head snapped in her direction before you continued with your pancakes.

‘Oh so the first time in ages that our mother comes down here and one of the first things she does is patronize me because I’m trying to help my sister secure a husband since she’d freshly out of finishing school’ Kaleb would say before you’d shake your head in protest.

‘Kaleb, I simply don’t want a husband for now, and until father says anything about it I don’t think it is necessary as of now.’

‘But, Y/N you have men from families all over practically throwing their sons at your feet every gala we attend. Don’t you think you’re being a little pretentious?’ Kaleb would ask as you gave him a deadpan look. We sat in a very lavish dining room of a 10-bedroom mansion near the oceanside, our father was the head of a great mob family and he thought you were only being a little pretentious was a stretch.

‘Look at how we were raised, Kaleb then ask yourself why I’m being a little pretentious’ 

A soft clearing of a throat had brought your attention to the entrance of the doorway and you’d see your father, donning something other than a suit. He was wearing grey slacks and a white button-down.

‘Isn’t it nice to see my family down here eating together?’ your father would ask before reaching down to kiss your forehead and walking around to grab Kaleb’s shoulders.

‘I suppose it is Dad, which means you have something you need to tell us.’ You’d say eyeing the man and he could only chuckle.

‘Well you are my daughter and there’s no denying that, but nothing too much out of the ordinary. The Solos will be accompanying us to dinner this evening though. Jacoby and I have some business to discuss so I trust you three will be more than entertaining to our guests’ Your father, Issac Beckett would say and you would purse your lips together acknowledging that that was the conversation he was meaning to have. It was rare that your family held company though but it was understandable as to why.

Within the past 4 months, you’ve attended 7 funerals, each one of them had Beckett as their last name, you weren’t sure if the family was being targeted by an outsider but whoever it was was indeed trying to get within the immediate family. It hasn’t been easy for them though because your father’s long-time friend and right-hand man, Lysander Reed, and Luitenant Lloyd Hansen have kept the mansion and its grounds secure. Of course, with someone like Issac Beckett, there would be a lot of enemies made and that’s why he has allies like the Solo family. They still weren’t able to pinpoint a motive or who could be the mastermind behind all of these family murders but since the third one, your father had pulled you from your etiquette academy to ensure your safety and made sure all of the immediate family was under one roof which you guessed wasn’t so bad.

Your mother, Ceanna (pronounced Sienna) was more than ecstatic to see her children under one roof again. Your brother, Kaleb had left off to finish his studies to one day prepare to take over the reigns of the family’s name. But you, you were a different case, a special case.

You’ve protested for years to be more than someone’s wife and bearer of fruitful children. To be more than someone’s arm candy and despite your parent’s disapproval you were enrolled into multiple academies to broaden your skillset, being taught by Lysander how to fight, handle a gun, and be able to hold yourself to those bigger than you, and you proved them to be more than proficient - A prodigy Lloyd would say as he’d spar with you on occasion. Once you felt you were proficient enough your father enrolled you in finishing school where you learned etiquette and social cues to enter society as a woman fit to be a loving wife and also as sly and deadly as a snake.

Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail as you looked down at your plate and continued to eat your breakfast, pancakes, and eggs which were growing soggy from the amount of syrup you piled onto the plate. 

‘The Solos are the ones with the son, right my love?’ Your mother, Ceanna would ask as your father nodded and moved over towards his wife, planting a kiss on his cheek before sitting down at the head of the table.

‘Yes, Napoleon is their only son. A little older but that still shouldn’t be a problem for our children, right?’ 

‘Leon? I haven’t seen him since we were both in school. Don’t worry I’m sure we can catch up.’

‘As long as you don’t auction me off as a wife to him’ You’d mutter while eating your food and your dad would belt out a laugh while Lysander would make his way into the room saying his greetings to everyone. Lysander had been there long before you and Kaleb were born so on occasion if you didn’t refer to him as Lys, uncle was for mere private times behind the walls of their home which Lysander didn’t mind coming from the twins, he was there for everything and within Issac’s will if anything were to happen to him and Ceanna while the twins were under 25 Lysander would be their ward and be the right hand for Kaleb.

