#henrywinterfanfic
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I wrote this for my dearest friend @arinewneanias03
I hope you’ll like this piece, Bunny🐇 ily
After class
Reader’s point of view:
“And that is all I have planned for today!” Julian said and all of us slumped back into our seats, today was a long day. The others were even more keen to leave, it was a friday night, so the twins were rushing to the grocery store along with Francis, who just enjoyed cooking, before I blinked they were already out the door. Bunny and Richard already left, god knows where. I reached forward to finish my tea, and I stood up to get my coat on like everyone, but Julian had stopped me.
“Y/N, I wanted to talk to you about your latin translation.” This made me sit up straight, I kind of was expecting this given the fact that I did it last minute. “It wasn’t bad, but you missed the point on why Caesar had returned to the kingdom. So.. Henry!”
Henry, who was helping Julian by collecting the mismatched teacups, peeked out of the backroom. “Yes?”
“Could you, please, put on boiling water for two?” Julian sat down at his desk and motioned me to sit in the armchair in front of it.
“Of course, but… didn’t you mention that you have a meeting with the Dean today?” Henry said, leaning against the doorframe, he did say it when we started the lecture a few hours ago. I let my eyes linger on Henry, he always looked so good, especially with his crisp black trousers and white shirts, I wished I could tear them off of him. It always lit a flame in me when his shirts accidentally pulled a bit up, exposing his toned abs and sharp v-line, while he stretched his limbs out during our lessons.
Julian checked his watch and his small eyes widened a bit. “Oh dear, you’re right, I didn’t even notice how time went by so fast. Umm… The question is, what do I do with you, lovely Y/N?” He was already reaching for his coat.
Henry stepped forward and said, almost eagerly. “I could explain the text to the lovely Y/N.” He smirked when he caught me blushing.
“That is a good idea, thank you.” He put the keys down on the desk and he shot Henry a specific look that I didn’t understand, before stepping out the door. “Stay as long as you need, you’ll give me the keys tomorrow, I have a spare one at home.” He turned to me” You’re in good hands, Y/N. Be good, children!” With that, he left. We heard his footsteps until he completely left the lyceum.
Henry snapped me out of my thoughts. “Tea?”
I was nervous to be in the same room alone with him, but I had to get myself together. “Yeah, thank you.”
“Mint, a lot of honey and a little lemon?” I heard the kettle whistle, I was surprised that he knew exactly how I drank my tea.
“Exactly.” I smiled at him and he smiled back at me, more like smirked at me.
He made us tea and we moved over to the big couch, we sat with our knees touching. I could feel his manly and musky scent and warmth consuming my body. He took my translation and his from the table and analysed them for a few minutes. “Hm, the translation is almost perfect, it just seems that you used the wrong person for the accusativus, which changes the whole meaning.” He put the papers down and looked deeply into my eyes, I felt a blush creep up my cheeks again and a smile creep up my lips.
“To tell the truth, Henry, the reason that I messed it up is because I was rushing with it and I wasn’t really paying close attention to the text” I rambled.
“Tsk tsk, well that is not really nice, well��� I see, but I am not letting you leave.” I was relieved and not at the same time. The past week was a long one and all I wanted was a long Friday nap, but I was about to spend quite some time with Henry Winter in a somewhat cozy office space.
“You know what lovely girls who don’t pay attention deserve?” He leaned closer and he started toying with the ends of my hair, I hoped my thighs pressing together wasn’t too noticeable.
“No?” My breath was stuck in my throat.
“We’ll go over Caesar’s story.” He whispered, almost seductively. “Be a doll and get it from the big shelf.” He commanded. With a quiet groan, which made him chuckle, I got up and went over to the massive bookcase. I looked on every shelf, but for the life of me I couldn’t find it. “Try looking on the top shelf!” He said from his position on the couch. So, I did, I couldn’t find the ladder that was usually there for the ceiling high bookshelf, so I stretched my torso as much as I could. I felt that my dress was riding up my thighs way too much, just below my butt or maybe even higher. Suddenly, I felt a pair of strong hands lifting me up by my waist to the highest shelf, and he did it so effortlessly, as if I was light as a feather. “It’s the dark blue book.” I saw it and I reached for it. I took it and I felt him turn me around in his arms, now we were face to face. I was still up a bit higher, my hair was all around our faces, but his big hands felt pleasant on my waist. Our faces were inches apart, his scent was stronger now. Out of instinct, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he welcomed me in as if we had done this a thousand times. I was now completely in his warmth, I was so close that my breasts were pushed against his neck, and it made me blush that he was probably feeling them. One of his hands was supporting me on my lower back, and the other one reached up to caress my face. I looked closer at his face, his clean shaven jaw, his raven dark hair, his lips, the scar he had and those icy blue eyes of his. I have never seen a pair of eyes so beautiful, the scar made him ever more beautiful. I saw his eyes roaming around my face, he never saw me this up close, whatever he was looking at he felt the need to stroke with his finger. At first, he brushed my hair off my forehead. Then, he ran his hands along my cheeks, the curve of my nose, under my eyes and my lips. “What divine beauty you possess…” My breathing got heavy, which meant that my chest was repeatedly rubbing up against him. He looked down between us, and took in the sight of my cleavage with a barely audible groan, it was prominent given the fact that I was a bit leant forward in front of him. His eyes wandered from my breasts to my neck, until he looked me in the eyes again. “And this sweet scent of yours… It drives me crazy.” He took a step forward and pushed me up against the bookshelf, as he did, his hips pushed in between my spread legs, right into my centre. I felt a bit of shame at the low moan that escaped from the back of my throat, but quickly washed away when my brain registered that he also grunted at the contact.
