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hertzwritings · 11 months

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You spin me right round (baby, right round)

A/N: Am I alive? Physically, yes. Am I okay? Probably not. Did I miss all of you guys and writing? YES. Honestly, it’s been weird not writing and keeping in contact with all of you, but I’m trying to get back to it – and that brings us to here. Also, I’ve been listening to Sleep Token on repeat, so I’m feeling things.

I don’t have a set schedule right now, mostly because I have no idea if I’ll be posting regularly or just on a whim, but for now, I’m just getting back in the groove of things!

Your comments, likes, reblogs mean the world to me and would definitely help me stay on it, so if you’ve got anything to say, say it, my loves.

Remember English isn’t my first language, so if there’s errors in grammar or language, try to overlook it. Love you all!

Also, please be gentle wit me on my first day back – it’s like being nervous to start a new school, really.

MASTERLIST

Ask me anything/requests/tag list requests

Pairing: NotFamous!Henry Cavill x female reader

Warnings: Language, dorks being dorks, meet cute, strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, smut (18+, minors DNI), dirty talk, slightly dom/sub, spanking, p in v, tongue on v, blowjobs, slight Msub to Mdom, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, petnames

Wordcount: 4633 (whoops)

You spin me right round (baby, right round)

Laundry day. Probably the worst of days, especially considering the hefty trek from your 5th floor apartment to the basement, which would be bad enough in and of itself, but carrying the massive load of laundry down without a functioning elevator without spilling half of your delicates did seem like an almost impossible task.

At any rate, you were going to do it, and you were going to be a strong, independent woman, who could definitely carry it down and back up again without dropping a thong or three (like last time, where Pete from 5D was lurking).

You heaved the blue IKEA-bag higher on your shoulder, silently cursing yourself for not actually doing the damned laundry more than you did, and began the descent into the musty basement, your trusty laundry-tokens jangling in your pocket of the loose shorts, you were wearing.

It took longer than you’d like to admit, and you almost did drop the entire bag down a flight of stairs, but you made it and with a loud grunt, you pushed the door to the basement and laundry-room open, almost stumbling inside.

“Oh.” You locked eyes with a very handsome stranger, who looked up from the only dryer, hands still buried pretty deeply in there. “Oh, you need this one?” He asked politely, and that voice – smooth velvet, mixed with a deep rumble that settled nicely in your chest and between your legs. The accent didn’t help at all with how attractive you found him, either, and you shifted your weight slightly. Fuck. “I-I… I’m… Not right…” You squeaked, silently cursing yourself for wearing your gray, tattered t-shirt with a faded logo on it, that definitely did not do anything nicely for your shape. You cleared your throat. “No, I’m sorry, no. I’m still in the early laundry-stages.” You said with a smile, and immediately wanted to die. Laundry stages?? He grinned, a fanged tooth catching his lower lip. “Alright. New to the building?” He asked, casually loading a basket with his clothes.

“Sort of. More of a recluse, that have been living here for a month, and just never do laundry at normal people-times.” He chuckled and stood up to his full height. He was an impressive man, easily towering a head and a half above you, and he looked enormous. Muscles rolled under his perfect skin on his arms, and you couldn’t help your brain going in all other directions than polite talk with a neighbor. “Well, nice to meet you, recluse. I’m Henry.” He balanced the basket on his hip (a beautiful move, if you were honest) and extended his hand, which you cautiously shook. “I’m Y/N.” You said with a small smile. His hand was warm and the grasp was firmer than you had expected, small callouses on the tips of his fingers that graced the inside of your wrist deliciously. Fuckedy fuck. “Y/N. Good name.” He winked at you. “Oh, don’t use the second washing machine…” He pointed to the washer with a bright red 2 painted on it. “Stinky Pete from 5D used it, and I don’t want to imagine what on earth he washed, but it still smells vaguely like rot.” He winked at you. “Bye, Recluse Y/N!” And with that he left, leaving you slightly shellshocked and a scent trail of hazel and wood behind.

