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captainsy-cookiemonster · 19 days ago

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Part 2

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The Emperor's Mistress

Summary: Even an emperor has needs that have to be satisfied.

Pairing: Emhyr Var Emreis (Netflix) x Iphra (OFC; first person pov)

Warnings: SEX; MDNI!; kinda FwB, lust not love; power imbalance; ring kissing; blowjob, forced deepthroat; condescending; mock sympathy; m multiple orgasm; f orgasm denial; edging; if i missed anything, please let me know

A/N: A huge thank you to @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @thelastsock @the-soot-sprite @littlefreya and @luna-aestas for motivating me through this nearly 2 year process!!! Love you girls so much!!💗💗💗 Netflix Emhyr is a Dilf and he probably has some needs so… I'm not saying this is supposed to be canon, just something my horny brain came up with. Also yes I know he’s evil. But if evil, why sexy? Yeah totally thought of this bc in a class we learned how much influence king’s mistresses had at court. Totally selfindulgent. Fuck, I’m rusty… Enjoy 😊

Word Count: 3k

Title: The Emperor’s Mistress

Writers live off validation. If you liked it please like, comment and reblog 💕 thank you for reading 💖

I hadn’t seen him around court all day. Not surprising, given the current situation, the preparations in full swing. Through a servant, he had let me know that he is not to be disturbed all day. It is my job, then, to dismiss all the courtiers asking to speak with him. I already knew then that he would come to me tonight.

The light of the setting sun is reflecting in the mirror atop the vanity of where I sit, making my jewellery cast little specks of light to the smooth stone walls of my room. Softest silk caresses my skin as I fix myself up. It could only be a matter of time now until he knocks.

Late this afternoon, the Emperor had then sent the much expected servant to inform me he would visit me tonight. I spent the last two hours getting ready for his Imperial Majesty, bathing in scented oils, dressing in a fine gown, all for his Majesty’s enjoyment.

I made certain everything would be flawless for his arrival, I even sent for a servant to bring a pitcher of the Emperor’s favourite wine to my quarters. He has been… tense lately, overly stressed, though he does not tell me why. I only see him at night, requiring my presence more often than usual in order to relax. And even then it seemed as if his mind was somewhere far away. But what else was to be expected? He is commanding a war after all.

A knock - the knock - on my door echoes through my room. The attendant’s way of letting me know his Imperial Majesty would be arriving soon. With a pounding heart, I stand by a table with the wine, ready to welcome Emhyr once he arrives. I wonder about his mood tonight. But I don’t have to wonder for long, as shortly after the attendant knocked, the door flies open.

Emhyr marches in, and I drop into a deep curtsey.

“My lord.”

But he doesn’t answer. I hold out a goblet to him and he takes it, downing the wine in just a few gulps.

Bad mood.

“How are the preparations going, my lord?” I try to get at least some reaction from him. Anything but this tense silence. “I heard you will be departing in the morning?”

“Iphra,” he sighs, frustration clear in his voice. “This is nothing you should worry your pretty head about.”

A pause. He holds out the goblet and I refill it. He drinks from it, then sets it down with another sigh. Once he looks back up at me, it’s like he’s a man changed

“Come here.” His voice is calm, cold and commanding. He holds out a hand and when I take it, he tugs me in, so that I almost stumble into him. He pushes my hair out the way and starts to mouthe at my neck, sucking, nipping me occasionally. His breath smells of the wine, his lips leaving a red stain on my skin. One of his hands is splayed out on the small of my back, pulling me in closer, while the other is tugging at the shoulder strap of my dress to free my chest to him. He leaves a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses down my breasts, all while slowly walking me backwards to the bed.

My back meets the bedpost and I reach behind me to hold onto it, allowing Emhyr to devour my neck, untouched. He doesn’t like it when I hold onto him or even give the slightest indication of where to go. All of this is for his pleasure, not mine. Still, I moan and gasp softly each time his lips find a sweet spot, each time he sucks or nips on it.

Eventually, he pulls back, and takes a step back. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown, lips kiss-swollen. It is an image of the White Flame only the fewest possess the privilege to see. Not the stern and regal ruler, not the rightful heir who killed the usurper, but a simple man looking for what we all seek: pleasure.

And then I watch as he begins to unbuckle his belt.

“Allow me,” I purr, getting on my knees in one fluid motion. My hands come up to unbuckle his belt for him, as well as untying his trousers and his boots. Looking up, I see him unfastening his vest, shrugging it off and tossing it to a nearby divan, along with his tunic. I take off his boots, and slide his trousers down, setting them aside on the floor as I look up at him. Bared before me in all his imperial glory, I cannot help but reach to touch his thighs. But he tuts me. I let my hands fall into my lap and cast my eyes down. I know, my eagerness will have consequences.

“You know what to do,” he says, in that calm voice laden with authority, though there is mocking disappointment in it as well.

I only look up again once I feel his left hand outstretched and close to my face. Without question, I take it into both of mine, almost reverently, and touch my lips to the large signet ring, my eyes fluttering shut. It is warm beneath my lips, the gold warmed by his body heat.

I release a shuddering breath when I pull back. My hands reach for his thighs and this time, he doesn't stop me when they come to rest at their sides.

"See? You know your place."

Still that slight mocking in his voice. His hand, the one I had just kissed, touches my chin softly, tilting it up, making me look at him. His fingers continue into my hair as I lean closer to him until my lips meet the tip of his length.

"Open up, my dear."

And I do. I open my mouth, just slightly, giving his tip a sloppy kiss and kissing down his length before I come up and take him into my mouth. I start to suckle, humming when he groans. I want to take him deeper, needing to hear him again, but he pulls me back by the hair.

“Patience,” he tuts, and I nod, with his cock in my mouth. I return to suckling him again, just taking the tip and bobbing my head a little, never taking more than half of him. His groans are music to my ears, a reminder why I do this. To please him.

Had I kept my eyes open, I would have seen his hungry look, that suddenly turned into a sinister smirk. But I haven’t. So it takes me by surprise when he yanks me forward by my hair, making me take all of him down my throat. Still, I suck at him devotedly, even if it was getting harder to breathe. My grip on his thighs tightens, nails digging into skin and muscle.

“Is this not what you wanted?” he sneers, holding me in place by my hair. My eyes fill with tears as I look up at him, gagging around his cock. “Did you not want all of me in that greedy mouth of yours?”

I nod, whining. There’s a flicker in his eyes. Something that could almost be interpreted as sympathy. Almost.

“Is that too much for my little whore?”

His other hand comes up to pat my cheek, wipe away my tears. But his eyes? Despite the softness of his brow, his eyes remain sinister. He’s mocking me, punishing me for my lack of patience earlier, maybe even for the behaviour of his advisors today. It’s hard to tell, but it is likely.

Finally, he lets go of my hair and I pull back, taking deep gulps of air, my chest heaving with every breath.

But I am leaning in again just as quickly, taking him down my throat while I look up at him.

“You really are a greedy whore, my dear,” Emhyr smirks down at me, tangling his fingers into my hair again, but lets me go at my pace this time. He groans again, and a warm feeling spreads in my belly.

I hum around him, and feel him twitch on my tongue.

"I want you to take it all, then. Every drop."

His thighs tense beneath my fingertips, I know it won't be long now. So I double my efforts, bobbing my head, my tongue toying with his tip. With a groan, he finds his release, and pulls my head in by my hair, so I'm taking all of him, all the way down my throat. I swallow around him, drinking him in, everything he gives me.

His heavy breaths are music to my ears as I keep licking at him, suckling softly until he's entirely spent. He tugs my head away from his cock by my hair, a hint of a sated smile on his lips.

"Did I please you, my Lord?” I purr, gazing up at him through my lashes.

“Get up,�� comes his response, voice softer now, now that some of his tension has been… relieved.

I take his graciously offered hand to get on my feet. I should have known. With my hand in his, it is easy for him to push me back against the bedpost, his hands finding my hips, and his lips my chest.

His nimble fingers easily undo the fastening, a single knot, that held my dress together. The fabric pools around my feet, and he steps away, with a satisfied smile. Emhyr walks back over to the table with the wine and pours himself another glass, his eyes wandering over my naked body as he drinks, savouring — so it seems — both the view and the wine.

After a moment, he must have finished about half of the glass, he starts to move again. But not towards me. I tilt my head slightly, watching him walk straight to the side of the bed. He sets the wine down at the bedside table and moves to lie down in the centre of the bed. Another moment of silence passes, I watch him stroke his cock lazily.

"Come," he instructs.

I don't need to be told twice. I push away from the bedpost and crawl up his body, coming to a halt once I'm straddling his hips. Wordless, I lean forward and pepper his chest with kisses, and further up, to his neck. Maybe I forget myself for a moment, but I only stop when I'm just about to kiss his lips, and he puts a finger on mine, just a breath apart.

"No, Iphra," he whispers.

Right. No kissing. No love, just lust.

I pull back. "Forgive me, your majesty," I mumble.

He waves his hand dismissively, before it comes down on my ass with a sting that he soothes by kneading the cheek. My sign to continue. So I do. I get up on my knees and settle on his lap. Tossing my hair behind my back, before I take hold of his cock and stroke it a few times, before I lift my hips and sink down on his shaft.

We both let out a groan as he fills me, letting out heavy breaths once he's seated in me so perfectly. With his hands on my hips, I begin to move, rocking, feeling the delicious friction he provides.

“Oh, my lord,” I moan, my hands finding his wrist as I begin to pick up my pace, riding him harder. Looking down at him, I see him watching the spot where we are joined, the base of his cock glistening with my juices every time I lift my hips. I let go of him, and let myself fall forward, my hands on either side of his ribs now as I double my efforts, a coil already building in my core. His hand moves from my hips up my spine, making me shiver and clench around him, breathy moans leaving my lips as I meet his eyes, his pupils lust-blown, his hair a mess. Beautiful and rare.

His hand finds my hair, gripping a fistful and pulling my head back. Nearly effortlessly, he sits up, pulling me further back as he shifts until I’m on his lap and he’s kneeling below me. I let out a quiet gasp. He’s always in control when we are together. But usually, he would give orders, not take action. It makes my head spin a bit. And then his lips find my neck again, leaving rough, open-mouthed kisses along my sensitive skin. I’m his, for all of the court to see. The mark of my privilege.

In this new position, his thrusts are even deeper as he rolls his hips up into mine, pulling breathless whimpers from my lips. His groans are hot puffs of air against my neck.

And then, suddenly, the room spins and I squeal, only to find myself on my back seconds later, feeling the soft bed beneath me. The pillow dips on either side of my head, his hands supporting his weight as he hovers above me. I look up at him, a little out of breath, to find that sexy, sinister smirk on his lips again. And then he starts to move. Deep, long thrusts, the kind he has learned I love. The kind that makes me shatter within minutes; when he grinds his base against my clit, his cock stroking every nerve perfectly. My moans rise in pitch.

“My lord… Emhyr… Oh.”

I am nearing the edge, the coil in my belly tightening. He keeps this pace, my arms wrapping around him, my nails leaving my very own mark on his back.

“Are you close, dear Iphra?” he asks, a bit out of breath himself, but there is something smug in his voice. I can only muster a nod in response, mewling as my walls flutter around him.

“And do you have my permission?”

No.

I gasp, and whine when he pulls back, changing to an even slower pace, his thrusts now shallow. I feel my high slipping away. There’s that smug grin on his face again. Weren’t I so frustrated… He’s a vision, slightly flushed from exhaustion, his hair falling into his face.