The tension was electric. Suddenly, he took the book out of my hands and he dropped it on the floor. His hand went on the back of my neck and pulled my head close to his. “Fuck Caesar.” And he claimed my lips eagerly, I, of course, returned the kiss just as eagerly. He pushed me more and more into the bookshelf, I could feel his erection through my underwear. He pulled me closer, while still kissing me deeply, and went over to Julian’s desk. His big hands pulled my knees apart so he could nestle himself between them, my dress rid up to my waist. I was breathing heavily and on complete display for his hungry eyes.
“You’re a very sweet girl, aren’t you?” He kissed down my neck and jaw, occasionally biting and leaving marks on my untouched skin. He made his way down to my collarbone and my chest, my breath quivered from his teeth. “You’re so responsive to my touch, and just to me in general.” He pulled my arms out of my dress and slowly pushed it down to my waist, I mentally patted myself on the back for choosing a cute bra for the day. He looked like a starved man at the sight of my barely covered chest. “Beautiful, what pretty lingerie, but I want to see you without it. Show yourself to me, sweet girl, and I will do the same” His fingers motioned me to arch my back, so he could unclasp my bra. I got shy and embarrassed when my breasts were no longer covered by my lace, even if I wanted to be seen by him and taken by him, I quickly shot my arms up so I could cover them, but Henry was having none of it. His lusty gaze shifted to a softer one in a mere second, he caressed my arms that were covering my torso, his touch made me shiver. “Lovely lovely Y/N, you are the prettiest creature I ever saw, I knew this the very first time I had the pleasure of seeing you. And you do not owe me anything, if you don’t feel ready for me, I understand. But, I want to show you what a goddess you are, for I will be your devotee.” I slowly put my arms on my sides, my breasts were bare for his eyes. What he said made me feel comfortable, and so fucking in need for him. I needed him, and I needed him in that second. He had the time of his life kneading and sucking my boobs, but I grabbed his hair and pulled him up.
“Baise moi.”
His eyes had a sort of devilish look in them, and he chuckled darkly while unbuttoning his trousers. “Fuck you? Dirty girl…” He pulled his manhood out and my eyes widened, he was so thick and long. Veiny and dripping for me, he was fully hard, he was already hard when he was pushing me up against the bookcase. “And I wanted to take my time with you.” His hands wandered to my underwear and he slowly pulled it down, but he noticed how it clung to my skin due to my wetness.
“So wet already?” He had mockery in his tone.
“So hard already?” I shot back.
“Touché.” He yanked my underwear down. He pushed my knees up and spread my legs. His tip was begging to be inside me, the throbbing of it proved it. Henry took his pointer and middle finger to circle at my sensitive clit. “I should have known you were going to be this naughty… Walking around here, acting so sweet. But, I could see you. These short skirts and dresses, that only rid up your thighs and revealed your barely covering panties, when I was looking. Coincidence, dear?”
He slowly slipped into me and we both gasped, when he felt me get used to his size he started pounding into me relentlessly. We both had a lot of pent up sexual tension towards each other. “Oh, Henry! Please!”
He slowed down out of teasing. “Please what? Please fuck me harder? Deeper?”
“Deeper!” I moaned out loudly. I thought that he was going to spread my legs wider, so it was a surprise when he leaned down closer to me and threw one of my legs over his shoulder, my other one he wrapped around his waist. When I felt him hit that sweet spot inside of me, I was a mess, I felt even more wetness gather around him.
“Well, well…” he said in a low voice, his constant moving taking on a strain on his voice, but he still toon the effort to talk dirty to me, knowing that it turned me on. “No one ever hit that spot inside you, huh?” I nodded with closed eyes and a thrown back head. My throat was completely exposed for him, and he took advantage of it and kissed my skin, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. “Oh my, you are making a mess on me, lovely Y/N, what a gorgeous sight. Will you let me make a mess in you?”
Even if I was on the pill, I never let a man ejaculate inside me, but with Henry? Gladly. “Yes, please! I want to feel it!”
His thrust slowed down, only so he could stab more deeply into my cervix. He brought his head, so now we were eye to eye. “Ever had a man come inside you?” His eyes were soft. I shyly shook my head, as shyly as I could while getting fucked on a desk. He stroked my hair. “You will like it, most women tend to enjoy the feeling of getting filled. Don’t you worry, my sweet, I will make sure to really fill this sweet pussy.”
He reached down between us and rubbed my clit, which dropped me over the edge in seconds. When my walls clamped down on him, he let out a guttural moan and I felt the hot sensation of his seed painting me from the inside. Feeling so close to him, I reached up and pulled him down into an embrace, he wrapped his strong arms around me and we just stayed like that until we could breathe properly.
“If that what I get for fucking my translation up, maybe I need to do it more.” I chuckled.
His hand suddenly wrapped around my throat, yeah, that shut me up quite quickly. “The sweet Y/N wants to get punished, oh… You have seen nothing yet.”
He pulled out and kneeled before me. He watched as his own seed dripped out of my entrance like it hypnotised him, when it nearly dripped down he gathered it on his fingers and pushed it back. My legs twitched at the sudden contact on my sensitive parts. He looked up at me with a sly and smug grin, slowly he dived down. “Henry-what are yo-“ he pushed my now correct translation into my hands and wrapped his arms around my thighs to keep me in place, while giving my clit a little kiss.