It went on like that for a few weeks; you showed up, he was already there in various states of undress (once you even came face to face with him in just boxers, because he had spilled what appeared to be red wine everywhere) and you exchanged pleasantries before leaving the basement and going back to your apartment, sighing deeply over the fact, that you never actually talked to the handsome stranger.

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A while later, a little past midnight, you were back at it (still no working elevator) and found yourself face to face with the very handsome British man, who this time was wearing fucking gray sweatpants and a tank top, that definitely didn’t leave anything to the imagination. You could see every single muscle underneath the shirt as he loaded the laundry.

“Ah, look who’s back!” he grinned at you. “I saved the best washer for you, but don’t tell Mrs. Selton on the fourth. She can’t know I play favorites, or I’ll never get cookies again.” You laughed. “Alright, your secret’s safe with me, sir.” You said and stood next to him, before starting to load the washer. He tried to say something, but almost bit his tongue and groaned at the sensation. “Are you always this smooth?” You asked, laughing slightly, as he began coughing. “Inhaled… Spit…” He coughed again. When he was finally breathing normally, he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll have you know, this is in no way an indication of how I handle normal interactions with people. It’s late, and I’m slightly flustered.” He said with a small smirk.

“Mhm.” You nodded, while mindlessly stuffing your washer. “Sure, I’ll believe you.” “Hey, you don’t know me.” He said, leaning against the dryer and crossed his arms. “Maybe you know my name, and probably the color and general state of my underwear, but you don’t know me.” “I never said anything.” You grinned and closed the lid on the washer. “Wait, that’s not even close to full.” He tsked at you and opened it again. “You have to really stuff it in there, or you’ll be down here until morning.” “Excuse you, can you get your hands off of my laundry, you weirdo.” You slapped his hand away. “Maybe I don’t want my clothes overly wrinkled, have you considered that?” You asked. “Pfft. That’s the charm of communal laundry. It’ll always smell a little like other people and it will be wrinkled.” You guffawed. “Sure thing, Henry. Any plans for tonight?” you asked, mindlessly pouring detergent into the container. He looked at you with his head tilted slightly, a few stray curls bouncing onto his forehead. Goddamnit, it should be illegal to look like that when doing laundry. “Eh, not really. It’s Sunday, Sundays are for me and my boy.” You raised an eyebrow. “Your boy, huh?” “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I am indeed a parent. I have a child.” He said proudly, leaning over you to press the on-button for you. You jumped onto the counter behind you and sat down on it, insistingly ignoring the creaking of the wood beneath your butt. That’s an insecurity for another day. “Really?” He nodded. “Would your boy happen to be a giant dog?” he frowned. “How the hell did you know that?” You pointed to the unwashed load of laundry, where a suspicious amount of hair had settled on pretty much everything. “Why are you pointing at my... Yeah, well, that is a lot of hair…” He looked back at you with a furrowed brow. “Why are you even looking down there? My laundry should be sacred!” He said teasingly, covering the basket with his arm. “Well… That’s… Uhm… Anyway.” You laughed. “Are you just down here for fun, or did you wait for me?” You asked with a grin. He shrugged. “Oooor… Did you wait for me down here, because we’re the only people in this building that are somewhat close in age, and you are trying to befriend me, which is why you’ve hidden a bottle of wine in your laundry?” “Stop making assumptions that are astutely accurate, it’ll turn weird soon.” He groaned, and – as you thought – pulled a bottle of rosé out of his laundry. “I’m not astutely accurate, I didn’t know it was rosé.” You grinned. He laughed lightly and cocked an eyebrow. “To be fair, it’s mostly because I have nothing to do, and I have a feeling you never celebrated moving here. So…” He opened the bottle with a swift move and pulled two red solo cups out of the basket. “Drink?” You laughed.

“Love to.”

