#au henry cavill x ofc

[itstheimpossibledream]

Finished

Pairing: Henry Cavill x you

Prompt:Henry & y/n invited to his moms for thanksgiving. Mom also invites his ex.His mom is super strict so everyone is supposed to have separate rooms, mostly for his ex to slip into his room but she opens the door to find you sitting on his face.

This one was kind of tough but, ended up being a super fun story to write!Hope you guys enjoy it !Thanks for your ask, hope this lives up to the expectation.

“Are we going?” you ask quietly.

“Do you want to go?”  he says, cocking an eyebrow in your direction.

“I mean….. It’s your mother. We kinda have to.” he pulls you in closer letting out a low hmmm. 

“Yes. but, I don’t visit her often for a reason.” he says quietly. The heft of his arm and the sheets around you calling you to relaxation. 

“And what’s that reas-”

“She’s crazy.” he says bluntly. You laugh,immediately knowing he’s joking . It was very out of character for him to call anyone out of their name. Much less his own mother. You look up at him to notice he isn’t laughing, not even smiling.

“O Henry, come on! She is not crazy, I’m sure she just misses you. That’s why she calls so often.”

He caresses your face “My mother is a tiny, blonde psychopath. I love her with all my heart but, everytime I bring a woman home she gets so attached I- it’s hard to explain.” he trails off.

“Guess I’ll just have to meet her then!” you squeal sleepily into his chest before drifting away in an ocean of plans.

You packed, you brushed your teeth, and were ready early in time for the flight. Henry slept most of the way but, you were too filled with questions of if she would like you, and what he of all people meant by calling his mother an attached psychopath. The hours ticked away and you looked worriedly from the clock on your phone to Henry.

“Maybe she just forgot we were coming today?Should we call?” you ask

“Nooooo. No. She has forgotten nothing. This is what she does. Constantly trying to keep me on my toes, I guarantee you she’s up to something.”

You snort through your nose “Henry I guarantee your mother is not that malicious.”

“Have you met her yet?” he jokes flatly. Just then the car pulls up a decently clean but embarrassingly tiny red kia soul, flying like a bat out of hell. 

You exhale, taking a step off of the curb and waiting for your moment of truth.

She jumps out of the car and runs to her son, jumping into his arms. He smiles for a minute holding her and you see the light of a little boy flicker in him for a moment. He pulls back at the sound of the trunk popping open and begins to load the bags into the back for the weekend. 

“Mrs. Marianne I am just so excited to finally get to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you and I’m really excited to-” She cuts you off turning back to her son.

“And Hen you remember Ellen.”

That’s when you see her, a leggy blonde with a perfect smile stepping out of the car that just makes your heart drop. Ellen fucking Whitaker. Ofcourse, champion show jumping horse rider from a family of professional horse trainers and not to mention gorgeous but, most importantly Henry’s ex- fiance. 

“Cool, cool ,cool ,cool” you can hear yourself muttering under your breath trying not to explode.

“Mum this is y/n! She was very excited to be invited.” he confirms, giving you some comfort that he’s on your side. 

“Mmm. Well that’s darling.” she spins on her heels heading back towards the driver’s side of the car.

You follow Henry as you both hug Ellen and exchange your greetings. She seems to think his mother bringing her here is just as ridiculous as you do and while you still despise her presence that knowledge makes it vaguely reassuring that she hasn’t come to fight for his love. 

“Henry, dear sit up here with me I want to hear all about LA.” he rolls his eyes, making his way to the passenger side while you and Ellen assemble yourselves in the back of the tiny car with the luggage. You flip your phone over in your lap and notice a text from Henry. “I love you.Don’t stress out. She’s just like this.” you text him back a heart emoji but, it’d be a lie to pretend your heart wasn’t still caught in your throat. Not only did his mother refuse to acknowledge you. But, she brought some random ass woman that she obviously plans for Henry to be with instead. Actually , no.Not random, which is even worse! Am I spirialing ? I feel like I’m spiraling. You had completely zoned out of the sweet family reunion happening infront of you an attempted to string some words together in your head that would help you explain how you feel to him when you finally got alone time. You entered the driveway of the estate and his mother handed the keys to the valet , excusing herself and calling Ellen to follow her inside. Being excluded from the girl’s powwow didn’t bother you as much since if gave you a chance to speak to Henry. The Butler offered to help but, he insisted on doing it himself, calling him by name. And you were momentarily reminded of the things you did love about Henry. You followed behind him as he carried things to the room. You tried to make small talk with him as you unzipped your suitcase and began pulling out your necessities for your facewash routine. “O ummmm-” Henry looked at you as if trying to hide back from saying something. More bad information you were sure. 

“You actually have the room down the hall.”he says sheepishly.

“What do you mean?” your eyes widen despite your attempts to quell your emotion. He has to be crazy. There’s no other way to explain.

“My mom doesn’t want me to share a bed in her home unless its with the woman I’ve marrried.” he says , hands up in a defensive position. 

You exhale slowly repacking your things. “Sure. Ofcourse. What wouldn’t she want that.”

You knew it sounded bitter but, you couldn’t help it. 

“Hey -” he grabs your arm as you head towards the door, pulling you in and kissing you .His hand coming to your cheek, fingers resting on the back of your head, giving you the comfort he couldn’t offer with words. 

“Plus” he whispers into your lips “It will be fun to sneak around like kids for a few days.”You roll your eyes at him as his hands make their way to your ass. He gropes you for a bit before you escape his grasp headed to your room or Marianne created dungeon. Actually the room was quite nice. The flowers on the wall paper felt like a bit much but, the room got great sun and wasn’t to far from the bathroom . You liked that the estate had an old-timey feel of walking down the hall to use the toilet. Plus, it allowed you more excuses to be where Henry is. You unpacked your room and then sat on the bed next to your empty suitcase before exhaling,and finding the strength to get dressed for dinner. 

You stepped gently down the stairs ,trying to avoid the steps that creak when your hear the door close behind you. Looking up over the landing you see Henry at the top of the stairs.

“What are you doing?”he asks flatly.

You become aware of your hunched back and your body language from testing the step with your toe.

“I- I just don’t want to go.” you confessed.

He rushes in your direction, “Sweetheart you don’t have to.”

“No I mean I want to I just ….I was so excited to meet your mother and she just-”

“Listen” he leans against the wall scratching the side of his face. “I was trying to protect you. I should have tried to explain her more but it’s- she’s just so embarrassing. If you want, we can cut it short and go home tomorrow.” he seems genuinely saddened that his mom had been so rude. You hadn’t even had the chance to tackle Ellen’s presence before you hear a fumbling downstairs and his mother calling for him. He looks at you silently giving you time to decide. 

“I still want to try and win her over.” you whisper back to him. He laughs a little at your  determination and offers you his arm. You walk to dinner together and his presence gives you comfort.  