“You are going to read it out for me. If I hear a tiny mistake, mispronunciation or even a moan, you are starting from the beginning.”
#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#henry winter#richardpapen#francis abernathy#francisabernathy#bunny corcoran#bunnycorcoran#charles macaulay#henrywinterimagine#henrywinterfanfic#henrywintersmut#henrymarchbankswinter#henry winter smut#the secret history fanfic#the secret history fanfiction#i love him#the secret history#henrymilla#the secret history memes#tshfanfic#thesecrethistoryimagine#tshfanfiction#tsh spoilers#tsh#donna tartt
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@celestialpoetry ‘s request, thank you for the support dove<3
I kind of based this character off of Meredith from If We Were Villains, which is my current read:)
summary: Henry meeting an embodiment of seducement and finding himself lusting after her
Temptress
Henry’s point of view:
The first time I saw her, I thought that it was the cigarette that clouded my vision. It even went through my head that I only imagined her.
But, it instantly cleared my doubts when I saw her multiple times later.
I only saw her from far-apart, and as time went by, I started to know more about her from here and there. She was in theatre, she dropped in mid-semester, no one knew where she came from and why she came to Hampden. Her hair was golden as the Sun, and always made in a nice way. Depending on how her hair was styled I knew what phase was she going through. If she was busy with exams, memorizing lines and running from practice to practice, her hair was trapped in a french twist. If she was relaxed and free, her hair was framing her face and back like a lion’s huge mane.
Her face, oh, her gorgeous face. She was beautiful, and the fact that she was aware of it and knew how to use it made it all better. Thick eyelashes, delicately curved nose, full lips caught between teeth, lusty eyes. Her body had curves that I wished I could grip into, her silky looking skin was hugged by silk or lace or fur.
She was sex on legs. A nymph. A goddess of seducement. A temptress.
No other woman had as much of an effect on me like she did. She lit a fire up within me with a single gaze of those eyes. She made me jealous of the people and even the wind that surrounded her. I wanted to suffocate any man that came closer to her.
The only contact I had with her was when our eyes met here and there. Whenever they did, she wasn’t shy, she let her eyes run up and down my body, she licked her those plush lips, bit them and let a sly smirk rest upon them. I smirked back at her and winked at her, I threw my manners out the window and checked her out.
Until one night, it was a cold night. I had an urging need to write, but my apartment couldn’t make the atmosphere I felt most inspired in. I put on a wool sweater instead of a shirt and I made my way toward the college’ library in my car. In the parking lot, I saw a blood red vintage car. The secluded library’s window showed that the fireplace within was lit up, someone was in there. I was fine with it as long as the person didn’t bother me with any annoying little habits.
I immediately felt my body relax at the warmth of the library, the warmth coming from the centre. The centre had a fireplace, a big rug in front of it and leather couches and armchairs that I was quite fond of. So, I made my way over to the centre.
My heartbeat quickened when I heard the voice from far apart.
“As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
And for her sake do I rear up her boy,
And for her sake I will not part with him.”
Her honey-sweet voice hit my ears, she was practising her lines.
A few seconds later, she came into my vision. She was walking around on the rug, in front of the fireplace, a lit cigarette stuck between her slender, elegant fingers and her nails were painted blood red. How I wished that those fingers were caressing my skin and stroking my co—
“Hello there, Winter.” I was too lost in my perverse fantasies to notice that she turned around and now was looking at me with those seductive eyes of hers.
“Good evening.” I nodded and sat down on one of the couches. “Practise?”
She sat down on the same one as I did and took a long drag of her cigarette. “Trying to, if I’m honest I didn’t even come here to practise.”
I looked at her with awaiting eyes, gesturing to her to continue.
She streched her slender body and tucked her knees into her chest, I couldn’t help but glance down where her knees pushed against her delicate breasts. I wanted to devour her completely, I felt my trousers tighten at a million more fantasies of how I could make her mine and mine alone.
“The apartment above mine is having a gathering.”
“Are they drinking and stomping?”
“Almost, they are having an orgy.” She smirked at me, while taking a big gulp out of her flask.
I chuckled softly. “Good for them, I suppose.”
There was a comfortable silence between us. I looked at her to steal a glance, only to find her already looking at me with hooded eyes. She had a little smile on her lips, she suddenly reached up toward me and offered me her flask. I didn’t even care what she was offering me, she could have given me poison in it and I would have drank it eagerly. It sent a heatwave down my spine when I put my lips exactly where the print of her lipstick was.
“It’s a dirty martini.” She said when I gave it back to her.
“I could tell, it’s really good. Did you make it?” It really was good, the olive taste and sweetness mingled perfectly together.
“I’m glad you liked it, yes I made it. I have too much fun making all kinds of cocktails. When I was in my late teenage years, I worked in a bar, that’s where I learnt it all.” She was looking forward, as if she was telling tales to the fire. Her hands blindly reached for another cigarette, and so did I.
I couldn’t help, but smile at her. When she was talking about something she was enthusiastic about her eyes weren’t holding that lustful gaze of hers, more like wider, adorable eyes that reminded me of a doe.
I lit my cigarette with ease, and I noticed that her lighter was refusing to light up. “Oh damn it! It’s out, little fucker.” She mumbled under her breath.
Suddenly, she turned her head around to look me in the eyes..
