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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 7 months

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Pumpkin spice

Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Walter Marshall x librarian!reader

Summary: You finally manage to get a date with the handsome barista from your favorite coffeeshop.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), p-in-v sex, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), a cheesy (romantic) date, a short appearance of Mike The Idiot TM, awkwardness, a lot of coffee and abuse of a cable knit... I think that's it?

A/N: Another promise made to @deandoesthingstome. I swear this woman is responsible for half the stuff on my masterlist at this point. Credit for the other half goes to @geralts-yenn of course. This time, it was - of course - because I made the mistake of adding one of the - according to her - more attractive Henry-shaped men to the Coffee+Cats universe. Naturally, grumpy coffeeshop manager Walter needed a hug and some good head, and Charlie volunteered, so here we are.

What we're left with is a crazy crossover between the Coffee+Cats AU and the 179th Crescent Street AU, because this is - indeed, for the people who are familiar with Crescent Street - the librarian!reader from After Hours.

@ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

The brooding man behind the counter has been getting on your nerves for weeks. His only crime is ‘getting your order right’, which shouldn’t even be all that surprising, because that’s his job – if it weren’t for the fact that he seems to know exactly what it’s going to be before you’ve even opened your mouth to speak.

“What can I do for you today?” He could look less godlike, maybe? Don’t say that. Or he could smell worse? Or that. Or he could not smile in a way that seemed to make the earth stop spinning. Very dramatic, also don’t say that.

“Ehh…” Brilliant. Someone should give you an award for that monologue. Shake it off. “Since when do I have to order for myself?”

Alright, you’ve made him chuckle – God, that’s a delicious sound – and look away. Now what? “I’m sorry,” he says, still avoiding your eyes, “I can’t read you today. But you seem annoyed enough with me to make me want to make whatever you’re going to order lukewarm in case I get it thrown in my face later.”

“That’s too bad,” you say, “I was really hoping to get a recommendation.” Because you only know what you want to order when you’re here for coffee. And you’re not here for coffee. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Well, why are you getting coffee today?” Son of a bitch! It’s a good thing the shop is slow right now, so you’re not holding anyone up with your… is it flirting? God, let it be flirting! No, definitely not flirting. Or maybe…?

“Maybe it’s not the coffee so much as the company,” you say shyly. Yeah, flirting. Qualitatively very poor flirting, but still. It stays quiet on the other side of the counter for a beat too long, which sends your anxiety through the roof.

“So, how about she has whatever you’re having when you go on your break in about... A minute and a half?” The voice belongs to Mike, the almost annoyingly upbeat barista you’ve seen around countless times. He’s responsible for at least half the college crowd that flocks to this place, because he’s a cutie. A little young, maybe, but he has a nice ass.

“I was going to go with a regular old espresso.” He smiles apologetically.

“You look like you could do with a double.” God, that’s a horrible line.

It’s Mike who ends up laughing. “He could do with way more than a double,” he snickers, shooing Walter away from the cash register. “Get out of here, or I’m getting you both pumpkin spice lattes.”

Walter shudders at the thought. He never struck you as the kind of guy who likes his coffee sweet, and you’re happy you’re right. At least… You think you’re right until you see the little twinkle in Mike’s eyes. Granted, that happens a lot, but never for nothing, and the little wink he throws your way suggests he knows his boss has a secret pumpkin spiced sweet tooth he doesn’t want the world to know about. So you pretend not to notice.

When you’re finally settled at a table, you talk for what feels like forever, your knees touching under the table. You’d expected him to move his leg out of the way when you first bumped into it accidentally, but he didn’t. Then, as your conversation went on, more and more of your legs got mixed up together.

“Walter?” For the love of God, why? “I hate to break up your date, but a whole sorority just walked in and I can’t do this by myself.”

“I’m on my break, Mike,” Walter grumbles in return, clearly not happy about the interruption. That’s a good sign, right?

“Your break, Mr. Manager, sir, ended forty-five minutes ago.” Mike would make a great wingman, if it weren’t for the fact that he seems a little keen to pat himself on the back for his efforts. “Give her your number and come do your job.” With a dramatic sigh, he walks back to where he’s supposed to be.

“I’m really sorry,” Walter says with an apologetic smile on his face. You shrug it off – it really doesn’t matter, he wasn’t even supposed to have spent the better part of the past hour with you – and slide your phone towards him.

A poetry reading in a – different – coffeeshop in town. That’s where he suggests you go. First, any man who is creative enough to come up with something other than ‘a drink’ or ‘dinner’ is worth a shot in your book, but when they’re of the dark, gloomy, burly variety; all the better. And no three-day-wait nonsense, either. He calls you right after his shift ends, and asks you to meet him in two hours.

It's barely a fifteen-minute walk from your apartment, which leaves you with plenty of time to complain quietly to yourself that an hour and forty-five minutes is not enough time to get dressed for a date, while getting dressed for your date. You manage with time to spare – five whole minutes – which you spend pensively checking out your outfit in every imaginable angle in the mirror on your bedroom door. You toy with the hem of the skirt you’re wearing, fondly remembering another time you put it on. You’re not one to kiss and tell, so only a few of your closest friends know the crudest of outlines to the story of your scandalous liaison in the university library – and the long night that followed. Not that you’re particularly happy that those same friends, to this day, still tease you about how you – a grown woman – let yourself get talked into a night in student housing with a guy just about so much younger than you that you really didn’t want to even begin doing the math, but you wouldn’t trade the memories for anything in the whole world.

One look at your watch tells you it was time to go, and with trembling hand you open the door of your apartment. It had been sheer, dumb luck that even got you this place in the first place. It's tiny – just the second floor of a beautiful old townhouse – and narrow, but it has a separate bedroom, which was all you could really wish for with your income, anyway. During this time of year, the street it was on looks like a picture; orange leaves bravely cling to the steadily baring branches of the trees, and litter the ground, making for the perfect autumn scene. The sight also never fails to make you more desperate than usual – even for you – for coffee.

You’ve always enjoyed the fall, including all its necessary trials and tribulations – slippery sidewalks that weren’t quite suited for folks with your level of coordination, the unannounced rain that mercilessly drenched you and your absolutely everything in the early morning so that the sleeves of your coat would be unbearably wet when you put it on later in the afternoon, the cold that had you shivering and covered in goosebumps more often than not, and your toes. Freezing. Always. On that front, living in an old, drafty apartment with less-than-efficient heating isn’t exactly your top choice. Oh well.

The coffeeshop is – as per your calculations – a little less than a fifteen-minute walk away from your place, and you dread being early. Getting there first. Waiting for him. Fortunately, when you round the corner, you see him standing outside. You happily note that he is standing there – again, outside – in nothing but a dark cable-knit sweater, jeans and sturdy shoes that are the most weather-appropriate part of his outfit as far as you’re concerned.

“Hello.” His blue eyes smile down on you, and you barely remember your own damn name. Was he always this tall? This big? This handsome? A nervous smile will have to serve as your answer, because you’re at a complete loss for words. He doesn’t seem to mind.

For a moment, you stand there, simply staring sheepishly into his eyes, until finally a drop of rain falls right on the tip of your nose, pulling you from your trance at once. “We should get inside,” you say softly.

Walter reaches an arm out. “After you,” he says with the same kind smile in his eyes. You pick a table in the corner, settling nicely on the comfortable couch, while Walter grabbed the two of you coffee.

“Pumpkin spice,” you chuckle when he returns with two identical steaming cups. He nods, a playful smile in his eyes, only. “Is Mike the only one who knows your secret?” Your nerves convince you that your shot at playful banter goes wide, until Walter sits down and chuckled.

“There’s, eh… There’s this woman,” he says softly. To your surprise, he doesn’t sit in the chair opposite you, but he joins you on the couch. As the café is filling up, another customer quickly confiscates the chair Walter isn’t using.

“Don’t worry, she won’t tell,” you say, your voice trembling as you briefly consider the possibility that he wasn’t referring to you.

When the reading ends, you linger until the shop closes – which isn’t too long after, but still, you find it comforting in the sense that you’re simply glad Walter doesn’t try to run as soon as he can. Outside, the rain has picked up, and if the autumn air was chilly before, now, it’s downright icy. Despite his lacking a jacket or coat, the cold doesn’t seem to bother Walter, and though the rain clearly does, he offers to walk you home – an offer, mind you, he’s not intent on allowing you to decline.

It would have been obvious to anyone just under half as nervous as you are, but neither of you seem to be in a hurry to get you home, despite the rain, both clearly dragging out the little time you both think is still left to this date. Until you reach your front door, that is, and you both look at each other.

“Do you want to come up for a drink?” Is that your voice? Your invitation? And is that him? Accepting your offer? Apparently it is, because he follows you in when you open the door. The stairs to your floor are almost too narrow for him, and he has to watch his head for that one ridge in the ceiling of the stairwell that you never look out for because you’re small enough to never have it bother you. “This is me,” you say nervously as you open the door and invite him into your place. He seems comically large in your tiny living room, and you barely manage to suppress a chuckle. “Coffee?”

“Please!” he says before he shivers visibly.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry,” you say as you realize – what you consider – your error. “I shouldn’t have… You must be wanting to get home and get out of your wet clothes, I…” A hand on your cheek and the heat that, despite being soaked through and through, radiates off his body cuts you off mid-apology.

“I wouldn’t mind getting out of these clothes,” he says slowly, his voice dark and husky in a way that makes your breath stick in the back of your throat for a moment, “but I don’t see a reason to wait until I get home to do that.” Without waiting for a response, he captures your lips in a scorching hot kiss that almost make you forget that both of you have wandered – slowly – through the pouring rain for nearly fifteen minutes.

Large hands gently tug your coat off your shoulders until a single move of your arms makes it drop to the floor, then they’re at your waist, pulling you closer. His lips are gentle, surprisingly soft, and his beard scratches against your cold skin. When you reach for his face, and your fingers connect with his skin, he inhales sharply.

“Are your hands made of ice?” he mumbles against your lips, his lips pulling away in a grin. He takes your hands away from his face, draping your arms around his neck instead, where you weave your fingers into his messy curls. They’re all but soaked from the rain, and part of you wants to offer him a towel, but another – much bigger – part of you swears it will die if not attached firmly to big, big man. Walter pulls you close, not expecting an answer to his question, and carefully slides his tongue along your bottom lip, begging you to let him in. You do, and you allow yourself to be swept away by the gentle yet thorough way in which his tongue explores your mouth, dances with yours.

With near-greedy impatience, you push him back, towards the door of your bedroom, longing so desperately to feel more of this man than you currently are. ‘Stumble’ is an apt descriptor for the way you cross the threshold into your room. Here, too, he seems almost too large for the space – which is so small that from where he’s standing, he couldn’t fall in any direction without hitting a wall. Your bed covers the whole wall beneath the window, easily taking up half the space, with your wardrobe taking up most of what’s left. You might have fit another bookcase in there, if it weren’t for the fact that you prefer your bathroom door actually closes.

Without thinking, you reach for the hem of his sweater, your fingers purposely lingering on the skin beneath, which – despite being damp from the rain – still radiates heat. Under your touch, his grip on your waist tightens, and his abs twitch. There’s more muscle to him than you’d thought, and you find another pleasant surprise when you rake your fingers over his stomach. So pleasant, in fact, that you can’t suppress a soft chuckle. Nothing says ‘perfect fall hookup’ like a deliciously hairy man. Now, if only that damned – and dampened – sweater would come off, that would be so amazing…

Frustrated groans escape the both of you when the garment puts on more of a fight than any sweater has the right to, and as soon as it’s on the floor, Walter kicks it out of the room for good measure. Your hands eagerly travel the now-exposed skin of his chest and back, making him shiver and moan loudly as you drag a single fingernail softly down his spine. He captures your lips again, stringing you along into the depths of another scorching kiss, fingers working diligently to untuck your sweater from your skirt. A soft growl slips from his throat as he finishes his mission, only to encounter the fabric of the blouse you’re wearing underneath the sweater – you really do get cold easily. This time, he is far less friendly in his approach, pulling almost recklessly at the fabric that finds itself so rudely between your body and his greedy touch.

Your sweater meets a fate similar to his, and your hands make quick work of just enough buttons of your blouse that you can pull the thing over your head while his hands continue their exploration slightly further down, following the soft curve of your ass and pulling you closer to him as he goes. His mouth barely leaves yours – he alternates between using just the right amount of tongue, and nipping at or sucking on your bottom lip. Paired with his obviously horny impatience, it’s nothing short of divine.

You can’t wrap your head around how warm his hands feel on your skin, but the contrast with the chilly air of the room is both staggering and arousing. Not that Walter had thus far been unsuccessful in arousing you – quite the opposite, in fact. His lips move to your neck while his hands roam your back and sides, hesitant to grab more of you. What does he think you’re going to do? Object?

Your hands are already undoing his belt, eager to take the final pieces of wet fabric off him so you can finally seek the solace of your warm bed, and he lets you, kicking off his shoes while you struggle with the buckle. Finally, he takes over, taking care of the tricky metal contraption with one hand while staring directly into your eyes. It’s at that moment that you finally realize what all of this is doing to you…

The arrogant little smirk on his face while he licks his lips doesn’t help – the whole thing sends shivers down your spine and your body answers with a greedy throb between your thighs. You manage to kick your own boots off before Walter mercilessly tackles you to the bed. With a single, swift move, he rolls you both over, pulling you on top of him so you’re straddling his thighs, his hands firmly on your ass, kneading the soft flesh with admirable determination. His face does a poor job of hiding the fact that he likes what he’s feeling.

When you bend over to press your lips to his again, you shriek in surprise as his hand disappears from its newfound playground and lands there again, only a moment later, with a firm smack. He shoots an apologetic look at you as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his by means of a faux-admonishment you’re nowhere near serious about. A man like that can manhandle the ever-loving fuck out of you every damn day. When he groans, your insides turn to jelly. In the heat of everything that’s been happening, you haven’t exactly been paying attention to what this has been doing to him, but that move of your hips makes you instantly aware of the very impressive erection you’re sitting right on top of. Another moan escapes him when you repeat the motion, his hands grabbing your ass tighter – nudging you, urging you to keep moving.

Suddenly, he sits up on the edge of the bed, keeping you in his lap, his hands finally moving underneath the fabric of your skirt. Walter moans again – appreciatively, this time – when his fingers explore the soft lace of your underwear. Then, he chuckles. “For someone who gets cold a lot…”

“Shut up,” you reprimand him before kissing him hard. The line between fun and functional is thin, and it wasn’t that you were expecting to end up in bed with this guy, but you sure as hell were hoping you would, and peeling off tights in the heat of the moment has proven disastrous on many occasions thus far. You shiver when he runs his hands up and down your thighs, lingering just above your knee, where his fingers toy with the hem of your thigh-high socks – an absolute requirement in your marginally successful attempt to not freeze to death – and you feel his cock twitch as he does. He likes them. Good.

Apparently, your smirk is too much for him, because he grabs the backs of your thighs and lifts you like you weigh nothing. Next thing you know, you’re on your back, and Walter hovers over you, diligently seeking out the most sensitive spots on your neck. He kisses a blazing hot trail down your chest, pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched up around your waist. You can almost feel his gaze between your legs, and the way he licks his lips wrings a whimper from your lips. Seconds pass in which you anxiously wait for his reaction – a mocking grin, a victorious chuckle or a vicious smirk filled with pity – but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel a hand on your thigh, creeping higher until you’re not sure if ‘thigh’ is still an appropriate label. His thumb softly trails the thin fabric between your legs. The smile that appears on his face isn’t mocking, cocky or challenging – it’s peaceful and almost grateful in a way you don’t quite understand.

“My turn to get you out of your soaking wet clothes.” It’s a joke, absolutely, but it’s a gentle one, just like his hands are when he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, and he slowly pulls them down.

You’re holding your breath. At first you don’t notice – it really isn’t until his hands slide up your thighs again and you suck in a desperate breath that you realize just how welcome the air is. He pushes your legs apart, settling comfortably between them before using his thumbs to spread your pussy wide. Insecurities plague your brain. You should feel exposed. Insecure. Uncomfortable.

You don’t.

Walter looks up at you with a question in his eyes, and you mouth a breathless answer to his unspoken query. Please. Carefully, he inches closer, until you feel the tickle of the coarse hair on his jaw against the sensitive skin of your thigh. You can see the shiver travel down his spine as he licks a single stripe through your folds, and you moan in unison. Almost immediately, your hand weaves into his hair, pulling his face closer to your center.

He's thorough, relentlessly lapping at your clit while you squirm in his arms, strong hands firmly pressed to the back of your thighs, keeping your legs open for him while he takes his time exploring you, tasting your arousal and learning what works for you. After some time, you notice he settles into a rhythm that might actually work for you, which – as you’re somewhat reluctant to admit, even to yourself – is a rather rare feat. Encouraged by the movement of your hips and the sounds you make, he continues on his mission, and before long your grip on his hair tightens and your squirming gets worse – so much worse, in fact, that he reaches around your thigh to steady your hips against his mouth.