At dinner your seats are assigned. Shockingly your seat is not next to Henry’s but one of their family friend’s who was also visiting. You thought it a smart call on Marriane’s part. Had it just been the four of you for dinner the meal was sure to mostly be had in silence. You sat across from Henry and although he and Ellen had a few hushed moments this test actually caused you to feel more confident in your relationship. His mom was being a bitch but, when she did he’d nudge your foot under the table. This nudge eventually turned into a quiet game of footsies but, as adults your were grateful for the reminder that no matter how it seemed he was always prioritizing you. By the time dessert came you decided you wanted to try pushing the boundaries. His mother hadn’t said anything rude to you, she simply had not spoken to you at all. And if she had already decided she hated you  then there wasn’t much left for you to do but, enjoy the sculpture of a man that she had created. You slipped your foot from your shoe and let your footsies progress to you rubbing him through his pants with your foot. His eyes shoot to you across the table,but he doesn’t give you away. You can feel him growing harder under your toes as he melts into his chair. His face looks so small and innocent, looking at you, trying so hard to be in control, to be good. His mother hurls a few rude words but, you are to turned on by the view across from you to care. Once dismissed from the table, the tempered dash to the bedroom is quick. His hand presses into your back as he practically pushes you up the stairs. His room was the closest to the stairs , as you walked past he grabs your arm , pulling you in. 

“Heeeeey hey hey.” you whisper to him as he slips his hand up your dress. “I think your mother will notice if I’m not in my room.” he groans into you. “Shhhh. I’ll come back later” you pull back winking at him. He slowly removes his hand and you turn, switching out of the room. 

You promptly switch into your best lingerie and robe while counting the minutes, listening as the sounds of the house grow softer and softer. When the coast seems clear, you softly make your way to Henry’s room. You push the door open slowly trying to mitigate the creak as much as possible.You can see his figure sitting up in the dark. You drop your robe to the ground as he closes his book. “ I thought you’d never come!” he exhales. He places his book on the nightstand and you jump into bed, straddling him. His hands reach around to cup your ass and your grab him by the wrists. 

“Don’t touch.” you warn. He cocks his head to the side as if to question the change from your usual power exchange. 

“Only with your tongue.” you smile, leaning in to kiss him. He smiles coyly and you move yourself up the headboard of the bed. You grab onto it as he pulls your panties to the side. He hums into you and you are doing your best to keep quiet as you grip down onto the headboard beneath. You reach your other hand down cradling the back of his head while his tongue explores further into you. Biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying out ,you pull his hair and his hand smack your ass in response.

“Fuck” you exhale into the darkness and just then you hear the door creak open. 

“Oh no!” you turn around to see Ellen, and no sooner than you lock eyes, you grab the duvet pulling it over both of your bodies.Henry is confused and ends up being mostly exposed during the shuffle.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Ummm your mom told me to- I’m sorry I-” She turned , rushing out of the room; a flurry of nerves and embarrassment. The door slammed behind her and you both looked at eachother, momentarily embarrassed too. But, then you both broke into laugher. This entire trip had been absurd, this is almost just on brand. You lift your leg in an attempt to end your straddling of him , when he stops you with a hand to your lower back. Smiling while looking up at you he says 

“I wasn’t finished yet.” and you melt back into him. 

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[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Tonality [3]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: more creepy dream fuel, Geralt being slimy and having ulterior motives, and a little more tension with reader and her mother. all in all, i think you guys will enjoy this latest addition. as always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics​

The doe’s coat is as yellow as spun gold, and she blinks at you nervously as you approach. You cannot hide your childish squeal of delight, though it vexes her further. She nickers, shifting from hoof to hoof as she blinks at you with wide eyes. 

 “Papa, is she really mine?” You ask, your quiet voice heavy with awe. “She’s beautiful.” You hold out a hand, and her nostrils flare at your scent. Her long ears flick back, laying flat against her head behind her horns. They’re small—she’s young, barely a year old, perhaps less—and still covered with soft, velvety baby fur that you know will shed as she ages. 

 “Careful,” your father’s voice is ripe with caution. “She is new. Young, still, and a bit unwieldy.” You cluck your tongue at her, producing the sugar cubes you’d stolen from your mother’s tea tray from the sleeves of your dress. “I said careful—!” The doe leans forward, pressing her muzzle into your outstretched hand. You raise an eyebrow at your father, who shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh puffing out from between his lips. You stroke her head, running your fingers gently between her antlers and softly flicking ears. 

 “She about took Gaspard’s hand off this morning, she was so wild,” he says, shaking his head. “And yet she eats from your own as if you had weaned her yourself.” 

 “Did Gaspard try sugar?” You ask, giggling as her lips tickle your palm. “Perhaps she mightn’t have tried to amputate his fingers had he kept some of his salt to himself.” The wind shifts, and beneath the doe’s thick animal scent, there is something else.

 Something like sulphur and rotting meat.

 Your hand passes down the doe’s head, and her skin sloughs off beneath your fingers, leaving shiny, white bone behind. You gag, clapping a bloody hand over your mouth as fat flies buzz lazily out of her empty eye sockets. Wrong. This is wrong, it doesn’t happen like this—

 How does it go, again?

 Your father gifts you the doe, the golden doe, you are eighteen, you are a woman now, you will ride with him on the hunt, you will—

 “Su—gar swe—et,” Your father’s voice is the buzzing of a thousand glistening black flies, his tongue is made from them, wriggling in his wide open mouth. His eyes are children’s scribbles, black and writhing, and tears like ink drip from their corners. “It tasted like sugar—”

 It is then that you remember your father is dead.

 He is dead. He is dead here, because he is dead everywhere, dead and rotting and gone but not gone and you mustn’t listen, you mustn’t—

 You wake with a sharp gasp. 

 “—Princess?” The words dissolve into a static, meaningless drone as you are thrust suddenly back into consciousness. For a moment, the dream is still overlaid over the waking world like runny watercolor as you blink groggily in the dark. Beneath your trembling fingers, you can still feel the doe’s soft, golden coat—and the sharp, polished bone of her skull. With a sweaty palm against the wall, you retch, doubling over as you heave. 

 Nothing comes up. 

 The air around you is stale, stagnant, and the taste of dust and decay blankets your tongue as you swallow down lungful after panicked lungful. One thing is abysmally clear to you as you dizzily rest a hand on the cold stone to keep yourself upright—

 You are not in your rooms. 

 Where am I?

 “Princess.” The voice sounds again, and your head snaps about wildly, your eyes wide as you stare into the dark. The dream is still there, sticking the fringes of your waking thoughts like tar, and for a moment there are two voices, one made of dark black honey, sickly sweet, and the other the insectile buzz of a thousand glassy wings all beating in unison—

 “Wh-who goes there?” You ask, dragging the back of your hand across your quivering mouth. There is a sound like the sharp rushing of air, and all at once the room is lit with warm yellow light. You suppress a scream as your father’s withered, sunken face appears before you, his eyes like children’s scribble—you shut your eyes, closing them tightly as you whimper. 

 “A dream, this is a dream, a dream—” A cool, bare hand wraps about your wrist and you scream, pulling and fighting as fiercely as you can manage. “No! No! You’re dead—!” You cry, hysterical tears creeping out of the corners of your closed eyes. 

 “I regret to inform you, little sister, that I am very much alive.” It is not your father’s voice—not the dead—but your step-brother’s. “Despite your best attempts to dispatch me.” Slowly, you open your eyes, sniffling as you meet his gaze. He nods up at your balled fists, still trembling in his grip. You can feel the heat of him through his own loose night-shirt and your thin cotton shift, and your skin prickles as he licks his lips. 

 “Release me.” You say it with more confidence than you feel. For a moment, you feel your step-brother drag his thumb across your pulse point and cock his head, as though he is considering it. 