There was something about her at that moment. Her hair was long and big, I wished to stroke it and pull it at the same time. The cigarette was between her lips that were painted a dark red. Her skirt rid up to the top of her thighs. I was lured in, and lured in deep.
She slowly crawled towards me from across the couch, when she got close, she supported herself on my knees. She leaned closer to my face, with a sultry look that made me want to fall to my knees at her every wish.
“Henry?” She whispered.
“Y/N?” I whispered back to her.
She leaned into my ear, I could smell her sweet scent all around me, I wanted to drown in it. My arms tightening with the need to just wrap themselves around her and show her pleasure on earth.
“Would you light my cigarette, please?” She leaned away and giggled, she was very well aware of the effect she left on me.
I lit my lighter up and she leaned into it, lighting the ashes to life. “You know what this means? When you light someone’s cigarette?”
I shook my head softly, there was an adoring smile on my face. She slowly got up and gathered her things, she stopped in front of me and said the answer.
“I’m your bitch now.” She smirked, everyone wanted her to be their bitch, I was no different. But, at the same time I was, I wanted to give her the world and worship her.
“And are you?” I smirked back at her in challenge, I was always up for a game.
“Do you want me to be?” She tilted her head in front of me, looking me up and down discreetly, there was hunger in her eyes, she had hunger for me.
I put my cigarette down and took hers too. I stood up and towered over her, my broad body nearly swallowing hers up. I let my fingers caress her hair and then wander to her cheeks, it was like caressing silk.
“I want you to be.” I whispered. “Let me take you out on a date, treat you nice, show you how you should be cherished. Let me give you the world.”
She closed her eyes, she loved to hear the words I said, and she loved that I was the one who said it. Behind that sultry gaze, I saw that she wanted me, and wanted me deeply.
She got up on her tiptoes and her lips were hovering over my ear. “If you want me, show it to me, show me that you really mean what you said. And then, if you are a winner, you may claim your prize.”
My blood stopped when I felt her plush lips press against my neck.
After many long seconds, she leaned away, winked at me and made her way out. From the window I could see the red vintage car driving away, of course it was hers.
I took my previous seat and watched the fire. She was playing hard to get, I loved it. I wanted to work for her love, I was fucking game.
I took my writing notebook out and I wrote one thing on the top of the page.
Temptress.
I found my muse.
———————
Yes, this will have another part dw I got you<3
Please, let me know what you think and thank you for reading:)
#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#henry winter#henrywintersmut#henrywinterimagine#henrymarchbankswinter#henry winter smut#the secret history fanfic#the secret history fanfiction#i love him#the secret history#henrywinterfanfic#tshfanfic#tshfanfiction#tsh spoilers#tsh#thesecrethistoryimagine#femme fatale#richardpapen#francis abernathy#francisabernathy#bunny corcoran#bunnycorcoran#charles macaulay#camillamacaulay#dark academia#donna tartt#chaotic academia
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For drabble, would it inspire you to write about a date or vacation with Henry? I’m obsessed with Henry being sweet behind closed doors 💕
Thank you for requesting, keep them coming I love them sm:)
Paris
My goddess deserved to be spoiled, always so good to me. So I took my dearest girl to Paris, in hope to return to Hampden with my fiancée. It warmed my heart to see her eyes wide and sparkling from the city, it was beautiful. I obviously booked a suite for us, on the top floor, so I could see her wake up happy, with Paris at her feet.
We woke up, had a quiet coffee and breakfast in the morning, but some days we just slept in and had sex while the sun joined us slowly.
Our days were either spent sightseeing, shopping or even just chatting in a café, or even reading together.
We had dinner at an expensive restaurant every night. I loved seeing her getting ready, applying her makeup on, zipping up her dress that hugged her curves perfectly, and she always asked me to help her put on her jewellery, even if she was perfectly capable of putting it on for herself. It brought me satisfaction when her eyes rolled back at the delicious taste of the
cuisine and the wines from the finest french vineries. We talked at the soft candlelight, a bit tipsy from the wine, smoking cigarettes and softly caressing each other, knowing that the night will end with mind blowing sex.
But one night, we got ready for our dinner, except that I had a velvet box in my pocket.
We were waiting for dessert and she stroked my hand. “Thank you for the day, Henry.” She told me this everyday.
“Anything for you, my goddess, you know you musn’t thank me, I would do anything for you gladly.”
“I know, but I am so very grateful for you.” She leaned closer and petted my face. “My dear, spoiling me so nicely…”
“My pleasure. Y/N, my love…”
She giggled, a bit confused at my sudden seriousness. “Yes?”
“I never knew that I could love someone so much as much as I love you, I never thought I could love, until you came into my life…” I said my monologue that I had practised in my head ever since we arrived in the country. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, with a smile.
But, her mouth fell open when I got down on one knee, and it was no surprise when she fell into my arms, repeating ‘yes’ over and over again.
So, that night I didn’t make love to my lovely girl, but to my lovely wife. We only got engaged, but I already looked at her as my wife, ever since I first saw her. It was obvious that a girl like her only comes once in a lifetime, so marrying her was the best choice of my life.
After many many rounds, we were spent and so were our bodies. I slept like a bear everytime she was near me.
I woke up the next morning, with a groan and closed eyes I felt around the sheets, looking for my wife. I opened my eyes when I couldn’t feel her warm body near me, and I saw her at the open window, right next to our bed. She was leaning out the window, smoking a cigarette. Her curvy frame was barely covered with a white button up shirt of mine, she must have picked it up from the ground just now, not even bothering to button it or putting on her panties, while I melted into the white sheets naked.