“Okay, come on, why on earth are you keeping these?” He asked, holding a very old thong between his fingers. “Shut up, and stop fondling my underwear, you freak!” you quickly grabbed it from him with a laugh. The bottle had been emptied, and a new one had been brought down and for some reason, in your tipsy mind, it was a great idea helping each other folding each other’s clothes while you were waiting on the load that was currently spinning in the dryer. “I’ll have you know, some clothes are sentimental!” You said, throwing the thong into your blue IKEA-bag. He snickered. “How on earth is tattered and holed thongs sentimental? Besides, to be quite frank, at this point it’s just… Like… A string.” He laughed. “You’re the one to talk! You threw a pair of his socks at him. “I have never seen so many pairs of boxers with holes in them!” He shrugged. “I call it the surprise.” You frowned. “The surprise?” “The surprise.” He moved closer to you, and every single hair on your body stood up, while your breath hitched. He whispered into your ear, closely enough for you to feel his lips touch your earlobe. “If I’m feeling very saucy, I’ll simply rip them off and yell surprise!.” He said and laughed, sending vibrations through your entire body. “Ah, why of course. That’s a totally normal thing to do.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes a little darker than usual. “As opposed to being sentimentally attached to a thong?” he asked, his arms caging you in – it wasn’t an unpleasant experience, but it did make your thighs shake a little. His scent enveloped you completely and made it almost impossible to think. “Many tings are sentimental. Underwear, stuff…” You answered lamely. He laughed, a low rumble in his chest and cocked an eyebrow at you. When did his face get so close? “Ah, of course. Stuff and thongs. Nothing better than relieving the good, old days of… Black thongs?” He said softly, his breath fanning over your face. It was intoxicating. “Right. Besides, you have no right to judge me when your underwear looks like it could’ve been made during World War two.” You retorted, shifting slightly in place. He chuckled. “Well… Maybe I have to get new ones, then.”

His lips were so, so close to yours, all it would take was just a little nudge and you would be connected. He was intoxicating as he had you caged, muscles rolling in his arms, his scent of wood and something inherently Henry fully filled your brain, and you almost moved your head, but the sound of the dryer going off pulled both of you out of whatever that was.

“Second load done, one more to go!” He said a little breathlessly and pushed himself away from you – you let out a breath, you didn’t know you were holding and jumped down from the counter. “Great.” You whispered, bending down to grab whatever was in there – you would’ve just kept going, if it wasn’t for the small groan that sounded behind you. You turned your head around and caught Henry looking at your ass. “Excuse you.” You smirked. He cleared his throat. “Were you just looking at my ass, Henry from 4C?” “Uhm… No, I… I-” He groaned. “Fine, I was, but you can’t blame me! You’re bending down like that, and you’re wearing those fucking shorts… I can’t help it, you’re fucking gorgeous, darling.” You shivered. “Oh.” A thick silence fell between you, and you slowly stood up, laundry be damned. “Yeah, well… It’s an unfair advantage, I really tried to be proper and all that, but... Jesus Christ, Y/N.” he groaned again and closed his eyes – the small twitch in his gray sweatpants did not go unseen by you. “Respectfully, are you wearing anything underneath those sweatpants?” You asked, slightly out of breath while heat and wetness were pooling in your panties by the mere idea. “Maybe, maybe not. Are you wearing anything under that?” He asked, opening his eyes slightly. “No, my sentimental thongs are in the laundry.” Wherever the confidence came from, you had no idea, but his reaction to you was more than enough for you to keep going. You were slightly shaky as you moved a step closer to him. “Y/N…” He whispered. “Henry…” You were chest to chest to him now, his lower back against the counter. It was slightly exhilarating to have the control, especially over such a big man as Henry. “Henry…” You whispered his name again, and a fucking whimper fell from his lips. Yeah, fuck this.