Outside, the rain threatens to turn into a thunderstorm, and if you’d been in any position to notice the weather, you’d have been happy to be inside. As things are, you’re still quite content with your whereabouts, but luckily for completely different reasons. Your back arches off the bed when you come, crying out Walter’s name as you do. With trembling legs, you lay there, your walls pulsing and clenching around nothing. He lets you catch your breath for a moment, his lips never leaving you as he kisses a path up your body again, effortlessly reaching for the clasp of your bra on your back. He doesn’t find it – your favorite just happens to close in the front. Once found, however, that pesky clasp is no match for his capable fingers, and only a moment later you’re shivering as the cold air of your bedroom brushes past your exposed nipples.

He looks at you briefly before latching onto your neck again, gently sucking and biting your skin, making you shiver. One hand finds its way to your chest, fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh, fingers brushing tentatively past your hardening nipple, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers. You whine, writhing against the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your skin – the result of the electrifying combination of the slightest sheen of sweat meeting cool air. He grins. Chuckles. Then, he bends his head to suck one nipple into his mouth, that capable tongue passing over it, toying with it, sharp teeth grazing sensitive skin, luring cries of pleasure from you in abundance.

Your hands all but scramble for the waistband of his underwear, slipping into the dark boxer briefs without a trace of patience. Fuck. Fingers wrap around – try to, at least – his unapologetically massive cock, images of that one night flashing before your eyes as you give him a few gentle strokes. A trembling exhale tells you your ministrations are appreciated, and you smile, hoping this is only the tip of the iceberg – a hope that is soon confirmed truth when he lets out a loud moan as you run your thumb gingerly over the underside of his cock.

A hand on the back of his neck, pulling softly, is enough to guide him to lie down next to you, and he smiles up at you when you sit on your knees. He’s all too eager to help you get rid of his underwear, and when you take your sweet time taking him in, in all his glory, he almost looks shy.

You start with a light kiss on his lips, then work your way down, fingers trailing the expanse of his chest, dragging slowly through the coarse hair on it, further and further down over his abs until they meet his hips, where they linger to draw teasingly light patterns on his skin. A featherlight touch of your lips to the tip of his cock makes him twitch and groan, and a soft tap on your ass urges you to keep going. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and with the tip of your tongue, you circle the head, teasing him until he’s impatiently moaning. His hand hooks around your thigh and pulls you closer – at first you wonder why, but soon after, his fingers run along your slit, searching for your entrance.

He pushes two fingers into your wet core exactly when you swallow as much of his cock as you possibly can, and both of you let out a long moan at the same time. You bob your head up and down his shaft in the same rhythm his fingers pump into you. It’s easy to figure out he likes it sloppy, and you’re happy to oblige. With the delicious symphony of moans and grunts that spill from his lips as an inspiration, you’re enjoying yourself greatly – which makes it all the more disappointing when he pulls his fingers back, a sharp smack on your ass breaking your concentration.

“Come here,” he says huskily, impatiently tugging at your arm.

You straddle his thighs again, reaching for the drawer in your nightstand to grab a condom, and waiting entirely impatiently for him to put it on. Normally, you’re somewhat nervous about being on top, but tonight, you couldn’t care less. You need this man inside of you.

Now.

Walter helps guide the tip of his cock to your entrance, and you slowly lower yourself, screwing your eyes shut at the stretch his incredible girth provides. Nails dig into his shoulder so hard he hisses, and you rest your head on his shoulder, whining pitifully against his skin.

“Easy,” he shushes you, sensing whatever distress you’re feeling, “take your time.” His permission helps; you slow down, and steadily make it all the way down his length. You take a moment to get used to the stretch, gradually relaxing around him. It feels no less full, but definitely increasingly less uncomfortable. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. It’s impossible to keep quiet – luckily, you’re not the only one who can’t seem to hold their tongue. Soft praise is mixed in with the abundance of expletives that come out of Walters mouth. “That’s it.” A personal favorite of yours, especially when he says it – a gravelly snarl through gritted teeth.

You could ride him forever – sure, your thighs will be sore tomorrow, but it’ll all have been worth it. Right? He clearly has other plans, pushing you off him unceremoniously. You’re on your stomach, and you half expect him to turn you around – but he doesn’t. Rough hands drag you to your knees, and – knowing what’s about to happen – you don’t bother raising yourself up on your elbows. They’ll give out in no time, anyway. Walter lines up behind you and sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust that has you gasping for air. He’s rough and demanding, yet kind and careful, clearly trying not to hurt you. Every thrust wrenches a moan from your lips, and your hand snakes between your legs, fingers drawing tight circles around your clit until you’re teetering right on the edge of bliss. His laughter when you beg him for more, harder, faster is largely obscured by the sound of rolling thunder outside the window. Your orgasm, when it finally does rip through you like an explosion, is theatrically accompanied by an almost unnaturally well-timed lightning strike.

“Dramatic,” Walter notes dryly behind you, his strained voice signaling his stamina knows a limit after all. In a moment of poetic justice, the storm lulls for a moment when Walter’s orgasm forces a sound from him that could be described as many things, but not ‘charming’. When he pulls out, your walls clench against nothing, and you whine softly at the somehow overwhelming emptiness. “Bathroom?” Walter asks, pointing at the other door in your bedroom. You nod, speechless, before collapsing on your bed.

His return marks the start of that awkward hooked-up-on-the-first-date-dance. Stay? Go? Hookup? Date? Yes? No? You sigh your relief when Walter hesitates for the shortest possible moment before crawling under the covers with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and allowing you to snuggle into his chest.

“Do you mind if I stay?” he asks, a playful edge to his voice. “It’s raining.”

“Is that the only reason you want to stay?” you chuckle. It’s strange. Normally you wouldn’t be so confident he hadn’t been genuine in his remark.

“Well, eh…” he mutters as he nuzzles your hair, “there’s this woman…”

The sun is an unwelcome intruder in your house the next morning, and you do your very best to hide from the rays as long as possible. A new preferred method: burying your face in Walter’s chest. A very nice added bonus to the approach is that it comes with strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you tight. As far as you’re concerned – and you’re well aware that it’s a little soon to say this after one date, but it’s not like you’re planning on proposing today – you’re not letting this man walk, ever again. He didn’t complain when you warmed your icy feet against his legs yesterday, and the only reaction you get out of him when you put your cold hands on his body is a low grumble and an involuntary shiver.

“Morning,” he groans after a while. By now, you’re awake enough to at least make an attempt at playing host.

“Coffee?” you ask – a suggestion that’s met with an approving grunt.

On your way to the kitchen, you come across his discarded and banned-from-the-bedroom sweater – and you make the mistake of stepping on it, shrieking in surprise when the damp fabric touches your already cold foot. Coffee first, you decide.

“I have some bad news,” you say as you enter your bedroom with two cups of coffee in your hands, his sweater dangling from your pinky. “This is still wet.”

“Oh, god, no,” Walter says with a smile, “whatever will we do to pass the time until it dries?”

#walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #night hunter

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fastlikealambo · 8 months

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t𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 p𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛 c𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚕. || d𝚊𝚛𝚔 a𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚊! f𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚢 f𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚡 bl𝚊𝚌𝚔!f𝚎𝚖 r𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2/3

Summary:The spring semester has begun and Reader finds herself ensnared in the trap of charismatic psychology professor, Henry Creel. When her relationship with the professor becomes all consuming and strange things begin to occur, Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Eddie race to uncover the truth before they lose Reader forever.

Warnings: mental health discussions, past trauma, mental abuse, murder, gaslighting, violence, hypnosis

Link to part one.

“I’ve spoken to your other professors, they say you are brilliant. I think they are incorrect, wouldn’t you agree?”

You looked at your psychology professor of only three weeks, bewildered with mouth agape, semi resembling a dying sea bass. There’s no sign of joking in his tone or sparkle in his eye, as if he asked you about today’s weather rather than anything else.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand, is this about the test? You gave me an A, did I do something wrong?” You asked, sinking into your blazer while Professor Creel observes you like a cat sunbathing near a mouse, just as content to watch potential prey as it is to hunt it.

“Every answer was correct, I can see that you studied, however I can also see that you are deeply and utterly mindless. Your mind is as empty as it is open and I think you know that.” He said again with no hint of malice.

You stood up, bag in hand, already going through the hours of the registrar in your mind to see if you could drop intro to psych today, a tight smile on your face. You knew the rules, if you did not smile, you would be seen as angry and to be angry and brilliant is only admissible for whom the world indulges.

“I’m sorry Professor, I think there was a mistake with the registrar and I’m not actually supposed to be in this class. I don’t want to take a spot from a student who needs this class, I hope you understand.” You said voice even and turned toward the office door but his hand closed tightly around your wrist.

Somewhere, a clock chimed.

“Let go, you’re hurting me!” You yelled but a clock chimed again and you stood still.

“I’ve been watching you for quite some time, so lonely, so guilty. I can fix that, I can fix you.” He whispered but you yanked your hand out of his grip, racing for the door.

A clock chimed again and stiff as a board, you fell backwards, silently creaming for help.

For them.

Robin’s scream ended just as quickly as it began, Nancy’s hand over her mouth.

Eddie, Robin, Steve, and Nancy stood almost as still as you did, rooted in fear of you making even the slightest movement.

Nancy was the first to make a move, fast and silent up the stairs with the rest of her lovers on her heels, whispering back and forth as they made their way to the third floor banister you were poised to swan dive off at any minute.

“What do we do?”

“We have to wake her up!”

“You’re not supposed to wake a sleepwalker, Steve!”

“Does that look like sleepwalking, Robin?”

It didn’t.

It looked like you were frozen in place, eyes open but not open, fluttering this way and that, standing on a thin banister that was not meant to bear the weight of a human being in Bart Simpson socks.

It looked horrifying.

It looked impossible.

Steve made a move to grab you first but Nancy stopped him, drawing him back.

“Nancy, what the hell?!”

“If you do it too fast, she could get hurt, you could get hurt! Look at her, she’s not moving at all, we’ve made noise, there are noises all around this house and she’s still not moving. Whatever we do, we have to do it slowly.” Nancy explained, looking back at you, the fear she had tried to keep from her face in full force.

Steve nodded, moving slowly with Eddie on his other side, practically in slow motion in their short agonizing walk to you. Steve gently snaked one arm around your waist, the other around the back of your knees while Eddie waited to guide the rest of you safely down to the ground.

Robin scampered over to an old ratty chair on the landing, grabbing its cushion and placing it down on the ground as a marker for them to place your head. Nancy took a spot right next to them, three fingers in the air.

“On the count of three, okay? One, two-

“So no one told you life was gonna be this way?”

The downstairs tv blared and a clock somewhere else chimed, causing you to open your eyes wide with a gasp.

And your foot to slip.

You don’t know how he was not seen but Creel carried you to his car like a broken down doll, your eyes wide open and stuck as he shoved you in the trunk with something else.

Not something.

Someone.

“Please don’t try to scream, you’ll choke. She was a failure like you but I couldn’t make her better, I tried so hard to make her better!” Creel bemoaned, hitting the steering wheel over and over until his knuckles turned red before straightening in the driver’s seat.

“You won’t remember this but it’s nice to have some company for the kedeia. We can go over your new academic career while we drive! You will be seeing me four times a week for tutoring, evaluation and further punishment. After this semester should you not disappoint me and I don’t kill you, you will change your major from that garbage to a double major in classics and psychology with me as your adviser, won’t that be perfect? You will have to live with me and leave those degenerates behind but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.”

Creel continued to talk but all you could do was stare into the face of a dead young woman you now recognized as your former classmate, her bloated face frozen in an expression of pure terror mere inches from your own.

He propped you up in the car somewhere in the woods behind campus and made you watch as he reorganized a funeral pyre.

He had done this before.

“To Athena, we commit one of your failures to the earth. May her disappointments burn away as quickly as her flesh.” Creel whispered, tossing a lighter onto her body.

All you could do was let out a choked guttural moan as he got back in the car.

“Don’t be afraid, it will be over soon.” He whispered, lips on your cheek.

Somewhere, a clock chimed.

You were falling.

There was no time to wonder how you were falling or why when hands roughly lifted you, your arms nearly pulled out of their sockets as your lovers hauled you back over the railing, falling over in one breathless heap.

No words are spoken on the floor, just weak attempts at catching breath and subtle glimpses at the railing to affirm that whatever just happened really fucking happened.

Robin’s around your middle first, her head resting on your stomach, tears wetting your apparently sweaty t-shirt, holding you so tight it should have hurt but the weight of her keeps you from dissolving into screams.

Nancy’s next, hands running up and down your body to check for blood or bones that would have broken had you actually fallen. When she’s satisfied you are not mortally injured, she draws her forehead to your feverish one, hand cradling the back of your neck, a series of quiet sobs escaping her.

Eddie’s hands sort of hover over you, face in between in worry and damn near grief, too scared, too relieved, too everything to touch you at first before giving in and leaning you against his chest, rocking you, for his benefit or yours you’re not exactly sure but you don’t want him to let go.

Steve’s lips meet every inch of exposed skin, a fury of wet kisses all over you in an attempt to drown out the sound of his own muffled crying but with one last kiss on the top of your head he breaks, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks, arms stretched wide to somehow hold each and everyone of his lovers.

The moment you’re truly enraptured by their almost sorrow is when you allow yourself to shatter, sobbing in fear and confusion, holding on to Robin, Nancy, Eddie, and Steve as if your life depended on it.

Because it did.

A clock chimed somewhere but this time, you didn’t hear it.

“The last thing I remember is you coming to pick me up from tutoring, everything before and after that is a blur. Everything’s been blurring together these days, I know there’s something wrong but I don’t know what, it feels like I’m losing time.” You said, draped in just about every blanket in the house, sitting on Steve’s lap, his arms around you like a seat-belt, Robin holding one hand and Nancy the other.

“You don’t remember anything that happens when you see Creel?” Eddie asked, pacing around the living room.

“Not really, I have these flashes, a clock, the trunk of a car, a fire but I can’t put them together, it’s like something doesn’t want me to.”

“ Or someone.” Nancy said grimly.

“Professor Creel is doing something to me, something I can’t fight, something I can’t control, all I know is that it-

“Will all be over soon?” Robin finished, placing your notebook on your lap and you look down at the pages.

“This is my handwriting but I don’t remember writing this. Fuck, what’s happening to me?” You exclaimed, eyes watering all over again as Nancy took you in her arms, transferring you from Steve’s lap to her own.

“What if this isn’t you losing your mind? What if you were warning yourself?” Robin asked, looking down at the paper again.

“ Again, share it with the class Robin.” Steve huffed.

“Whatever Creel is doing, you’re fighting it, you just don’t remember doing it. Those flashes, this paper, you’re leaving yourself clues. You’re not a mad woman, you’re a goddamn survivor.” Robin said, kneeling in front of you, taking your face in her hands.

“What if I’m not strong enough to fight him?” You whispered.

“You don’t have to be, we are.” Steve said, with a hand on your shoulder, kissing your neck.

“We won’t let anything happen to you angel, he doesn’t know that we know and we can use that to our advantage.” Eddie said.

This was all so overwhelming, your head was killing you, and you couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you.

“Baby, your nose!” Robin exclaimed and you looked down to see blood dripping down onto the blanket.

“He’s going to kill me.” You muttered quietly but Nancy calmly tilted your head forward and kissed your blood stained lips.

“Not if we kill him first.”

This is going to be a three part story! Sorry for the wait, but I hope this makes up for it.

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚡 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚞

#the fruity four #the fruity four x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #the fruity four x black reader #dark academia au

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soursvgar · 1 year

Text

yayy the first thing im posting here! I just thought a cute christmas theme drabble is needed so enjoy it, especially my fellow lucifer hoes.

gn!reader

---

"Wake up, y/n."

Your eyelids slowly flutter open to the frail touch of a hand, ghosting over your cheek. Jet black locks only millimetres away from your face, hovering over the cheerful grin that greets you awake.

"It's snowing." Lucifer claims, causing your gaze to tear from his and trail over to the window; The rare sight of a white blanket covering over the trees, the ground, and every sharp boulder in the devildome meets your eyes. You blink once, twice, waiting for the breath taking image to disappear and make way for the usual dark, red toned scenery. But instead, the shining snow twinkle over the roads, almost granting the kingdom of hell with a lit facade, as if the sun touched it even just for a mere moment.

A knock on the door, along with the rapid shift of weight in your bed distracts you from proceeding to admire the snow. Lucifer has rose up from his seat to open the door to his annoyed looking little brother.

"Breakfast is r-ready." Mammon mumbles through his teeth, eyes not leaving Lucifer's persistent, almost stern gaze. "So don't make me wait for you, human." he mutters, almost offended at the inaudible exchange of possession before he walks away.

"Ignore him." You open your mouth to protest but Lucifer cut your worries short, not letting you utter a single syllable over someone who isn't him. With one swift move he ushers you out of bed, gesturing towards your closet. "Now wear something warmer and come down, will you love?"

A few moments later and you were already making your way to the dining hall, wrapped in a snug jacket. Who would believe that hell could get chilly?

"Good morning, Henry!" Leviathan cheers, causing the rest of his brothers to raise their eyes from their plates and disengage in a dull conversation. You were frankly quite surprised not to have heard endless bickering first thing in the morning.