 “Will you strike me again, little princess?” He asks, a mocking smile curling at the corners of his mouth. You scowl. “I did not plan for a midnight brawl.” You shake your head, your cheeks flaming. Geralt stares at you for a moment, like his golden eyes see something yours do not. As you prepare to make the demand again, he frees your wrists. You clutch your hands to your chest, eyeing him warily. The torch he has lit casts the long room in dim orange light, the flames dancing in his irises, turning them molten. It is the firelight, you think, that makes him look so menacing, so…

 Hungry. 

 You shiver, turning your gaze instead to your surroundings, squinting at the long stone hall in the flickering light. The cool, stagnant air is disturbed only by the sound of your quiet breath, which catches in your throat as your eyes widen.

 “Where…are we?” You ask, though you fear you know the answer already. 

 The walls are lines with alcoves bearing countless candles, stuck into the melted pools of wax left by their predecessors rather than into proper candelabras. And in neat rows in front of them… 

 Graves. Made of the same gray stone as the castle. Highly polished and clean, they are each adorned with ornate carvings of their occupants. You stare grimly at the rows and rows of polished stone, and wonder at how you might have possibly found your way here through the dark labyrinth of the castle. You think again of the dream, and gooseflesh rises again on your skin. 

 ”Did you bring me here?” You round on the prince, your brow furrowed. He chuckles in response, and the sound of it grates against you. 

 “Me? I merely followed you. In truth I had wondered why you would visit the catacombs at this hour. I thought perhaps,” his eyes narrow as a crude grin plays at the corners of his mouth. “A secret paramour, or—”

 “Do not confuse me with yourself!” You snap, wrapping your arms around your body as you shiver. The prince clucks his tongue at your ire.

 “Come now, don’t be cross, little sister,” Geralt purrs. “It wouldn’t have been proper to leave you wandering the hallways in your state of undress, muttering to yourself like a madwoman.” Your cheeks warm at his crude words, and you feel angry, embarrassed tears flush hotly into the space behind your eyes. You blink them back. 

 “I… have not walked in my sleep since I was a child,” you admit, looking down at the space between your bare feet. Geralt hums in response. Old Madge, in her half-blind wisdom had always muttered fearfully to your father about your nightly escapades. 

 A soul shouldn’t walk about at night, she would say, her thin, knobby fingers twisting strands of honeysuckle and dried lavender together into a long chain, one she would wind around your bed’s posts every night for a year until finally you stayed in it. A soul shouldn’t walk about at night. What’s it lookin’ for?

 “I fear I…” You shake your head, swallowing your concerns—they are not for him to hear.  “No matter.” For an instant, a look of disappointment crosses his face before it is gone again, leaving you to wonder if you had even seen it at all. “Thank you.” Your reluctance is palpable. “For waking me.” 

 “You’ve no need to thank me. Not yet.” His eyes glitter darkly. You swallow thickly, and they follow the movement, sweeping almost lazily down the line of your throat. “Let us go.” They flick back up to yours. “Unless you wish to spend the night here?” He gestures behind you, and you shiver again, shaking your head quickly. 

 “Please.” 

 You are grateful to leave the eerie silence of the royal catacombs behind you, following as closely as you dare behind the prince. His torch throws up strange shapes on the walls of the narrow, spiraling stairwell. You can feel the dream sitting at the edges of your thoughts, waiting eagerly to settle back over you like fog. You were not predisposed to bad dreams, and yet they seemed to be the only ones you have had since you arrived. You have been beset with dark thoughts, nipping at your heels like hungry dogs, no—

 Wolves. 

 The two of you emerge from the narrow stairwell into the empty chapel, and the vast hall echoes with your entry. The sconces are dark, and the robed, painted priests nowhere to be seen. The chapel is far less intimidating at night, the sharp features of the northern gods softened by shadow. Cold moonlight filters down softly through the domed ceiling, the colors pale and muted. For a moment, the perfectly round moon is framed perfectly by the pane of red glass containing Father Wolf, shining bright crimson above his head as you pass beneath it. 

 The choking scent of the incense is gone now, and only a trace of it remains in the still air. It is overpowered by a thick, musky animal scent that reminds you of wet fur. As the two of you cross the center of the room, Geralt hooks left, towards the wide, dark archway on the other side of the room. It gapes open like a toothless mouth, the stone floor sloping downward steeply into the dark. 

 You stop at the top of it, the warm air stirring the loose hair about your shoulders. Geralt turns to look back at you, raising a brow and cocking his head p as he lifts  the torch higher. There is a question in the tilt of his head, unspoken on the curve of his lips.

 Are you afraid?

 You are. The dank, pungent animal scent washes over you again, and you shudder. It reminds you of your father’s hunting dogs.

 “Come, little Doe.” His voice feels like cold fingers drawn across the back of your neck. “You need not fear the kennels this night.” 

 “I am not afraid.” You jut your chin out stubbornly, even as gooseflesh erupts along your arms. 

 “Good,” he purrs, licking his lips. “They can smell it.” Geralt descends down into the dark maw, and you reluctantly follow. Like most, you are no stranger to the rumors that leak steadily from King Vesemir’s halls; fantastical tales of furred beasts whose jaws were wide enough to swallow a horse whole. You clutch yourself, inching closer to the prince as the sloped path straightens out, opening into a massive cavern. 

 Geralt’s torch is little more than a pinprick of light in in the vast, unyielding dark. The warm glow only manages to dimly outline the shapes of natural stone pillars, throwing up misshapen shadows. There are still more passageways, little more than tunnels, littering the walls like pockmarks. For a moment, the light of Geralt’s torch throws a long arm across the chamber. 

 Reflected in it’s light are two, glowing orbs. Eyes, the size of dinner plates, their color impossible to describe. It was as if the eyes themselves were ablaze, glowing brightly, breaking the darkness. Over the rush of your own labored breath, you can make out the quiet scratch of claws on stone. It’s coming closer. The thought tightens your throat.

 You are powerless, paralyzed before it like prey. Are you prey? You suppress a whimper. There is warmth at your back, and you realize belatedly that it is  Geralt, so close his breath brushes the back of your neck. 

 “No fear, little princess. No fear.” 

 In less than an instant, the creature stands just beyond the ring of light cast by the prince’s torch. Faintly, you can make out the hulking shape of it; larger by far than any horse. Shaggy white fur, stained a rusty red around its muzzle, it’s ears pricked up and forward as it listens to the sound of your breath.

 “Hold out your hand.” You do, lifting a trembling palm in front of you as if to stop the wolf from coming any closer. The wolf’s lip curls, exposing the wickedly sharp tip of a fang. It sniffs at your hand, and for a moment, you fear you will draw back nothing but a bloody stump. Your shock is palpable when it presses the tip of its snout against your hand, whiskers tickling your palm. 

 “Incredible.” The word escapes with the release of your held breath. You stroke the warm, bristly hair on its muzzle slowly, your eyes still wide with disbelief. The dire-wolf snorts, claws tapping against the stone as it turns from you. As quickly as the wolf appeared, it is gone again, disappearing back into the dark. You remain as you were for a moment more, your arm still outstretched as you watch its retreating back with terrified wonder. 

 “Yrsil.” Geralt’s voice drags you back to the present, and suddenly you are aware of how close he is to you, the way his warm breath ghosts against the shell of your ear.  “The she-wolf. Her name is Yrsil.” You jump away from him, smoothing your hands down your shift as you eye him warily. 

 “Why did you bring me here?” The accusatory note in your voice appears to amuse him, further stoking your ire. “To frighten me?” 