He alternates between slow and shallow thrusts, and hard and deep ones. Just enough to make the coil in my belly tighten, only to fade again. I don’t know how long he keeps that up. Sweat is beading on his handsome brow, and I am close to sobbing from this inconsistent, bordering cruel, stimulation.

“Aww, what is it, dear Iphra?” Though he is mocking sympathy, it is obvious in his voice that his restraint is slipping. He’s suffering from this denial just as much as I am. “If you want to come, all you need to do is ask.”

I let out a sob. All this time? I had assumed this was his punishment for trying to kiss his lips - maybe it is…

“Please,” I gasp, nearly unable to form coherent words.

I can see in his eyes that he wants to say something more, tease me, but he does not. He doesn’t have any patience left for it, to keep up with this. Instead, he shifts to be kneeling more, strong hands lifting my thighs to sit against his sides.

“My lord…” I moan again, my mind unable to muster any other word.

My eyes roll back when he finally moves again, deep thrusts, long, and coming at a fast pace. His movements are so powerful, they make the large four poster bed creak quietly - not that it could be heard between my moans and Emhyr’s groans. The coil in my core is tightening again, growing and burning hotter with every of his thrusts. Not long now. My walls are fluttering around him, clenching, sucking his twitching cock deeper.

It’s all too much. It’s been too long. It’s… It’s…

“Oh, Emhyr!” I cry out when I finally fall over the edge, my body trembling beneath him. It feels like I’m floating, my ears are ringing.

He’s relentless, plowing me through my orgasm, desperate to reach his own peak. I can hear it in his groans, he’s close. I let my hands slide down his back, my nails leaving a light trail, and up his chest. I feel him shiver, his hips stutter, and then, with a throaty moan, he spills himself inside of me.

“Ha ha, you, my dear Iphra, you are… incredible,” he rasps between pants as he rides out his high with a few more thrusts, his spent leaking out of me and dripping onto the sheets.

“I aim to please,” I whisper into the quiet room, the silence only disturbed by our heavy breathing.

Emhyr leans down to rest on his elbows for a moment, his sweaty body covering mine, letting me feel that delicious weight on top of my body. He tucks his face into my neck.

“You smell so sweet.”

It almost feels like he shakes his head, before he lifts himself up and pulls out of me. I whine softly at the loss of fullness, and settle on my side as he lies down, facing me. Both of us are silent for a long moment. It’s what he needs before his departure in the morning. Blissed-out silence.

There is rarely any softness when we are done. Often, he just gets dressed and leaves. But now, we lie together, still sweaty and out of breath, looking at each other. I let my hand ghost over his chest in a gentle caress.

“Will you ever tell me how you got this scar?” My whisper breaks the silence as I softly touch the jagged scar stretching from his temple to his cheekbone.

I don’t receive an answer. He just smiles; that secretive smile of his, before he turns onto his back and stretches. Once he speaks, it’s like he forgot I ever even asked.

“I should take you with me. It is a long way to Cintra. I surely could use your… services.”

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scorpiobitch95 · 3 years ago

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Summary: When he spies her from across the court, Charles knows he has to have her. He can’t wait for her garnet lips to be his.

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Female OFC (no body type specifically described, not named.)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, food play, sex (p in v), cursing, oral sex (f receiving, mentions of m receiving), bodily fluids, cursing.

Author’s Note: This work is for 18+ only, no minors tolerated. You consume content at your own risk.

This one… wow it got away from me, but it just kept flowing. Charles is 😍😍😍.

@cavillsthighs gave me the brilliant idea to continue this “Lipstick Kisses” theme for more of Henry Cavill’s characters… so I am doing just that! Shoutout to her for the support and for editing this for me! LOVE YOU, BESTIE.

Taglist: @justaboringadult @greensleeves888 @cavillsthighs @beck07990 @summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @starstruckkittyangel @marytudorbrandon

✨ If you wish to be added to my tag list, send me a DM or comment on this fic!✨

Lipstick Kisses Series | Master List

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!

Garnet

The night their hands grazed one another during the King’s birthday celebration was the first time he succumbed to her magic. It was the first day of a week-long pomp and circumstance in honor of His Majesty, just the way the King preferred. The heavy smells of food and wine wafted throughout the room where the court was alive and thriving with guests engaging in lively conversations. In the middle of the hall, a dance was in full swing. That’s where Charles Brandon and his soon-to-be secret lover found themselves that evening: right in the midst of the excitement.

Her gown was ornate and shining golden in the soft torchlight; her lips were stained with the rich wine and berries she had indulged in earlier in the evening. The use of cosmetics was not a commonly accepted practice at court, so instead, for evenings like these, she tugged on her lips with her teeth and stained them with her wine to achieve her desired red-hue. Call it an alter-ego, call it her real personality, she couldn’t be sure, but she relished in the feeling of confidence that her garnet-toned lips inspired. One thing was certain — it made her stand out from the crowd.

Their hands met briefly, only for a moment, but the fleeting moment burned their skin white-hot as if they’d each mistakenly grasped a glowing ember. The heat surprised them both as their eyes met with exhilaration and curiosity, but before they could soak in one another’s appearance, the dance directed them to other partners. Charles couldn’t bear to look away from where she twirled, nor could she tear her eyes away from his dashing face. From the second their eyes locked, they knew they needed to devour the other.

After the dance transitioned to group chatter, Charles made his way across the hall to where she stood, but fate was not on their side this particular evening. He was quickly swept away to tend to an urgent matter with the King, as his presence was always immediately requested when something was amiss.

He glanced back at her as his presence was all but forced out of the room; like a moth to a flame, his eyes managed to find her in the chaos of his exit. Her devilishly red smile could have illuminated the entire castle.

He saw her again the following night. Charles was thankful, for the first time in his life, for the several layers of clothing that his outfit required. His erection strained against his pants, intense and throbbing as his breath quickened at what he witnessed: her succulent lips wrapping around the tender flesh of a small dark cherry, her teeth delicately piercing the skin. Blood surged to his groin as he watched her with lustful intrigue. The cherry juice stained her pillowy lips, tinting them a deep, rich red. He couldn’t take his eyes off her beautiful mouth.

The bustle of the party-goers was thunderous, but their energies drew together, creating a serene silence that only they were privy to experience. Her gaze locked onto him from across the room, her eyelashes fluttering slowly as she smirked at his noticing her stare. Once she had the handsome Duke’s attention, she rubbed the cherry across her lips, her dancing eyes never leaving his. A sly grin spread across her face as she wished to tease him further. Her tongue snaked out and traced where the juice had stained. His mouth hung open, dumbfounded, as she giggled quietly to herself.

Biting down on another cherry, her tongue caressed the curves of the fruit as her nimble fingers plucked away the stem.

He continued to watch her gently devour the fruit and take sensual sips of her wine while laughing with the ladies that surrounded her. Charles felt his arousal hardening further the longer he observed. Glancing in his direction every few moments, a warm flush colored her cheeks, but she didn’t let her gaze falter at his staring.

Her boldness made his heart race.

He needed to know that her kisses tasted as sweetly as he imagined.

He needed those garnet lips pleasing him, needed them covered in his essence.

The desire he held for her grew as he spied on her throughout the evening, and the more he observed her, the more he realized: this lady was not innocent. She was roping him in under her spell, and he didn’t even know her name.

Communicating without speaking, she quietly excused herself from the room as Charles did the same. They quietly snuck away to an abandoned hallway, far from the dinner festivities.

They found each other in the dimly lit space, their bodies were driven together fiercely as their lips met in a tango of their own. Hands roamed, moans escaped, and tongues collided as they conversed in the only way that made sense.

It was taboo for them to be alone together, though they found ways, regardless of societal rules. Strolls through the garden would soon find them hiding behind mazes of shrubbery, grasping and gripping each other hurriedly as their lips met in a pure frenzy of need.

Their cozy alcove at the edge of the forest also served them well; they used it for their secret picnics. These picnics were chocked full of the best wine, fruits, cheese, and bread they could find as they laughed and delighted in each other’s company. They were also full of stolen kisses and risque romps in the plush grass. Many times in this hiding spot, she had pleasured Charles to his release, loving the way his warm thick manhood felt between her swollen-from-kissing lips. She couldn’t get enough of teasing him with her tongue and savoring his taste with every gift of his salty nectar that he provided.

On an evening where the King was distracted by the most recent conquest in his revolving door of lovers, Charles was off duty from orchestrating the next chess moves for the English Army. This evening was similar to previous ones, he admired his secret lover from afar as she drank her wine and eyed him from across the room. Their affair had developed and had been happening for several weeks after that initial night. Once again, she held one single cherry and darkened her lip with it as the sweet flesh met hers.

Dancing ensued again, though this time she got to keep Charles as her partner. As they danced, her slender fingers entwined a parchment note between his thick ones. When the dance came to a close, they parted ways and she quietly slipped out of the boisterous room.

Finding a corner to fill his cup and read privately, he glanced at what she had written —

Your chambers, meet me there. Half past the hour.

Don’t be seen.

It was signed, not with her name, but with a garnet kiss print, plush and juicy red.

The thrill Charles felt in his chest as he snuck out of the party he knew was nothing compared to what the evening would ultimately entail. He was surprised at his restraint over these last days — he was not the patient type.

He’d never wanted anything so badly in his existence as the way he wanted her. Wanted to bury his head between her silken thighs. Wanted to hear her screaming out his name as her pleasure stole all of the energy out of her body. Wanted to nestle himself in her sweet pussy and feel her squeeze his cock the way she had squeezed his fingers when he was plunging into her only hours before.

Entering his bedchambers, numerous candles illuminated the room in a soft glow. The gold, black, and silver threads in the duvet and the tapestry shimmered brilliantly under the soft candlelight. She laid out on the mahogany four-poster bed and had propped herself up sensually on the lush pillows. Her body was bare, save for the wine-dyed corset pushing her opulent breasts together, creating delectable cleavage that had no choice but to spill over the top of her lingerie. She laid with her legs curled to one side, the side of her thigh modestly covering her naked lower half.

A relentless hunger engulfed his senses. Incense burned and filled his chambers with a transformative fragrance as Charles began to stalk his prey.

She watched him from the elevated bed, her eyes following his movements carefully. Warmth flooded her body as he drew nearer; she clamped her thighs tighter together to find friction to soothe the arousal growing within her.

As Charles made his way to the bed, he was once again mesmerized by her luscious lips and the color that was swiped across the delectable flesh. He was sure that she’d delighted in more cherries and wine before meeting, but as he crept closer, the pigment looked more intense than he’d previously seen. Charles smirked at the boldness of this beautiful woman. Quirking his head to the side, he questioned her silently but struggled to maintain composure as her bosom caught his attention.

God, how he wanted to slide his tongue and his cock in the valley of her succulent breasts.

Her teeth grazed her lower lip, suckling on it lightly as she looked up at him through her darkened lashes.

“I thought I could enhance our evening, my love. I think you’ll quite enjoy the look of my kisses against your skin.” She leaned forward to pick up his hand from where he stood at the edge of his bed, flipped it to view the underside of his wrist, and placed on it a gentle red kiss.

“Ahh, so you’ve indulged in a little more than simply fruit and wine, then,” the Duke chuckled.

“I will neither confirm, nor deny…” she giggled. “...Though it is made from cherry juice.” Her eyes darkened as she caressed his hand. “All the better to mark your skin with… do you find it to your liking, Your Grace?”