You pounced – as best as you could, height difference and all – and the moment, he realized what you were doing, his arms wrapped around you and lifted you slightly, so your lips could connect. It was electric. No, not electric, it was like a symphony of colors, feelings and it was like plunging into cool water, when his lips touched yours. You moaned against his lips, and he gasped, letting your tongue glide against his. Deepening the kiss, he straightened up slightly, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist, holding on for dear life. Your lips and tongues slid against each other fervently, a slight groan reverberating from his throat send you over the edge. You bit his lower lip, pulling a soft moan from him, and wrapped your hand in is hair, tugging it slightly. The reaction was better than you could’ve ever imagined. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, squeezing hard, while a mix of moans and your name tumbled from his lips to yours – you could feel his hard length pressing against the sweatpants and your shorts, and you were sure you were leaving wet spots on his pants. “Fuck, Henry…” You mumbled his name, and he turned around to place you on the counter, before going to your throat, kissing and biting. You moaned at the feeling and threw your head back. “Harder.” You moaned, and felt him smile against your skin, before his teeth sunk deeper into your skin, his large hands tightening their grip on your thighs, causing you to roll your hips. “Fucking hell, darling, I can almost taste you from here…” He whispered against you, his hands moving upwards. “Hmm, really?” You moaned, rolling your hips again. “Nobody’s stopping you.” You tugged his hair again for good measure. “No, you’re right about that.” He mumbled, his hands dancing up, up, up, until they reached the waistband of your shorts and gently pulled them down, letting the fabric slide down your legs – you lifted your ass from the counter, allowing them to fully fall off of you, and he groaned at the sight in front of him. “Fuuuck, darling… I can see how fucking wet you are… Can I taste you?” He asked, his darkened eyes finding yours, chest heaving. You cocked an eyebrow. “Ask nicely.” He chuckled, a thick finger gliding along your hip, slowly inching towards your mound. “Please, Y/N, please… Fuck, I need to taste you, please, let me taste you… let me eat you out until you cum on my tongue.” For a seemingly proper British man, he was filthy. “Yes.” He didn’t wait a second before moving down your body, teeth catching both fabric and nipple on his way down, before he stopped, licking his lips, while looking at your exposed, dripping pussy. “Y/N…” He mumbled your name like a prayer, and before you even had the time to breathe, he licked a thick line along your lips, parting them with it. He moaned at the taste and dove in like a man starved. You mewled at the feeling, his tongue moving around your clit, fingers still on your inner thigh, and you could barely hold your upper body up as his tongue dipped inside of you. “Fuck, yes… I want to feel you cum on me, darling…” He mumbled against you, his hips rutting slightly into nothing. “Fingers. Please, fingers.” You managed to moan as his tongue went back to your clit, hardening against it as he began to eat you out with an intensity you’d never experienced before. He obeyed silently, adding two thick fingers into your dripping pussy, curling them upwards. You bit back a scream as they filled you, slowly sliding in and out, hitting your g-spot over and over, while his tongue did magic on your clit; you’d forever be ruined by this man, and he hadn’t even been inside of you yet. “Fuck!” You bit back a scream as he sped up, tongue and fingers working in perfect unison to pull you closer to the edge; he chuckled darkly against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your clit. “Be quiet, little bird, or someone will hear.” He said slowly, taking a small break from your clit. “Fuck off, it’s like three in the mo-or…” You didn’t finish your sentence, as he dove back in, this time with a speed and intensity, that could’ve killed you on a different day. “Shit, I’m gonna…” He moaned as you tightened around his fingers, and he slurped your juices from you, keeping the pace as best he could. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby… I want to feel you cum, can you cum for me, please…” He whimpered as your pussy pulled his fingers deeper inside of you, and you shook slightly.

You couldn’t stop it, even if you wanted to. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, white spots appearing in your vision, and you felt, more than heard, his moaning as you rode your orgasm out on his face and fingers.