 “If I wanted you fearful, I would not have needed the kennels to do it.” You clench your fists, glaring hatefully at him as he resumes his casual pace across the cavern floor. “Come, now. This is the quickest way back to the eastern wing of the castle. I would not lie to you.” You glare at him, your eyes narrowed.

 “Would you not?” You reply dryly. 

 “I am many things, Princess.” Geralt’s voice drips into your ears like snake oil. “But liar is not one I am eager to add to the list.” 

 True to his word, the two of you emerge from the kennel entrance in the throne room, the hot musk of below sticking uncomfortably to your skin and hair. You half expect the prince to take his leave, now that you are back in familiar territory, but he doesn’t. He keeps pace with you all the way back to your chambers. The heavy door is still slightly ajar, no doubt from your midnight venture. The prince places the lit torch in one of the empty wall sconces before leaning expectantly against the wall, his body partially blocking the doorway. 

 “Excuse me.” 

 He slowly tilts his head, fixing you with a questioning look. “I do believe there is something you are forgetting, my Lady.” He parrots Kassandra’s tone with irritating accuracy. “I know Redania keeps to the old customs as well as they can, however here in Rivia we do require a certain level of decorum.”

 You clench your fists in your nightgown. “What do you want, Geralt?” You ask, exasperated.

 “A kiss should suffice, little Doe.” He purrs. His golden eyes burn the same way they did in the gardens the night of your mother’s coronation. You shake your head in disbelief as you stare at him, your lips parted. 

 “Y-you cannot ask this of me!” Your repudiation is a shrill squeak. “T-tis  indecent, w-we cannot—!” You shake your head again. “The king will not allow—”

 “I think you will find, little sister,” he reaches forward to trace the pad of his forefinger along your jaw-line, “that it matters not what the king will allow if he is not present. Do you see him?”He pushes your head to the side, forcing you to look down the hallway. “I don’t.” This is the closest Geralt has ever been to you, practically pressing you against the wall, caging you in with his massive arms. You understand now, the message relayed beneath his words—you are in no position to negotiate. 

 “You are my brother!” You plead, but he is unmoved. 

 “In name only.” He leans down, twining a lock of hair between his fingers, tugging it gently. “My father’s sham of a marriage has remarkably little to do with me.” You press yourself against the stone as he leans closer. “Come now, little Doe. Let us speak truth.” He tugs gently at the satin ribbon at the neck of your shift and it falls open. 

 “What you saw in the gardens intrigued you,” Geralt traces a path from your chin to your collarbone, his fingers feather-light, “did it not?”

 “No!” His open amusement at your conviction is like cold water down your back. 

 “I saw, Sweetling,” he says lowly. “The look on your face—”

 “Fine!” You shrill, tearing yourself away from him. It is not true, it cannot be—and yet, your blood rushes through your veins, a thin tendril of that same shameful longing uncurling in your belly. The dark curiosity that had driven you to peer around the hedge all those nights ago surges with sinful familiarity, even as you try to stamp it out.

 You lean forward with a grimace, rolling onto the tips of your toes. The prince cups your chin, smoothing a finger along your lower lip. He is unprepared for you to turn your head sharply, your lips brushing against his stubbled cheek. It is only the quickness of your movement and Prince Geralt’s own surprise that allows your malicious compliance, and you dart away, ducking under his arm and through the slim gap in the door. 

 He snarls, reaching for you, but you slam the it shut, sliding the bolt into place with speed that surprises you. Your heart hammers against your chest as for a brief moment, there is silence on the other side of the door. 

 “Aren’t you clever,” he sneers, his voice muffled through the wood.  He tries the handle before letting out a muted curse. “Open the door.” Your silence earns you a dark growl. “Open it!”

  You jump back from the door, muffling the sound of your scream with the palms of your hands as Geralt throws himself against it. It shudders in its frame, and for a terrifying moment you fear it will burst open, revealing the enraged prince on the other side—but it does not.

 “Open it!” You shrink against the wall as he seethes, his threats echoing in your ears. The sturdy wood holds against his assault, and when he finally stops, you can hear the sound of his labored breathing on the other side. That too, gradually fades into silence, and cautiously, you approach the door. Somehow, though you cannot see him, you know he remains there, waiting. 

 “You will regret this night.” There is grim promise in his words. “Little sister.” The sound of Geralt’s retreating footsteps makes your shoulders sag with relief, and you collapse against the wall, your breath labored. Though you doubt he is still there, waiting to ambush you in the hall, you do not dare open the door again until morning—

 Just in case. 

 —

 “It is a beautiful day, is it not?” Your mother flutters her fan daintily as she basks in the warm end-of-summer sun. To her right, Lady Amelia, red-faced and sweating beneath her pale face paint, forces a smile through her obvious discomfort.

 “Oh yes, Highness.” She blinks as a cloudy bead of sweat slides down into her eye. “Lovely.”

 You know the noblewomen fawning over your mother would much rather be inside, sheltered from the hot sun by the cold stone of the castle. It was where you would have been, if not for the summons from your mother. You had spent the majority of the past week or so in your chambers, reluctantly leaving them only when strictly necessary in your attempts to avoid the prince.

 The Prince.

 At the thought of him, you cast a wary glance at your surroundings, looking for the telltale gleam of his golden eyes, or the shock of his snow white hair. Thankfully, you find neither. Crossing the patch of soft, green grass toward your mother, you perch impatiently on the end of the carved stone bench as you wait for her to notice you. You make idle conversation with her ladies as you wait, twisting your fingers nervously in the fabric of your skirts while you try to parse out your request.

 I want to go home. 

 “Ah, daughter,” she greets you, and you drop your head respectfully as she addresses you. “Come to enjoy the weather?” She gestures around her at the blooming garden. “I daresay we shall miss it soon enough.”  She stretches, the jewels adorning her fingers and throat shining brilliantly in the sun.

 “It is lovely,” you say, nodding agreeably. “It does remind me of home.” You curse yourself as the word slips from your lips. Instantly, your eyes fly to your mother’s face, watching for the displeasure you know you will see written in the stiffness of her smile or the narrowed slant of her eyes. 

 “Of Redania, you mean.” The soft curve of her lips belie the dagger sharp edges of her words. The smile you force in return is weak, trembling at the edges of your mouth. 

 “Y-yes. That is… what I meant to say.” You do not miss the way her ladies lean in amongst themselves, whispering. “D-did you wish to speak with me?” Though the day is unseasonably warm, and you yourself are surrounded by people, you feel small and cold and alone. Adrift. 

 “Must a mother need a reason to see her child?” She asks, rising gracefully from her seat. One of the servants rushes over with a parasol, but she waves him away, shaking her head. “If a reason must be given, I suppose mine might be that I have missed you.”  She loops her arm through one of yours securely, steering you off the patch of cool grass and back onto the garden path proper.  The whispers of her ladies follow behind you, biting at your heels they fade. 

 “I am your mother, and yet I cannot recall when last we broke bread together.” 

 “I have found myself quite exhausted, of late,” You mumble the half truth. “I fear the journey weighs heavily upon me still.” You suppress a shudder as you remember the dream, your father’s rotting face bloated with fat maggots—“I have not slept well.” 

 “Late night escapades do tend to be quite exhausting.” Her lips curve into a cold, knowing smile, and your belly fills with hot lead. Shame turns the blood in your veins to ice as your mother inspects her sleeve. A terrible fury rages beneath the placid surface of her pleasantries, and you cower in the face of it. 