“Mmm…you’re lovely.” His thumb brushed against her bottom lip and she kissed him there, too, capturing his thumb with her mouth and gently licking his fingertip. Charles hummed as she placed a single hot kiss on his open palm, causing him to shudder beneath her warm touch. “I’m going to need to see these fuckable lips on every part of my body.”

Seeing the garnet kiss stain on his skin drove her wild, and any shyness she previously had left her body entirely. “I think I can oblige those wishes... Although, I wouldn’t want the court thinking I’ve bewitched you with a little lip varnish. You won’t turn me in for witchcraft, will you?”

Her hands roamed his clothed chest as she rose to her knees, starting to undress him. “You’re under my spell, but there isn’t any magic involved, sir.” She smiled cheekily as she removed the last of his ornate clothing.

His hand reached to brush the delicate skin of her cheek. His fingers were warm and soothing against her soft skin. She struggled to keep her composure; every touch he placed on her skin made her become more of him than herself. “We are keeping many secrets together, my sweet. What is one more? I could be the keeper of your secrets forever, you know.”

She giggled at his words but didn’t reply, not sure whether to take them seriously.

Never having seen the Duke in his full glory before, she marveled at his strong physique. Her fingers had a mind of their own as they glided across his skin, the dark curls on his chest entrancing her as she memorized his body.

His patience was impeccable; letting her do whatever she pleased. Charles’ paramour stood from the bed and circled his form, wishing to see every part of him.

“I need you to trust me, Your Grace, as I mark you here..” she placed a kiss on his shoulder blade, “and here..” in the middle of his back, traveling downward and tracing his taut muscles underneath her delicate fingerprints, she found herself face to face with the backs of his broad, muscular thighs. “I love knowing that in this room, you’re all mine...” her lips pressed to kiss his firm thighs and glutes, leaving cherry-hued prints in her wake.

“I’m all yours for as long as you wish to play, my dear.”

Her hands traveled up and down his flesh, teasing him as he reached to pour the decanter of red wine into their two chalices. Dark red lipstick kisses decorated Charles’ back as she explored and worshipped his sculpted form. She stood and wrapped her arms around his middle as she added more tender kisses to his back. Seeing her marks on him sent her arousal into overdrive. She brushed her sensitive breasts over the bulging muscles of his back, cherishing the feel of his hot skin on hers.

Grabbing her delicate hands, Charles invited her to sit at the oversized vanity that occupied a corner of the suite. A large mirror stared back at them as he handed the wine to her; she sipped sensually, watching his every move through the reflective pane.

“My Lady, if I may, I have something for you.” He opened a drawer in the large table, pulling out a long box tied with a red ribbon. Opening it to show her the contents, inside she saw a beautiful gold-plated necklace with a large jeweled brooch and many smaller adornments. The gilded gold surrounded striking red garnets and shimmering pearls.

A gasp left her lips at its elegance, and Charles’ mouth curled into a provocative grin at her response, as if he were a cat who’d caught a mouse. “I went to a jeweler the other day, and these rich garnets caught my attention. I couldn’t help but think of you. I had Sir Thomas craft this to accent your already exquisite beauty.”

“Your Grace... Charles… it’s beautiful... but why does it remind you of me?” Charles leaned down, clasping the necklace behind her neck. His fingers barely brushed her skin, erupting goosebumps on her body, and laid it upon her smooth décolletage.

Wickedness glinted on his sculpted face as he captured her neck with his rough kisses and breathed out, “The garnets reminded me of your plush, berry-soaked lips that I love to devour.” Her eyes caught his gaze in the mirror. Charles clasped his hands with hers, watching his Lady’s cheeks flush with warmth at his words.

She brought their combined hands to her lips, kissing the back of Charles’ hand, once again marking him with the lipstick autograph that matched her new gift. He was entranced by her beauty, watching her intently and soaking in this moment as she succumbed to her happiness. “Hmm… tell me more, sir.”

Kissing along his darling’s neck, he continued, “And the pearls.. may I just say that I was divinely inspired.” His chuckle pulsed around her; she could feel it all the way down to her core. Arousal dampened the skin between her legs with every sound emitting from his throat.

Her head cocked to the side and her eyebrows lifted in mischief, awaiting the continuance of his response. The Duke leaned close to her, kept eye contact in the mirror, and growled lowly in her ear, “The pearls were inspired by the way my cum dribbles from those deep red lips after I mark you as my own, my sweeting.” The breath that she didn’t know she was holding expelled from her mouth as she felt her need grow between her thighs.

Charles laughed darkly as she took a large gulp of wine to increase her bravery, asking him, “How could you possibly know that garnets are my favorite? How do I look, Your Grace?”

“Hmm… positively corrupt.” The Duke grinned and his fangs caught the light, making her blush profusely. The necklace fell just above her breasts, accentuating their curves and making his mouth water. Greed took hold of him as he stared at her; it was as if he hadn’t eaten in days and she was to become his last meal.

He led her back to the bed, guiding her to sit at the edge on her knees, facing away from him. Charles unlaced the ribbons of her sinful corset, releasing the remainder of her velvety flesh. He couldn’t help that his hands instinctively went to the curve of her lower back, running his fingers over her hips and tracing up her spine. Her skin felt like pure silk underneath his rough fingers. Grabbing the bowl of fresh cherries from the bed tray, he urged her, “Go and lie on the pillows, my love.”

He watched her supple buttocks sway as she climbed to the middle of the bed, lying on her back propped up as she had been earlier. Charles settled himself between her knees. Taking his turn to pierce a cherry with his teeth, he bit into a small fruit, tossed the pit aside, and immediately went to work, tracing the juicy berry down her collarbone and over her erect nipples, licking the juice he left behind.

The cherry was the light unto his path, down her breasts to her navel and then her thighs and heated center, using his tongue and lips the entire way. He found himself face to face with her delectable slit.

He’d been waiting to taste her all day.

Opening her thighs wide, he leaned in to suckle her glistening folds, teasing her lightly with the tip of his tongue.

Meanwhile, a violent thunderstorm raged outside. The thundering booms and splatters of rain on the window panes created a perfect blank canvas for the moans coming from his suite. Her body writhed on the satin beneath her as he toyed with her sensitive flesh.

“Tell me how incredible I make you feel, sweeting... Scream for me. Succumb to me. Tell me how glorious my tongue feels on your clit.”

Charles squeezed more cherry juice on her pussy, lapping it up greedily like a starved man. One of his many talents was knowing exactly how to make a woman squirm beneath his touch. Her moans reverberated off of the walls of his chambers. All five of his senses were drunk on her.

As his tongue stroked sensual circles around her clit, Charles pressed two fingers into her wetness, plunging and curling them with vigor. He hummed, his low gravelly timbre vibrating her nub. Her legs quivered and shook and she tried to back away as the stimulation built in her core, but he reached a free hand wrap around her hips, pulling her closer to him. Squeezing her ass, he pleasured her intently, giving his all to hear her moan and gasp. Charles refused to part with her sweet juices, having found the fountain of life between her thighs.

Watching her naked body come undone and listening to her moans, the Duke himself began to pant, gaining intense pleasure from pleasing his woman.

“You’re mine, you hear me? Only mine. Yes, that’s it, darling. Let go, let go.” Charles’ fucked her harder with his fingers, curling them to hit that little spot he knew would drive her over.

She bucked her hips as she came with force and moaned out his name reflexively. Her fingers entangled in Charles’ hair, pushing his head even closer to her center. He refused to stop, continuing to lightly flick her clit, sending aftershocks throughout her lower body. His hand and tongue teased and caressed her until she began to relax, coming down from her high.

He felt his lover draw sweet circles on his head with her fingers, petting him appreciatively as he placed tender smooches to her swollen mound, each one making her shudder in her orgasmic glow. She loved the way he made her come.

As Charles crawled up her body, she pulled his face to hers and pressed her garnet lips to his, sharing in the taste of herself on his mouth. She placed kisses on his stubbled neck, licking around his Adam's apple. The Duke moaned in her ear and she flooded with arousal once again. His weight was deliciously heavy on top of her, pressing her into the plush bed as he worshipped her skin.

“I’m in love with you,” Charles rasped hotly against her neck. He kissed her all over, but she was distracted by the bells that began tolling loudly in her head, bringing her thoughts elsewhere…

She didn’t want to admit that she had indeed fallen for the Duke. She didn’t want to admit that she felt anything other than lust. Love hardly amounted to a lifetime of happiness. She knew that if she admitted that she indeed loved him too, there was no guarantee she would get to keep him for herself.

Charles’ lips nipping at her skin brought her back from her wandering thoughts and she finally murmured, “I think you’re only in love with the way I feel around you, Charles. You’re drunk not only on wine but on the juices that you drink from the apex of my thighs.”

His toned arms held his strong body above her as his head lifted, pausing his ministrations. Concern flitted across his brows and he asked, “Are you telling me that no feelings have found you? None of adoration, only of fleshly desire? Because I have found myself zealously in love with you.”

Pangs of longing struck her soul, but she forcefully pushed those aside and chose to question him instead with rational thoughts, her eyes not able to meet his intense stare. “How can you possibly know that? Carnal pleasures don’t necessarily equate to love, Your Grace.”

Her hands traced his virile chest, gently petting the hair that covered his toned muscles there. She needed to know if he was truthful with his words. “Are we not simply partaking in our fleshly desires?”She asked him, struggling to maintain her confidence. “For all I know, tomorrow the King will ask you to betroth a woman… and what are you to say? ‘I cannot, I love another?’ This court doesn’t care a thing about love.”

“That,” He kissed her passionately, “does not answer my question.” His hard cock pressed against her abdomen, hot and heavy. “I want you. Why won’t you believe me?” He asked this as he slid the head of his flesh between her velvet walls, extracting a moan from her delicate throat.

Trying her best to stay focused on the topic at hand, she managed to breathe out, “Because I’ve seen you charm many other ladies to your bed before, where, for all I know, you could have ‘found yourself in love’ with them, too. I am not a fool, my dear.”

“No, you aren’t. But I have been. Can you accept that?”

She made herself meet his gaze as he hovered above her, her face becoming serious as she searched for a trace of lies in his expression.

She couldn’t find any.

Without answering, one of her hands reached behind to grab his head, bringing his lips to meet her messy red ones as her other hand reached between them to massage his heavy manhood. She rubbed the tip along her opening, prolonging her teasing. Lining him up with her center, she pushed him inside of her. His cock stretched her walls ever so deliciously, an intense rush of pleasure surging throughout her body despite the small pain that his size induced.

Charles thrust into her slow and steady while she adjusted to his size. His mouth claimed her lips once more, sucking and biting them as her hands roamed his back, lightly scratching at his skin. She squeezed her muscles around him, causing Charles to let out a feral growl.

“Sinful, you are, my dear Lady. I must have died and gone to heaven. Your sweet cunt makes me feel like I’ve arrived home,” he gasped, his breaths heavy and labored.

Charles was in awe at his lover’s beauty, how unleashed she was underneath him. Her hands found Charles’ ass and she kneaded the meaty flesh beneath her fingers as he squeezed her inner thighs, pressing her legs open wider.

He ground his hips into hers as he sank further into her, his cock bottoming out, his hip bone pressing deliciously into her nub. Shockwaves ran through her clit, her back instinctively arching up to let her meet his searching lips. He took her nipples into his mouth, lightly pinching them with his teeth as she moaned loudly in his ear.

He fucked into her with a steady pace one moment, then a tortuously slow pace the next. She felt every inch of him caressing her walls, the thick ridges of his head teasing her entrance every time he slowly withdrew from her. “That’s my girl… completely taken over by the feeling of my hard cock fucking her… shall I go faster?”