The sun was shining down on her, and she was swimming in it. My goddess welcomed the sun with closed eyes and a gentle hum. The sun was also shining through the shirt, revealing her skin for me. Her kissable neck, her soft back, her delicate thighs and her graspable butt with wider hips. I was so in love with her, my body and heart both reacted to her immediately.
She turned around and smiled at me. “Is my husband enjoying the view?” She threw her cigarette out and made her way towards me. My cock stirred in that instant, looking for her warm cunt.
“It would be hard not to, especially with a beauty-on-earth wife like mine.” She crawled on top of me, kissing every inch of my face before leaning down and giving me a deep kiss. When I felt her plump lips against mine, I stroked the back of her hair with one hand and pushed her my shirt off her shoulders.
Her breasts were a sight for sore eyes, I kissed all around them and swirled my tongue all around her sensitive nipples, until she begged me to do something.
“Henry, my husband! I cannot take it anymore, I need you, I need you more.” I flipped us so now she was caged under me. I positioned my tip at her entrance, but didn’t push in more than the tip. She grew impatient and wrapped her legs around my waist, only to tighten them and make my hips collide with hers.
I embraced her as her tight walls embraced my member. “My sweet girl, my sweet wife, taking me so well and oh, so tight.”
I threw one of her legs over her shoulder, the sudden position change caused my tip to press into her heavenly spot at her cervix. As I pounded into her she mewled loudly and kissed me to drown out her loud moans. The sun peeked down at our heated love making, or fucking more like.
Her shaking legs and fluttery walls indicated that she was letting go, so I did too. I pumped her full of my thick cum and just stayed inside of her.
We stayed like that for hours, connected both physically and emotionally, smoking cigarettes and just chatting about anything, as husband and wife.
#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#henry winter#richardpapen#francis abernathy#francisabernathy#bunny corcoran#bunnycorcoran#charles macaulay#camillamacaulay#henrywinterfanfic#henrywintersmut#henrywinterimagine#henrymarchbankswinter#henry winter smut#tshfanfic#thesecrethistoryimagine#tshfanfiction#the secret history fanfic#the secret history fanfiction#tsh spoilers#tsh#donna tartt#the secret history
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The Other Winter
This was so refreshing to write, prepare for more small fluffies in the future:)) xx, Rosemary
Henry woke up to an empty bed. His little doe nowhere to be seen. He turned around in the sheets and saw the messy side where she was sleeping in his embrace, he could feel the warmth that she left there and the of her scent, a sweet vanilla scent that made him crazy whenever he felt it.
However, he could feel a good breakfast scent in the room also and heard the noises from the kitchen.
That must be y/n, he thought.
He got himself out of the warm sheets, he didn’t even bother putting on some pants or a shirt, his boxer shirts will do fine.
As he got to the kitchen, light jazz music was playing on vinyl, and there she was in all her beautiful glory. Swaying her hips to the rhythm of the music, her hair was poofed up from turning in her sleep and cascading down her back. She was only in her panties and his usually crisp white shirt that was now wrinkly and clumsily buttoned in the middle, so it can weakly cover her flushed bosom.
He was absolutely and utterly in love and mesmerized with her. Although the shirt was huge on her, her silhouette was prominent in it. He found himself longing after a tiny touch of her skin.
He walked up to her and hugged her like a bear from behind, it was followed by a squeal of surprise from her, but then she melted in his arms. He nuzzled his face into the top of her hair and enjoyed the sweet scent of her all around him.
“Good morning, little doe. What are you doing up this early?” He was an early bird himself and she was the opposite, she enjoyed sleeping in when she could and she loved spending a day in between the sheets lazily.
“I wanted to make you breakfast, and oh-” she turned around and fetched a mug from the upper shelf so she could pour him a fresh cup of coffee. She pushed into his hand and stared up at him with awaiting doe eyes. What an adorable little thing she was, he thought.
He sipped the coffee and it was exactly how he liked it, no milk and two sugar cubes. He was very picky with coffee and she could always make it for him perfectly.
“You know just how I like it, thank you.” He smiled down at her and his fingers grazed her cheeks, he put the mug down and let his other arm snake around her waist to pull her body closer to his.
He suddenly put her on the counter and kissed her deeply, and she obviously returned his enthusiasm.
He started caressing her jaw and planting little loving kisses to her neck. Then he kissed her forehead and stroked her head, she never felt more relaxed, especially if she didn’t have his warm hands touching her.
“What a good girl you are, my good little doe. Always so good to me, spoiling me, loving on me. Letting me make you mine, and you enjoy it deeply too. You enjoy knowing that everyone envies me because you are mine, not theirs, I have the pleasure of having the sweetest girl in my bed every night.”
He leaned into his hair and whispered. “Imagine if they knew our little secret, Mrs.Winter.” He lifted her left hand and kissed the subtle diamond ring on her finger, the ring that he proposed to her with. They didn’t plan to marry until they finished their studies, and that could take years. They already thought of themselves as husband and wife. “I will give you everything you want, everything you could imagine.” His hand slipped down to her tummy under his shirt. “One day, I will put my baby in here and make you a mother, the mother of my child.”
She couldn’t help herself, she had to pull him down by his hair for a couple more kisses, he knew that babies were her weakness.
She served him breakfast and they ate together, her in his lap and nuzzling into each other’s warmth, occasionally feeding bites to each other here and there.