 “M-mother, I—” The words will not come, leaving you floundering as your mouth opens and closes in silence. “H-he—”

 “Did you think I would not see it?” She spits. Disgust drips from the words.    “Would not notice his...” She pauses, her eyes narrowing as her mouth twists with displeasure. “Interest.” You swallow against the lump in your throat, knowing it matters not but still wondering who might have seen, who might have witnessed Prince Geralt raging at your door. 

 “Mother, I-I swear to you, I have done nothing—! H-he, I—I walked in my sleep, a-and he found me, I—nothing happened!” You hate the look on her face, like your pleas of innocence have only confirmed your guilt. “Nothing—”

 “Nothing?” Her lip curls. “You must know these games you play, all they have done is pique his interest.” She speaks as though somehow, you should have known better. “Men are stupid, willful creatures, desirous of what they cannot have.” She clucks her tongue at you. “Your father coddled you far too long—you are a woman grown! It is long past time you act like it!” 

 “Father would believe me!” You sob. Hot, angry tears spill down your cheeks.   “I am innocent!” Your mother stares at you coldly, before reaching forward to cup your chin. 

 “It is not your innocence I question.” Your mother’s voice is deceptively soft.   “It is your sense.” You blink at her through your tears, trembling. “My sweet, naive girl.” She wipes roughly at your tears with the pad of her thumb. The cold distance in her eyes splits you cleanly down the middle like a sharp blade. There is part of you that wants to fawn, to deliver honeyed words on a platter until her love shines down on you again like the sun—

 And part that wants nothing more than to flee. You want to ask—no, beg—for her to send you home, to return you to the walls you knew better than the lines on your own palms. Your mother embraces you, her lips brushing your cheek even as your own work silently. The words won’t come, like they are stuck in your throat. 

 “There should be only honesty between us.” Your mother says. “Understand?”

 I want to go home.

 Send me home.

 Please.

 “Yes.” You hang your head in defeat, the words retreating from your tongue.  

 “Good.” She chirps as she leans away. She is herself again, smiling affectionately as she brushes imaginary dirt from your dress, tucking loose strands of hair back into your fraying braid. “And you’ll tidy up for supper, won’t you? We have missed you at the table these past nights.” You clasp your hands together so tightly that your palms sting as you force a smile.

 “Of course.” 

 For a moment, just a moment, the warm breeze carries with it the smell of rot and earth, and you remember the doe, your father’s gift dead and bloated in the patch of hexweed in the woods. 

 It smells like sugarcane, but it isn’t, your father had taught you young. It smells sweet, but it’s not, understand? 

 Perhaps, you think, as you reluctantly follow your mother’s retreating back, people can be hexweed too.

to be continued…

next

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt smut #geralt fanfic #AU #medieval!au #medieval au #royal!au #royal au #dark fantasy au #GoT AU #darkfic #boxofbonesfic #Tonality fic

[littlefreya]

Summary: Revenge is a dish best-served cold

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

Word count: 1.9k

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

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

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

Neptune's Snare

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take off your cowl.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you a mute?” 

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

“Captain,” he corrected. 

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

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

It couldn’t be.

Perhaps she had the wrong man?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you came to me. Why?”

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

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

“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded. 

She nodded, her throat clenching. 

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

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

“Ever sucked a cock, pet?” 

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

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

“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”

Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.

“What is it that I do, pet?” 

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

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

“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke. 

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

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

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

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

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

‘Do it, do it now.’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x ofc #AU!August Walker #Pirate August Walker #Pirate Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader

[ellethespaceunicorn]

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Title: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out 

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: Syverson x Female!Reader 

Word Count: 951

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU. 

Warnings: apocalypse AU, accidental pregnancy, language

A/N: A submission for @the-slumberparty BINGO challenge. My bingo squares include beach day, family friend, accidental pregnancy, and apocalypse. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me 

My Masterlist  

As you sit just past where the water rushes on the beach, you can feel the mist of the water on your face. Sea salt is in the air, and you relish the smell. You can remember coming to the coast with your family as a child. 

Of course, that was before the world decided to end. Before you had to change your entire way of life in the blink of an eye.  

Now, moments like this are but a distant memory. Your shoes are off. Your toes are buried in the sand. Saliferous wind from the ocean is blowing through your hair. Next to you is a duffel bag full of essentials, at least what you could grab on short notice.  

Escaping the compound turns out to be a bit trickier than you had hoped. But with a close friend at the guard station, you sneak by and out of the gates without a second glance. You make it out of town before dawn, watching the sun rise over the water. 

By now, you know that your superior officer will be conducting roll calls and noticing your absence. You did not care enough to go back, but you wish your brain would stop letting you worry about what was going through their brains. 

‘Is she alive?’ For now, yes. 

‘Did she go alone?’ Technically, no. 

The distant sound of tires on gravel does not surprise you. Neither does the noise of the rusty truck door opening and closing. The softness of sand being kicked up by big boots creeps up to the side of you. You do not have to look up to know who is next to you, but you do anyway. 

The dusty old camouflage pants with thigh holster and sweaty brown plain t-shirt gave him away in an instant, but your eyes continue higher. His unruly beard covers his irked expression, his mouth set to one side as he chews his inner cheek. You’ve known him long enough that he chews his cheek whenever he gets upset. 

He looks down into your eyes and you watch as they wander across your form. 

“Your brothers are worried sick about ya. I told ‘em I would come to look for ya,” He sits down in the sand next to you, “Runnin’ ain’t gonna fix our little problem.” 

“Our problem, Sy? First, it is not our problem. Second, it is not a problem. It is a baby. And this baby wasn’t exactly planned, I understand that. But I don’t expect you to do anything. We can get by on our own.” Your voice breaks and you hate that your eyes are blurry with unshed tears. 

“I wasn’t callin’ the baby a problem. And if ya think I’m lettin’ ya raise this little hellion on yer own, yer outta yer damn mind. Now, yer brothers are my best friends in this whole damn world. And yes, they’d kill my ass if they knew I got you pregnant. But they’d resurrect me and kill me again if they knew I’d let ya off on yer own. Shit, I’d kill my ass too.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it does nothing to stop the fat tears that escape when you blink your eyes. The shuddering breath you take is enough to have Sy scooting closer to you and bringing you into his arms. 

“Don’t cry, Sweetness. We’ll figure this out. Together,” He kisses your forehead and snakes a hand down to your stomach, “Let’s give ‘em a chance, alright? Make a better world for ‘em and all that nonsense. I can’t fathom losing both of ya, let alone either of ya.” 

“We should have been more careful—” 

“Well, we weren’t bein’ careful. And now, we got a kid on the way. So what? Every time we face a little trouble, you gonna run?” He wipes away your tears, looking into your eyes again. 

“I’m really scared, Sy. What are we going to do?” The tremble in your voice has Sy holding you tight. 

“Well, to start, we tell yer brothers about the baby. Then, whaddya say we go over to the doctor, have everything looked at? Make sure he’s growing fine and everything.” 

You laugh, not able to hold your amusement. “He? You already know it’s going to be a boy?” 

“Well, ya know my folks had five boys. Yer parents had two before they had ya. Odds are it’s gonna be a boy, Sweetness.” 

“I’m a little shocked. What changed your mind about everything? You were not this verbal when I told you yesterday.”  

He bites his lip, looking out at the sea before answering. “I guess I was too scared to admit how I felt about ya. And then, outta nowhere, you give me the best gift in the world, and I didn’t know how to handle it,” He takes a shaky breath, then continues, “I’m sorry I waited ‘til now to say it, Sweetness. I love ya. I love ya, so damn much. And nothing would make me happier than to raise this little one with ya.” 