“Yes! Your Grace... please.” Her moans were lusty and unleashed, a true match to Charles’ vigor.

His grin was pure evil as he slipped out of her, despite her mewling objections. Flipping her over, he pulled her to all fours as he guided his cock back to her dripping slit. Teasing her, he rubbed the head of his cock over her sensitive clit. Her knees began to buckle, but before she collapsed, Charles grabbed around her middle and pulled her back into his chest.

He entered her again, hitting her front wall which made her shudder within his grasp. Charles marveled at how perfectly the shape of her ass fit to the bend of his hips, like they were the last two puzzle pieces completing the entire work.

She chanted her pleasure, over and over again, lost in the sensation of him. He was lost in the sensation of her. With her back pressed to his sweaty front, Charles wrapped one hand around the front of her waist as the other played with her flushed breasts, pinching and tweaking her peaks.

The Duke fucked her without abandon, flesh slapping flesh aggressively as they groaned loudly, relishing in their pleasure. He once again thanked the skies for the background noise to drown them out from prying ears, though he did not care. It was as if they had made love to one another over and over for many years — almost like they had found each other again and again in multiple lifetimes.

“Wow… you feel so good… Oh yes! Charles, I… Oh, fuck…” She came with an eruption that would put Mt. Vesuvius to shame, soaking his cock and thighs with her cum.

“You’re so pretty when you let go, sweeting. God, look at you..” Feeling her body convulse underneath his touch, Charles pumped his release into her. He buried his cock deep within her slick, holding her firmly to his hips while his hand reached around her throat, pulling her head back to his shoulder. His cum spurted into her, coating her insides, giving her a warm sense of success while Charles continued to nibble on her neck.

They looked across to the mirror, admiring the lover’s embrace looking back at them. They were both completely sated but were still aroused by the image of their bodies entwined together.

Hands roamed across skin, arms embraced the other as they watched their forms. Charles’ hand was suddenly on her clit, gently twirling his fingertips around it, overstimulating her by flicking it ever so gently until her whimpers convinced him to stop. Charles pulled himself from her warmth and his fingers slid into her folds, swiping up some of their union as he brought his hand to her mouth.

“For you,” he growled. She licked the warm cum off of his fingers, letting some of it dribble down her succulent cherry-stained lips. “Fuck,” the Duke exhaled heavily. “God, woman, the things you do to me… you are simply incredible.”

A smile spread across her garnet lips, her necklace glinting and gleaming in the glow of the candlelight. “Hmm... It is my absolute honor to please you, Your Grace.”

They laid down on the plush feathered bed in the afterglow of their carnal glory, the sweat starting to cool on their skin. She wrapped her legs around his and drew lazy circles across the planes of his body with her fingertips. Soft kisses were shared and placed everywhere they both could reach.

“Have my red-stained lips bewitched you enough to make you want to ask for my hand, Your Grace? You have already proclaimed your love, and you have already taken my virtue.” Her witty banter was not lost on the Duke; he, too, could play her game.

“Your virtue was long gone before I came along, my dear. No one’s mouth waters that much when seeing a cock for the first time.” Charles smirked at her. She rolled her eyes dramatically but laughed at him anyways. “And besides, I would be marrying you for far more reasons than just your lipstick, my sweeting. I am under your spell, but it is completely organic.”

“Why go and ruin a good thing? Do you not enjoy sneaking around with me, My Lord? Are you really willing to let go of the thrill of our secret?” She prodded him, needing to know that he meant what he’d proclaimed.

“Ruin?” Charles asked incredulously, “Getting to spend every day beside you with no limitations? Showing the world that you chose me? Spending my life with you would be the furthest thing from ruin, My Lady.”

She heard his words, but her doubtful thoughts had snakes their way back in to her head. She fell silent in his arms once more. They laid like that for a while, listening to the heavy raindrops patter randomly against the windows.

“You have yet to answer my question,” Charles finally reminded her in a low tone, savoring the softness of her body against him as his rugged hands explored her skin.

She shimmied closer into him, hiding her face as she whispered, “Don’t. Don’t make me. Please don’t make me tell you that I love you, too. As soon as I admit my love for you… I won’t be able to ignore it.”

“Look at me, my sweet.” Begrudgingly, she raised her head to meet his gaze. Charles caressed her chin, rubbing his thumb gently across it as his other hand brushed the loose tendrils of hair from her glistening face. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Your Grace, we don’t know that the King will give us his blessing...” Charles cut her off, catching her lips once more with his, sending all of his emotions into the kiss, desperate to help her understand just how ardently he wanted her. He wrapped his arms around her back, holding her close, their foreheads pressed against one another.

Again he persisted, “I will deal with the King. Will you do me the honor of letting me become your husband?” He searched her eyes for a crack in her walls, begging the universe for her to let him in. “Come on,” he joked, “don’t you want me to make you scream with pleasure for the rest of our lives?”

She barely managed to bite back a smile, massaging her bottom lip with her teeth, debating on how to answer.

“Will it help if I show you something?” he asked.

Her head cocked in curiosity; she nodded, watching his muscles ripple under his skin as he turned to the table by the bed, grabbing another wrapped parcel, this time much smaller. Charles turned back and opened it for her, explaining as he went.

“I had this made with your necklace… I hoped then, and still do, that you’ll say yes to me.” Inside the parcel lay a beautiful golden gimmel ring. The two interlocking rings shone brightly, one golden band set ornately around a large red garnet, surrounded by pearls, and the other decorated with smaller garnets; a perfect match.

Upon seeing the rings, the thoughts swirling in her mind slowed and were replaced by a sense of calm. Her heart pounded, but inside, she knew— she felt in her soul that they could face anything that came before them in this life. He truly wanted her, just as she wanted him.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” She asked him, shaking her head but accepting the larger of the two rings as Charles tenderly placed it on her finger, following by placing the other on his own. He stared her down, impatiently waiting for her answer. “Yes!” she laughed nervously.

“At last!” Charles exclaimed, his beaming smile lighting up the room. He pushed her back on the bed, attacking her lips and body with hurried kisses, unable to contain his excitement. “I hope you’ve stocked up on wine and cherries to make more of that lip varnish, my dear. There are many other places I want to see your red kisses, starting with my cock.”

* I do not own Charles Brandon, The Tudors, or anything related to it.

#henry cavill #jill writes #henry cavill fanfic #lipstick kisses #charles brandon #the tudors #duke of suffolk #garnet #scorpiobitch95 #charles brandon x reader

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zealoushound · 4 years ago

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Pass the happy! 🌻When you receive this and if you want to, list five things that make you happy and send this to some of the last people in your notifications. 💛💛💛

My kids.

My friends.

Henry (and all that new content 🥵 Lordy).

Writing and sharing my work with you guys.

Art.

#spread love #scorpiobitch95

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henrycavillobsessed · 2 years ago

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The Dark Side Of Me - Part Three

AU Henry Cavill (Detective!Henry) x female reader

Words: 1,872

TW/CW: Angst/anger. Mentions of pregnancy/miscarriage/harm to babies. Trying for a baby. Violence/blood/mentions of injury. Bad langauge. Hospitals. Nightmares/panic attacks/mental health/therapy.

Summary: Henry finally catches up with Kingsley Archer, the man who nearly took everything from him. The trauma of the attack takes it toll on you.

Notes: I really am sorry it’s taken so long for me to finish this! Life got in the way and writers block really was a thing with this one! However saying that I’m proud I’ve finally finshed my first Henry AU fic and I really hope you enjoy it as much as part one and two!

Part one is here and part two is here

Tag list: @scorpiobitch95 @fanfictionaddiction99 @angelmather1 @tomhiddlestonlove15 @freerose11 @arssunshine @inlovewithhisblueeyes @sunny-byeol @godilovetheenglishx @whitewolf51 @queenofbeingdepressed @maan24 @f1-hoff @witches-of-discovery-a @youronlygoldenangel @yaem1kosgf @dryyoursaltyoceantears @biancacisilino @arssunshinee @scorpionchild81

Sunlight filtered in through the open window, bringing with it a slight breeze and the morning chorus of birds that softly woke me. Stretching, I rolled over to see Henry’s side of the bed was empty; I frowned slightly. Always working, I thought to myself, that man is always working… I eased myself out of bed, slightly surprised by how difficult this basic motion was, and looking down I saw… a bump? A baby bump?

“Good morning, my love,” I heard his voice then, and I looked at him in panic as he entered our bedroom.

“Henry? What’s going on? What’s happening to me?” I fretted to him, but he didn’t seem to hear me.

“How are my two favourite girls today?” Henry smiled his crooked smile, my favourite smile, and he bent down to gently pull me up off of the bed and lead me towards our mirrored wardrobe.

“Henry, what do you mean? What’s wrong with you? I-“ My words choked off in a gasp.

In the mirror, Henry stood behind me, his head bent to rest on my shoulder, his smile now serene as he looked down towards his hands which were tenderly cradling my stomach, my stomach which was straining against my silk pyjama top, and all of a sudden I remembered, and a huge wave of love crashed over me, overwhelming me, and I felt tears of happiness spill from my eyes and down my cheeks…

“Oh, yes… yes! This is our daughter inside of me, isn’t it?” I looked up to meet Henry’s eyes in the mirror, and he nodded. I laughed joyfully once through my tears. “How could I have forgotten! Oh, Henry!”

Then… pain. I was once again confused, as I felt Henry’s hands tense, harder, then harder still as they crushed my stomach, began to crush our baby…

“Henry, stop! What are you doing?” I screamed, looking back up at him in the mirror, desperately.

But Henry wasn’t there. In his place, a man wearing a dark tracksuit stood behind me now, and as I watched his mouth, hidden in the shadow of a cap pulled low over his face, split into a menacing grin, and then the worst pain shocked through me, and my eyes shot down to the fire and I saw it, the handle of a knife sticking out from my abdomen, dark blood flowing steadily from where the blade had entered and I screamed and I screamed and I screamed.

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“You fucking cunt!” Kingsley Archer screamed as he wrenched his head back up from the table; blood gushed from his nose in a torrent, his cuffed hands making him unable to stem it. “You will fucking pay-“

BAM. His face once again met the metal table, and this time Henry held Archer there.

“I thought I said that I was going to be doing the talking?” he growled in his prisoner’s ear.

Archer moaned, the sound muffled and gurgled as the blood dripped into his mouth. Henry increased the pressure, mashing Archer’s face against the unforgiving surface and he was satisfied to hear the wet crunching that meant the asshole’s nose was breaking further. Yet still Archer wouldn’t cease his whining.

“Look mate, I wouldn’t have gone for her if I’d known it was your missus!”

Henry stilled behind him, fury ice cold in his heart. He bent down, slowly, sinisterly, and his voice was barely a whisper next to Archer’s face. “But it was my missus, Kingsley. And do you know what else? She. Was. Pregnant.”

And with that, the fury unleashed itself. Roaring, Henry seized Archer’s shoulders and using all his strength he wrenched him away from the stainless steel table, the cuffs attached to his arms coming free, and Archer smashed into the mirror behind him, shattering it with his head; blood dripped as he fell down to the floor, groaning, finally lost for words. Henry was upon him then, raining down punch upon punch, each blow punctured with a strangled cry, furious tears burning down his face.

“She was PREGNANT you fucking cunt! PREGNANT! You killed our baby! You nearly killed HER! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” Henry raged, and in that moment he knew his words were true, coming from a dark side of him, one he knew existed somewhere inside but had never wanted to meet, yet now he welcomed it, let this dark version come forth, because hurting Archer was never going to be enough, he needed him dead, wasn’t going to stop until he was dead...