"Good morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?" Satan greets, making the realization sink as soon as your eyes glide past his shoulders.

"Satan what are you w-"

"Not. One word. Please." His frown was enough to make you bite your tongue, holding in your reaction that tilted between cooing and straight up laughing. His usual green sweater was replaced with another green, itchy looking sweater that was decorated with cats playing under what seemed to be a Christmas tree. Dare you say, the kind of neon green that would make someone like Satan want to gauge their eyes out before wearing. His gaze meets you, as if begging you to ignore it and just sit down instead, but you make the mistake of taking a note of the other brothers, and their sweaters.

"Diavolo..." Mammon was the first one to break the awkward silence, earning a sigh from the rest at the mention of the demon prince's name alone. "It was his idea, he wanted us to feel the Christmas spirit, so he bought these and asked us to wear them, y'know?"

"More like threatened us to-" Belphegor adds, tugging in dismay at the magenta sweater that covers his upper body, one that features a small cow snoozing under yet another Christmas tree. "We thought we could make Beel eat them to get rid of them, but Lucifer mentioned that Diavolo was actually so excited for this idea that he ordered them himself from Akuzon instead of letting Barbatos do it. And then, he accidentally ordered a hundred pieces of each sweater instead of just one." The others nodded in agreement, hoping you could spare them the shame and avoid the topic for the rest of breakfast.

"Come on guys, cheer up. These sweaters are actually kind of cute. Apart for the... daring colors, maybe." You choose your words wisely, but it doesn't stop Asmodeus from dramatically standing up from his seat and protest. "This is a disaster, y/n. How can I walk around RAD wearing this, and ruin my fashionista reputation?" Asmodeus huffs. "And besides, this isn't even my size." He sits back down with a pout, sticking his fork at the untouched food on his plate.

"Wait." Your attention then shift to Lucifer, who's wearing his regular uniform. "How come Lucifer isn't wearing any sw-"

"Did you all finish your breakfast? We're going to be late." Once again cutting you off, he exhorts you. "Assuming Beel hasn't wiped the refrigerator clean yet, I suggest you stop by the kitchen and grab yourself your breakfast to go. You aren't exempted from your duties as a student. Are we clear?" and with that, he leaves the room.

"A whole one eighty from this morning ain't it?" Mammon scoffs before grabbing his bag, shrugging as he reveals his sparkling, golden, sequins filled sweater. "I've worn worse for some grim, kinda like it actually. Reminds me of my precious goldy. Now let's get going human."

Once you step foot outside the house of lamentation, your mind abandons any memory of the ruckus that took place earlier. You pile your hand through the snow, the cold sensation making your fingers tingle as your face light up with joy.

"Is it the same as the snow in the human world?" Satan inquires, grinning at your child like enthusiasm.

"Does it taste the same?" Beelzebub adds as Belphegor holds him back from shovelling a pile of snow into his mouth.

"Oh no. So many normies- someone hide me!" Leviathan rushes behind you as many students start gathering around the group, their D.D.Ds drawn out to document the brothers' latest fashion choice.

"Ah, you made it! And you all look lovely!" Diavolo makes way through the crowd to greet the siblings, eyes twinkling at the sight of them wearing the sweaters he hand picked just for them. But his smile is wiped out as soon as he starts head counting. "Where is Lucifer, though? Is he already inside?" Diavolo then orders the crowd to dispel and wonders off to look for him, but not before he ensures you he had ordered one more sweater, just for you.

"Well, I better head off to class then." You exchange pitying looks with the brothers, addressing the fact you're about to suffer the same fate, before you separate.

While walking, you pass by a vacant classroom and you swear that you hear someone sighing. 'Is it one of those ghosts the demons keep mentioning?' You think to yourself. You decide to quietly nudge the door open and peek inside, but what you believed is going to be an indtimidating encounter with a spirit was actually making you work really hard to hold in your laughter as to not blow your cover.

Lucifer is sitting on the classroom's floor, dressed in a fleecy, fuzzy looking, light blue sweater that is adorned with the cutest, fluffiest sheep. His expression is leaning between anger and pure despair, while he curses under his breath, yanking at the soft fabric as if it would magically rip apart.

"Sadly, Diavolo mentioned the sweaters are made of hell-wool, a material that is purely impossible to cut. Not even by the strongest demons in the devildome." You enter the room and close the door behind you, offering a bashful smile to a panic ridden Lucifer on the ground. He sighs, admitting defeat as he's unable to hide what you had already seen. "Stupid, stupid sweater." He snarls, almost inaudibly, but loud enough so you can hear the agony in his tone.

You take a seat next to him on the floor and lean your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the fluffy garment and nuzzling your nose onto it. "I like it." You declare. "It's like cuddling with a cloud."

"I'm not sure whether I should be offended, y/n." Lucifer exhales, but gives in to your affection rather quickly, sliding his arm to wrap around you and pull you closer. "But I suppose- if you find it comforting, maybe I won't attempt to thoroughly destroy it the second Diavolo allows us to take these off."

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons

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wishhouse-in-your-soul · 2 years

Note

your blorbos for 31

31. Catching the other before they fall She was always told to count her blessings.

The concrete wall was like ice against her open wounds and the scent of mildew lingered heavily in the air. Every inch of her body ached, and no position seemed to relieve any of that pain. Her companion had retreated within the walls, leaving her alone with her thoughts, with the cold, with her pain…

…but focusing on those things kept her from drifting asleep. Her body berating her for carrying on was proof that she was still alive, and staying conscious prevented him from clawing his way into her mind. Any physical pain was preferable to the feeling of Walter forcing his thoughts into her brain, controlling her like some sort of rag doll. Eileen shivered.

It had only happened once so far—she found herself in a hazy state, raising the chain high above her head. She had backed Henry into a corner, and if the candle he lit hadn’t helped her pull through, she might’ve attacked him.  She couldn’t shake the image of his face, pale with terror. Terror that she had caused.

Eileen demanded that he returned ‘her’ weapons to his room. She couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t slip out of consciousness again, and the last thing she wanted was to lose him. He had offered to bring her handbag back so she’d have something to use as self-defense, and she reluctantly accepted. At least it wasn’t lethal.

  “Sorry, there was, um… a cat… in my fridge…” She looked up. Henry had emerged from the wall, a cracked medallion around his neck and a first aid kit tucked under his arm. He placed her handbag in front of her, his expression the dull neutrality to which she’d grown accustomed. Not that she had minded—anything was preferable to seeing him scared.  

“You have a cat?”  

“Ah… no… just another,” Henry gestured vaguely, “…another way that my apartment tried to kill me.”  

She snorted, to which he didn’t respond. Immediately, she frowned—he didn’t say that to be funny! He probably thinks you’re laughing at his pain. Eileen opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could speak Henry extended his arm towards her.  

“We should probably get moving.” She nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling herself up.

  Standing up so fast made her uncomfortably aware of how much blood she had lost.  

The stairs were a welcome reprieve from being hunted. Though the atmosphere was about as oppressive as every other place they had been, there was no need to rush or worry about their safety. As stale as the air was, she appreciated any breaths she was still taking.  

Descending the stairs was not an easy task. Her shoes were blistering her feet—the one injury she couldn’t fault Walter for—and the way her heels clanged against the metal stairs rang in her ears. She followed Henry closely, resisting the temptation to hold onto his sleeve for stability. As if he needed to be reminded of the half-dead and volatile burden he’d been saddled with. Just stay close behind, stay awake, don’t do anything reckless, and maybe they’d both get out of here alive. Hopefully.

Maybe she was thinking too much. Maybe not enough. Maybe it was her blisters, or the blood loss, or the goddamned spores of mold that clogged every breath she took. She misjudged the step, her legs twisting as she fell forward. She futilely ducked her head behind her battered arm, bracing for the impact.

  There was no impact. Her body relaxed, her nerves unfurling in a confused relief. One arm held her around the waist, another hand holding her shoulder firmly. Eileen blinked, looking over her shoulder to see Henry, who seemed equally surprised.  

Half dead, volatile burden.

  “Th… thanks. This is embarrassing…” She had regained her footing. “I can’t even walk without falling. Sorry, I’m just slowing you down.” Henry furrowed his brow.  

“No, it’s okay. Don’t apologize, I don’t want you to get hurt,” he paled, “I mean… any more than you already are.” Henry’s fingers hovered around her uninjured hand. She grasped them. His fingers were trembling.  

“Can we walk a little slower? At least for the stairs?” His mouth twitched. Was that a smile?

  “Yeah… there’s no need to rush.”  

Counting her blessings. At least he was understanding.

#prompt request #I write sometimes #20x21

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archiveikemen · 2 years

Text

Mashiro Kanade Main Story — Chapter 01

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

read this before interacting with my posts

Koki: Welcome, MC.

Koki: Let me just ask you. Who do you want to work with and what kind of song do you want to make?

MC: I...

(I want to make a song that will move my heart.)

There was only one thing that came into my head.

During my childhood, when the Music Control Act wasn't a thing, I heard a song like that.

It was a carefree song that brought smiles to people's faces.

(But I don't know exactly what kind of song that was.)

(If there was anything as much as even just a slight hint, I think I will get it.)

Feeling frustrated, I opened my mouth to speak.

MC: I haven't decided yet.

MC: While living in this house, I want to find out what kind of song I want to make, how to make it, and who I want to make it with!

Koki: Well, this is indeed a place where many musicians are gathered.

Koki: Take your time to think about it.

MC: Ah.. thank you so much!

A white dog and black cat came walking under me.

(Hm?)

Koki: Oh I forgot to introduce them. The white one is Evan, and the black one is Otto.

Koki: Both of them live here.

Koki: I hope you get along with them.

MC: Sure!

I felt someone's gaze on me and looked up.

(Huh...?)

My heart began thumping loudly.

Kanade: ...

MC: ...!

Our eyes met, and I was captivated by his incredibly beautiful features.

The man who had a classy aura...

(If I'm not wrong, he's Kanade... the 'King'.)

Kanade: How do you intend to find out?

MC: I have no choice but to work hard for it.

Kanade: Hard work?

Kanade laughed.

Kanade: That's just a mentality.

Kanade: I'm asking for the specific steps you plan to take to achieve the desired results.

MC: Erm...

Kanade's long and sharp gaze was directed straight at me.

(It's as if he's seeing right through me... and reading my mind.)

As if I had been trapped by Kanade's gaze, I couldn't move.

Henri: Hey, Kanade.

Henri: You're staring too much.

Henri: MC is frozen stiff.

Henri tugged on Kanade's sleeve and laughed bitterly.

Kanade: Is that so?

Maybe it was subconscious, but as soon as Kanade averted his gaze, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Kanade glanced at me and laughed a little.

Kanade: If it's that hard for you to answer, then you can just say you never actually thought about it.

Kanade's words made me clasp my hands tightly.

MC: ... At the moment, I can't think of what kind of song I want to make or how I want to make it.

MC: But, one day, I will make a song that only I can and I will not lose to anybody!

I was fired up by Kanade's words.

My heart was about to fly out of my mouth.

MC: Therefore, the first thing I will do is to find a way to make that song.

MC: I'm sure I can do it...

Kanade: ...

After hearing my words of determination, Kanade slowly stood up from his seat.

Kanade: I commend you for at least making it this far.

Kanade: The song you made was not bad. Hey, Haruto.

Haruto: Yeah? Oh...

As Kanade was leaving, he stopped in front of me.

Kanade's suggestive narrowed eyes nearly made my body melt into a puddle.

I looked into those eyes framed by long lashes.

(If I look away, I think Kanade will swallow me whole.)

Kanade's soft bangs swayed gently, his shapely lips opened slightly.

His captivating voice spoke words that resonated in me.

Kanade: But that's not going to be enough.

MC: What?

As I raised my eyebrows, Kanade lifted a corner of his mouth slightly...

Kanade: I hope that while you're here, you'll be able to make your dream song.

Kanade: ... Before reality crushes your dreams.

(What did you mean by my dreams will be crushed by reality?)

He left the living room after speaking those cruel words.

As I stood there rooted to the floor, Eisuke tapped me on the shoulder.

Eisuke: Are you okay? The 'King' is always like this, you don't have to mind him.

MC: What?

Kyoichiro: His words were meant to be a form of encouragement.

Their comforting words made me relax.

MC: Yeah, I hope so.

Henri: It's definitely so!

Henri: If Kanade really wasn't interested in MC's music, would he have wasted his breath to comment on it?

(Everyone seems to understand the situation. But I wonder what kind of man Kanade really is?)

(It's a mystery.)

With that in mind, I said my thanks.

MC: Thank you for comforting me, Henri and everyone else.

Henri said in a slightly dissatisfied tone.

Henri: Ehh you sound so formal. There's no need to use honorifics with me.*

*This is because up until now, MC has been calling Henri 'Henri-san'. he is asking her to use 'Henri-kun' instead.

MC: I'll drop the honorifics then.

Henri: Yupp feels good!

Seeing Henri so happy put a smile on my face...

Kyoichiro: Let's get along well, MC.

MC: Yes! While I'm living here, I'll find the song I want to make!

Strangely, as I left the living room, I felt more motivated to make that song.

(Kanade was the one who gave me that little push.)

(I guess I'm the type that works best when provoked like that.)

My new life in Sakuragi began.

—— Henri gave me a tour around the Sakuragi.

MC: This place is so huge, I might get lost.

Henri: You'll get used to it soon.

Henri: Is there anything else you want to see?

Henri, who already brought me around the entire Sakuragi, asked if there was anything I wanted to see more.

The first thing that came to my mind was...

(The place where Haruto sang my song...!)

MC: I want to go to the soundproof music room.

When I said it out loud, Henri grinned.

Henri: Sure. Well then ——

We headed to the soundproof music studio.

From the window in the door, I saw Kanade and Haruto playing music together.

MC: Ah...

I couldn't help but stare at the joyful expression on Kanade's face as he played the guitar, it was my first time seeing it.

(So even he can have that kind of facial expression huh.)

Henri caught me staring, or at least he claimed I was.

Henri: Kanade isn't the type of guy to be interested in other people.

Henri: But for some reason I don't know of, he's pretty fond of Haru.

(He doesn't care about other people? But...)

What happened earlier today flashed into my mind.

== Flashback Start ==

Kanade: But that's not going to be enough.

Kanade: I hope that while you're here, you'll be able to make your dream song.

Kanade: ... Before reality crushes your dreams.

== Flashback End ==

(Kyoichiro said that those were supposed to be words of encouragement. Although, I don't know how true that is.)

(Why did he have to tell me off the first time we met?)

All those questions floated around my mind as I kept looking at Kanade.

—— The next morning.

(Alrighty. From today on, I'll work hard to find that song I want to make!)

Feeling energetic, I went to have breakfast in the living room.

MC: Wow...

When I stepped into the living room, I was greeted by the aroma of fresh bread.

MC: Wow... freshly baked buns shaped like bunnies!

When I burst out in awe, Koki looked proud.

Koki: As a welcome gift, a special breakfast on your first day living in the Sakuragi. Bunny shaped bread baked by yours truly.

MC: Koki, you made this!?

MC: But... Why bunny?

Koki: That's a secret.

Koki evaded my question with a smile.

Henri and Eisuke came into the living room wearing suits...

MC: Oh, are you guys going anywhere wearing suits?

Henri: Yup, to the company.

Henri answered in a friendly tone as he sat down.

MC: The company... Wait, what? Henri, are you an office worker!?

Henri: Why are you so surprised?

Henri smiled at me with his eyes wide open.

(Of course he has a job.)

Henri: Even the members of 'F' have jobs outside of being part of a band.

Henri: Am I right? Eisuke.

Eisuke: I work as a lawyer.

Eisuke wore a refreshing prince-like smile.

Henri: He already left for work, but Kyoichiro is an Ophthalmologist.

(Eisuke is a lawyer and Kyoichiro is a doctor... they're all so amazing.)

Just as I was feeling impressed, Ritsu came in.

Eisuke: Ritsu, you're early today.

Ritsu: I have rehearsal to attend.

(Ritsu is that famous pianist Ritsu.)

I glanced at Ritsu who sat down and sipped the coffee brewed by Koki.

Koki: Also, Haruto is an instrumental artist.

Koki: As for Gaku... he's a freelance programmer.

Koki brewed me a cup of coffee as he told me about the other guys.

MC: Oh... what about Kanade?

I was just casually listening when I felt someone standing behind me with his hands on the back of my chair...

Kanade: Did you call for me?

#ikemen live #ikelive main story #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #kanade main story

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lilacmoon83 · 2 years

Text

Clarity

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 52: An Apple As Red As Blood

Narcissa growled, as she tried to shut out the banging and screaming on her office door from the citizens outside. This morning, she had awoken to the satisfaction of her win and the fun of evicting Regina from her mansion. But now, not even twenty-four hours later, she was facing a calamity in the town. And her new decorator for her office was late. She looked at the bowl of apples on the desk and angrily tossed them against the door.

"I know you've done something to muck things up, Regina…and I'm going to make sure the entire town knows it," she growled, as she gazed out the window. She spied the dragon atop the Clocktower and the carnage of forest that was now protruding in parts of the town. The people were irate and frightened and expected her to fix this.