“Fuck, baby, look at you… You squirted for me, didn’t you, darling?” he looked up at you with a devilish smirk on his face, that was shimmering with your cum under the low fluorescent lights. You moaned – his fingers were still going in and out of you. “Now…” he whispered, his voice dangerously low. “You get on your knees, darling.” E stood up and wiped his face gracefully, putting a single finger in his mouth. “You taste fucking amazing.” He grinned at you and stood to his full height, a sense of authority filling the room. “Knees.” He commanded, and who were you to deny that? You slid down from the counter on shaky legs and landed on your knees, looking up at him. “Fuck, darling, you can’t look at me like that, I’ll fucking cum here and now.” He groaned. “Well, where’s the fun in that?” You said while your fingers grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled them down, letting his cock spring free. You almost salivated at the look of it. Thick, throbbing slightly, a thick vein running down the length of it and a drop of precum sparkling under the lights. He was huge. “Well, what are you waiting for, little bird?” he chuckled, before he cut it off with a moan, as your lips wrapped around the tip, and you slid down as far as your jaw and throat allowed you to. He moaned as the tip hit the back of your throat and you choked slightly on it – you were dripping wet, as you began to move back and fort on his length, swallowing as much as you could, reveling in the taste of is precum. He twitched slightly and a choked moan spilled from his lips, as he thrusted forwards. “Fuck, baby… Shit, you’re really... Fuck… Good at this…” He moaned. You smiled around his length and moved faster, hearing the choked moans above, spurring you on. “Fuck, baby, stop, stop, stop… Stop, I’ll cum if you keep going…” You whimpered as he pulled away from you, a line of spit connecting you, and you looked up at him with big eyes. He groaned and held your chin with a large hand. “Good girl. I want to feel you before I cum, darling.” He whispered, gently guiding you up to your feet again by your chin. He kissed you deeply before turning you around, bending you over the counter. “Fuck, this ass… You’re a fucking wonder, baby…” He reveled, a hand falling on your ass. You moaned at the sensation and your hips bucked, exposing yourself more to him. “Oh, look at you, doing so fucking good for me already, aren’t you?” he whispered. You moaned again. “Henry, please…” You whimpered his name and tried to push back to get him inside of you, but he chuckled and held you tightly in place. “No, baby girl, you’re going to stay right there.” He ran a hand down your spine and slapped your ass again, forcing a whimper from you. “Now, you ask nicely, and I’ll fuck you right here, right now.” He said darkly, his hand gently running circles over your ass, sometimes dipping between your legs. You coked on a moan, and barely had the wherewithal to create a coherent sentence. “Please, please, p-please, fuck, Henry, please… Please f-fuck me, I’m begging you-u…” His finger dipped inside of you. “You want to feel my cock slowly slide inside of you, baby?” He asked, dragging his finger in and out painfully slow. You whimpered a broken yes. “Want to feel me dragging against your walls, huh? Want me to fill you, let my cum drip out of you?” You were a shaking mess as another finger was added. “Y-yes…” You felt like crying. It was so good, but so torturous to feel his fingers glide so fucking slowly. “Ah, you can do better than that, darling.” He said, bending over you – you could feel the tip of his cock against your ass, as his mouth found your neck again. “P-please, Henry, please… I want to feel your cock in me, please…” “Mhm… I want to fill you up, darling… I want to watch my thick cock slide in and out of your tight pussy, seeing you take me…” He rambled, fingers moving faster now, and you groaned at his words. “Fuck, y-yes, Henry, I’m b-begging you, please…” you mewled. He withdrew his fingers too quickly for your liking, and he spat on your already soaked pussy, before lining himself up. “You think you can take all of me right now, baby? Let my thick cock go as deep as it can, huh?” He asked, rubbing the tip against your entrance, smearing the wetness around. You nodded, desperate for anything at this point. “No, no, that won’t do, little bird.” He tsked at you and his free hand wrapped around your hair and tugged slightly, arcing your back as your head got pulled back. You moaned loudly. “Mhm, keep the sound down, we’re in a public area, sweetheart.” He said with a small chuckle. “Ask me and mean it.” He ordered, the tip of his throbbing cock so fucking close to glide inside of you. “Fucking fill me, or I swear to god…” you begged, and whatever you wanted to say got lost in your throat, as he slid inside of you swiftly and in one, single thrust, bottomed out.