“Henry! Henry, stop! That’s enough!” Suddenly Henry felt a pair of arms dragging him away; he struggled against them.

“NO!” he roared. “Not yet!”

James Brook’s face came into view through the black haze in Henry’s mind. “Henry, stop. This isn’t you. Stop.”

Brooks’s words finally got through to Henry and panting heavily, he obeyed, all of sudden feeling weak and spent. Angrily he wiped away the tears on his face with bloody hands, and he looked down at the mess that was Kingsley Archer. He was still alive, but barely, and amongst the lacerations and bruises on his face one eye was swollen shut, blood oozing slowly from the socket. Henry felt no regret for what he had done, instead spitting on him before storming from the holding cell.

“I hope you rot, you piece of shit,” were his last words to the animal that had nearly cost him everything, as the door slammed shut behind him.

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I wasn’t sleeping when Henry walked into my hospital room; the remnants of my nightmare still haunted me and I was terrified to close my eyes again, instead I sat bolt upright in my bed, holding on to the call button, fear leaving a sheen on my skin as I imagined the man with the cap low on his face entering, coming back to finish the job...

I was so pent up that when the door opened I screamed.

“Ssh, ssh, Y/N, it’s me, it’s Henry! It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here...” Henry rushed to my side and I clung to him, sobbing out the panic, taking comfort in his solid presence, his scent surrounding me, reminding me of safety, my Henry the detective superintendent, my protector...

As my cried subsided and my breathing returned to a normal pace, I shakily looked up at my husband’s face. He looked like hell, dark purple shadows under his eyes, curls sticking up in every direction, and looking down I saw his hands, red raw and bloodied. Alarm coursed through me.

“You found him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“Is he- Is he dead?”

“No.”

“But you got him?”

“I got him, baby. He won’t hurt you ever again.”

I cried again then. Relief that my attacker had seemingly paid his debt was coursing through me, although concern rose up underneath it.

“Are you okay though, Henry? Your poor hands...”

He laughed once, humourlessly. “I’m fine, my love, please don’t worry about me.”

“What about your job? Surely this is going to have made an impact.” I asked worryingly and Henry sighed.

“My beautiful wife, I think it’s time I left the police force. It’s been a long time coming, and this whole... situation, it’s made me realise what’s important. I’ve spent so long protecting others, when in reality I should have been protecting you. My job made you vulnerable and I will never, ever forgive myself...” He took a deep breath and continued. “Tonight I met a part of me I never want to meet again. It’s time we moved out of the city and took some time to focus on what really matters- each other. And perhaps, when you’re ready, we can try again for... for a...” his words trailed off as tears pricked his eyes and my heart broke for him.

He held me close as we both cried, cried for the horror we’d both experienced, and the loss. We held each other wordlessly until long after the sun had come up, only pulling apart when a nurse came in to see to my dressings, and even then I kept him in my sight.

“I’d like that, you know,” I said to him finally.

“Like what, my darling?”

“To move away, to the country. Kal would too,” I smiled for what seemed like the first time in an eternity and was buoyed when Henry returned it.

“Then that’s what we shall do,” he said, taking my hand and pulling it to his lips, kissing it gently. “That’s what we shall do.”

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18 months later...

In a cottage in the woods, the wind whipped through the dark trees menacingly, and screeched as it rattled the window frames and shadows danced in the thickness of the trees. In your king sized bed in the master bedroom upstairs, Henry looked down at you worriedly as you tossed and turned, moaning softly as sweat shining on your forehead. Suddenly you woke with a scream, eyes darting around in a panic, breath coming out in pants.

Henry reached out to you, and held you as you calmed down. It might have been a year and a half since the attack but you still suffered with nightmares and panic attacks. The therapist that you saw said this was to be expected, although you were making good progress with your sessions, and Henry of course did everything he could to help. He had plenty of time to be with you now he’d left the force, in fact he hated to be away from you even for a moment, hence why he’d taken a working from home job doing admin work for a security company. It was a pay cut, true, but totally worth it when it came to your mental health and safety.

Kal whined softly at the end of the bed, his nose resting on the duvet as he looked at you balefully. “Come on, boy,” you whispered and the akita jumped up. You cuddled into him gratefully and Henry’s heart was full looking at the two of you, grateful you had each other. There was still no sign of a baby in your lives although both you and Henry had spoken about it, and were tentatively beginning to try again. For now though, the big bear of a dog was doing a fine job of being both companion and child.

“I dreamt... I dreamt he was there again, waiting for me...” you spoke quietly after a while.

“I know, baby. I know it feels so real, but he will never find you or hurt you again,” Henry said, pulling you close. “I promise.”

You snuggled in closer to him. “That storm is getting bad out there, isn’t it?” you shuddered as the wind rattled the windows again and rain began to pelt down against them.

“Yep. But it’s nice and warm and safe in here, baby. Go back to sleep,” Henry replied, humming softly until your eyes fluttered shut and your breathing evened out once again.

Outside, lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the trees, and a shadow skulked back to the darkness, a shadow with a cap pulled low over its face, and a glint of silver in its hand...

The end.

#henry cavill #henrycavillobsessed #henry cavill obsessed #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill angst #henry cavill au #henry cavill x reader

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littlefreya · 2 years ago

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Tag Squad reblog pt 2

@petitefirecracker10 @margauxmargaux07 @tellingyouastory-blog @jessiecavill @queensgirl718 @justjulie1105 @sparksforkoo @scorpiobitch95 @starstruckkittyangel @savaneafricaine @krazycags01 @littlemissthistle @violetidk @constip8merm8 @carlya65 @geralt-of-baevia @eiluned @princess-of-riviaa @luclittlepond @keiva1000 @05alyaly12 @shadesofarrogance @lestersglitterglue @omniaismail45 @radaofrivia @omgkatinka @aphrodites-punch @stillreadingfantasy @obsessedwithcavill @harambelovedchristmas @angryschnauzer

Summary: Revenge is a dish best-served cold

Pairing: AU! Pirate August Walker x OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+. No smut, but sexual themes are mentioned, as well as dark themes - he is a pirate. Possible historical inaccuracy. This is not the real Blackbeard. Mentions of kidnapping.

A/N: Not beta’d. Many thanks to @agniavateira @luna-aestas and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether for the support, and thanks to @geralts-yenn because this story started as a 15-minute challenge, and I ended up writing a whole shot. There might be a part 2, and this might turn into a series. We will see after my anxiety runs its course :D

Thanks for reading, and please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :)

Neptune's Snare

The soggy wooden platform creaked beneath her feet as she climbed onto the main deck. Step by step, a husky wail sounded from the planks - a sorrowful hymn to the lost maidens of the sea - those who would never return, those devoured by the sinful desires of monstrous captain; August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker.

Whatever madness drove women to go there willingly was beyond comprehension. No more than a tomb, the ship alone looked like a carnivorous maw; black iron spikes stood firmly at the bow, and the sheer size of it was enough to strike fear at the heart of even the bravest sailor.

Yet, there she was, draped in a black velvet cloak and an ivory corset dress, willingly marching toward grave danger.

Dozens of ragged men welcomed her onboard, filthy scoundrels, all drenched in an exotic mixture of sweat and alcohol. Hungry, their eyes gnawed at her tender flesh, but none would dare touch her. If August’s crew knew one thing, it’s that some fates are much, much more worse than death.

It didn’t stop them from taunting. Suckling their lips, they followed the girl on her march toward the captain’s cabin. Cheer and chortle in their voice as they imagined the obscenities their captain was about to perform on this naive girl.

“Pity, he never let us look…” whined one of the pirates while the other bood.

“Aye, you mad to come ‘er tonight. The cap’n hasn’t had his fill in weeks, lass. He would sure pillage each of you’ holes tonight.”

“He gonna paint her full of his sea foam!”

The entire ship roared with their laughter. The girl, however, kept a blank face and, without spending any minute longer, opened the door to the captain's cabin.

Bright, golden luminance blinded Lizette’s sight as she entered the cabin. The walls were plated by ornaments made of gold, reflecting the sparkle of the hundred candles that burnt at the decorated candelabras and crystal chandelier. Fine works of art hung from each wall, and on a vast lacquered table stood a plethora of delicacies that made Lizette’s belly gurgle.

She stared at the table momentarily, almost fooled by the obvious seduction. In complete opposite to the murky exterior of the ship, the captain’s chamber was a room fit for kings, sputtering style, elegance and riches. Perhaps this was how he lured them. The poor naive girls truly believed he would give them a better life. But Blackbeard was no king, nor was he a gentleman. He was the deadliest man the world has ever known - a serpent, nightshade - all he could give a woman was death.

“Take off your cowl.”

A deep voice called from behind, dark and mysterious as the ocean. It struck like an icy shard through her spine, making her shoulders jerk and stiffen. It was odd to know someone by hundred of myths and stories spun around them and have men mimic their voice in an attempt to portray them but never know what they truly sounded like.

As it turned out, August sounds like a man one doesn’t refuse.

Obedient, Lizette pulled the cowl from her head - slow as she would unwrap a much-anticipated present. Her gaze kept to the floor still, continuing to play the coy virgin the Captain wanted her to be, though if she had to be honest - she was terrified of whatever hideous monster she would soon have to face.

There must have been a reason why the women who came here never left. Lizette was willing to bet every dime in her pocket that August was the most gruesome, repulsive creature, and the only way for him to keep people from knowing was by murdering each woman he bedded!

“Shy, aren’t we?” Blackbeard murmured with a dry chuckle and began to circle her, observing his bounty from side to side.

“I quite enjoy shy,” he chuckled once more, his voice almost a groan.

She forced herself not to flinch too much. She could sense his glare upon her, stripping her garment by garment, weighing what he earned tonight and considering all the ways in which he would pillage her body. It made her feel like she was one of the delicacies that rested on his table rather than a person.

After gyrating around her and inspecting each crease of her body, August finally returned to his starting spot behind her and, in a low, delighted groan, demanded, “Turn around.”

Doing as he commanded, she turned to him, still keeping her glance plastered to the floor, her breathing now shallow as the air in the room grew magically stuffy. She could spot his blurry silhouette from the corner of her eye; a tall and fit man, rather broad. It seemed that he was doing a loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers, and from his waistband - a gleam of silver winked back.

“Are you a mute?”

Another chill shot through her as he spoke. Absentminded, she swallowed. “No…” embarrassingly, her voice cracked; she took a deep breath and reprimanded, “No, sir. Just nervous.”

“Captain,” he corrected.

Lizette nodded but did not repeat him. She couldn’t. Words died on her tongue as the Captain made a bold step toward her, drawing dangerously near. He paused for a shy second, fingers laced together, contemplating, before he reached a fist beneath her chin and, in a ceremonious tenderness, lifted her chin.

The air drained from her completely. Her lips parted in a mixture of fear and astonishment.

It couldn’t be.

Perhaps she had the wrong man?

Grey, ocean-eyes peered at her through a face that women and men would damn themselves for. No! Even angels would. His jaw was sharp and profound, statuesque like cut marble - dashed with dark stubble and a thick raven-black moustache. His lips, though chafed from the salty sea breeze, were plumped and shaped to be kissed, and while some of his curls were streaked with silver, he still had a healthy mane of hair on his head.

‘He could have been a decent man,’ she thought, ‘and yet he chose this?!’

There was an obscure attractive melancholy to his looks - almost tragic.