"If only there was a way to blame this on Snow…then I could send this mob after her," she muttered to herself, as she debated her next move.

"Even the cursed townspeople aren't dumb enough to believe Mary Margaret Blanchard could do something like this," she realized.

"Damn…this does not factor into my plans," she said, as she saw a peculiar rainbow light wash over the town. The banging on her door stopped at that, but a new feeling of dread filled her. She growled and grabbed her purse, before heading out to figure out what was going on in her town.

~*~

Malachi dried some glassware, as Lucian returned to the bar with a smirk on his face.

"You look like a cat that ate the canary," he mentioned.

"It turns out that there was enough magic left in this old feather, after all," Lucian mentioned, as he held up the last feather from an enchanted headdress he wore in his days as Chief of his tribe.

"What are you talking about?" Malachi questioned.

"Only that I bribed the hatter and with the last of my magic, he used his hat to retrieve a certain item. The curse is about to be broken, my friend," he revealed. Malachi paused for a moment and set the glass in his hand down.

"You're sure?" he asked. Lucian nodded.

"Trust me…the Savior is about to break the curse and then the next phase of my plan will begin," he replied.

"Then I guess things are about to get interesting," Malachi said, as a rainbow wave swept over them and Lucian smirked.

"Yes…yes they are," he agreed.

~*~

Emma trekked behind her parents, as Snow tracked Henry and hurried up the ridge with her hand in David's. They came to the clearing at the top and she cried out, as they spotted their grandson laying on the ground, unconscious. The wolf whined sadly, as it sat beside him.

"Emma!" they called, as she followed them and David rolled him onto his back. He checked for a pulse and almost choked.

"He's…he's not breathing," he uttered and Emma nearly lost it right there.

"What?!" she cried, as they looked him over.

"He has no injuries…what could have done this!?" Neal cried and Snow saw the answer laying just a few feet away. She picked up the apple and saw the second bite in it.

"It can't be…" she uttered.

"Snow?" David asked, as she turned and showed them the apple.

"An apple? Did he choke?" Neal asked, as he pried his son's mouth open, but didn't see any obstruction.

"No…it's the same apple!" she cried. David's brow furrowed in confusion.

"But how? That apple is back in our land," he replied.

"What apple!?" Emma cried.

"The poison apple…he's under a sleeping curse," Snow revealed.

"How is that possible? How did that get here?" Neal replied.

"Someone…someone had to bring it here," Snow realized.

"Are you saying that person forced our son to eat it?" Neal asked, but she shook her head.

"No…the curse must be taken willingly. When Regina presented the apple to me, I willingly took a bite to save Charming's life," Snow explained.

"Why would Henry willingly take a bite of this apple? He would have known what it was!?" Emma cried, as she was close to hyperventilating and David's eyes widened.

"Because he knew it would break the curse!" he realized.

"What?" Emma asked.

"Emma…it's true love's kiss. That's how you must break the curse," David replied.

"But…I can't," Emma said.

"Yes you can, Emma…you love Henry and you'll break the curse on him, just like your father broke the curse on me," Snow replied. A tear slipped down Emma's cheek, as her parents joined hands.

"I'm not sure how we didn't see it before, but this is how. It's always true love," David said, as they shared a smile.

"What if it doesn't work?" Emma sniffed.

"It will…we believe in you, Emma. We always have," Snow said.

"She's right…I believe in you too. I always have," Neal added.

"You're the product of our true love…you're magic and anything is possible with true love's magic," David added, as they watched their daughter brush her son's hair from his forehead.

"I love you Henry," she said, as she kissed his forehead and a wave of pure, rainbow magic swept over them and continued through the entire town. Henry's eyes snapped open and he took a starved breath. Emma and Neal beamed with smiles, as they gazed down at him. Snow and David let out a breath of relief and a hug, as they held each other close.

"I love you too," Henry said, as he sat up and they hugged him, while sharing a meaningful gaze.

"Don't ever scare us like that again, kid," she gently admonished.

"Sorry…but I knew this would work," Henry replied.

"Where did you get this apple, sweetheart?" Snow asked.

"From Mr. Blackwater," Henry answered with a wince.

"What?" David questioned.

"You got this from Mr. Blackwater?" Neal asked. He nodded.

"Henry…you can't trust him," Emma scolded.

"I know…but we both wanted the curse broken and it was obviously the apple that grams bit into. I knew what was going to happen and I knew you'd wake me," he said confidently, which still stunned Emma that he believed in her so completely.

"Did Mr. Blackwater say how he got this apple?" David asked, as he knelt in front of him.

"He said he made a deal with the Mad Hatter and he used one of his hats to retrieve it from the Enchanted Forest," Henry explained.

"Jefferson again…I almost forgot about him," David said.

"Hey…did you find my Mom at the car?" Henry asked and they all exchanged a glance.

"No…I'm afraid she wasn't in the car when we found it. There is a second pair of tire tracks at the scene and we'll find her, but we were more concerned with finding you first," Emma said.

"Well…if the curse is broken, then everyone remembers now, right?" Henry asked. They smiled.

"Yes they do…so we should probably head back. Lucian may have wanted the curse broken, but I can't see how this plays well into Narcissa's plan," David said.

"She was elected Mayor, baby…I'm not sure we can change that part," Snow replied.

"Actually, an argument could be made that we essentially should have a redo election. Because most of the town wasn't in their right mind and didn't have the real information," Neal said.

"He's right…and now they're going to want someone else to lead them," David replied, as he looked at his wife and she looked surprised.

"Me?" she asked.

"Of course you…you are their true Queen," he replied, but she shook her head.

"I am no Queen…and I wouldn't have a clue how to be Mayor," she argued. He sighed.

"Snow…you're an amazing leader and I don't know what I have to do to convince you of that. Before the curse…we were going to rule with you as Queen," he reminded her.

"But that was before I let my entire Kingdom down and we were cursed," she argued.

"You didn't let anyone down," he argued back.

"She cursed us, because of me. I let them all down…I let everyone down," Snow said, as her eyes rested on their daughter.

"Regina did this…not you and none of us want to live under Narcissa's rule. If you don't want to be Mayor…then you shouldn't be, though I think you'd be great at it," Emma said, surprising her.

"But we need to oust Narcissa, regardless," she said.

"She's right…now that the curse is broken, we need to drive her and her cohorts from town for good," David replied, as he took her hand and they headed back to town. They were all anxious to see what an awakened Storybrooke looked like.

~*~

Regina's screams faded, as Greg flipped the machine off again.

"What did you do to my father!?" he seethed.

"I told you…I did nothing. He's alive," Regina claimed.

"You're a liar! I know you killed him!" he screamed.

"I wanted to…I should have, but I locked him away instead!" she retorted.

"Where?" he demanded to know, but Regina was silent.

"Where is he!? Do you have any idea what it was like when I left here after what I had seen?" Greg shouted, as he remembered his father's final words to him.

"Get as far away as you can. You call your Uncle,"

"Everyone thought I was crazy! Except my Uncle! I begged him to investigate and he believed me. But we could never find this accursed town!" he explained.

"That's a fascinating story…but if you let me go, I'll take you to him," she said.

"No…you tell me where he is and then if you're telling the truth, maybe we can talk about letting you live as long as it's behind bars," he replied.

"Fine…he's in the psych ward at the hospital. He's been there…all this time," she claimed smugly.

"You bitch…you kept him locked away!?" he cried.

"I wanted to kill him, but thought better of it. If I had known you'd return, I would have killed him just to see the look on your face," Regina growled, as he wanted so badly to turn the machine back on.

"I'm going to find him and if you're lying…then I'll turn this machine back on full blast when I get back and fry you until your heart explodes!" he shouted.

"You need me to get into the psych ward," Regina reminded him, but he pulled a gun from his belt.

"No…I don't," he growled, as he stalked out and left her there, strapped to the table.

~*~

As they arrived back on Main Street, Snow spotted Merryweather and she was happily reuniting with her sisters.

"Oh Snow…honey, it's wonderful. It's finally broken," she said, as they shared a hug.

"I'm so glad…" she gushed.

"Snow!" Red called, as she rushed toward her and they hugged tightly.

"How long have you two been awake?" she asked, as she hugged David too.

"A while…but you're one of the only ones that didn't judge us, despite not having your memories," he said. She smiled.

"When two people belong together, they'll always find a way. I'm just sorry I couldn't see through the curse," Granny said, as she approached them behind her granddaughter. But Snow shook her head and hugged her.

"It's forgotten…you weren't yourself," Snow said.

"Unless she knew about the wardrobe too," Emma replied, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"What about the wardrobe?" Granny asked.

"Oh…apparently, it took two, but we didn't know that," Snow replied.

"What do you mean it took two?" Red questioned.

"Geppetto, Jiminy and Blue weren't completely honest with us and they put Pinocchio through it before we sent Emma," Snow said sadly.

"Well…they have some explaining to do then," Red replied.

"Mmmhmm…trust me, Blue has enough skeletons in her closet to oust her from power. Flora should be the head fairy," Merryweather said.

"We can settle that later. It's Narcissa that we should deal with firstly," Flora reasoned.

"She's right…and then there is still Maleficent. She flew off and we have no way of knowing where she went and with her goes the true love potion I made," Gold interjected.

"And we still need to find Regina," Snow added.

"What happened to Regina?" Belle asked.

"We don't know, but she wasn't in the car when we found it and there was a second set of tire tracks at the scene. Someone might have taken her…it's not like there isn't a town full of people with an ax to grind against her," David answered.

"Forget the Queen…we have bigger problems!" Grumpy called, as he and all seven dwarves approached.

"What's going on?" Emma asked.

"That outsider…the one running Narcissa's campaign has gone bonkers, that's what!" Grumpy replied.

"What do you mean?" David asked.

"He's at the hospital waving a gun around and demanding to be let down into the psych ward. He's raving like a madman that the Queen has his father locked up down there," Doc replied. He exchanged glances with his wife.

"Locking people up in the psych ward is her specialty," Gold reminded them.

"Let's go," Emma said, as she and David started for the hospital with the others following them…

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #Emma Swan #Neal Cassidy #Mr. Gold #Belle French #Henry Mills #Regina Mills #AU #romance #adventure #family #Clarity #A 7x15 am AU

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arcanadreams · 3 years

Text

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

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Can u make mc is the actual owner of Cerberus when he was a pup but villagers killed him because they thought that he was a monster and what how would the brothers and the undateable react to that when mc started to cry when she saw Cerberus headcanons

Oh Beans! I totally spaced when reading this and only have the brothers.

I'll post what I have here right now, but this will also be on AO3, so if you keep checking/subscribe there, you'll get a notification when I've added the undateables! It might not be for a while though, since I'm about to start school again ^-^;;

Who's a Good Boy?

The Guard Dog of the House of Hades. A vicious, three-headed hellhound that only the fallen Morningstar himself could command. Unfathomably massive. Devourer of demons, angels, and humans alike. Notoriously difficult to groom.

That is Cerberus, Lucifer’s extremely volatile pet named after a figure from Greek mythology for reasons no one truly understands. The creature has struck fear into the hearts of its housemates, and the Devildom at large, for what feels like ages.

So when MC cries upon seeing the wolf-dog for the first time, none of the brothers are especially surprised. How could a human cross such a monster’s path and live, after all?

Except those who weep in fear usually don’t then barrel full-tilt into one of the monster’s furry legs, babbling incoherently about how they thought they’d never see him again.

One of Cerberus’ heads leans down to the human, and the brothers panic, fearing the worst. It opens its mouth, revealing razor sharp fangs—

And licks MC’s entire body in a saliva-filled canine kiss. Now covered in tears and drool, MC laughs as they shake themself off, teasing the hellhound by saying that they already showered today, thank you very much.

“So, did you miss me as much as I missed you?” they ask, giving Cerberus’ central head some under the chin scritches (the only part of its head they can currently reach).

Cerberus boofs loudly, enormous tail waving back and forth at an increasingly hazardous pace.

Lucifer

What.

Lucifer is dealing with a Lot right now. He almost lost the exchange student to his own dog, except apparently Cerberus used to belong to MC?! How?!

He orders Cerberus to back away from the human, part of him still convinced that this is somehow a combination of MC being mistaken and Cerberus playing with its food, but the hellhound actually growls at him and picks MC up by the back of their shirt, tossing them onto its back.

MC, in response, finds new places to scritch.

He stares at the scene for a few minutes, unable to process what his life has become.

Later, once Cerberus finally agrees to let MC leave, they explain to him that Cerberus used to be a puppy in the human world.

Obviously, he was immediately noted as strange due to his three heads, and the people of MC’s village believed him to be an omen of death. MC themself didn’t care, and just saw “lil’ Cerb” as a puppy like any other, albeit an exceptionally drooly one.

He used to be more or less normal dog-sized, but it quickly became obvious that Cerberus was growing fast, and would be much larger than even a wolf by the time he was done. He also became harder and harder to hide.

Unfortunately, one night they awoke to poor Cerberus being chased out into the night by a mob, never to return.

They assumed the worst, mourned, and got on with their life as best as they could. But seeing Cerberus— they knew it was the same dog as soon as they saw him — brought all those emotions right back to the surface.

It’s not hard to adapt to these strange circumstances. Lucifer is actually quite relieved to have someone who is both willing and able to safely help him in caring for Cerberus, and both MC and the hellhound delight in each other’s company.

Lucifer also won’t deny the pride he feels upon seeing MC, the one he loves, getting along so well with his son dog.

Mammon

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The P A N I C of seeing MC within bite-chomp-murder-kill distance of Cerberus nearly killed Mammon.

What the hell is he supposed to do against that furball?! MC’s dead meat, a chew toy, he can’t save them again—

WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY D O I N G ? !

Torn between passing out from fear and yelling about how brave and cool HIS human is!

So he kinda just… stands there, slack-jawed, as MC finds a spot on the creature that makes it thump its leg so hard the ground shakes.

Already he’s cooking up ways to use MC’s Cerberus-taming powers to get into all kinds of Shenanigans

Except he quickly learns that while Cerb is much more gentle with MC, it won’t let them distract it from its duties.

Has this resulted in MC semi-unwillingly riding Cerberus as it chases a terrified Mammon throughout the Devildom? Possibly~

Though when MC explains to Mammon how Cerberus used to be their dog, and what had happened to him… He can’t help but feel a touch more sympathetic to the hellhound.

Only a little bit though. It still does try and tear him apart whenever he gets too close, after all.

Leviathan

Levi’s fear metamorphoses into awe much faster than the others’. MC LOOKS SO COOL!! Riding the mighty Cerberus like a steed!

He desperately wishes he had the art skills to capture this iconic moment forever. But alas, a camera will have to do.

It’s a pretty good picture, the comparatively small human sitting on Cerberus’ back like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Levi even has a shot of them accidentally scritching a spot that makes Cerberus breathe fire (like a furry dragon!)

100% gets super emotional when MC tells him how they originally had— and lost— Cerberus as a puppy. It reminds him of his precious Henry 1.0 in some ways…

Begs MC to let him post the photos he took, along with their story as the caption. It’s just too good! It’s exactly like that arc in My Adventurer Boyfriend Keeps Adopting the Monsters He Beats in Combat and Now We’re Running Out of Space to Keep Them!

Like Mammon, Levi also quickly learns that just because he unlocked Cerberus’ tragic backstory, doesn’t mean that the hellhound will treat him any differently.

But sometimes, after a long “walk” with MC, the massive creature will be mostly asleep. And then, his hand shaking, MC will guide Levi to pet Cerberus’ flank. Its tail swishes softly, Levi’s own swaying in response.

Satan

He shakes his head and laughs, torn between relief, awe, shock, and lingering horror for MC’s safety. Of course they can tame even the ferocious Cerberus…

Guess all sorts of angry monsters like MC, huh?

He definitely wants to hear the story of MC owning Cerberus in the past, but first he’s going to drink in the absolutely dumbfounded expression on Lucifer’s face.

Toooootally doesn’t cry upon hearing MC’s story with Cerberus. No way, he’s still a cat person, he swears!

...No one is allowed to comment on Satan’s various burn injuries that occur over the next few weeks.

Not if they don’t want to be left with worse.

Asmodeus

OH SHIT!! Also, ewwwww

Once the fear for MC’s safety subsides, Asmo can appreciate the cuteness and hilarity that is MC with Cerberus. Truly no one is immune to their charms it seems, and their affections know no bounds.

...Is it that same quality that allows MC to continue to care for him and his brothers despite their past actions?

Asmo claims that the smoke from Cerberus’ fire breath is getting into his eyes, prompting him to leave. He has a good long stare-at-a-wall crisis for a bit.

Learning MC and Cerberus’ story only makes him mushier. Their tragedy got a happy ending after all!

As much as he loves MC’s charms, he still insists that they de-drool themself before touching him or any of his things. It stinks like brimstone!

Now if they need any help getting clean… That he can oblige~

Beelzebub

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH part 2

As one of the physically stronger brothers, when Lucifer’s not available it’s Beel’s job to groom Cerberus. He knows how dangerous that mutt is.

But apparently not for MC “Knows No Fear” over there!

As Cerberus continues to remain docile in MC’s presence, Beel starts to appreciate the cuteness of a human and their giant hellhound.