You climb into Sy’s lap, holding his face in your hands, and resting your forehead against his. “I love you too, Sy.” You lean in and slot your mouth against his. You allow him to take the lead as his hand tangles in your hair. 

Pulling back, you smile at each other. Nothing needs to be said. You turn in Sy’s lap and watch as the waves crash in and out. You have each other and you have this baby. With a love that burns bright like yours, neither Hell nor high water would be able to snuff it out. 

A/N: Title taken from There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths. It seemed perfect for this story. 

**Tag List** 

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel @geralts-yenn @rebelangel1102

#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #cpt syverson #syverson x reader #syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #syverson x you #syverson smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill x you #apocalypse au

[ashbrat488]

Candy - August Walker Fanfic

August Walker x Original Female (escort) character

Trigger warnings: talks of abuse and torture

Summary: August Walker, the CEO of a renowned Security Firm located in the bustling streets of Washington DC. His life is a constant juggling act, burdened by the weight of stressful responsibilities. The strain on his marriage is palpable, with his relationship barely holding itself together. However, he remains tethered to his wife primarily for the sake of their son, whom he adores dearly.

To find solace amidst the chaos, August forms a unique bond with an escort who goes by the name "Candy." Their clandestine meetings become a refuge for him, an escape from the pressures of his daily existence. For over nine months, their encounters grow in frequency, and August finds himself becoming increasingly possessive of Candy's time, although he strives to keep their interactions as casual as she desires.

However, their relationship takes an unexpected turn when August accidentally discovers Candy's true identity. Intrigued by this revelation, he begins to interfere in her life and even meddles in the affairs of her boyfriend, who coincidentally works for him. As August's feelings deepen, he wrestles with the idea of whether he can make Candy choose him over her current life.

This story is 40 chapters and over 50k words. I will be posting one chapter at a time, if you ever want to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

This story (as well as any stories I post) is only for those over 18... it will include all sorts of sex including MFM...

And there will be a special guest star by Lloyd Hansen...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 - coming soon

Taglist If you want to be added or removed from my list, let me know 🫶🏻

@identity2212 , @alicedopey, @propelkingkitten , @critfailroll, @mrsevans90 , @carrie80reads , @thearcana-moonlight , @devotedlythoughtfulanchor , @alwayzmsbehavn , @dangerousblizzarddreamer , @secretdream2 , @evansabove1981 , @juliaorpll78 , @kingliam2019

#august walker #henry cavill #august walker x ofc #lloyd hansen #henry cavill au #henry cavill xofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Masterlist (Complete)

Y'all know my drill. I have a new series I can't wait to share with you and you just have to tell me if you want it!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Series Summary: FBI Agent Dean Syverson is looking to take down one of the most notorious drug traffickers in Miami, August Walker. A stakeout leads to the revelation that Sy's long, lost high school girlfriend, the "one who got away" is now working for August. Can he get her out before it's too late?

A/N: I originally thought this would be DEA Agent!Syverson, but research pointed me in a different direction. Hope it doesn't disappoint.

Word Count: 33K

Series Warnings: Drug use, drug trafficking, smoking, alcohol, p in v sex in various positions (I can't name them all here; the whole thing's not written yet, but close!) threesome (MFF), light dom/sub behavior, past relationship pining, cheating (-ish?), world travel, special guests, and more! I'll try to update if anything comes up.

Playlist: As always

Taglist below the cut; if you are on it you will be tagged; please let me know if you want on/off and if you would like Everything or just this story:

Everything Henry: @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @feelmyroarrrr  @sweetdreamsofgelato  @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @dedicated-to-a-brit-and-a-scot @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1  @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @lizzystuffsthings

#walk with me teaser #fbi agent!syverson x ofc #drug czar!august walker x ofc #fbi agent!sy #drug czar!august walker #syverson au #august walker au #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #august walker #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #walk with me #deandoesthingstome

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

One of two kinds - Part 1

Masterlist

A/N: "Part 1", Nina? Part 1? And it's 8.7k words long? Yes, yes, yes, part 1. Guess centaur!Sy will have to wait for a bit, right? I don't even know how I came up with the idea for werewolf!Geralt (affectionately known by me and a few others as "Weralt") but OH BOY am I glad I did... And then Geralt kept getting bigger and the Druid kept getting smaller, and now we're left with this.

I don't think this qualifies as monsterfucking just yet, but rest assured I promised someone knotting and that will happen...

Characters: werewolf!Geralt x halfling!druid!OFC (unnamed)

Summary: When you find a wounded, new werewolf in the forest, you can't just leave him lying there. Perhaps the enormous man will turn out to be exactly what you needed...

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MINORS DNI, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected. Be smarter!), dirty talk, SIZE KINK, annoying banter (❤️), lots of teasing, mentions of sexual assault, murder, blood, violence (that took a turn), and just so that no one is confused and comes after me for this later... SIZE KINK!!! And one suggestion of a very inappropriate use of wildshaping... I think that's all but if I missed any, let me know.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @keanureevesisbae @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @peyton-warren @ramadiiiisme @mysweetlittledesire

The groans and whines cut through the forest, clearly half-animal half-man to your ears. It awakened your curiosity; it was likely a shifter, or so the wolf-like howls would indicate. Wolf-hybrids were so rare that you almost discarded the possibility immediately, but shape shifters were common enough in all forms.

Swiftly you flew through the thick of the forest, towards the source of the cries. He wasn’t difficult to spot; a bright white fleck on the forest ground – and one of considerable size.

Behind a tree, you shifted back, carefully rearranging your skirts – for some reason – before stepping into the small clearing where the creature cried. He was possibly the largest wolf you had ever seen! An adult male, from the looks of it, but a new one. One who had only found his wolf recently. Older wolves rarely went through the trouble of shifting to their full form unless it was a full moon or mating season...

Careful not to startle him, you crept towards him until his big, golden eyes locked on yours, in them an expression of pain so overpowering that you nearly felt his agony yourself. The cries got louder until one echoed in your head: “Help!” He spoke the Common language, to your surprise. He didn’t feel human, even after you disregarded the obvious animal energies.

“Shh,” you said when he yelped, clearly in tremendous pain. He allowed you to touch his head, leaning into your touch and nuzzling your hand. From here, you could see a rather gruesome cut on his stomach and a bite mark on his thigh from something not much bigger than him – but maybe a lot angrier. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” you whispered to him while trying to think of a way to move the behemoth out of the cold. Even your wolf form wouldn’t be large enough to move him.

With the absence of other sensible options taken into consideration, you arrived at the conclusion that magic was the only viable solution. The creature whined softly as your spell lifted him off the floor, and you dragged his levitating body carefully through the woods, until you found the cave you were looking for. The rough floor was cold, but it would have to do.

“You need to shift back,” you whispered as you sat by his enormous head. Gods, whoever this was had to be an exceptionally large man – especially compared to your small frame... “I know it hurts, and I know it’s terrifying, but I can’t heal something as big as you,” you pleaded. You ran your hands through the soft white fur on his neck in an attempt to calm the wolf down. It was obvious to you that he was fighting his shift, and you knew that meant it would hurt him all the more. He simply couldn’t hold on to his wolf form forever.