August took another moment to study her face, a frown slowly forming on his ridged brow. “You look familiar…”

“I work the docks,” she answered almost immediately.

His stare deepened, eyes dropping to her cleavage momentarily before returning to pierce back into the back of her skull, “Skin too soft. Too shy to be a prostitute.”

His fingers wrapped around her chin, caging it between his thumb and his index in a tight grip, making it hurt. He tilted his head, daring her to come up with another lie.

“The tavern,” Lizette answered, firm and steadfast. She did not flinch from his touch, even though every instinct begged her to.

“And you came to me. Why?”

“What girl wouldn’t give everything for a night with the notorious Captain Blackbeard? The living legend… the king of pirates.” She softened her eyes as much as possible and offered a shy pout to reconcile him.

August chewed on the inside of his cheek; storm clouds gathered on his pale eyes as he contemplated. They both knew she was flattering him to gain his trust and save her pretty little neck. It wasn’t a situation he hadn’t encountered in the past. They both also knew that he was stronger, bigger and armed and could snap said pretty little neck in less than a split second.

“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded.

She nodded, her throat clenching.

August lingered on her response and, after what felt like an eternity, offered a small grin and pinched her chin sweetly as if to praise her before moving a step closer. Lizette smiled back nervously. She could sense his rum-drenched breath on her face. The scent was so pungent it made her moan invulnerably.

Or perhaps it was the anxiety that was eating into her heart.

“Ever sucked a cock, pet?”

His question was answered by a small click that echoed through the quarter and the press of hard, cold metal against the bare parts of his chest.

Not stepping back, he slowly, almost theatrically, spread his arms into a gesture of defeat while peering at the girl. No rage nor fear painted his face, and as he spoke, there was neither surprise in his voice.

“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”

Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.

“What is it that I do, pet?”

Offering a sly grin, the pirate pressed against the barrel; the oceans in his glare darkened. As Lizette stared back, she could have sworn the many shades of blue in his sights shifted and swayed like angry waves. Quickly brushing the thought away, she cocked the gun in a warning, her little thumb grazing the trigger.

But to August, it was clear that the girl had never killed anyone before, and the longer she stalled, the more shaky her hand became. Taunting, he moved further into the barrel, which forced her to take a step back.

“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke.

August brushed her warning away, moving forward instead. He had been so nimble in his movement, fluid, like a sea creature himself. Only now she realised that his hands were no longer in the air.

“Was it your dear mother?” He suggested. “Father? Sister?” He paused and offered a vicious smirk, “Ah… I see, A lover. Well, to that, I surely deserve to die. Go ahead, pet, pull the trigger.”

His slender, heavily ringed fingers reached to envelop the barrel, holding the pistol steady for the girl. Every breath he took pressed the metal harder against his sternum. Lizette could sense his heartbeat pulsating through the barrel wrist, the thrum of his blood nearly mingling with her own. No longer steady, her digit quivered around the trigger and in her throat, she felt the strenuous hold of anger, guilt and hatred.

“You have taken everything from me!” She simply answered.

Soon her sight became blurry, and wetness gathered beneath her eyes.

‘Do it, do it now.’

Another click sounded in the room. Louder than the cocking of a gun.

Lizette’s eyes flared in shock, and before she could pull the trigger, August had carefully veered the gun from his chest and, in a tenderness that was accustomed to lovers, snatched it from her hand. His other hand laid still on her neck, fastening the iron collar he granted her.

“Good girl,” he teased and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl who was too struck by her own misfortune and stupidity to react.

With the pistol safely placed in his waistband, the pirate stepped back, face alighted, eyes sparkling with starlight cascade, like a child who had just earned a new toy. He clasped his hands together, ecstatic; thick silver rings chiming as they collided.

“I haven’t taken everything from you, pet. but I am going to…”

With one last slanted grin, the pirate turned on his heels and marched toward the door, not bothering to bid farewell as he left and locked the door behind him.

Panicked, Lizette reached her hands to the iron collar, desperately trying to pry it off her neck despite knowing there was no logic in pulling at the heavy metal.

“Please!” Tears trickled down her cheeks and chin, “no! No! No! Please!”

Through the open window, she could hear the captain's voice barking orders, commanding his men to lift anchor and set sail.

#Tag Squad Reblog

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roamwithahungryheart · 3 years ago

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Don't be fooled, I'm just getting started...this is where the fun begins. It's time for Lauren's first smut of the year!

Henry slips quietly into the room, but with your back to the door, you don’t notice him until you feel a hot, sticky kiss pressed to your cheek. Fresh from the gym, his skin is glistening with sweat. You duck away from him, grumbling.

“Don’t groan, I know you love it.”

You turn to him, arms folded knowingly. “You just want me to tell you that you look sexy when you’re all sweaty.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“Yes.” You huff, shaking your head. “Please go shower, then you can be clean and sexy.”

“What if I want to be dirty?”

He pulls you against him with such force that you’re almost winded. You moan, feeling every inch of him begging for entrance beneath the flimsy fabric of his sweatpants. God, he’s always so hard to resist. There’s no use fighting it. You melt into him, further and further with every kiss. Soon, you’re entwined in a messy scuffle across the room. Panting as you break away, you meet his lustful gaze, grinning.

“Maybe a little cardio wouldn’t hurt.”

@harrysthiccthighss @foodieforthoughts @cavillsbestgal @myloveforhenrycavill @cherry-gemz @blowing-mikey @captainsy-cookiemonster @pussyverson @sillyrabbit81 @viking-raider @zealoushound @keanureevesisbae @littlewrenofrivia @beck07990 @luna-aestas @luclittlepond @kebabgirl67 @angreav @omgkatinka @mostly-marvel-musings @cavillsthighs @littlebirdofrivia @angelcavill66 @darklydeliciousdesires @henrys-little-princess @angryschnauzer @herefortherealdeal @cavills-little-princess @mis-lil-red @mansaaay @thwick @marytudorbrandon @uncensored-steve-the-platypus @nerdyoldsoul @aletheladyinred @thereisa8ella @janenyfl @summersong69 @miss-rebel-without-applause @scorpiobitch95 @marantha @notabronte @unauthorizedhenry @est1887 @nuggsmum @spazzymamahenrylover @nashibirne

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x you #Henry Cavill rpf #Henry Cavill smut

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years ago

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Multi-Character & Other Fic Recs

This is a list of my favourite stories and I will add to it as I go. It is by no means complete.

Please read the authors notes and warnings on all fics as some are dark. Be responsible for your own reading.

🥵 Smut

🤗 Fluff

😭 Angst

Multi-Character

Series

@angryschnauzer Blackwater Lake (Feat. Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall) There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

@shewriteswhenthewordscome One Night Only? (Feat. Captain Syverson, Walter Marshall, August Walker) After meeting a stranger in a restaurant, Marion embarks on a side job as a camgirl. She decides to thank her best subscribers by offering them an evening to remember. Little does she know, it’ll be the start of something wild and interesting for her as well.

One-Shots

@blakerogue Tap Out 🥵 (Feat. Captain Syverson, Walter Marshall) There was only one bed trope

@demivampirew Brothers 😭 (Feat. Walter Marshall, August Walker) August helps his twin brother rescue you, who’d been kidnapped.

@littlefreya Cowboys From Hell 🥵 (Feat. August Walker, Walter Marshall, Captain Syverson, Clark Kent, Geralt of Rivia, Mike Hellraiser) You enjoy a rock concert, fixating on the Viking looking drummer when someone in the crowd decides to use you first…

@littlefreya The Reunion 🥵 (Feat. Captain Syverson, Walter Marshall) A long time ago the three of you could never be apart. Tonight you will be closer than ever.

@nashibirne Double Date 🥵 (Feat. August Walker, Napoleon Solo) Your husband Napoleon Solo introduces you to his friend August Walker. Basically… that’s it. The rest is pure smut…pwp… nothing more, nothing less.

@oh-for-fic-sake The Deal 🥵 (Feat. August Walker, Clark Kent) August and Clark… At once?😈

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether The Grizzly and The Leopard 🥵 (Feat. August Walker, Captain Syverson) It is a story of a love triangle and an illegal fighting match between the reader’s two love interests.

Other Characters

Series

Charles Brandon

@henryobsessed The Duke & The Duchess Charles Brandon the Duke of Suffolk had survived the sweating sickness and been forgiven by the King but will he survive the arrival of a new beauty “Duchess Leila” to the King’s Court.

Sherlock Holmes

@oh-for-fic-sake Thicker Than Water Sherlock is drawn to his new cleaner, his fangs ache for her, he craves her in every way a vampire could crave his own little heart. But his coven comes first.

One-shots

Napoleon Solo

@scorpiobitch95 Burgundy Kisses 🥵 Napoleon loves it when you wear lipstick. He especially loves seeing the color kissed all over his body.

Sherlock Holmes

@littlefreya The Devil's Tongue 🥵 A mask of virtue hides a man riddled with lust and while his stoicism proceeds him, even he can’t withstand a begging girl.

Clark Kent

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martha-oi · 2 years ago

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•° Walter Marshall °•

°• @sillyrabbit81 •°

The itch

The Madonna whore

Not too bad for an old man

Say it

°• @littlefreya •°

Bark at the moon

Cols as ice

Leather kisses

Night lessons

Overprotected - Heart of darkness

Sounds of the abyss

Discipline

Serve and protect

Guardian angel

°• @scorpiobitch95 •°

Bring it on home to me

Insomnia marshmallows - Part two

°• @raccoon-eyed-rebel •°

In all fairness

°• @wolvesandhoundshowltogether •°

His moon

The undeserving

Hot tub date

Scratch your name across my back

°• @princess-of-riviaa •°

Medicine

°• @delicate-moon-princess •°

A word like that

Warm enough?

°• @zealoushound •°

The dinner

Fuzzy bear

°• @thelastsock •°

Kiss me softly

°• @peyton-warren •°

Into the storm

#walter marshall #fic rec #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fic #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fluff #walter marshall x you

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captainsy-cookiemonster · 10 days ago

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Part 2:

The Emperor’s Mistress - Carriage Ride

Part 1: The Emperor’s Mistress here

Summary: Emhyr and Iphra in the carriage on their journey to Cintra

Pairing: Emhyr var Emreis (Netflix) x Iphra (OFC; 1st person POV)

Warnings: SEX, MDNI, carriage sex, mentions of oral m receiving, one spank, degradation, mention of getting caught, i think that's all

A/N: part 2 by unpopular demand (this is for you @littlefreya 🫶😂) , not beta'd, typos we're goin' down swinging! How did I write this in like... Three days? Divider by @firefly-graphics

Word Count: 930

Title: The Emperor’s Mistress - Carriage Ride

Writers live off validation. If you liked it please like, comment and reblog 💕 thank you for reading 💖

We’ve been on the road for two weeks now. And over these two weeks, I have watched Emhyr’s mood sour more and more. Messengers rode between our convoy and the city, each bringing news and new development. I had to leave the carriage, every time he spoke to the messengers, only to be let in again once they had ridden off again. And each time, he looks more tense than before.

“My lord?” I ask softly. Emhyr is scowling, watching the scenery pass outside the window. Too slow, we should be nearly there already, yet, we have not even finished half of our journey. “What is the matter, my lord? Let me ease your tension.”

I had spent a lot of time in this carriage kneeling between his legs, his hand in my hair while I sucked him off, relieving his mind from the heavy burden he carries, if only for a moment.

He looks at me, his face a mask of annoyance, turns back to the window, and sighs.