Unabashedly mushy upon hearing MC’s story about Cerberus. The themes of losing a loved one, only to find them much later in a new form… it kinda hits a little close to home for him.

(It’s not a perfect analogy: Beel knows MC isn’t Lilith, but having them as part of her legacy is undeniably cathartic. It’s why he doesn’t share these exact feelings with them, since he knows they’re uncomfortable with being compared to her excessively. Still, he can’t help but note the comparison.)

Naturally, he’s also very happy to have a very useful partner for grooming Cerberus. That living nightmare turns into an overgrown puppy whenever MC’s around. It’s much easier, and much safer, to work with this way.

Plus, it means he gets some quality time with MC! And there’s nothing quite like the fond smiles they share with him during these moments.

Belphegor

He has got to be dreaming. No way is this actually happening— nope, Mammon just stepped on his foot, and that hurt, he’s awake.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Does MC not fear death? Is that it? Did that part of their brain just completely shut down when he killed them?!

Unlike the others, he can’t really shut down his panic. Sure, right now Cerberus is acting all cuddly, but that could change on a dime. That dog only listens to Lucifer, and right now all Lucifer is doing is staring gormlessly at it!!!

He nearly loses his hand trying to pull MC away from the creature (which it naturally did Not appreciate).

“Belphie, wait! It’s okay,” MC reassures him even as smoke blows out of Cerberus’ nostrils.

They explain their history with the hellhound, how they rescued it as a puppy and then lost it to the angry and frightened people of their village.

Belphegor can’t help but recall their expression when he told them about his imprisonment, the outrage there mingling with a much older emotion. Is that why they were so quick to help him?

He’s still wary of Cerberus. He refuses to be fooled by any facades the creature may be putting up.

But one day, MC invites him to one of their “playdates”. Cerberus watches him like a hawk, growling when he first approaches, but MC just shushes and soothes the monster until it allows him closer.

And maybe, after a few tense minutes, the pair begin to relax around each other.

And maybe, Lucifer has a picture of MC and Belphegor curled up in Cerberus’ fur as the three take a mid-afternoon nap.

And maybe, Belphegor lets him keep it.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me cerberus #obey me scenarios #mine #my writing #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #mc

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Note

Imagine a yandere ghost who is cursed is trapped in the doll, so one day a family came to live in his house, but what the ghost did not expect is to fall in love with the couple's eldest daughter. Maybe this yandere ghost (doll) use the younger brother to get closer to his beloved...

I didn't really include the doll, but the overall idea is here ;)

Tw: nsfw, non - con, underage sex? (The reader is meant to be around 18, her brother is 16 - 17, but the ghost is 100+ so idk), (technically) incest, ghosts, possession, possessive/obsessive behavior, slight parental neglect ig

You knew it was a mistake moving into the old house up the hill. You tried arguing with your parents so many times about the mansion being hidden in the woods, so far away from any civilization, bringing up the fact it hadn't been bought for the last 8 years despite the insanely low price or the news about the previous owners dying in their sleep just like that, from "natural causes" even though they were an young energetic couple. But of course your worries had been discarded so easily since your younger siblings were ecstatic, constantly talking about finally living in a castle, which was obviously pushing it too far, but kids will be kids.

Your family was big, consisting of your mother, father, two younger sisters and a brother currently in his late teens. Your siblings managed to take all the nice bright rooms on the second floor so you were forced to sleep in the attic. At first it didn't seem so bad, yes, the place was dark and dusty, the space was limited, but it was a quiet spot and there were many interesting things left there to explore and discover.

The first week you discovered a huge box full of old books, medals, notebooks and different souvenirs from all over the world. The second week you found a few paintings covered by a thin disheveled cloak, most of them depicting a pretty young boy with golden locks and sad green eyes, dresses in an expensive silky clothing resembling what was nowadays considered an elegant suit. You didn't pay it much mind yet the miserable longing gaze of the kid haunted your dreams in the following days.

During the third week you noticed that things were going missing one by one. First it was your favorite lipstick, then your new dress, and suddenly your favorite items were gone just like that. On top of all, almost as if fate was tickling your paranoia, you could hear certain sounds at night that were too distorted be natural and too human to belong to an animal. There were sobs, loud and tormented, sometimes you could make up a few words in a language no one spoke anymore. You slept less and less each night, you could swear you felt someone's lingering touch on your shoulders, them gently stroking your hair and even pressing their cold unmoving lips on yours. This was usually the point when you opened your eyes and screamed in fear only to realize you were alone in the room. There was nobody there.

Still you decided to speak with your parents about the creepy events taking place in the attic. Much to your dismay they brushed your concerns off once again, laughing softly and calling you a scaredy - cat, going as far as to joke around about your "oh so creative" imagination getting the best of you just like it did in your childhood. But this time you insisted on holding your ground, almost begging them to take action and help you. At the end your mother decided to let you sleep in your brother's room for a while until you calm down, and as embarrassing it was to share a room with a hormonal teen, it was better than constantly being on the edge and losing sleep. Or so you thought.

The first night you slept in Steve's room nothing out of the ordinary happened and for the first time in weeks you actually managed to rest. The second night was blissfully peaceful as well and you quickly fell into a deep dreamless slumber.

The third night started well, just like the previous two. Your brother was tired from studying all day and went to bed early, giving you the freedom to relax a little bit before following his example. You could read a book or try to revise for your exam tomorrow, maybe even call your bestfriend and finally let her know all about your new classmates and just how boring life in the village was. But in that moment all these suggestion sounded annoying, nothing was interesting enough to hold your interest for more than a minute. Thinking about what to do next, you suddenly became aware that your body was tense and tired, but your mind was restless. After all you hadn't had time for self - care between the paranoia episodes and the fear, maybe it was finally time to do something nice and therapeutic for yourself.

You snatched a quick look at Steve and he was sleeping soundly, snoring from time to time, his usually angry face now calm and childlike. Making sure there was no one in the room awake, you finally slipped a hand down your pajama bottom until you felt the soft fabric of your panties. You closed your eyes and run a finger up and down your clothed sex, following the line of your slit. Your pussy throbbed at the sudden contact, the lack of pleasure in the last few weeks making it sensitive to the touch. You pushed your underwear lower so it hanged around your legs, and shoved one finger into your warm hole, enjoy the way your walls clenched around the digit. You flicked your clit gently, feeling it swell from the arousal, rubbing slow circles and pressing on your sweet spot every once in a while.

Your free hand went to your breasts, bare under the comfy oversized shirt, and awoke the cherry nipples with subtle pinches causing them to harden. You couldn't help but moan quietly as you decreased the pace of which you teased your hole and added a second finger in your pussy, fucking yourself on it. You were so focused on chasing your pleasure you didn't even notice the hand on your thigh pulling your own away from your excited throbbing core and replacing it with a big hard cock. Only once its head reached your tight entrance and pressed on it did your mind register the atrocious size difference. Your words stilled in your throat, the sudden panic rising in your chest, making your vision blurry and your cheeks rosy pink. You finally opened your eyes, your heart racing at the image of your younger brother towering above you with his member so close to entering your heat.

"Steve, what are you doing?" You whispered as you tried to squirm away from the boy, but he was quicker in pinning your wrists above your head in a deadlock. When did the male become so strong? Just yesterday he would ask you to open up his water bottle and help him with his math homework and now he was doing this...

"My name is Henry, my love." The voice was different from your brother's, lower and huskier, gentler in a way. You narrowed your eyes and observed the teenager's face, gasping as you noticed that his eyes had changed from black to green, yet all his other features had stayed stayed the same. You wanted to ask so many questions - who is Henry, why were your sibling's eyes and voice different from before - but you were quickly shut by one stern gaze. "I used to live here 80 years ago." The stranger started off with an unexpectedly soft tone as his grip on your wrists loosened. "I'm a ghost. I possessed your brother." He confessed calmly while you watched his pink lips part slightly with each breath as if you were in a trance before you found the strength to break your silence.

"Why are doing this to me? Why did you take my brother's body?" You questioned him manically, feeling like a confused little lamb sent to the slaughter, trembling and stuttering in front of a knife. Henry simply chuckled at your adorable dumbfounded expression and lowered his torso until his face was mere inches away from yours and you could feel his ice - cold breath on your warm red cheek. "Because I love you, darling." The ghost replied with a confident smirk that looked so weird and unnatural on the younger boy's face you almost gagged. Before you had the chance to say anything, he continued. "I've been wanting you for a while now, little girl. And with this body I can finally have you all to myself." You opened your mouth in a protest but your screams were easily muffled by a harsh kiss and a wet tongue down your throat. Next thing you knew the man had pushed your brother's manhood into your wet sloppy cunt in one sharp thurst and in your despair you had yelled for help once again, the ghost taking your whimpers greedily and shushing them away. Struggling was pointless.

In the next hour you were reduced to a sweaty whimpering mess of pain and arousal, fear and pleasure. The ghost was fucking you in a fast brutal pace while his free hand was playing with your clit, bringing you so damn close but never enough to send you over the edge. You were crying and your whole body was aching, your tits red from the rough manhandlind, your lips bruised and swollen from the rough kisses and bites. There were purple hickeys adorning your neck, belly and thighs and you went quiet in embarrassment every time you wondered how you would be able to hide them the next day.

"Please, whoever you are, let me come, I'm begging you." You pleaded desperately as you arched your back to meet the next couple of deep thrusts. Your cheeks were wet with tears and you could even taste the bitter salty flavor in your mouth mixed with your own drool and saliva. Upon hearing your meek pleas the man mercifully started hitting your cervix with each shove until his moves became sharp and quick, targeting your g-spot. You were so close you could feel your abdomen clench and tighten from the tingling sensitations. "Please..." You uttered weakly again, making doe eyes at your brother.

"Say you love me. Tie your soul to mine forever and I'll give you exactly what you want, beloved." Henry basically growled in your ear as he groped your breasts, squizing lightly the soft flesh. Your mind was so hazy and clouded you weren't sure how to respond so you just repeated the words easiest to grasp. "Love... you... forever, ngggh..." You muttered under your breath before moaning wantonly when the forceful thrusts finally sent you over the edge and your pussy clamped down in a big, satisfying orgasm. Your bliss was short - lived because soon the ghost was pounding into you again and again, keeping you too tired to move, struggle or even speak properly besides whimpering every once in a while. The rest of the night was a blur but eventually you fell asleep from the exhausting and the pleasure.

You woke up sore, your eyes red and puffy, your muscles tense and unnatentive. You rushed to look at your brother, but the teenager was sleeping just as peacefully as he did eight hours ago. One side of you was more than glad to know everything that had happened was simply a bad, terrible dream, while the other one still felt extremely uncomfortable and uneasy. You couldn't bear staying in the room any longer so you got dressed and went into the hall. Everyone else was still asleep and you felt as restless as if you hadn't caught a blink at all. You finally gave in to your paranoia and climbed the stars leading to the third floor.

You knelt on the ground where you had found the beautiful paintings. Those green eyes from your dream seemed way too familiar for it to be a coincidence. When you finally got a hold of your favorite piece, the one with the sad young boy, you had to cover your mouth to suppress the shock. There wasn't an aristocrat with golden locks on the picture anymore.

Now the one trapped in the painting was none other than you own brother, Steve. Instead of misery and pain in mysterious blue eyes, there was only terror in his tormented black ones. You screamed for the last time before you dropped the picture on the ground and ran away from the attic, the tears streaming down your face, but unfortunately, there was no escape from the restless dead souls.

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere oc x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oneshot #yancore #yandere concept #male yandere x you #tw incest #tw non con

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bitches-who-write · 3 years

Note

you guys said in other posts that Henry and Patrick likes to scare. can you write a story on a reader whose naturally jumpy and scares way to easily. maybe a story about what they do to her? if you can make it reaally scary and teasy I like that. your guys writing is out of this world. thanx

Your wish is our command!

Scaredy Cat

Description: Reader is easily scareable/jumpy. Henry and Patrick take full advantage of this. Featuring Belch & Vic (Spinoff of our haunted house fic)

Word Count: 2,979

Warning: Suspense, Terror, Foul language,

We hope you enjoy this story as much as we enjoyed writing it. It’s our longest post yet so we’re feeling proud!! It definitely brings on Halloween Vibes for those of you who are as obsessed about Halloween as we are!

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Everyone knows Eddie Kaspbrak is a nervous kid but Y/N, Eddie’s sister is even more of a scaredy-cat. Henry and Patrick could smell your fear a mile away. It’s the day before Halloween and the town of Derry is celebrating their annual haunted house attraction. Typically the last walk-through is at midnight, but Henry and Patrick have an alternative plan for their easily scareable victim.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and all anyone at school can talk about is how terrifying the haunted house attraction is going to be. I sit at an empty cafeteria table alone working on my history homework when suddenly I feel a hand grab my shoulder. I practically jump out of my skin, already feeling on edge from all the Halloween talk. I abruptly turn around to face whoever is behind me. To my surprise, it is Patrick Hockstetter and Henry Bowers. I shiver feeling the mixture of Patrick’s cool metal rings and callused hands slide down my arm, gently caressing my sides. I try to lean forward to escape his unwanted embrace, both of them still snickering from my startled reaction. “Holy shit dude, you weren’t kidding she is worse than her wimpy brother.” Henry chortled. I look up at them with a confused expression which only makes Patrick look even more satisfied. “That's right Y/N, I’ve been watching you...studying you....taking a few notes.” Patrick takes a dramatic pause, grinning before continuing; “ I’ve learned a lot of interesting things about you. Like what your fears and phobias are, and what scares you the most- which is a lot coming from you.” Henry chimes in “We noticed the way you glance over your shoulder when you’re all alone, and how you quickly turn on a light when you get home so you’re not in the dark for long.” My eyes widen in shock, realizing they’ve been stalking me without me even knowing it. I finally mustered up the courage to speak but unfortunately for me, my voice dripping from uncertainty and apprehension; “What do you guys want?” With a playful smirk, Henry grabs a chair and turns it so the back of the chair is facing me, resting his arms over it as he sits down. Patrick takes a seat directly next to me but slings his arm around my side, trapping me against him and the table. Henry, never breaking eye contact, finally speaks up first. He licks his lips before leaning in close, his voice full of malice, “We just want to spend time with you. Be ready by midnight we’re picking you up.” They both begin to stand up and walk away but Patrick slowly turns back towards me, “Oh and Y/N... that’s an order.” With that, they both exit the cafeteria leaving me trembling in fear.

I anxiously get ready knowing they will be here in another 10 minutes. I told my mother I was spending the night at a friend's house. Eddie had already gone to his sleepover at Richie’s house so I couldn’t even warn him about my whereabouts for the night. As I finish getting ready, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that I’m being watched. I chalk the feeling off thinking I’m just being paranoid at this point. I walk into my closet to grab a jacket. When I reach for the pull string to turn on the light, of course, the lightbulb is dead- just my luck. I begin to slide each jacket down the rack trying to find the one I want when suddenly something-or someone grabs my wrist causing me to scream in terror. I pulled my wrist back with such force that I stumbled backwards falling on my ass. I try to scoot back to get away from whoever is now slowly approaching me. The tall dark figure slowly emerges from the dark closet, stepping into the light of my bedroom. My eyes widened in both panic and shock seeing Patrick standing there with an eerie smirk plastered on his face. In a mocking tone he says “You ready princess? It's time to go.” Still sitting on the floor with my back up against my bed, I then feel someone squeeze my sides from under the bed. I let out another blood-curdling scream as I jolt forward frantically crawling towards Patrick now, not knowing where to go anymore. I distinctly hear Henry’s laugh from under the bed sounding satisfied that his little prank was successful. “Fuck, it’s a good thing your mom is such a heavy sleeper.” He says in an arrogant tone. Patrick flashes him a knowing smirk adding to Henry’s observation. “Yeaaah. I’m sure those pills probably helped, too.” This made both guys laugh hysterically. “What?! What did you do to my mother?!” I ask in utter disbelief and confusion. “Ohh calm the fuck down, she’ll be fine she’s just having a good...rest.” Patrick says now guiding me by my shoulder towards the door to leave the house now.

We walk out to a blue car sitting outside the front of my house; Belch in the driver seat, chuckling. After about a 15 minute drive, we finally arrived at our destination. I had no clue where these two psychos were even taking me up until now. I look up and see a nightmarish haunted house attraction. However, for a place that is so popular in Derry, especially the night before Halloween- not a soul is around. I hesitantly step out of the car; Belch giving me a big taunting smile from his place in the car. “Good luck, Y/N” and with that, he sped off.

I try my best to be brave but my facial expression and voice says otherwise. My eyes nervously look around taking in the scenery, the palms of my hands are sweaty, and I feel a lump in my throat as I try to swallow. “W-W-Where is e-everyone? Why is n-n-nobody here?” I instantly begin to blush as they laugh at my shaky, nervous voice. Patrick’s smirk begins to grow into a wider smile as he becomes giddy in excitement, unable to stand still in one place. He jumps in front of me, facing my direction as he holds my shoulders. I glance over at Henry who is looking over at us with a knowing smirk. “That is the best part...you’re gonna love it Y/N; It’s gonna be a scream!” I continue to feel uneasy since Patrick still hasn’t answered my question about why no one else is here. Finally, Henry speaks up. “Let’s just say the Bower’s gang gets special treatment when it comes to getting what we want. Now we have the whole place to ourselves.” My stomach sinks realizing they probably terrorized the poor workers into closing the attractions. Patrick grabs my hand forcefully pulling me into the makeshift haunted house building. I tried to dig my heels into the ground to stop us but that obviously didn’t work as he is much stronger and taller than myself. Even if it did work, Henry would be right there to catch me so there is no use in trying to escape them.