They couldn’t think of a more divine future together.
In love, as Mr. and Mrs.Winter.
#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#henry winter#tsh#tshfanfic#henrymarchbankswinter#henrywinterfanfic#henrywinterimagine
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Chapter One
The first proper chapter!
As you could already see, this story plays in a different time, so don’t get upset at what the characters say or do.
Please please please tell me your opinions on it and most importantly, enjoy:)
warnings: mentions of murder, death faking, classic Henry Winter behaviour
summary: Henry is on his way to his new home and he reflects on the last couple of weeks.
word count: 2k
Prologue to this fanfiction
1948
He was a free man now, but at the same time he wasn’t.
At least the restless nights were over, he didn’t have to worry about the police coming any second to bust his door down and arrest him. Even though deep down he knew that his father would shoot anyone who dares to lay a hand on his son. But, the freedom he was always destined to live came with a price. He had to sooner or later, so it didn’t really matter anymore. He had his Hampden years as only his, as a brand new person, but after he should have graduated he was supposed to get back where he really belongs. He didn’t need a diploma, when you’re the son of one of the wealthiest and powerful man in the world, you need anything but a stupid diploma. He went there, purely because he wanted to. He wanted to be someone else for a while, he wanted to study languages and adore literature, art. He was lucky to find the people he called his friends, well, some of them were a burden. Bunny Corcoran made himself a burden and Charles Macaulay was born a burden. But Francis Abernathy and Richard Papen were good men with no bad intentions and he liked having them around. And then there was his little love, Camilla, he believes that he loves her, but then again he has absolutely no clue what love is, but his feelings for Camilla were the closests things to it. However, if he loved her, why did he leave her so easily? Wasn’t it supposed to be a hard choice choosing between her or his powerful freedom? The answer doesn’t even matter anymore, nothing that happened in those years and few months matters anymore. Things happened the way they happened and it is time for new beginnings. He was a brand new man, the one he was always supposed to be and the one he left behind is dead, at least to everyone else.
He stared out the window of his family’s private plane. His cigarette dangling from his lips mirrored his father, who sat in front of him, also with a burning cigarette between his lips. He was his father’s twin, the same pale skin, same big height and the same raven dark hair, but he got his bright eyes from his dear mother.
The stewardess, who was also the family’s maid, came in with a tray, two crystal glasses and a bottle of fine scotch. The silver haired woman poured both of them an inch.
“Laura, dear.” Henry’s father said “the boy had a hard time, don’t shy away with the scotch.”
“Yes, Mr.Sinclair.” She said as she poured a few more inches.
When she left the lounge of the plane, Henry reached forward and downed down his drink in one go, his father immediately went to pour him more. He was a ruthless and powerful man, so was his wife, Mrs.Sinclair. But they adored their only child and son, they did what they did not only to carry on their family’s name and reputation, but to give their son everything he could ever want. However, this life came with sacrifices, he would learn that soon enough.
“Look at me, son.” Mr.Sinclair said in a firm tone, so he did. “I know how hard this must be, I understand. Me and your mother will give you time to heal, but that comes with accepting what you have to do. You are the heir who will keep up the magnificent Sinclair name, you will get into business and you will do your duty with honor, like a good man.”
Henry nods slowly and takes a long drag from his cigarette. “I know, father. I had my fun and now it is time.”
“Very well, my son.” He suddenly snickered to himself. “Two murders, huh? Your heritage cannot be denied. However the ancient sex ritual was a new addition.”
Oh yes, when the events in Hampden heightened Henry went home for a weekend and told his parents everything, every single detail. With a life like theirs, there are not many things that can suprise them. They listened to everything and came up with a solution and a perfect plan that suggests a fake tragedy. It took careful and perfect planning.
He needed someone to snap, his first subject would have been Richard, but then Camilla called him in the middle of the night when Charles had hurt her. This version of the plan was better, he would provoke Charles until he did something stupid, he drove up to Francis’s country house on one weekend and put Francis’s aunts beretta in Charles’s room. He left the door open at the inn’s room and waited for Charles to come. The beretta had 2 bullets and the third would be a fake one that had piglet blood in it. He also gave a bit of drug to everyone without them noticing, he hid a bottle of whisky in Charles’s room with drugs mixed in it. Then the second Richard told him that he is there at the estate and drunk, he knew that the plan was on. He ordered room service and wine, when Camilla went to freshen up, he also put the drugs in her glass of wine. He hoped that Francis and Richard would show up desperate and shaken up, when they did he was pleased that they took big gulps from Camilla’s glass of wine, he needed everyone’s mind fuzzy. He paid attention to their body language that got more slumped by the minute. When Charles busted in the door, it was game time. He was confident, he was a Sinclair for fuck’s sake, he knew self defense like no one and he had reflexes as sharp as a knife, Charles was no competition. The first gunshot to the window and the second to poor Richard’s stomach, he held the gun in his hands now. There were heavy knocks on the door, it was time. He pulled the trigger, he felt the fake bullet hit his temple and explode with the pig blood, he dropped to the floor and tried to stay as still as he could. The others were too shocked and their heads fuzzy. He smiled smugly to himself when he felt the blanket on him, bless Francis. His father’s men came acting like the police and took him out of there, straight to the private plane.
“You will get over it.” His father interrupted his train of thought. “But, you have to know one thing and keep it in your head, always.”
“What is it?” He was desperate for some good advice.