“Turn around and kneel on your seat,” he orders, closing the curtains. I look at him for a moment, blinking once… twice. Was he going to…? In the carriage? And then I nod, standing, turning, and getting on my knees on the cushioned seat. When I hear him shuffling behind me, I hike up my skirts.

“You’re eager for it, are you not, my dear?”

It sends a shiver down my spine, his voice so close to my ear, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of my neck. And it's true. I need him. We hadn't fucked since we left the palace. And as much as I like having his cock in my mouth, it did nothing but rile me up, only to be left unsatisfied.

"So wet for me already," he hums, and I feel his blunt tip against my folds. Teasing, stroking up and down. Though I'm not sure if it's his doing, or the movement of the carriage on the gravel road.

"Please, Emhyr," I whimper, only for his hand to come down hard on my ass.

"Quiet, my dear." His voice is low, right by my ear, that familiar growl, like a thunderstorm in the far distance. "Wouldn't want the whole convoy to know just how much of a whore you are for me…"

With that, he grips my hip with one hand, the other coming up next to mine, bracing himself against the wall of the carriage. He pulls my hips back, and I have to bite my lip to muffle the moan that escapes me as I feel him finally entering me, filling me with that familiar, delicious stretch.

He sets a fast pace, sloppy and irregular due to the rocky path we are travelling on. Every time I let a whimper slip, he shushes me. As if the soldiers surrounding the carriage didn't know the reason why I was travelling in the same carriage as the emperor.

His pants are hot against the back of my neck. It's been too long, we both need this. Neither of us was going to last long.

"Oh, Emhyr," I moan softly, feeling myself getting closer to the edge. The risk of this situation, the excitement of us doing it in the carriage… That anyone could catch us at any point. It all sends a thrill down my spine.

"That's it," he hums against the back of my head. "Clench around me. Milk me. Make me spill into you."

And I do. I clamp down on him, though, involuntarily. His hand that was holding my hip has found its way up my body, and is pawing at my breast as he holds me against him.

"I'm close, my lord," I gasp. "May I?"

He just groans and doubles his efforts, so close himself, I can feel him twitch inside me. Just a bit more. Just a bit longer and…

"Oh, my lord! Emhyr, ah!" The coil in my belly snaps. I nearly lose my balance on my knees, shuddering with a high I had been waiting for for two whole weeks. With a deep, guttural groan, Emhyr follows me over the edge, falling forward, holding himself up with both hands against the wall. I can feel his release fill me. Warm and sticky, our essence runs down my thigh once he pulls out.

He lifts his face from my hair — Did he just? No, he couldn't have pressed his lips against the back of my head — and takes his seat on the cushioned bench across from mine.

I climb off my seat, and straighten up my skirts, while he tucks himself back into his breeches. He smirks at me, and runs a hand through his messy hair.

"Ah, my dear Iphra. What would I have done on this journey without you? Your warm mouth and your wet cunt… I would have sorely missed you." He leans back into his seat, straightening his jerkin.

"I am glad to be of service, my lord," I hum, taking my seat and smoothing the wrinkles from my skirt. Though we might have been heard… I still don't want my attire to be evidence of our… Activity. For what it's worth, he looks less tense now.

"And you will continue to do so, I am sure, my dear," he says, giving me a knowing look as I feel his release soak into my skirts, before he turns to pull the curtains to the side and watches the scenery pass by, and I pick up the book I had been reading.

#Taglist reblog

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roamwithahungryheart · 3 years ago

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This was written in a rush so forgive me but I needed a bit of fluff to start the day! x

Just as you’re about to let Netflix roll onto the next episode of your latest binge-worthy show, something distracts you - a delicious combination of smells that tantalise your taste buds in an instant. You shoot up from the couch, tossing the TV remote aside. It clatters to the floor, but there are more important things at hand. Leaving the room in a state of disarray, you hurry into the kitchen, where you find Henry pacing back and forth, inspecting the multitude of pots and pans lined up on the stove. A pair of oven gloves are strewn across the kitchen island, alongside a recipe book and a generous glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

“Gordon Ramsay, eat your heart out.”

He smiles. “Hungry?”

You meet his gaze with a mischievous smirk. “Maybe.”

Henry manoeuvres around you to grab the oven gloves. He bends down to check the oven, and standing back, you quietly enjoy the view. Satisfied, he throws the oven gloves down and takes a sip of wine.

“Should you really be drinking while you’re juggling all of that?” You incline your head towards the stove.

He raises his glass as if to toast. “Chef’s privilege.”

Eyeing the bottle on the counter, you walk over and pour yourself a glass. “Hmm, that’s fair.”

Now he’s the one with the mischievous smirk. “Should you be drinking wine this early in the day?”

“That’s my privilege.” You slink back towards him. “Know what else is my privilege?”

“What?” He sets his glass down and leans against the kitchen island, one hand on his hip.

“This.” You tilt your chin up and surprise him with a kiss - a smacking kiss that tastes bittersweet and leaves you lingering for a moment, smiling against his lips. Before you can pull away, he takes the glass from your hand, slides it onto the counter and wraps your arms around his waist. You cling to him, enjoying his warmth until the shrill beep of the oven breaks your embrace.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry Cavill fluff #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x you #Henry Cavill rpf

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years ago

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Walter Marshall Fic Recs

This is a list of my favourite stories and I will add to it as I go. It is by no means complete.

Please read the authors notes and warnings on all fics as some are dark. Be responsible for your own reading.

🥵 Smut

🤗 Fluff

😭 Angst

Walter Marshall

Series

@thesaucynomad The Final Girl Detective Marshall must catch a copycat killer while trying not to fall for Tessa da Silva.

@nuggsmum The Light Irene saves a man from the sea during a hurricane. What was he doing out there? Who is he? Can he be trusted?

@omgkatinka Breaking and Entering Your cat gets you into trouble with your grumpy new neighbour.

One-shots

@angryschnauzer Bite of the Bear 🥵 Whilst at the Syversons’ end of summer party, you and your husband Walter sneak off to watch the fireworks in private, and he proves that bears do bite... and you like it.

@blakerogue Promise 🥵 Your plan doesn’t work out the way you wanted it. Thankfully, the curly haired Detective saves the day. Though it takes a toll.

@littlefreya and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether The Kitten and The Bear 🥵 After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans.

@scorpiobitch95 Insomnia Marshmallows 🥵 Your closest neighbor and somewhat acquaintance, Walter Marshall, comes to rescue you in the middle of a blizzard. Coincidentally, both of you have trouble sleeping and find way to pass the time.

#sillyrabbit81 fic recs #henry cavill #henry cavill fic recs #walter marshall #walter marshall fic recs

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myloveforhenrycavill · 4 years ago

Note

🖤 Love train!! Send this to all the people who deserve love!! Don't forget to spread the love! 🖤

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE!!!

Thank you to @dontmindmejustprocrastinating and @scorpiobitch95 for also sending this to me :)

Tagging a bunch of super awesome people who deserve all the love in the world (I know I'm probably forgetting so many others as well)

@viking-raider @mary-ann84 @just-chirpin @fallenangelbb @zealoushound @klaine-92 @diegos-butt @luna-aestas @littlenymphie @tellingyouastory @nuggsmum @a-little-counter-esperanto @notabronte @ysmmsy @nia-s-not-so-secret-diary @marytudorbrandon @blavikennbutcher @princesscassashoneypot @ughdontbeboring @cavillsharman @seb-owns-these-tatas @omgkatinka

#sending love to you all

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stardusted26 · 4 years ago

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I am no writer, I’m just here to read all of your amazing stories!! Which is why I wish it was one of you writing about this instead of me (bc there is no way I will do it justice!) it needs some magic from the likes of @littlefreya @nuggsmum @scorpiobitch95 @jessinchains @darklydeliciousdesires @princesscassashoneypot

Anyhoo, I had such an intense dream last night that it woke me up…

Henry and I were texting all day, teasing, sending pics etc. By the time he got home, he was barely in the door before pouncing on me. He was wild with primal need, grabbing me and digging his finger tips in, smashing his lips onto mine, wrapping a hand in my hair…. Then I guess I said or did something bratty or naughty?! Somehow I was in trouble… the next thing I knew, he flipped me so I was facing away from him and he secured my hands behind my back with his belt. He walked me to our bedroom briskly and yanked down my tiny cotton shorts (think pajama shorts — I live in Texas and it is hot as hell right now).

He grabs something from the bedside table drawer and sits down onto the bed pulling me onto his lap. He starts playing with my slit, teasingly running his fingers over it, dipping just the tip of his digit into the sensitive wet flesh. The next thing I know he slips in a toy. Not just any toy… it’s a remote control wearable panty vibrator with clit and perineum stimulator. After sliding it in and out a few times he turns it on and starts torturing me. Then out of no where his heavy hand comes down on my exposed rear, again and again, and again in a punishing rhythm. Between him controlling the vibrator at different speeds and intensities, having my wrists bound behind me, his arm firmly pinning me down and the hand that was delivering deliciously agonizing spank after spank, my orgasm exploded violently — so much so it woke me up!

First of all… my heart was racing and I was hot and bothered, breath ragged…

Second of all, I was like NOOOOOOOOOOO he wasn’t done with me yet!!!!!!!! But alas… I fell back into a dreamless sleep after that 😳😳😳😭😭😭 lol

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roamwithahungryheart · 3 years ago

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I found myself missing Dad!Sy and his chaotic family from my earlier story Homecoming, so I decided to bring them back for a little festive drabble!

This was inspired by the 'Santa suit' prompt from the lovely @winter2112rose .

Sacred Heart Elementary’s Christmas party had been a success for everyone except eight year old Alexander Syverson. Still in his elf costume, he slammed the door, launched himself onto the couch, crossed his arms and sulked. Being raised in a military family meant that Alexander didn’t get away with temper tantrums for too long. His father, Jack, peered around the living room door, then searched his wife Sarah’s face for an answer.

“Alex had a bad time at the party.” Sarah’s eyes softened. “Go easy on him, Jack.”

Jack replied with a grunt, then approached his son.

“Hey buddy, Momma tells me you had some trouble at school today, is that right?”

Alexander huffed. His eyes were red and puffy. “Sorta.”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “Whaddya mean sorta?”

Alexander took off his hat, scrunching it nervously in his tiny hands. “Daddy, is Santa Claus real? Emmett McAllister said he’s made up. He made fun of me in front of everyone.”

Jack crouched down to his son’s level. “You know how sometimes I go on secret missions? Ones I can’t tell anybody about?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, a couple years back, I was part of a mission called Operation: NORAD. Do you know what that is?”

Alexander shook his head.

“NORAD is how they track Santa every Christmas. I was one of the guys in the control room, and I saw his sleigh take off that night.”

Alexander’s eyes widened. “Really?” He squealed.

“Really.” Jack nodded. “So whatever Emmett McAllister told you, it’s a load of bullsh-“ He stopped himself mid-sentence – “it’s a big ol’ lie. And you know what else?” He shot his son a conspiratorial grin. “I happen to know for a fact that Emmett is on the naughty list.”

Alexander sat up straight then. “Am I on the nice list?”

“You bet.” Jack ruffled his son’s hair. “The Syversons are always on the nice list. Go on upstairs.”

With that, Alexander shot off.

Sarah leaned against the doorframe. “I know one Syverson who won’t be on the nice list this year.”

“Oh yeah?” He grasped his wife by the waist, pulling her against him.

“Sometimes being naughty is more rewarding than being nice.” She lilted, trailing her hands down his chest, making him jolt a little as she travelled further downward.