‘I’m sure Napoleon wouldn’t meet your father’s expectations for your husband anyways, Y/N’ Lysander would say before you made a small victory cheer in your head. You hadn’t heard much about this Napoleon character but that’s because your father tends to leave you and your mother out of mob business and she doesn’t mind, but you? Oh, you made it a problem that you were left out of meetings, wanting to know the ins and the outs of the business and how to run it. Your father always says that this path holds no position for a woman, very misogynistic but you weren’t sure on why he would always make that statement.

‘The boy is far too into his bachelor lifestyle to settle down now, especially when there’s no sign of Caspian kicking the bucket over any time soon.’ Your dad would say before Lysander leaned over to whisper something in your dad’s ear and he’d nod.

‘Change of plans, they’ll be coming over for a late lunch and dinner, Y/N I trust you won’t be wearing that?’ Your dad would ask referring to your current pajamas which were an oversized plain black shirt and black and grey flannel shorts.

‘Jesus Dad, I just woke up.’ You’d say defensively before stabbing your fork in the remainder of the pancakes shoving it in your mouth and standing up from the table.

‘Since it’s that much of a problem I will go shower and put on clothes.’

‘Appropriate clothes, Y/N. We will be having guests’ Your Dad responded not looking up from the newspaper that was now in his hand. Your eyes narrowed before you took the glass of orange juice with you and turned on your heels to head out of the dining room.

‘Can I invite Elise and Arabelle?’ You’d ask quickly turning around and your dad matched your narrow eyes but yours instantly turned into pleading eyes.

‘Dad! Kaleb and Napoleon will be in each other's faces the whole time! I’ll make sure they’ll leave before dinner. I promise’ You pleaded before your father looked down at the gold watch before looking over to Lysander.

‘Y/N does have a point, Issac. Lloyd is still on the grounds as well.’ Lysander would say attempting to help your case while sending a wink your way and with a long sigh coming from your father he’d place the newspaper down.

‘See to it that the pool is prepared for the girls and the pool house. Have the chef prepare lunch for them as well.’ Your father reluctantly said before you started cheesing and heading over towards your old man and kissed him on his cheek as well as Lysander’s and you scurried away before he had the chance to change his mind.

Pulling your phone out from your waistband you’d open up the group chat that had you, Elise, and Arabelle in it before sending a single pool emoji with a question mark.

Elise: Uh, Duh!

Arabelle: We’ll be there in 30!

Successfully making plans to occupy yourself you’d scurry to the stairs running past Lloyd and he’d eye you.

‘Why are you running like you've seen a ghost princess?’ Lloyd would say while shooing the other guards away and you’d turn at the first step to face him. It wasn’t a bad age gap between you two, maybe 10 or 12 years? His profession aged him more than he was. The mid-30s weren’t bad for him.

‘Dad let me invite the girls over so I’m trying to get ready before he changes his mind’ 

‘He must be in a good mood, well I won’t hold you up. You look gorgeous this morning by the way.’ He’d say but it went over your head, ever since he’d started working for your dad around 4 years ago he’d always been the one to compliment you. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Giving him a small smile you’d hand him your almost finished glass of orange juice.

‘Thanks Lloyd! Do you mind putting that in the sink please?’ You’d asked before racing up the steps on your hands and knees

‘Anything for you princess.’ Lloyd would whisper low enough only for him to hear before finishing off the orange juice and licking his bottom lip before heading to the kitchen.

[sunny-speaks]

First Kiss

Characters: Henry Morgan (@homecomingvn) x Reader

Pov: you’re just chillin’ with your good buddie Henry, your best friend. One you may have had like a tiny little crush on… You’re whining about how you haven’t had your first kiss, complaining on and on about all these hopeless guys who’ve never liked you back.(Am I indulging myself? Ofc i am) or relationships you couldn’t pursue because you had academic pressure on your back? (ok now im totally projecting)

Fic under the cut! Have a good time reading !!