“Henry Winter is dead, it is time for you to be who you really are supposed to be. Henry Sinclair.”
Henry smiled at that, he would never say it out loud but he felt better being Henry Sinclair, his true self.
Henry Winter was someone he used for his Hampden years, Winter was his mother’s maiden name and he put it to good use. He didn’t need anyone recognizing the Sinclair name.However, there was one thing he never planned. Falling in love with a certain twin blonde girl, if this meant falling in love, he wasn’t sure. He felt protective over her, wanted to protect her as long as he could. But how could he lay beside her at night knowing that he was going to leave her? He didn’t mean to hurt her, she was better off without him and Charles, he just hoped he stayed away from her.
His mother joined them in the lounge, as he walked beside her son she caressed his dark hair and she sat beside her husband.
“It will get easier, honey. I know your heart aches for that blonde girl twin, she will get over it too. Just like your friends. What matters is that the plan went perfectly, and now we have you here with us.”
She threw back a few inches of her husband’s scotch and smiled at her family.
“Paris will wash all your troubles away. You will see the wonderful business of our family, get to know some new friends, join us to magnificent balls and parties.” She smirked at him slyly, he knew that smile of hers, he knew what was coming. “And who knows? You might meet a nice sweetheart and hold her close to your heart.”
“Paris does show you true love, son.” His father says and puts his hands on his mother’s, his fingertips touching her wedding band.
“Yeah, sure. I am fine by myself, thank you.” Henry rolled his eyes, the scotch in his head brought out his attitude. His parents shared a knowing look.
There was a heavy silence now, all three of them lost in their own thoughts. Until Laura, their maid, came in and informed them of their schedule.
“The pilot just announced that the plane will land in an hour, a driver will be waiting at the airport and he will be taking you to your apartment.”
“Actually, Laura,” said Mr.Sinclair. “Henry will be taken to his own apartment.” He wrote an address on a piece of paper and gave it to the maid. “Get another driver and give him the address. Thank you, Laura.”
The maid left and Henry gave a peek to his parents who were already looking at him with smug smiles.
“Thank you, father, mother.” He really was grateful, what he needed was his own space, alone with his thoughts. All he wanted was to finally sleep some and then have some good old silence. Which he could never have, his head and brain were always running and thinking. He needed a good book to concentrate on, or maybe if he emptied his mind down to his diary, he could feel relieved. Or perhaps, if only he had Camilla by his side, he could put his stress somewhere else… Whatever, he should just get himself together and flip the page.
“You will feel much better when we arrive.” Mrs.Sinclair stood up and started to leave the lounge. “I will sort the luggages for the landing.” And with that, she left. Leaving father and son, alone.
“There is more to life than books and ancient languages, Henry. Until you settle down, there are always good ways to cope with stress. Like… Beautiful women, eager to please.” Here we go…
“You kn—“ he tried interrupting.
“I know, I know. Not my business, you have your own private life and I know it. But, so you know. The building we own, where you will live in the apartment, has a little section for pleasure. If you want anything or anyone, pick up the phone and you shall have it. So you know.”
“Alright. I will think about it.” He won’t.
Don’t you get him wrong, he liked to have sex. He liked being inside of a woman, feeling her warmth everywhere and holding her close. He liked seeing pleasure consume her body and seeing it on her face. While he was in Hampden he always found a nice girl to fuck, he didn’t use women, he gave them all the pleasure they could want and he put their pleasure in front of his, always. But he was dead to the one woman he felt really hungry for, some whore or anyone for that matter will not do the job. Right now, he just wanted to get to the place he will call his home and rest for a while.
But for now, he can at least close his eyes knowing that Henry Winter is dead, he can now focus on one thing and one thing only.
Being his true self, Henry Sinclair.
#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#richardpapen#henry winter#francis abernathy#francisabernathy#bunny corcoran#bunnycorcoran#charles macaulay#charlesmacauley#tsh spoilers#the secret history fanfic#the secret history fanfiction#the secret history#camilla macaulay#henrywinterimagine#henry winter smut#henrywinterfanfic#henrywintersmut
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Hello!
Would you doves enjoy a Henry Winter fanfic that would be written in Richard Papen’s point of view?
I have this idea in my head and I am interested if you would like it.
xoxo, Rosemary <3
#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#richardpapen#henry winter#francis abernathy#francisabernathy#bunny corcoran#bunnycorcoran#charles macaulay#charlesmacauley#henrywinterimagine#henrywinterfanfic
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Prologue
Hello, my darling doves
Suprise! The fanfiction began.
Before you dig into it… Yes, it is in a different timeline than the actual book, and not all things are same as in the book, but you will find out eventually:)
I hope you will like it and I’m always open to hear your opinions on it!
xoxo, Rosemary<3
warnings: none:) maybe alcohol use, but this is tsh so nobody really cares
summary: just some warming up
word count: 1.3k
Richard Papen, 1953
Some nights, I am still at that hotel. We all are. Charles with a gun in his hand, Camilla sobbing, Francis and I frozen, and Henry… Nearly smiling at the gun. The next events happened barely in a mere second. The screaming, the gunshots, the warm feeling in my stomach, the red wine and blood splashing. Henry lay dead on the floor, his pale face covered in blood. He was pronounced dead on the scene when the police arrived, while they were on their way Francis put a blanket on him, I don’t remember those moments very well. I only remember the blood on his face and his closed eyes. Francis was the only one who attended the funeral, I would have gone with him to Missouri, where he was getting buried, but I was laying in the hospital with a gunshot.