Henry takes the lead opening the black curtain into the house, revealing a long dark corridor. The only light source illuminating the path was from the moonlight. I look up at Patrick who is on my left side. With pleading eyes I begin to mouth the words ‘no’ over and over again at him. He just smirks and shoves me forward. I clutch onto Patrick's arm as the three of us venture down to the first room...a Medical Experimentation Chamber.

As I walk into the room I frantically begin to look around at my surroundings. The room is dimly lit yet there are disorienting strobe lights flickering, blinding me. I squint my eyes to focus on my surroundings better. It looks like there's a lot of twists and turns ahead. I see medical tables equipped with thick straps and buckles for restraints. Alongside these tables is medical equipment that looks dented and rusty...or is that blood?. In addition to the visual distractions, there are deafly loud sound effects of patients screaming and the sounds of surgical tools being played on a loop. I was so distracted by my surroundings that I didn't notice Patrick trailing behind me. He proceeds to pick me up from behind and lays me down onto the medical table. Henry walks over and holds me by my arms and legs so Patrick can strap me in. They both back away from me laughing as I see someone enter the room. The man that walked in was dressed as a surgeon in all white, I could see he was covered in blood. My eyes widen in hysteria as I notice his facial features. His eyes were very sinister, his nose looked as if it was broken with a gashed cut on the bridge of his nose with a jagged hack job of stitches. My eyes began to fixate on his mouth which was spread wide and sewn into a gruesome smile. His teeth were jagged and sharp. As he leans down towards me, lowering his surgical tool; I begin to scream and thrash against my restraints. Suddenly everything becomes pitch black and the deafening noise vanishes. The only noises left in the room were the sound of me screaming and crying along with Henry and Patrick laughing their asses off. The room became dimly lit again as Henry began to undo the restraints. As he works to unbuckle me I frantically look around trying to find the surgeon who was just in here, but suddenly disappeared. I sat up slowly trying to compose myself although my body is trembling excessively. Patrick gave me no breaks as he continues to push me forward towards the next room...The SlaughterHouse.

As we walk into the next room, I am desperately holding onto the back of Henry’s shirt begging to go home. I can hear him chuckle arrogantly as he feels me gripping his shirt. Patrick whispers in my ear from behind, his hands placed firmly on my hips, “But the fun is just getting started princess.” I take a deep breath before asking no one in particular, “Can someone hold my hand? ..Please?” My voice filled with terror and practically pleading. They both look at each other at the same time, laugh and respond with a mocking as they imitate my voice- “noOoO.” I look down at my feet feeling so small until I can hear what sounds like metal clanking together- echoing louder and louder. I completely stop dead in my tracks, my legs feeling so wobbly as we enter a room with hooks. So many hooks with prosthetic pigs hanging on them! I hear Patrick from behind me chuckle and say in a taunting sing-song type voice, “Come on Y/N~ keep moving.” Henry looks at us, laughing in amusing sporting that same smirk that never left his face. Henry slowly approaches me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice is low and cold, “ Hey Y/N ever wonder what it felt like to be a pig hanging on a hook?” My eyes widen as he says this and I quickly try to make a run for it but Patrick is fast to grab me before I could. He begins to carry me over to Henry effortlessly despite my squirming. Patrick puts me down then shoves me into Henrys chest. Henry then picks me up and places me on one of the metal hooks, putting a hole in my favorite black jacket. I begin crying..again this time sobbing uncontrollably as I struggle to say, “G-Guys this r-r-really isn't f-funny. I wanna gah-g-go home now. Get me d-down pleasee!” They both laugh at my breakdown and begin to walk out of the room. Patrick peeks his head back in, “Just hang there for a sec princess, we’ll be right back ~” Henry chimes in “I wouldn’t give the butcher a hard time if I were you. He hates when you struggle...” I hear them laugh in the distance as they walk off again. That's when I heard it...that's when I heard the sound of a chainsaw and heavy footsteps charging towards me. I scream so loud I start to lose my voice a little, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. A man that looks well over 6ft tall with broad shoulders walks in. He looks like he came straight out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. At this point, I’m bawling my eyes out, screaming and desperately calling for Henry and Patrick’s help. Although realistically I know the chainsaw has no blade on it, it’s still equally terrifying. The butcher brings the saw somewhat close to my face. I wince, closing my eyes tightly as the strong scent of gasoline invades my nose, along with a faint musty smell coming off the chainsaw, as well as the man in front of me. I brace myself for the impact which never came. I opened my eyes to see the man lowering the chainsaw instead. I let out a sigh of relief thinking he is going to let me down but instead he pulls out a blindfold. At this point, I can literally hear my heartbeat pulsating through my ears. I’m trying to kick aimsley now that can't see anything. That’s when I feel someone grabbing at my legs. My blindfold drops down as I see Patrick looking up at me with his famous smile. Henry begins to get me down as he mockingly says, “I told you he hates it when you struggle, didn’t I?”

I am violently shaking from adrenaline to the point that they have to keep me upright, sandwiched in the middle of them both. I look at them and ask between sobs, “Are we done yet? Can I go home now? Please?” Henry condescendingly pats my head as if I am a child while Patrick chuckles and says, “We have one more room to complete and you’re their special guest...they kept vacancy just for you!”

As we exit the slaughterhouse we suddenly are displaced into a parking lot. A rush of confusion washes over me. Patrick just said there’s still one more room left, why are we outside? I shiver out of fright as Patrick rubs his hands up and down my arms, his head tilted as he looks at me with a teasing smirk. Henry nudges me and points up to a sign which reads “Motel” with a crooked red light flickering. It reads ‘Vacancy’. The makeshift motel looks runned-down and absolutely filthy. Henry and Patrick lead me to the front office. Opening the creaky wooden door on a spring, I walk in cautiously. I quickly become distracted by several different TV scenes that display [fake] murders taking place in the motel rooms by masked men. Blood-curdling screams fill my ears, making me even more thrown off guard. As I look around the office more, Patrick takes 2 long strides towards the front desk and rings the silver bell that is placed on the corner of the desk. I jump, flinching as he looks at me smirking. “I don’t think anyone is home.” He says in a sarcastic voice. Henry shoves me forward towards the back room now. He kneels down and opens a trap door. He looks up at me, “Ladies first.” Patrick snickers behind me as I cautiously started entering the crawlspace on my hands and knees. As I am crawling forward in the dirt ground, I feel Patrick smack and grab my ass causing me to jump, hitting my head in the cramped, narrow space. Patrick lets out a satisfied laugh. “You know, your ass is your only redeeming quality princess… that and your fear.” This earns a laugh from Henry, as well, who reaches under Patrick and grabs my ankle unexpectedly; pulling me back. I let out a little yelp and eat dirt. They both start laughing again. Finally, we reach the end of the crawlspace. Patrick reaches over me and pushes up on the door to open it. I feel Patrick lift me slightly so I can pull myself out. I take note of my surroundings. That underground path lead us from the motel office, to now one of the bedrooms. As I straighten myself out, Henry and Patrick follow closely behind, climbing out of the craw-space, as well. Before I move forward I made the decision to grab Patrick’s hand despite what he said earlier about hand-holding.

Patrick looks down at me smirking but doesn't say anything. In fact, he actually holds my hand back, intertwining his fingers tightly between mine but I can tell there’s an ulterior motive behind his actions. The door handle to the motel bedroom begins to violently shake and jiggle. The door slowly opens revealing two men wearing masks. They are headed right towards me, their long legs approaching quickly. I try to back up but sadly I was still holding onto Patrick... or should I say he is holding onto me. At this point, Patrick picks me up and literally throws me onto the bed. The weight of his body is holding my legs down. As I’m struggling against Patrick, Henry walks over and holds my arms tightly above my head giving Patrick a better hold of my legs. The two masked men walk over and one of them pulls out a knife. Unlike the chainsaw from earlier, this was a very real and very sharp knife. In a taunting way, the masked men walk over slowly- one going to my left and the one with the knife going to my right. I begin to scream but it is quickly muffled by the man on my left covering my mouth. My anxiety takes over now, not able to take any more scares. I begin to see black slowly starting with my peripheral vision as it slowly covers the rest of my eyes. I begin to drift into unconsciousness. The last thing I head was the laughter of 4 recognizable guys and the muffled talking of Henry, Patrick, Vic, and Belch.

I woke up in my bed, the sun glaring down on my face. I sit up slowly, trying to remember how I even got here. Last thing I remember was being held down by those assholes in that terrifying motel room. I get out of bed and begin to stretch when I notice something hanging on my closet door. I hesitantly walked over to my closet seeing a note stuck to the door. The paper note was help up by a knife.. the same knife from last night! My breathing becomes shallow and hands shake as I read over the note. Still feeling jumpy, I jump when I hear Eddie’s and Richie’s loudmouths enter the front door. I bring my attention back to the note which reads~

I can’t get your screams or your scared face out of my mind. How about we try to recreate them in the bedroom? -Patrick

You’re my number one target now..scaredy-cat - Henry

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Text

Down in History

Summary: Your first award function with Henry as a couple.

Pairing: Henry x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Fluffy comfort

A/N: This is a birthday fic dedicated to the wonderful Lisa (@killjoy-assbutt-1112). Babe you deserve the world and here's to me trying to make your day a little brighter. Hope you enjoy and I'm sorry I'm a day late. 🙈

Also, thank you to @the-soot-sprite for helpful writing tips and @infinite-shite for listening to me talk about this. ❤️

Song inspo:

Title: Down in History

I looked out the window as hordes of paparazzi lined outside to snap a picture of their favorite celebs. The police tried to contain the crowd, failing miserably like I was failing to contain my growing anxiety.

Closing the curtains, I turned to the beautiful dress hanging on the mannequin. It was a gift from Henry for our first red carpet event tonight. I ran a hand lightly over the satin dress, feeling the silky fabric glid smoothly beneath my touch. The bodice was embroidered with silver crystals, glinting as the light caught in them.

I chewed on my bottom lip and wound my arms around my body. I was nervous beyond explanation. The media had dissected our relationship left, right and centre. They had scrutinized Henry for being with a girl who was nearly two decades younger than him, again.

"Miss," Maurice peered from behind the door, her cat-eyed glasses perched low on her nose. "We need to start getting ready." She informed and with a nod from me, she entered with her posse behind her.

I sat on the swirling chair they had placed in front of the mirror. While the ladies got to their work, I took the opportunity to look into my relationship with Henry.

As soon as our meetings became more frequent and the paps started getting more content, our faces started to appear on blogs and websites. My life became an open book with everyone trying to pull it apart piece by piece, commenting on things they had no business getting into. I had a fair idea about Henry's 19 year old ex-girlfriend and how much slack he had gotten for it. It was the sole reason why I was reluctant to officially date him even when he persistently asked for it.

After months of running into each other every day on our daily morning runs, Henry had finally stopped me for a chat one day. I had been a bubbling bundle of nerves when he had asked my name. The sexy Hollywood heartthrob seemed like he had planned on bumping into me that day for his questions seemed like he had memorized them. I wasn't the one to complain and when he had asked if I was free for coffee, I had agreed in a heartbeat.

"He's in the other room, miss. Maurice insisted that this room should be Female Central."

"Where's Henry?" I asked, turning slightly in my seat to look at our assistant sitting on a chair typing on her iPad. "I didn't see him since morning."

"Guilty." Maurice commented as she curled the ends of my hair to fall down my shoulder in waves. "Are you nervous?" She asked, talking to me through the reflection in the mirror.

"Very. I think I'll pass out even before I reach the red carpet."

She tapped lightly on my shoulder. "Don't worry. I heard Henry tell his friend he's not going to leave your side the entire night."

Despite all his efforts, I had once almost broken up with him. Henry had been away for filming and I had stayed back at his house. Somehow my location had gotten out to the public and I had been chased by the paps and fans, asking questions about Henry. I had locked myself in his house, too afraid to go out and when Henry was unavailable for calls because of the time difference, I had been a crying mess. In the heat of the moment, I had texted him that once he is back it is going to be over for us. After a long call later in the night, lots of crying and soothing, we had pulled through.

I felt a flutter in my heart.

Henry had been the most supportive boyfriend in the world. He had been with me through thick and thin, gently easing me in his life. He had promised me that whenever possible, he wouldn't let anyone harm my image in anyway. And he had rightfully held his promise. He had assigned PR representatives to look after my public image and gone as far as to make a big celeb gossip blog retract their article spreading personal information about my life.

Maurice eased me into my dress with the help of her assistants and started making the necessary adjustments to it. I stood with my arms out, looking at myself in the mirror and marveled at the image that looked back at me.

I worried about how people were going to perceive me tonight. They were going to complain how the dress had lost its charm because it was on me. Or they would comment how I look like Henry's child, like they always did. Or maybe this time they'll comment on the way my body was built.

My eyes welled up in tears and I sniffed, looking up and trying to not ruin the makeup. A knock on the door, distracted me from my inner turmoil. I waited for one of the ladies to open it and when they did, the sight in front of me nearly took my breath away.

Henry looked daper in a suit, made to perfectly fit his body. His eyes softened as he took notice of me and he entered through the door to walk towards me. "What's wrong baby?" He asked and took my hands in his.

Maurice and her assistants were done with their work on the dress and they quietly left the room to give us some privacy. I felt my lips tremble as the self doubt began clouding in my mind.

"I-I'm scared." I muttered. The welling tears in my eyes were threatening to fall down.

"But why? I'll be by your side the whole time. You don't have to worry about anything." He reassured me, walking me towards the bed and making me sit beside him.

"They are going to comment on our age," I mumbled quietly, twirling my fingers in a curl, refusing to look at him.

"I don't care, baby. And you shouldn't either. What's important is that we love each other and I accept you for who you are."

I weakly smiled at him as Henry kissed my cheek. The tears were threatening to fall but I managed to blink them away. He held my hand, gently circling his thumb over my skin in circles. I heard him sigh and run his free hand through his hair.

"What?" I asked, worried he had something running in his own mind.

"I was going to do this after the event, but-" He said before sliding down the bed and on his knee.

My mouth fell open, stunned at the turn of events. I stared at him wide eyed as Henry fished out a signature blue Tiffany&Co box from his pocket. He smiled sheepishly at me as I could only stare at him.

"Henry, what are you..."

"Baby, I love you. I have been searching for a person like you my whole life. I have never been happier before in my life. I don't care what people say, all I want is to spend the rest of my life with you." He pressed his lips, trying to breathe calmly. "Will you marry me, baby?"

Henry opened the box leaving me mesmerized by the beautiful double halo diamond ring sitting on the plush velvet cushion. But it wasn't the ring that made me cry, it was the love that seemed to be overflowing from within me for this man. I didn't care about the ruined makeup, nor the sobbing mess I was becoming.

I barely could nod a 'yes', before Henry with tears in his eyes smiled brightly up at me. He sat up and pulled me in for a hug as I wound my arms around his neck. He kissed my lips softly, before he pulled the ring out of its box. I bit my lip and watched as he slid the platinum band on my finger, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions as it sat snugly around my slim digit.

"Now, let's go to the event and let everyone know that you aren't just my girlfriend, but also my future wife." Henry said before kissing me until I couldn't breathe.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill rpf #Rpf #Lisa's birthday fic

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fanficsrusz · 3 years

Text

POWER - Henry Cavill Smut

Warnings: Smut.

Pairing: Y/n x Henry cavill

Summary: Y/n's plan to seduce Henry backfires but in a wondrous way.

Word Cound: 7.7k

A/N: Its been a while since I've posted anything and I feel a little nervous 😅. However I've missed the thrill of creating a world all of my own. I also apologise for any spelling/grammatical mistakes. I havent edited anything for a long time so yeahhh.

Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed ❤️

"You're drunk"

The accusation, issued through Henry's teeth, was an angered hiss and Henry's reaction was everything that Y/n could have wished for… And more.

Y/n forced a little hiccup, feeling it bubble its way through her body before it made its escape out of her mouth, and almost laughed at the thin set of lips across from her that stayed in a straight line.

He looked positively prim - just like he always did.

"No-" she defended, "-I'm happy". The correction came with a sly smile, her upper body leaning towards him across the bar, her inner amusement increasing as she watched his body stiffen in annoyance.

Henry was keeping a distance between their bodies, as if he thought her intoxication may be infectious.

The hold he quickly took to her waist was more of a brace rather than an intention as she swayed forward and then backwards.

"Don't you want me to be happy, Henry?"

Y/n pouted, tilting her head back and looking at him with what she hoped would be a sultry invitation. She laughed, a bold, wicked sound that drew a few glances from others in the bar. Henry stared stiffly over her head, swallowing the lump in his throat that had seemed to form as he grew more irritated with the woman's involuntary outbursts.