He responded with a low growl.

“Amen to that.”

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fanfic #winterrose 12 days of christmas #Captain Syverson #Captain Syverson fanfic #Captain Syverson x reader #Captain Syverson x ofc #Henry Cavill x reader

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scorpiobitch95 · 4 years ago

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Summary: Napoleon loves it when you wear lipstick. He especially loves seeing the color kissed all over his body.

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Female OFC (no body type specifically described, not named.)

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, swearing, oral sex (m receiving), light edging, control, lipstick kink, lots of teasing, bodily fluids, slight sub behavior if you squint.

Author's Note: This work is for 18+ only, no minors tolerated. You consume content at your own risk. This story has been seriously consuming my every thought the last several days… who knew I could write so many words about this topic.. as always, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy!

Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.

Taglist: @justaboringadult @greensleeves888 @cavillsharman @beck07990 @summersong69

Tags for this fic: @zealoushound @inlovewithhisblueeyes

✨ If you wish to be added to my tag list, send me a DM or comment on this fic!✨

Lipstick Kisses Series | Masterlist

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!

Burgundy Kisses

Always the adventurous type, especially when it involved the bedroom, Napoleon embraced his deepest desires with great fervency. A deliciously attentive lover, if not sometimes overwhelming, Napoleon made it his life’s mission to treasure every inch of his woman’s skin, carrying her to heights of pleasure she’d only ever experienced at his hands.

He knew that he was smooth and that he was a man of many talents. He used them to his advantage to make his lady swoon. She wasn’t a woman who was easily hypnotized, but she had a specific weakness for Leon. She gave in to his charms with little reluctance and had come to appreciate the doting and luxurious attention that Leon gave to her, even if it wasn’t her first nature to do so; he’d trained her well.

Leon loved dressing up his girl and lavishing her with the finest items that money could buy; it was no coincidence that he called her his doll. He couldn’t help himself; he was infatuated with pretty things.

And she was the prettiest he’d ever seen.

For some date nights, Leon would select her outfit for the upcoming evening. He had an eye for what she would look irresistible in, though she didn’t need the assistance. It was a little game that the two of them liked to play.

The rules for these dates were simple: she was to wear what he had selected and bring her willingness to be spoiled.

He would buy a new dress and pair it with delicate lacy lingerie, only gifting the best to his sweetheart. When she had a beautifully wrapped package waiting on her apartment doorstep, she knew that it was time to play again.

Napoleon’s favorite part, however, didn’t actually have to do with choosing her attire. His doll would come home to find not only his outfit selection but also that her lipstick and nail polish had already been chosen and set upon her vanity.

He took extraordinary pleasure in selecting the color that would adorn her hands and lips. There was an insurmountable amount of satisfaction in choosing the colors that would later be swirling and teasing his cock.

Shades of red, pink, purple, and the occasional nude elicited excitement and set the premise for how the night would unfold. The color he selected gave instruction for how he wished for her to act, and she would comply accordingly. Lighter shades cued to a more submissive expectation, but reds, purples, and deeper shades told her to take control. On these evenings, kisses on the lips weren’t allowed; the lipstick was meant for one place only.

That time with his sweetheart, watching her dance her mesmerizing tongue and fingertips around his straining manhood, placing neat pigmented kisses upon him, was his undoing. He loved the way she trailed her colored kisses over his thighs and hips, leaving her temporary marks on his skin. The way her fingers would grip and caress his thighs, especially the crease above them where they met his hips, would make him nearly combust without any contact with his cock.

Tonight’s lip and nail choice — burgundy. Truly a symbol of power and the color of lustful seduction, Leon embraced the delicious anticipation he felt about this color selection. It was sultry, elegant, and perfectly crafted just for his girl. Burgundy had not been used for these evenings yet, but the color was one of his personal favorites. Accompanied by nude floral embroidered lingerie and nude pumps, all of this was to be worn with the black silk fitted cocktail dress that he’d had made by a designer earlier in the week.

The date began promptly upon picking her up, and after a sweetly romantic evening of wine, dinner, soft touches, and Leon’s suave spoiling, they made their way back to his loft where she could spoil him instead.

Quiet music played from the brass phonograph in the corner. Smooth saxophone and piano melodies swirled throughout the room, filling the space with electrically seductive energy.

Standing in his bedroom, his doll knew exactly where to begin: she stood confidently before the floor-length gold-trimmed mirror, her burgundy fingers softly dancing across her form. Her eyes met his as she continued her sensual self-exploration, embodying the energy of his color choice and gazing at Napoleon in the mirror as he approached her body from behind. Watching his kitten lose herself in her arousal was an exquisite part of the thrill. He was bewitched by her very essence; she was a vixen, and whether she was adorned in the garb he’d selected or otherwise, she was perfection.

An alluring glance from under her thick lashes greeted his eyes as she felt his hands glide up the curve of her back, his fingers pinching her zipper and pulling it down slowly. He guided the thin straps of her dress down her arms, the silk gliding down her body and pooling on the floor at her feet. His smirk met hers in the mirror’s reflection. Running his lithe fingers up her arms and back down her sides, he savored every inch of her buttery skin, pausing to spend extra time around the edges of the embroidered bralette that held her delectable breasts. Leon kissed her shoulder and nibbled her neck as she melted her backside into him, pressing herself into his growing manhood and leaning her head back onto his broad shoulder. Her hands covered his and guided his touch down her body.

He loved to watch the pleasure be drawn from her body by his hand. He loved it, even more, when she asserted her wishes over the sensations that he gave her. Napoleon had no reservations about giving up his control and letting his doll take the reins.

An oversized leather armchair sat directly in front of the ornate mirror. Guiding him to stand in front of it, his sweetheart began to remove his clothing leisurely, one piece at a time. Her lips were pursed in concentration, and Leon inwardly groaned. The only downside to this game was not having her kissable lips on his. Her lips were always irresistibly sweet, he couldn’t get enough of them. Tossing his suit jacket, shirt, and tie across to the bed, she made her way down to his waist, kneeling atop the black satin pillow he’d purchased just for this act.

She smiled up at him wickedly as her hands trailed up the back of his trouser-clad legs, and he saw her visibly shudder with lust when she reached his ass: he knew that she loved how these pants fit him. Her eyes had been on his backside all evening as he’d caught her staring and biting her lip on several occasions. He wore them just to rile her up; she definitely had a thing for his ass. Reaching to unbuckle his Italian leather belt, she rid him of the rest of his well-fitted suit, taking careful care to avoid where he needed her touch most.

Once he was bare in front of her, she assuredly pushed him back into the armchair with authority. His cock was already rigid and leaking and she hadn’t even begun.

She raised herself to trace her fingers down his chest, drawing careful spirals in the hair around his nipples, pinching them lightly, eliciting a soft moan from the man she was pleasing.

Leon gave in to every sensation she was creating on his body. From her light touches, the scraping of her fingernails down his stomach, the tracing of the v at his hips, goosebumps were already erupting on his skin with her every touch.

She was a master at working him up to full desperation. He hardly ever begged, but she brought him close to it; he needed to feel her lips on his body. She slowly began placing those coveted kisses across his inner thighs and hips, only letting her cheek graze his throbbing erection as she moved.

He was going crazy, but this is exactly what he wanted: he was high off the exhilaration.

Finally, with her hands squeezing the tops of his muscular thighs and her eyes boring into his, she leaned in to place her first vermillion-shaded kiss on his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Napoleon sighed with relief.

She began to tease him, using her strong tongue to worship him from tip to base and back again, placing kisses on every ridge, feeling the contours of his gorgeous cock underneath her lips. Her mouth then engulfed his length, surrounding him in a blissful bath of warmth.

Napoleon’s breathing became heavy as he took in the sight before him paired with the sensations that he felt. Watching her burgundy lips slide up and down… up and down... her mouth took in more of his length to meet her matching nails that were massaging his base.

“God damn, doll. Your mouth is pure sin.”

It may have been Leon’s game, but she was completely in charge. She hummed and moaned lowly around his veiny cock, sending warm vibrations all the way into his hips. He struggled to keep his head angled to look at her, wanting to instinctively rest his head back on the chair at her ministrations. She released him from her lips and reached to grab him, pivoting her head to distinctly lick the ridge on the underside of his cock, placing more lipstick marks upon him. Burgundy kisses now covered his manhood. These deep red smooches were evidence of every place she’d been, and the visual was enough to nearly send him over the edge into his bliss.

He tried his best to keep his hands gripped to the arms of the chair, preferring to let the sensations be completely guided by his precious muse, letting it always be a surprise as to where she kissed next. Sometimes she used this knowledge to her advantage, teasing him with just the warm pillows of her lips, barely grazing his length until he could no longer stand the teasing, and ended up twisting his fingers deep into her silky hair.

Napoleon used the chair in this room for several reasons: his favorite being the mirrors he had strategically placed around the perimeter that gave him the ability to not only watch her ministrations from the front but to also peek at her delectably shaped ass as she worked him to a tingling frenzy. God, she was a knockout.

Savoring her warmth, his hands found the back of her head to take control, but they were immediately replaced by her on the armchair. Winking at him while her mouth was full of his large cock, she suddenly released him from the warmth and Leon writhed as she blew cold air on his wet member. His doll grabbed his hands and urged him to stand, grazing her manicured nails up and down his legs.

She knew he was already close by labored breathing and the twitching of his cock. Now that he was upright, his sweetheart rose up on her knees and began kissing and tracing her tongue along his hip bones and right at the bottom of his scruffy belly, teasing him by letting him back off of the edge that he was quickly approaching. Her burgundy nails went to hold his balls, caressing and teasing them, causing Napoleon to throw his head back in delicious frustration. He reveled in the sensations she was giving to him.

“Ah, ah, ah, look at me, Leon,” she sang out softly to him as she met his eyes and leaned in to impress pigmented kisses on his balls, marking each one as hers before taking him again in her sinful mouth.

His kitten knew if she stood Leon up and angled his body just right, he could use the mirrors to see a third reflection where he could observe her burgundy painted fingers dance on the back of his thighs and his ass. She used her grip on his ass to push and pull him as she bobbed her head, enveloping his entire length down to his base as her lipstick was beginning to smear. Watching her, Leon knew she was losing herself in giving him pleasure, just like he lost himself when he was plunging into her sweet center. Napoleon moaned passionately, unable to contain his pleasure, which only spurred her further.

She pulled his thick cock all the way down her throat again, managing to place a single deep red kiss mark around his base. Leon was close to losing control, trembling beneath her touch. His doll could feel him thickening and she let her movements become erratic as he tangled his fingers in her hair once more, helping guide her to his building orgasm. As he began to cum, Napoleon’s eyes met hers and he watched her suck his release right out of him, those burgundy lips gripping him tightly while his cum drenched the back of her throat.

She guided his shaking body back into the chair and rose to go to the mirror and readjust her lipstick before continuing their activities. Leon, physically spent, followed her form hungrily with his eyes, soaking in the bliss that his amazing woman had drawn out of him. She crawled in his lap, finally pressing a kiss to his cheek, marking him as her own.

Leon wrapped his arms around his lover and picked her up as he made his way to the bed, ready to worship her beautiful body and reward her for her devotion to the game.

In his head, he was already planning his next color.

I do not own Napoleon Solo, The Man From Uncle, or anything relating to it.

#Napoleon solo #the man from uncle #Henry cavill #solo #Leon solo #Napoleon solo x female OFC #smut #kisses #lipstick #Burgundy kisses #scorpiobitch95 #Jill writes #Henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill thirst

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