Slowly, the rhythm of his breathing steadied under your touch. “Good, good...” you muttered, raking your fingers through his fur. “Stop fighting it, it won’t hurt if you let it happen.” It wasn’t quite a lie, but it was something slightly other than the truth: phasing wasn’t painful, per se, but uncomfortable enough to be experienced that way in the beginning. The feeling was certainly more or less an acquired taste.

“I can’t...” The grunt that sounded in your mind was accompanied by a low growl from the creature.

“Yes, you can, I know you can,” you said as you smoothed a hand over his cheek. Watching a werewolf – or were-anything – phase was a sight somewhere between gruelling and fascinating, but this man somehow made it look powerful and captivating in a way.

His human – or rather, ‘regular’ form, as you were still convinced this man was at least not fully human – was as impressive as his wolf; Approaching – perhaps even exceeding – two metres in height, with broad shoulders and no shortage of muscle. As your curious eyes raked over his form, you couldn’t help but notice other parts of him that were quite sizeable... Immediately, you discarded the thought: All it took was one look at his abdomen and thigh, both of which had sustained quite a bit of damage.

“Don’t move,” you told the man as you placed your hands over the wound on his stomach before you started on your first healing incantation. “I won’t be able to heal you completely, but I should be able to get both of us through the night,” you muttered as you watched the wound carefully, not taking your hands off the man until the bleeding had stopped. At least that put him out of immediate danger...

The wound on his leg, you had already noticed, would require a more finessed approach; it ran rather high on the inside of his thigh – a place that was impossible for you to reach without putting your hands in places that you had better not touch, even as a healer, without it being strictly necessary. Luckily, now that he was no longer continuously fighting his transformation, and with the other wound in a less alarming state, the man seemed to be in considerably less pain.

“Could you, eh... I need to... Please,” you stammered, your cheeks glowing hot as you made vague gestures at his crotch. “Can you move your, eh... Parts... out of the way, please?”

He looked at you and cocked an eyebrow, while a devious smirk spread on his face. “Parts?” he asked, a hint of that same smugness unbecomingly evident in his voice.

You cleared your throat and tried – and failed – to keep your voice steady as you spoke again: “Yes. To put it plainly... Ehm... Move your dick.” The man snorted, lowering his hand tragically slowly and cupping his... package, so you had access to his thigh. Without thinking, you straddled his leg as you put your hands over the wound, quietly marvelling at the sight of his vast, tree-trunk thighs, fighting the urge to moan as the muscles twitched beneath your fingers. “What did this to you?” you asked softly while still concentrating on your spell.

“Don’t know, didn’t see it,” the man grunted. So, he wasn’t one of many words... He let out a sigh of relief as you finished your work and took your hands off his leg. There was no doubt that it was still sore, as you weren’t able to continue your treatment right now – not if you wanted to make it through the cold night with the slightest bit of comfort, at least.

“How does that feel?” you asked the stranger, and he replied with another grunt.

“Much better,” he groaned. Then, he moved his leg in such a way that made you lose your balance, and you tumbled forward, until you were on top of him. Actually, ‘were launched on top of him’ was a far better description. He barely grunted as you landed on him, but when your eyes met, he was looking down at you in utter befuddlement. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were...” He awkwardly pinched his fingers together in a gesture that could have meant absolutely nothing other than ‘small’.

“I’ll have you know I’m exceptionally tall for a halfling, you brute!” you snapped, frowning up at him. Despite your feisty attitude, you didn’t dare move, as you were very aware of the rather unfortunate position on his body you were in. Luckily, he seemed far less plagued by reservations regarding the situation, and before you know it, his large hands grabbed your waist, and he pulled you up towards him. His sly grin never left his face as he set you down on his stomach, just above the wound you had just been working on, which now presented itself as a new scar, the fresh skin pink and shiny and – above all – delicate, making you extra careful not to make any unexpected moves.

“What’s your name?” you asked, feeling it was only appropriate at this point to find out that information about him.

“Geralt,” he said with a low chuckle. You repeated it – it was a rather unusual name – and introduced yourself, still seated on top of his chest. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “Do you have any idea what happened to you?”

“I... Well, you saw the aftermath. I don’t know what attacked me, and... You seem to know a lot more about what I am than I do,” he said slowly. Something in his voice suggested he was lost, confused and perhaps even a bit scared.

“Get some rest,” you said, conjuring up a soft bed of moss beneath the man, “I’ll try to gather some food.”

It was not an easy task, as it was rather dark out and also quite cold, but you managed to forage a batch of mushrooms and berries that, together with the provisions you carried, should make a nice meal for the both of you. Upon your return to the cave, you saw Geralt, slowly scurrying through the cave – still in the nude, as he of course did not have any clothing at this time. He had almost finished building a small circle of stones. Next to it, there was a pile of branches and twigs, and a supply of larger blocks of wood. Since there was no axe present, those blocks had to be a testament to his incredible strength.

“It’s freezing,” he said plainly when he noticed you standing there. Yes, the temperature. You had already noticed it yourself, but now that you were faced with this man, sanding upright, completely naked, you rapidly felt the temperature of your body rise as you involuntarily let your eyes glide over his imposing form.

“It is...” you replied, never taking your eyes off of his generous endowment. It truly was freezing. A chuckle escaped him – of course he had noticed your completely inappropriate staring – as he sat back down on the layer of moss you had conjured for him. “I can light it,” you said quickly, before Geralt could move towards the stone circle. You sank to your knees next to it, and quickly built a fire. Then, you focused on cooking the two of you a meal.

“It’s not a lot,” Geralt complained as you handed him his portion of the food you had prepared.

“I’m so very sorry! Naturally, I foresaw these circumstances, yet neglected to pack enough food to accommodate a giant like yourself,” you snapped at him. What did he expect you to do? “What are you, anyway?”

“My father is a half-orc, and my human mother clearly isn’t quite right in the head,” he scoffed. You struggled to suppress a chuckle. As far as you were concerned, his mother had had exactly the right idea... “Though I suspect you would disagree with that.”

“I beg your pardon?” you said, not even feigning indignation at the implication in his remark – it was perfectly genuine. How dare he make that assumption? He was right, of course, but how dare he?

For whatever reason, he decided not to press the matter, finishing his meal without making another sound.

“Your mother was also a werewolf,” you said after swallowing the last bite of your own supper. “Your father likely wasn’t, which would explain why it took so long for your first shift to occur. I take it you’ve been away from home for a while, too?” As you had already expected, Geralt nodded in reply to your question. That just about explained the entirety of his current predicament. When you looked into his eyes, the hint of fear was back again, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the man.

“Alright, I can tell you haven’t the slightest clue as to what’s happening to you, so I will do my best to explain it as clearly as possible,” you said – not that your knowledge on shape shifters was so vast, but it had already become painfully obvious that you knew more than this poor sod. “If you want, I will stay with you until your transformation is complete."

You expected him to argue with you, to tell you to waste your time on something else, or that he would be alright without you. Instead, Geralt accepted your offer without so much as a single complaint – he truly must have been terrified. It wasn’t unimaginable; things were happening to him that were not only new to him, but beyond anything he had ever imagined he could possibly be.

“What do I have to look forward to?” he groaned as he stretched out on the patch of moss again, not bothering to cover his body with... Well, there was nothing he could possibly cover himself with... Your cloak surely wouldn’t suffice – it would barely be enough to cover one of his enormous legs. Besides, you’d get cold if you handed it to him. To fashion a blanket out of moss would be possible, but it would leave you without a bed, as you were really starting to get tired, and using more magic was out of the question. To leave him bare through the night, however, especially in his current condition, would certainly prove disastrous for him. With the fire still going, his attire – or lack thereof – wasn’t an immediate concern. His question, on the other hand, was.