"For God's sake, Y/n, control yourself", he whispered tightly.

Was he embarrassed by her lack of inhibition? No. It was quite the opposite. He felt… lost. As if he had no idea how to act in the situation he had found himself in.

It was normal for him, the playboy, to taunt her with his fancy words, to distract her with his sinfully dark looks and honeyed phrases, but turn the tables and he wasn't quite so poised himself and Y/n felt a delicious thrill of power at the knowledge that she had him off balance.

She deliberately let herself go limp in his arms, and, when his grip relaxed in relief at the stability her body found, she quickly slipped under his guard, pressing the entirety of her body sinfully against him.

Her tactics immediately threatened to backfire as Henry's coldly rigid body seemed to be generating an incredible amount of heat and that in itself was enough for her to lose focus of her goal.

She rested her check against his chest and willed away her trembling response even as she measured his annoyance by the wildly uneven thump of his heart.

"You'll regret this tomorrow," he told her sternly, his hands tightening painfully on her waist.

"'Why in hell did you drink all that champagne? Do you want to make a total fool of yourself, jeopardise a deal with Dere-?"

"Rubbish. Derek thought I was as graceful as ever; he told me so," y/n said airily, thinking that it was too late to regret drinking at a business meeting with her boss and other potential clients.

Y/n moved steadily in his arms to prove it, brushing her breasts against his chest, hoping that the crushed velvet of her dress would hide the multitude of her sins that had seemed to accumulate quickly throughout the night and not to mention the past year that she had worked beside Henry, every single dirty thought she ever had about him portraying itself as nothing more than a red stain upon her cheeks and chest.

She had never been sinful before, always a dutiful daughter, just as she had later been a faithful business partner to Henry but there was only so much a woman could take before she had to take drastic measures. Now she was neither a daughter nor a business partner. She was Y/n Y/l/n. Herself. A woman before anything else and more specifically a woman with needs.

"You're the only one who thought I was wrong for declining the partnership" , she drawled mockingly, too caught up in her reckless self-absorption to monitor his surfacing awareness. "Chill out, Henry. If you can't fix it with a snap of your fingers, you might as well lie back and enjoy the open bar…"

The thud of his heart had settled down to a swift, arrhythmic beat that set up a sympathetic vibration throughout her body from her scalp to the soles of her restless feet.

There was a small pause as he manoeuvred her pliant body away from another couple that wanted to get to the bar. Then he tilted his head to look down at her.

"Chill out?" Amusement leaked through his iron control as he suppressed the grin he held in tight. " wow- I never thought I'd hear street-slang from that elegant, business-lady mouth of yours…".

For a second Y/n gulped, thinking she had lost all control of the situation that she had perfectly built up all evening but then Y/n moved dreamily against him, fully immersed in her ideal scenario.

She linked her arms round his back and arched her neck slightly so that she could see his expression.

"But I'm not a lady tonight, Henry, I'm a woman," she said huskily.

"Should I lie back and enjoy that too?" he enquired cynically.

That conjured up indecent images that for a moment left Y/n shocked, breathless even and if it wasn't for the distant sound of a glass breaking somewhere in the bar then she would have stayed in her trance like manner.

Her lips parted as she tried to say something sophisticated in response but she couldn't think of a thing and for a moment she feared that she had lost the edge. Y/n bit her lower lip and suddenly he had control over her again, his voice rough with threat, as he gave her a small shake.

"Behave yourself, Y/n. Stop being so fucking provocative. You should go home"

"I'm not ready to go home yet" she mewled, eyes darting over to the dance floor that served as a pick up ground.

Henry sighed, his eyes following her gaze

"One dance, that's all you get. Then I'm getting you out of here before you start leaping onto table-tops and doing the can-can!"

"What a killjoy you're turning out to be, Henry" with fresh fury, she suddenly spun out of his arms and danced freely for a few moments before cutting mischievously in on another couple. Soon Henry was glaring murderously over the shoulder of a blonde woman while Y/n languished in the sweaty grasp of a nervous young man who was very aware of the hovering blue-eyed menace.

When Henry cut back in a short time later, Y/n was relinquished with ill concealed relief.

"You're playing with fire, Y/n" , Henry warned, his firm hand taking hold of her again. This time he held her so captively close that she could feel the lines of his suit being imprinted on her velvet dress.

She had the feeling that if he had been able to shackle both her wrists behind her back without attracting attention he would. He wanted to cage her, tame her, but tonight, surrounded by the security of a crowd, she was determined to be untamable, just to see how far she could push him.

"Mmmm, I know, and I feel so gloriously toasty and warm," she murmured wickedly, waggling her eyebrows at a passing male.

Henry swore under his breath and pulled her flirtatious eyes away from any male that passed by capturing her gaze before she could perform some similar impropriety. He quickly brought his own hand to his mouth to mask his aggression in the pretence of courtesy. She had been right about the shackling.

"You're drunk", he repeated raggedly, more as if he was telling himself than her. She rather liked the hint of desperation that seeped into every word he spoke. It was almost as satisfying as having him grovel at her feet.

Y/n laughed, a sensuous 'cat-with-the-cream' look of satisfaction on her face as she widened her eyes and purred, "But not incapable, darling…".

She tamed a deliberate misstep as she spoke so that her leg slid caressingly between his thighs as they turned.

Henry almost stumbled as she lifted her knee, briefly applying the pivoting pressure of her thigh firmly to the juncture of his. Her provocation had an immediate effect and she drew back instantly, finally aware that her teasing had gone too far. But it was too late. Henry had reached the end of his tether.

"Fine -" he seethed, "-we'll do this the hard way then"

Five minutes later Y/n was belted roughly into the passenger-seat of her own car.

" I'm perfectly fit to drive, Henry" she raged at the man who slid angrily behind the steering wheel before inserting her keys into the ignition.

"I'm as sober as you are!"

" For your sake, I hope that's a lie, Y/n".

His voice was nothing but a growl and y/n felt the shiver that started in her groin slowly rise up through her spine.

"But if it is true then maybe you've done me a favour. If you were teasing me deliberately I don't have to feel guilty for what I'm about to do." his eyes stayed focused on whatever he was staring at, his fists curling tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned pale.

"Do?" Y/n asked faintly as the car sprang into motion with far more power than she ever managed to coax from under the unimpressive bonnet.

"Did you think I would calmly walk away like an obedient lap-dog when you got tired of your little game ?"

"I...I... didn't think-" she began to splutter.

"No? Just instinct, was it? Trap the beast, then rattle his cage until he howls? Wasn't that your goal?"

"Henry!"

He hadn't looked at her since they had got in the car, driving with a narrow-eyed concentration, but now he slipped a grim sideways glance at her shocked expression and what he saw there seemed to ease his ferocious tension but the wolfish twitch of his mouth wasn't reassuring

"You did, didn't you? You really thought I'd let you get away with it. You didn't think I'd have the guts to drag you kicking and screaming out of there"

Y/n swallowed the dry lump in her throat. She had definitely underestimated her victim and definitely forgot to plan this far ahead.

"'I wasn't kicking and screaming," she protested weakly, avoiding the obvious answers he wanted.

"Not on the outside maybe. But your innocent act never did cut any ice with me" Henry's eyes glanced over at Y/n

Y/n clenched her fists tightly, until her nails dug into the palm of her hand, but she barely noticed. The only thing she was really aware of, was the sound of her heart throbbing against the cage of her chest.

It wasn't until she looked up into the rear view mirror, that she noticed she had been biting her lip so much so that they were almost as red as the lipstick that had wiped off hours ago.

"Scared, Y/n?" Henry jeered softly as she swallowed again, this time audibly. "You should be." he said lowly

"What about your own car?" she began weakly, hoping that practicalities might prevail where argument hadn't.

"I'll pick it up tomorrow." Y/n went quiet. This fantasy was easier to plot when she didn't have to concentrate on parrying his verbal thrusts and she tried to calm her nervous actions with whatever had made her think that she could best him at his own game.

She wished she were drunk but all she could do was hope that the drive would cool down that scorched male pride. All she could do momentarily was create another plan.

When they would finally get back to her apartment building she would placate him, contrive to convince him that it had all been a silly mistake. For all his threatening manner, she knew instinctively that he wouldn't use violence to enforce his threats. He didn't have to... all he had to do to seduce her was to take her in his arms and then she would be at his mercy. But once she had bolted her door on him she would be safe from her own wicked urges.

He could rage and huff and puff all he liked but he wouldn't be able to get in. The irony was rather quaint. All the security locks that he had insisted she have installed on her doors and windows when he first found out she lived alone in a not so friendly neighbourhood would ensure that her virtue remained unassailable - well for tonight at least.

Y/n had almost convinced herself that she had already outwitted him when she noticed the unfamiliarity of their route.

"This isn't the way to my home!"

He ignored her. The moving light thrown by the passing street-lights illuminated his shadowed expression. It was a hard mask of satisfaction.

"Dammit, Henry, where are you taking me?"

"I told you. Home."

"This isn't where I live."

"I never said I would take you to your home. I simply said 'home'. It's not my fault that you assumed I meant your home."

Henry turned into a steep, dark, curving driveway that seemed to drop away directly into the deep black glitter of a Lake that Y/n didn't even know existed in the area.

Y/n's heart was in her mouth as the car swooped towards the water, but when they reached the lower curve into darkness, security lights suddenly flickered on and she saw the brick paved courtyard clearly for an instant before the car was swallowed by the lower level of the house.

The garage door closed automatically after them, and for a moment after Henry cut the engine, the only sound in the softly lit enclosed space was the faint ringing echo of the metal door. Y/n was irresistibly reminded of the metallic springing of a trap. One that she had baited herself into.

"Welcome home, Y/n." Henry leaned towards her and she flinched, but he was merely flicking open her seatbelt.

She couldn't see him smile but she could hear the amusement in his voice as he continued, "No, not here in the car. I'm not so crude as to take up your generous invitation without due ceremony and at least a few comforts."

Henry leaned even further, reaching across her to push open her door, this time dragging his arm deliberately against her rapidly rising breasts as he withdrew.

"Get out. I'd prefer to go inside" he purred dangerously, pointedly placing her car keys out of reach in the inside pocket of his jacket.

" but If you can't restrain your wild passion and don't mind a little discomfort I'm quite ready and willing to make love to you against the dashboard"

Y/n was up and out of the car with as much alacrity as her fumbling apprehension would allow. His mocking laugh as he followed suit had her searching for the door, but he was there before her, opening it with a flourish and a small bow.

" After you. "

All the way up the narrow, spotlight staircase, Y/n was aware of the movement of her hips and legs, the breathless difficulty in her chest and, most of all, the steady, inexorable masculine tread that stalked her.

The room at the top of the stairs was shrouded in darkness, relieved by vague glimmering white shapes that made her gasp.

"Afraid of ghosts, too, Y/n? What a timid little thing you're turning out to be…". The murmured words smoked across the small area of vulnerable skin between her shoulder-blades, exposed by the discreet scoop of her gown, whispering across her sensitised nerves. There was a faint click and the room sprang into light.

The white shapes were sheets, draped over bulky objects.

Even the floor was covered by a dark green sheet, and the reason was obvious. The walls were stripped and primed, but had not yet had their first coat.

They were in the kitchen, Y/n guessed from the positioning of the shrouded fittings. Scattered about were cans of paint and rolls of wallpaper, brushes soaking in paint and the odd ladder or two. The only ghosts here were those of the tradesmen.

Yet, Y/n's heart continued to flutter with a deliciously disconcerting fear, an excited apprehension.

Without a word Henry took her by the elbow and ushered her impatiently through several more similarly dust-shrouded rooms with the unswerving instinct of a guided missile, not bothering to turn on any more lights.

The place seemed huge, and as silent and brooding as the explosively primed man beside her.

"You-you're redecorating!" Y/n grabbed at the chance to divert him from his relentless intention. Honestly it surprised her that she had known him for so long and yet had never seen his home, he didn't even talk of it much.

Henry didn't answer and she fell quiet.

He let her resistance slow him but he didn't let his grip ease. He had already been taken by surprise once too often that night.

"Have you been feeling hunted, Y/n?" Her answer was in her uneasy sidelong look. He smiled secretively. "Now you know how I felt this evening: like the helpless prey to your brazen huntress…" Y/n flushed, her whole body heating at his words. She had been brazen, utterly so, and she had enjoyed it far too obviously to try to deny it now.

Henry let her dwell on her folly for a moment before he murmured, "The answer to your question is…" his slow smile drew out the suspense for a wickedly long second "...perhaps."

His eyelids drooped, not quite hiding the predatory gleam that smouldered in the darkness. He was still very, very angry and he wanted her to know it.

"Certainly it turned out to be very convenient for you…"

His free hand came up under her other elbow and he stepped around to face her, forcing her backwards and into the realisation that while he had held her enmeshed with his equivocating words he had been slowly backing her to the wall.

"I'm no one's convenience," she spat, determined not to see the effect his calculated menace was having on her already chaotic nervous system.

"You have to admit you qualify in one or two forms of the dictionary meaning, Y/n," he drawled, driven to foment her the way that she had tormented him. "You're certainly suitable for my purposes and needs and you're close by... but no, I don't suppose you could be considered "easy to use"...

The fear that had inhibited her flared into an open temper at his overt mockery.

"If you think I'll let you-" "-Challenging me, y/n?" he interrupted softly, and watched her hesitate as she realised the certain consequences of goading him from her very vulnerable position.

"Actually," he continued almost kindly, "it's a little late for second thoughts. You've led me this far with your little game. Now it's time to pay the piper…" He dipped his head and to her tingling shock bit her gently on the side of her satiny throat. She reared back, but there was nowhere to go, no escape that didn't involve going through that broad-shouldered, lean-hipped wall of male arrogance!

"led you! You're the one who practically kidnapped me" She was appalled to hear the breathy lightness in her words when she had meant them to be firm.

"Mmm. Exciting, isn't it?" He bit the other side of her throat. "Just think how thoroughly helpless you are right at this minute. You're in a strange house, while I know every nook and cranny. All the exits are deadlocked. Even if you ran, where would you run to? I'm stronger than you are. bigger, harder, faster. You can't get away, no matter how hard you try. I can do anything I want with you. And there's nothing you can do about it, except…"

" Except what?" The mouth skimming her throat was having as violent an effect as his taunting words, arousing the deeply buried desires that she had tried to deny.

" accept what you caused" She felt the curve of his lips against her smooth skin, heard the amusement in the sensuous rumble.

He was laughing at her.

He wasn't content with merely seducing her. No, he wanted to humiliate her, too.

Sudden panic struck and with a fierce surge of strength she shoved at his solid chest. To both their surprise, he staggered back, far enough for her to dart away. With a roaring curse he gave chase.

Y/n's heart hammered as she scuttled from the safety of one covered piece of furniture to the next. She froze, listening for the direction of his pursuit, but Henry had also stilled. He was out there somewhere, crouched and aware, listening, just as she was, waiting to pounce. Her skin prickled hotly and she could feel the blood pulsing heavily through her veins. Y/n shivered with a strangely febrile excitement. She peered around what appeared to be a small table and saw a graduation of the blackness - A doorway!,

Taking a deep breath, she took to a low crouch and ran for it. As she did so she felt a rush of air as close as a blow and a throaty growl. He had only just missed her! She couldn't help letting out a little scream as she abandoned stealth and bolted, darting breathlessly to the darkened room.

Henry was never far behind and at first she was grateful that he didn't switch on the lights, the better to find her, but as his taunting laughter infiltrated the night she realised that he was revelling in the chase...and so was she!

Her inner certainty that Henry would never physically hurt her, even in genuine rage, gave an added piquancy to the situation.

She had challenged him in the most clemental way possible and he was responding in a way that was as different and exciting as he was.

The panic which had precipitated her flight became a delicious terror as the teasing game of hide-and-seek continued.

Sexual tension flourished in the shrouded silence like a living thing. He was no longer in a hurry to catch her, whispering silky-voiced threats into the night that curled her toes and dampened her palms, describing in sensual detail what was going to happen when he found her.

It didn't take Y/n very long to break. When Henry suddenly went quiet her imagination ran riot. She pressed herself even more tightly against the reassuring solidarity of what appeared to be a sideboard and quavered, "Henry?".

There was no answer and she tried hard to sound convincingly calm.

"Henry, this is ridiculous. Why don't you turn on the light and we'll talk about it sensibly?" Sensible was the last thing she felt but she couldn't stand the waiting no longer.

Y/n was just close enough to the edge of her self control to try shameless grovelling.

" All right, so I acted foolishly this evening. Now you've got your revenge and now we're even aren't we?"

Silence

"okay fine , yes, I admit it!" she cried. "I pretended to be drunk to tease you but…"

Silence,

"I did it because... because I didn't expect you to respond." And may God not strike her down for that awful lie!

"I wanted to annoy you, that's all. It was wrong of me. Childish. I'm sorry. I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You always seem to have this - control over me. I just wanted to get under your skin for once."

Silence

"Henry? Henry!' Her placatory tone slipped badly.

" Fuck!, stop it. Henry, this isn't funny anymore!"

A soft chuckle floated out of the darkness. Y/n was too disorientated to guess its direction and she whirled a full circle.