You were sprawled out on Henry’s bed, whining about how post-secondary school was kicking your ass, how life was kicking your ass, a lot of things that were kicking your ass. To be fair, adulthood seemed much better in YA novels and shows compared to… ugh, reality. Honestly, why do they produce such bullshit to make it seem fun?

“Buttercup, I’m sure things’ll get better for you! Just give it some time, mhm?” Henry added on while you noticed you had grumbled that last line of thought out loud. They then turned all his attention back to his FNAF game before you let out a wistful sigh.

“At least they make it seem so… rose-tinted. What I would do to actually have a love life, I swear to God.” You combed your hands through your hair, the summer heat making you perspire more on your friend’s bedsheets as you groaned at the thought. “Dude, I can’t believe I’m this old and I still haven’t had my first kiss. God, what am I even waiting for at this point…?” You dejectedly mumbled the last part to yourself.

Henry, albeit barely noticeable, perked up at the word ‘first kiss.’ They could hear the discouragement in your voice, ears picking up on that last note. “Well, guess we’re both hopeless romantics then…” 

“I don’t know, I’ve always thought that there’d be this great guy waiting for me when I got old enough. He’d want nothing more than to be the best partner, and he’d just sing my praises. I know it’s kind of…” You flushed a little at your wording, “Self-serving. I know you care about me and all! But it’d be nice to have someone care about me romantically. Ugh, my expectations are too high, aren’t they?” You sat back up, legs dangling off the edge of the mattress, hands fiddled with in your lap.

Were you being too obvious on what you were trying to signal him? You wanted a partner, a boyfriend even, and your best friend would be so perfect and you really wanted him to at least reject you and give you closure rather than drag this out. But if things turned out positively? Well, that’d just be a cherry on top.

He totally wasn’t your first friend and first love. Totally not the only one who you would never outwardly confess to without prompting. Totally not the one that you’ve loved since childhood.Totally not the one who made all your past loves pale in comparison. Totally not th―! You were getting distracted.

“Yeah, don’t think anyone would wanna kiss me…” You muttered to yourself under your breath.

Henry quickly paused his game. He wanted nothing more than to jump out of his seat and say ‘I want to be the best partner! I want to sing your praises! I care about you romantically! If I’m not good enough, you can do anything to fix me! I’ll be whatever you want me to! I’d make sure no one could ever hurt you again! If they did, I’d make them pay suffer rethink their decisions!’ But that would come off a little too desperate. He’s waited years for you.

It wouldn’t kill to wait a little longer.

Well, if only he knew how much you liked him. He was a little… dense when it came to others trying to court him, after all, he never thought that he’d be the object of someone else’s affections. Henry hummed out their reply after some thought, trying to subconsciously hint that there’s someone out there who’d love to be your partner. Even if he didn’t outwardly say it was himself. “I don’t think they’re too high. Maybe there is someone out there perfect for you. Besides, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

You sarcastically chuckled with no malice behind it, “Maybe all the people I’ve liked in the past?”

He opened his mouth, sputtering rebuttals, “Well that’s because they were clearly all blind! They just have no taste! You know what?” He gets out of his chair and stands in front of you, pointing an accusing finger at your window.

“What?” You raised an amused and curious eyebrow at his mild aggression to your past crushes. 

Still gesturing to the window, he referred to your past admirations. “Clearly, they’re just dumb, because I would totally kiss you! And I would enjoy it!” He puffs out his chest in some sort of… pride at his words before realizing what he said. “Uh.” After a single noise from him, his face almost erupts into a bright red. “I- wow, um. I- Yeah, uh…”

As he struggled to mentally compute what he had just said to you, to your face, (oh my god he was going to die from rejection or embarrassment or even both, ahhh―) and how you were gonna react, you were in our own world.

Everything going through your brain was a disorganized chaos alarm that had only one cohesive thought.

Which was to shut up his mumbling by kissing him.