I never saw the twins ever again. Charles ran away and Camilla went silent. We nearly couldn’t care less about Charles after what he had done, but Camilla was a hard pill to swallow.
Me and Francis tried everything we could for a good while, brought her to the best psychiatrist, and we stayed with her patiently. Until she finally spoke to us again. But only a few words, she kindly asked us to leave her alone to deal with her grief, Henry or Charles, we never knew. We understood and left her alone like she asked. We tried our best to get our friend back and figured that she would contact us if she wanted to.
—
Me and Francis kept in touch over the years, calls and visits were engraved in our daily routines. He visited me in Chicago and I visited him in Boston. I analyzed literature and sometimes gave lessons in big named schools. Francis wrote detective books, he started writing them as a distraction and they blew up, people loved him. In the end, both of us were steady on our feet. I wasn’t in possession of a family fortune, but I became a bit wealthy myself.
However, there was one name we never dared to speak. Until today.
We were at Francis’s huge apartment, on the couch, whiskey in hand. We already drank a bottle of Irish whiskey. Suddenly he laughed to himself in a drunken manner. “What is it?” I laughed to myself too at his odd manner, the whiskey really managed to get in my head, I felt dizzy and floaty.
His laughing slowly went away and he stared at the maroon wall dreamily. “You know what I think about sometimes?” He looked at me with a sly foxy smile. “What if Henry never died?” I suddenly sat up and a little part of me was relieved that he said Henry’s name, he might have been drunk out of his mind but still. He knew Henry for a longer time than I did and his death was harder for him, he is also a sensitive fellow so that was not the greatest mix. I started snickering at his foolish question, but I stopped it when I saw his serious face, he was lost in thought.
“Francis? Where did this come from? We both watched him fall to the floor.” I tried studying his face, he wouldn’t look in my eyes.
“I know, I know. But those parts are so blurry, I barely remember how we got out of there. What do you remember from it?” He finally looked at me.
“Oh yeah, I remember every single little detail that happened. Especially the gunshot wound in my stomach and the blood oozing out of it!” He angered me a bit, the alcohol made the moment more dramatic than it actually was.
“Okay, I see your point…” He bit his lip, as if he was in distress. “What if he didn’t actually die? That was the last time we saw him and we got ushered out so quickly that we didn’t even register what hap—“
“Aren’t you a detective murder mystery writing novelist? Your mind is more creative day by day.” I point to his shelf, where he displayed the awards his books and stories won, in a joking manner. He was really good at what he was doing, no wonder everyone always begged for the new novel of his, even my students who I eventually taught from time to time.
He was not laughing, not appreciating my joke. I could see it in his eyes that he really was thinking. “Richard, have you ever seen him after that?”
“Weren’t you the one who sat through his whole funeral?!”
“It was a closed casket.” He shrugged.
“Closed casket?” I straightened up at the new information. “Didn’t he always say that he was going to have an open casket funeral?”
Francis’s eyes widened. “He did, because he wanted people to really see that all of us end up in the same way.” It was silent for a few minutes, until Francis turned to me. “Richard, if he could write his car to your name, then he could have had an open casket funeral. He wrote what he wanted for it when he was like sixteen, and the way he was looking at the gun?” We turned more serious by the second.
“Maybe he had a closed casket to spare Camilla?” I brought up my only explanation, but even I barely believed it.
“Camilla is not as weak as you think, and Henry was or is not that soft to change what he always believed in for a girl.” My biggest problem was that he actually made some sense, there was something about what he had said.
“So, let me get this straight. Henry may be alive and we didn’t think of this for five years?” I scoffed and turned to Francis. I put my hands on both of his shoulders and sighed deeply, as if I was a father who is about to tell a life lesson to his child. “Look Francis, I know that this Henry being alive and well alternative is way more sweeter, but it is not the truth and not the one we live in.”
“I know, but what if—“ He tried to interrupt me.
“No, no more what if’s… Henry is dead. We watched him shoot himself in the head and drop to the floor. You sat through his funeral, closed casket or not, he was in there. He is gone, Francis. Fuck… I wish he wasn’t, I wish we found a better way to deal with everything going on without anyone dying. I wish that Charles never came in with a gun in hand…” He had tears in his eyes from my little speech, maybe I did too, but I needed him to open up his eyes and see our sad truth.
He smiled sadly, a fat tear running down his freckled cheek. “I wish for anything that could have kept our group together…” he said as he stared into the crunching fire in the fireplace. I believe that in that moment he tried really hard for the first time to accept what we came to.
“We’re here now. Maybe up there, Bunny could give that goddamn slap back to Henry and even bang him in the head with his stupid latin diary.” I nudged his shoulder, trying to ease the tension. What I didn’t expect was a proper laugh from him. Half a genuine laugh, half a grieving sob.
“Yeah, you’re right… Thank you, Richard. For everything.” He lifted his glass and we clicked them together.
“To new beginnings.”
“To new fucking beginnings.”
#henrywinter#thesecrethistory#richardpapen#henry winter#francis abernathy#francisabernathy#bunny corcoran#bunnycorcoran#charles macaulay#charlesmacauley#the secret history#the secret history fanfic#tsh#tshfanfic#tshfanfiction#the secret history fanfiction#henry winter smut#henrywintersmut#henrywinterimagine#henrywinterfanfic#henry winter fanfic#henrymarchbankswinter#henry winter fanfiction
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