" I'm not playing your stupid game any more, Henry, so you may as well come out. I won't try and run away again. I promise."

Silence.

Y/n began to tremble, not from fear but from helpless desire. Dammit, why didn't he come out and finish what she had started already. There was a soft sound to her left, a tiny echoing click that acted like a trigger on her taut nerves, catapulting her automatically to the other wall of the room, where she backed hastily between two tented objects that provided her with a solid sense of security. A false sense, she discovered, when a hand suddenly whipped across her mouth from behind, smothering her scream.

"So much for your promises, Y/n," came the clipped murmur in her ear. "That was only my cuff-link. You ran straight into my arms."

The hand across her mouth tightened as she tried to protest, and an arm lashed around her waist, drawing her back against a hard, familiar body. He hadn't lied in his silken whispers. He was just as aroused as she was by their foolish game.

She stood there for a moment, her head against his shoulder, trembling and breathless. She tried to speak and tasted the sweat of his palm. Instead of dropping his hand he trailed it deliberately across her lips, his fingers curving into her parted mouth, stroking the inner surface of her mouth and fondling her tongue with an intimacy that was far more shocking than any explicit sexual caress.

Her heart thundered in her breast as he softly probed her moistness, scaling the breath from her lungs, as he whispered, "Do you like this, Y/n? Your mouth is like wet satin, wrapping around my fingers. Use your tongue, tell me if you like the taste of me…" The sheer intoxication of his husky plea made her moan and he quickly let his hand drop.

"Am I hurting you?"

She couldn't answer and his hand continued to fall, until it settled on the firm roundness of her left breast, his palm cupping her, feeling the pounding tumult within.

" You...frighten me," she managed to say, her taste buds tingling with each word, drowning in the full flavour of him.

"This isn't fright, Y/n…" His hand tightened and then released, to flatten and move against her in soft rotation, compressing the flesh in a way that made her tremble even more.

"This is excitement. You wanted to be caught, didn't you? You're as curious about me as I am about you, only you wouldn't let yourself admit it. Tell me now if this is not what you want, Y/n, because from here on in I can't guarantee my control…"

As he issued his rough command his hand moved to explore her other breast. The hand around her waist strayed, fingers splaying against her velvet belly, digging into her softness, reaching for the ache that was forming in the pit of her stomach. His mouth was moving against her shining cap of hair, seeking the sensitive hollows at the nape of her neck.

He was handing control to her because she made him feel wildly out of control. She had never driven a man so wild with desire that he didn't know what he was doing...

"Henry, God, -"

"don't say no, Y/n. Not now." He spun her tightly in his arms and she made a discovery that drenched her with sensuous delight.

"Your clothes…"

He had taken off his jacket and tie some time during his dark pursuit and unbuttoned his shirt so that it hung free from his broad shoulders. The hands that she had placed against his chest met with bare skin- hot, damp, satiny skin covered with thick, soft hair. His heart was almost leaping from his chest and he shuddered as she pressed her palm harder against him, marveling at the strength and power rippling beneath the skin.

"I got hot, chasing you," he said. "I still am. Wanting you makes me that way. Hot and so ready that I can hardly stand!"

He made a subtle movement with his hips and groaned as he brushed against the thick velvet folds of her dress. She felt a fresh moisture break out on his skin and in an instinctive gesture of acceptance leaned forward to nuzzle it from his chest, her mouth inadvertently brushing against one of his large, flat nipples in his nest of hair.

He made a choking sound in his throat, arching back to give her free access to his upper body and in the process ground his swollen hardness against the juncture of her thighs

"do it"

Y/n barely heard his ragged plea. Henry was so exquisitely responsive to every tiny movement she made, even to the very breath from her lips upon his skin, that he was soon deep in the toils of a dreamy delirium.

She wasn't aware of the rip he made in the back of her dress when his shaking hands wrenched the zip down, only of the molten sensuality of his gaze as he steered her into a shaft of light near the window and studied her breasts. nestled in their cups of pure white lace.

"Did you wear this for me?" he asked thickly, roughly tracing the outline of the lace across the curving swells. "Did you want me to take off your dress tonight, Y/n? To admire you like this?"

His arousal was so flatteringly intense that she couldn't deny him the truth.

"Yes…"

She closed her eyes, gasping as she felt the stroke of his thumbs across the seams, finding the rigid tips that were evidence of her own desire. He made a sound and she felt him kneel to pull her velvet gown over her hips, revealing the white panties and suspender belt in the same simple lace design as the bra, demure yet sexy in their essential femininity.

He made another sound, this time deep and guttural, his hands running up the backs of her thighs, pulling them closer and parting them slightly.

She opened her eyes, clutching at his naked shoulders as he moved his mouth hotly against the lacy front panel of her panties and pressed a string of kisses from the soft skin at the tops of her stockings to the deep, frantic pulse at the hollow of her hip.

Y/n could feel the cool air along her pussy as warmth settled there. Rough hands sent a shiver through her body as they ran the length of her thighs, kneading her ass before finding their way back to her pussy, and pushing her panties to the side for a better look at what she had to offer. Y/n shook and he purred in approval of her reaction.

Henry pressed forward until Y/n felt his lips along her folds, teasing her before delving deeper. Y/n gasped at the first taste, the tip of his tongue poking at her entrance, her arousal spilling forth. Henry ran the length of her pussy until he flicked her clit, the twitch it brought forth made him snicker into her skin. He dragged his tongue along her clit again, grazing it over and over as her pelvis flinched unwillingly.

“shit,” she hissed, trying not to moan though it felt so good.

Y/n clung onto his shoulders, the buzz she felt in her stomach coming closer to finding its release. Her thighs trembled as he grew more persistent, his tongue agile as it drew forth an orgasm but just before she could relish in the exquisite feeling, he pulled away. It had been almost a year since you had been pleasured by anything other than her own hands and this was starting to drive her mad.

The sight of his dark head moving against her and the sensations he was creating made her cry out in helpless need and he looked up, a dark blush crossing his face when he saw her starlit expression.

He stood and kissed her on the mouth until they were both breathless. Then, still holding her, he reached behind him, dragging the sheet off the nearest object.

It was a smooth, polished mahogany dining table, it's dark surface reflecting the muted lights from the moon.

Y/n imagined him laying her down on that smooth hardness and leaning over her, feeling the melting pleasure of his touch.

Henry turned her, pressing her hips against the carved mahogany edge.

"I've never made love on a table before," she whispered raggedly, hoping that she wouldn't disappoint him with her relative inexperience. No doubt he was used to women who were terribly adventurous and sexually sophisticated. She thrusted the jealous thought away and linked her arms around his neck, reminding herself that she could make him shake with passionate need. She could make up with enthusiasm for what she lacked in experience and he would never know the difference.

He stilled and she was afraid that she had destroyed the moment with her naive little confidence. Henry lifted his head and looked at the table behind her. Then he stopped and swept her off her feet, lifting her into his strong arms.

"No, not here," he said hoarsely. "The first time should be in a bed.." He began to move with Y/n in his arms and she turned her hot face against his broad chest, adoring him for caring enough to make this exactly right for them.

"I don't want to wait." She told him shyly of her need and his arms tightened, the muscles of his shoulders and neck bunching into prominence as his stride quickened.

"You won't have to." He turned into another doorway, dipping an elbow against the wall until twin lamps glowed, their light filtered into a soft, golden delicacy by the cloths that swathed them.

Henry didn't let her go as he removed the covering over the bed and stripped back the dark feather quilt. When he finally put her down it was on to crisp white sheets that released a lavender fragrance to mingle with the heated scent of arousal that perfumed their bodies.

Henry stood by the bedside, looking down at her. Then he spread his hands, revealing the light tremor that shook his hand ever so gently.

"Look what you do to me. You make me weak. No one has ever had that effect on me" Y/n reached out a hand and touched his trident stomach.

"You're the strongest man I know," her hand ran down his stomach and over the muscle underneath as she moved down to his belt. She tugged at it gently

"I want you" she purred.

The knowledge of their mutual desire flared in his hungry eyes, hardening the planes and angles of his face until it looked as rigid as his body under her exploring hand. He caught her wrist before she would have touched him intimately, folding her arm back into the pillow behind her head he knelt beside her.

"Say it again. Say my name."

"I want you to make love to me, Henry." Her words were a promise to give him all that he wanted and more.

"No more running?" he raised his eyebrow jokingly and Y/n shook her head, unable to speak as he unclipped the front fastening of her bra, sensing that he wanted her to lie quiescently as he bared the last secrets of her body.

She felt shy, like a precious gift being gloatingly unwrapped, but she didn't resent his moment of purely masculine triumph. The glory of the moment was also hers, this beautiful man that she had known for so long finally hers. He was giving himself to her and asking nothing but what she was willing to give in return. For tonight and perhaps for many nights to come she would let him satisfy the hunger in her soul, colour the cold grey corners of her world with a warmth and vibrant life that would dispel, at least for a time, the loneliness she had come to accept many years ago.

"I want you, too…" she whispered as she welcomed the joy of his touch.

Henry undressed himself with a fumbling haste that she found inexpressibly exciting and when he came down on to her she gasped at the violent energy of his enthusiasm. Y/n stared up at him, his cock hanging out for all to see.

The controlled, disciplined man she had grown to know vanished completely. In his place was a greedy, intemperate, ardent and impetuous male, urgently intent with plundering each and every lavish pleasure of flesh.

Henry smirked, his hand slowly pumping his dick a few times before he bent down and slid the tip over her slit and pushed inside roughly, allowing her no resistance as he filled her entirely.

This moment when he took her would live vividly in her memory forever.

The shocking reality of his first thrust stilled them both but then he stilled, chest shaking, half across her body, his head buried in the curve of her neck.

'Surely he's not going to stop now,' y/n thought hysterically as her body slowly adjusted to the agonising fullness, and she felt the involuntary ripples of tension begin to absorb him even more deeply into her being.

Y/n dropped her head back as she let out a low growl as he thrusted sharply, allowing a moment between each as they were jolted into the bed. His hands were on her hips, holding her down as he slid in and out.

Relax and enjoy was about all Y/n was capable of doing as his sensual onslaught built towards a fiery climax. He devoured her, feasting on her body with blind hunger, biting lushly into her skin, sipping and suckling the sweetness from her achingly swollen breasts as his hands adjusted her body around his, moaning and shuddering so violently when she even lightly caressed his body with her own that she resorted to merely riding the exquisite storm as he sank deeper than before.

Henry groaned and y/n felt a sudden burst of warmth, his cum leaking down her legs as she let the feeling of her own orgasm near

She plunged a hand into his sweat-drenched hair, and pulled his head back.

"Henry-"

The moan came quickly and she hardly recognised him as she gawked up at him. His mouth was full, reddened, the skin drawn tightly over the bones of his face giving him a lean, hollowed-checked wildness, his deep set eyes open but blank with inner turbulence. He looked almost totally insensate.

Y/n felt shaken by a sudden wave of tenderness as his cock slid over a soft spot inside her, her fingers curling tightly into silky-damp hair.

"Henry--"

The tenderness flooded her being and was just swiftly followed by another wave of intense feeling as Henry stiffened and pulled back slightly, the pupils of his eyes contracting, his jaw clenching as he fought the blind instinct that was relentlessly driving him.

"I hurt you, didn't i." he gritted. "I went too fast for you. I'm sorry." He moved up on his braced arms and tried to withdraw further but she stopped him, almost sobbing.

"No... oh, no"

Henry hesitated and she moaned again, this time a bitter protest, "No, please, no, not yet…"

Y/n's pussy tightened and she murmured in delight as he slowly thrusted against her again, her sensitive walls sending a thrill up her spine.

She was fighting to hold on, and he watched, puzzled and then fascinated, as she moaned, her eyes wide with a strange fear and confusion. Her fingers slid laxly out of his hair to clench and unclench helplessly on the pillow. A deep rosy flush spread up from her damp, heaving breasts to mantle her throat and face. He realised then what was happening to her and waited, afraid to move again for fear of breaking the wondrous spell, watching hotly as the inexorable momentum built swiftly to a flashpoint.

Only when she rolled her flushed cheek sideways into the pillow did he move, cupping her face with his strong hand, forcing her to look at him.

"No, let me see... let me watch it happen to you...I want to watch"

Her eyelids fluttered at his husky command, her blush deepened, but she was too enraptured to feel embarrassed, too stunned by the speed of it all to deny him anything he asked. Her mouth trembled and parted and she began to gasp in light, shallow breaths that made her flushed breasts quiver deliciously, invitingly.

He bent and touched a stiff pink nipple experimentally with his mouth, very gently. She jerked and cried out, exploding beneath him in a series of violent convulsions that almost unseated him. He gripped her thighs and held her steady while she sobbed and moaned and poured herself into him, and then, as she melted lovingly around him he at last began to move, uncertainly echoing her undulating movements until he established his own powerful rhythm, this time driving her with him, until his raw shout of exuberant satisfaction signalled that the whirlwind was spent.

In the morning Y/n was grateful for the resilience of her relative youth. Even after a long hot shower, her muscles ached with the extravagance of her strenuous exercise. She felt as if she had been battered, not by one whirlwind, but several. And she had. If she had thought that Henry's incandescent passion would swiftly burn them both out she discovered, through the ravishing reaches of the night, that she was marvellously mistaken.

His desire, like his curiosity about her body, had proved insatiable. And, although the second and third time they made love it was not with the stunning speed of the first, it was still fiercely, gloriously energetic. He encouraged a boldness in her that she hadn't known she possessed.

He made her feel unutterably sexy, as if she was the only woman in the world who could satisfy his lavish appetite for lovemaking, and he devoted and demanded the same kind of single-minded commitment to creating pleasure that he did to his more worldly objectives. In short, he was every bit the fantastic lover she had imagined he was.

Y/n smiled to herself as she sipped her coffee. Was this a case of being hoist by her own petard? If so, everyone should have such a virile executioner!

"You look quite disgustingly smug."

Henry had showered, brought her coffee and toast in bed and casually dressed in front of her with the ease of a man who was thoroughly satisfied with himself and the world in general.

"You're looking fairly smug yourself," she answered boldly.

"Making love in the morning obviously suits us both and in the evening, and at night. By the way, what are you doing at lunchtime?" Y/n couldn't stop blushing and Henry smirked.

She wasn't that bold - yet.

If she and Henry were lovers for long she didn't doubt that she could become very, very brazen.

"Eating," she said repressively.

Henry refused to be repressed. "you're a wicked, decadent woman." He leaned over and tugged at the sheet that was tucked over her breasts and down to her waist. Y/n squeaked and held out her cup, afraid she would spill some of the hot liquid as he bent to lightly kiss her rosy softness.

" is all of you on the menu, or just selected divine parts?"

"You're a glutton!" Y/n murmured weakly, closing her eyes, shivering at the tingling pleasure his delicately teasing tongue evoked.

"Ouch!" Henry winched, The coffee having splashed onto his cheek as y/n unconsciously let the coffee cup slip.

"Serves you right." She didn't pull up the sheet, sitting primly among the crumbs and cotton sheets, deliciously aware of the contrast between her nudity and his dark, formal suit as he moved away.

He had told her he had an early meeting --one reason for the necessity to rouse her just after dawn by making love to her sleepy, languorous body.

Waking up to find Henry inside her was just one of the new, fresh pleasures of life!

"Will you meet me for lunch? This meeting should be over by then." He straightened his tie in front of the mirror then walked back to her.

"If you want me to…" He cupped her chin, reminding her of the way he had refused to allow her to hide from him last night.

"I want you to. Make no mistake about that, y/n. I have no regrets. None."

"Good." She lifted her chin and tried for a little of the sophistication he was no doubt used to. "I wouldn't like to think that I had disappointed you."

To her annoyance, he laughed. He straightened, letting his fingers trail down her throat. "There wasn't much chance of that, believe me."

"Oh, are you so confident of your prowess?" she snapped defensively, feeling suddenly restless and mentative. "You can turn any woman into your personal love machine?"

He seemed unruffled by her irritable crudity, a strange smile still playing around his lips.

"On the contrary. I'm afraid I have no basis for comparison."

"What?" Y/n stared at him blankly.

He scooped up a slice of toast and bit into it. "Couldn't you tell, Y/n? Was my gift such a paltry thing? I thought one's partner could always tell."

What was he talking about? To her horror, Y/n suddenly realised that, although he had used protection afterwards, that first, rough coming-together had been utterly spontaneous and Henry certainly hadn't held back. Did he purposely try to get her pregnant? Was he not really the man she thought he was? No- that couldn't be it.

"What gift? T-tell- me. what?" she stammered, raising her cup to hide the quiver of her mouth, hoping he wasn't going to prove as selfishly arrogant as she suspected!

" Why, that it was my first time, of course." And, as she continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly over the top of the cup, his smile gentled into a tender warmth. "You were my initiation, Y/n. I gave you my virginity, you gave me my manhood."

And, leaving her gasping and choking with shocked disbelief, a pool of hot coffee soaking into the sheets around her, he calmly turned and walked out of the house, a new found pride in his stomach and so much more to be discovered.

Taglist (added in reblog ❤️)

#Henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill one shot

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