And so, that’s what you did. No fear, no hesitation, no consequences. You snaked your hand up to the back of his neck, feeling a couple of goosebumps. You gave him chances to pull away as you drew your heads closer together. Your fingers entwined themselves into strands of his golden hair, nails gently raking his scalp.

Fuck, you left him breathless. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and he swore his heart stopped for that solid second. The question ‘Is this okay?’ was left unsaid, but not unheard when he gave you a shaky whine in response, “Please, yes…” was muttered from the pretty lips of his. Pretty lips that you were about to kiss.

It was inexperienced and a little awkward at first, teeth clacking against each other awkwardly as you both got a feel for what you were trying to do. It was chaste as you pulled away rather quickly to see a very flushed Henry begin to open his eyes that were closed to soak up all the pleasure before you went back in for another, his eyes fluttering wide in surprise.

“Hhn—?” You pulled on his scalp a little, tilting your head to the side so you could slot your mouths together a bit more easily. He jolted a little before slowly hovering his arms around your waist before deciding to settle them there. He keened and pulled you closer to him until there was barely any space between the two of you.

Of course, oxygen was, unfortunately, necessary for one to survive and that need had caused you to pull away from him. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, as you drank up the sight of a dazed Henry who looked back at you with reverent eyes, clearly more than interested in continuing kissing you.

You soaked up all the attention before gently booping him on the nose, “You enjoy that enough?” You gave him a small teasing grin, regardless of your internal panic over how that was your first kiss, with the first guy you’d been friends with, with the first guy you ever really loved like that. God, maybe YA shows weren’t bullshit?

He stammered, light puffs of air passed through his mouth as his eyes darted everywhere except towards yours.

You weren’t that bad at kissing… you hoped. “Was I so good at kissing you that I took your breath away?” You instantly cringed at your words as they slipped out of your mouth. Why did that seem so cheesy?

After a moment of silence, he quietly mumbled, “...yeah.”

You could feel heat rise to your face at his reply. He was too adorable to not tease and he was too honest for his own good. 

“... That was my first kiss too.” He quietly admitted. If it was to you or to himself, neither of you knew. “I’d been saving it for you, buttercup.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at the implications of his statement, hope filling your eyes. “Well, there’s no easy way to say this. Henry, I’ve liked you for years now. It was on and off, if I’m being honest. But you’ve always been the one constant in my life, you’ve always been there for me, supported me. Henry, I really, really, really do like you. I, uh—” You paused, it was so much harder to confess after you had kissed, because it was usually the other way around first. “Will you date me?”

He held a shaky hand to his mouth to barely hide the biggest grin on his face before exclaiming in elation, “Of course, buttercup, a thousand times yes.” He gently began peppering your face with soft, chaste kisses. The temples of your face, the crown of your forehead, the corners of your eyes, the tip of your nose before planting a soft gentle one on your lips.

He picked you up and sat laid on the bed, before getting you to lie beside him as he draped his arms over your shoulder and pulled you in closer. He snuck his head into the crook of your neck and let that guide him to sleep.

“D’you mind if we take a nap, love?”

“Geez, already pulling out the ‘L word,’ Henry? You move quick!” He could feel your laughs reverberate through your chest as you looped your hands around his waist. “Of course we can take a nap. All that excitement tired me out for sure…”

He looked over your shoulder, pulling your warmth closer to him, to see a picture frame with a photo of the two of you.

He had been patient for so long. Clearly, it had paid off.

A/N: AUGH THIS TOOK ME LIKE 4 HOUrS I'M SO SORRY I MEANT THIS TO RELEASE ON JUNE 28TH BUT THEN I WROTE TOO MUCH AND COULDN'T STOP. (1.6k words i think? uGH AND THATS NOT A LOT OF WORDS BY MY STANDARDS EITHERRRR--)

Once again, go check out Henry Morgan from @homecomingvn's tumblr !! They are very cool !! Also I hope you don't mind that I tagged you, I can always remove it if you'd like?