You shrieked in both pain and pleasure, your legs shaking and if he hadn’t kept a tight grip on your hair and waist, you’d probably collapse. “Oh, good girl, look at you taking all of me… Sit, it looks to fucking good to see my cock in you, baby…” He mumbled. He didn’t move yet, simply allowing you to adjust. After a few seconds, you rolled your hips to let him know you were good, and he chuckled darkly. “There’s a good, little slut, darling.” His words combined with his voice sent wetness down your thighs as he began moving, slowly at first, before picking up speed. You felt every single twitch inside of you, and he filled you to the brim. You had never been so fucking full before, and you’d never want to stop, if you were honest. He angled himself a little better and pistoned in and out of you; you saw stars and a red-hot burning started in your abdomen seconds before your orgasm hit you; it was blinding and your legs were barely functioning as you came around him, your pussy pulling him deeper, as your thighs got soaked and he moaned. “Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, Y/N… Fuck, I’m not going to last long…” He moaned as you twitched around him and met his thrust, the sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the otherwise quiet room. “Fucking fill me, please… I want to feel you cum, I’m b-begging you…” you moaned, almost delirious at this point. He roared and bit down on your shoulder, before he picked up speed and began fucking you fiercely, his tick and long cock hitting your cervix slightly. You mewled and another rush of wetness went down your legs, as you neared another orgasm while he whispered praise and encouragements in your ear.

“Look at that fucking… Oh, fuck…” He groaned and thrusted harder than ever, his rhythm becoming irregular. “Look at you taking me so well, darling… You’re doing so good for me, can you cum again?” He licked the spot, he had just bitten. “Can you cum for me again, baby girl? Let me… Fuck… Feel you cum again?”

As if you could deny him.

He clamped a hand over your mouth as you came wit a scream, your pussy tightening and pulsing around his length as he fucked you into oblivion. He roared with pleasure and his hand moved from your waist to your ass, grabbing it harshly before picking up speed and chased his own high. You were shaking, barely coherent as he fucked you relentlessly. “Henry… Fuck, please… Let me feel you cum… Fuck, p-please, I want to feel you fill me, please…” You moaned his name like a prayer, and he growled before his speed stuttered. “Fuck, baby… I’m going to fill you up, you’ll be dripping for days… I’m so fucking deep in your tight pussy…” he mumbled, his hand bruising your ass, wile he pistoned back and forth; he fell silent for half a second, before you felt him swell and twitch slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.” He growled. “Mine.” His cock pounded you relentlessly. “H-henry… Shit, y-yes, yes, I’m yours!” You mewled as he twitched again.

Ropes of his cum painted your insides, and you came with him as you felt the heat of his spend inside of you. Henry growled as you tightened around him again, and he jerked his hips so he was a deep as e could be, whispering praise to you, as you rode out your own orgasm.

You stayed bent over the creaky counter, sweat dripping form the both of you, his cock still inside of you, for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath.

“Shit, that was…” he whispered, kissing the bitemark on your shoulder gently. You shivered. “Mhmm…” Words did kind of fail you at the moment. He seemed to understand whatever you meant, at any rate, and chuckled gently, before slowly pulling out with a hiss. “Jesus Christ… You’re a fucking wonder, you know that, Y/N?” He asked, the sweetest smile painting his features. You grinned with slightly bruised lips, and pulled your shorts back up. No reason to try and clean up. “Says you.” He bent down and grabbed the black thong, that was more string than fabric at this point, at stuffed it in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Sentimental value, you know?” You laughed. “Does this mean I get to see your surprise-move?” You asked jokingly. He cocked his eyebrow and a smile spread across his face – he was a goddamn Adonis.

“Well, I do have more wine in my apartment… And a bed…”

“Lead the way.”

TAGLIST:

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