“You have made it through the worst part; the full shift is unanimously more difficult and more painful than the half shift,” you explained. “It should follow within a few days. In the meantime, prepare to feel... moody – although I suspect it wouldn’t be the first time people say that about you – and restless, generally uncomfortable... There won’t be a lot I can do but keep you company and help you through the shift, but at least you won’t be alone.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, turning onto his side on the makeshift bed. This time, when you looked closely, he shivered. “You don’t happen to have anything larger than that handkerchief you call a cloak, do you?”

“I do not, but if you’re nice and stop insulting my size, I can make you something. It would leave us with just one bed, though,” you said, your tone about as snippy as you felt was to be expected after a remark like that.

“I don’t see a problem, there’s plenty of space for both of us on here,” he replied, his eyes holding something just shy of an apology.

“Alright then,” you said, walking over to him and fashioning a cover out of moss for him. It was large enough to cover both of you, but you opted for your cloak as you lay down on the soft, green, makeshift mattress next to him. He’d been right; there was plenty of space – largely because you, of course, hardly took up any.

“Will it always feel like this?” he said suddenly, just as you informed him that you were going to sleep. “The tearing inside, the... pressure?”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” you said softly, turning around to face him and placing a hand on his cheek, his face almost comically large underneath your tiny hand. “You learn to live with the wolf. Right now, you’d do well to remember that you’re not fighting him; there’s simply no point to it, he’s never going away. He just wants to...”

“Play?” Geralt scoffed.

“You’re being sarcastic, but you’re hitting the nail on the head, actually,” you said in earnest. He looked at you, his golden eyes glowing enticingly in the light of the fire. “He wants to get to know you.” Your gentle touch, combined with your words, calmed him down, and he inhaled slowly and deeply. “Get some rest.” On a deep sigh, he closed his eyes, and before long you heard low and loud snores – echoing through the cave...

“Good morning,” he grumbled. Morning? Was it morning? As far as you were concerned, morning came after a good night’s sleep, and you didn’t get that, so morning? Your tiny little behind!

“To you, maybe,” you snapped, “I didn’t sleep a wink. Caves have quite the echo, you know. And you...” He cut you off, surprising you by putting an arm around you and pulling you against him, his lips close to your ear.

“I’m not asleep anymore,” he growled, “why don’t you get some sleep now.” With one swift move, he wrapped his blanket around you too. Why didn’t you get some sleep? Beg your pardon? As if there was even so much as a remote possibility of getting any sleep. It was morning. And what that meant for this man – who, beneath that blanket that you were now under as well, was still very much naked – was that it was really morning.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep with that giant...” He cut you off again, this time with a bout of roaring laughter that echoed through the cave loudly enough to give anyone a serious headache. “Alright, that’s quite enough, Geralt.” You got up and paced to the other side of the cave, where you inspected your supplies. There wasn’t a morsel of food left after last night, and your water supply was dwindling swiftly – especially now that you had to share it. “There’s a town, not too far from here. I will stock up on some supplies and find you some clothes. Please tell me you know how to hunt?”

He scoffed – a sound that was positively dripping with disgruntlement at your implication. “Leave me the bow,” he grunted, “not that those... darts will kill anything, but I’ll give it my best.” He reluctantly took the crossbow from you and inspected it. “Do you have a knife?” You could tell he tried not to laugh when you handed him one of your daggers, and he closed his mouth again, swallowing the comment he had been tempted to make. “This will do just fine.” The smile that adorned his brutish features wasn’t quite genuine, but it was close.

As you gathered your things and made your way to the entrance of the cave, he stopped you: “What do you mean ‘a town not too far from here’? You’ll be walking for hours!”

“I was never going to walk, dearest,” you taunted before shifting, leaving Geralt baffled at the sight of a rather unusually large raven before him. By means of a goodbye, you cawed a few times before taking flight.

You returned to the welcome sight of a flickering light coming from the cave, and the smell of roasting meat. It was still light out, leaving you with plenty of time for foraging, and mending the heap of scraps you carried in your pack now would make a fine activity for the evening. The sight you were met with when you entered the cave, however, left a thing or two to be desired.

“Would it be too much to ask that for the few days we call this cave our home, we do not turn it into a pigsty?” you snapped as you stepped around a pile of entrails. “Did it occur to you to take care of these beasts outside?”

“I was going to clean that up,” Geralt growled at you, “you returned sooner than I expected.”

“Does the phrase ‘as the crow flies’ mean anything to you, Geralt?” you retorted.

“You turned into a raven, not a crow,” he replied, his uncalled for stoicism only fuelling your anger.

“I hardly think you are in a position to be a pedantic arse about this!” you exclaimed, balling your hands into fists in an attempt to prevent yourself from saying something you didn’t mean – in the interest of keeping the peace for a few days, of course. After a deep breath, you felt confident you could speak without insulting him: “Thank you very much for providing us with food. Here are some clothes.” You handed him the things you had bought him, which he gratefully accepted.

“I’m almost done cleaning the hides,” he said with a kind smile, “In case you wanted a bed of your own tonight.” By the end of his sentence, his voice dropped, as if the thought of you sleeping anywhere other than next to him brought him sadness. Without another word, he put on the garments you had given him. Luckily, you had gauged his size quite accurately, and they fit him well. “No undergarments?”

You snorted. “I think I happened upon the place where you phased, are these yours?” You tossed the scraps you had gathered at his feet. After a brief inspection, Geralt nodded. “Well, then it seems like you never felt the need to wear undergarments to begin with, Geralt.” He smiled at you – and in this moment you’d have given everything to just be able to say he smiled up at you, but seated on the floor like he was, his face was just about level with yours. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment to his expression, which irked you – to say the very least.

You ventured out into the forest, looking for something to add to your meal – though you doubted Geralt would have any problem whatsoever with a dinner that consisted solely of meat. During your search, you noticed for the first time how lovely this particular part of the forest truly was. You were lucky enough to find mushrooms, root vegetables and a whole host of berries nearby. From where you stood, you could hear a waterfall, and as you walked towards the sound, you clutched your waterskin and prayed that the water was clean enough to drink. It was! In fact, it was nothing short of absolutely perfect, and the banks of the small creek provided you with even more edible plants and herbs to take with you.

“Darling, I’m home,” you teased as you stepped back into the cave. The pile of guts, you noticed, had been removed – mostly. This night, the two of you prepared your dinner together, while jokes of the domesticity of your current situation became more and more frequent. Outside, a particularly harsh wind had picked up, blowing icy air into the cave.

“Perhaps instead of a second bed, we had better use the hides to shield us from that wind,” you suggested carefully.

“Perhaps instead of making a bed right in front of the entrance of the cave, you could have gone around that corner,” he grumbled, pointing at a part of the cave that would absolutely have been better suited for sleeping, “where we wouldn’t have to worry about freezing.”

“And perhaps,” you snapped, failing to keep your anger out of your voice, “I was utterly exhausted from dragging your gargantuan arse through this forest to keep you from dying!”

“Oh, believe me when I say I appreciate it,” he threw back at you, “but wouldn’t it be such a waste of your precious efforts if we still died...”

“As if that wind would actually kill you!” You rolled your eyes at him while he growled at you, and before you knew it, you found yourself in one of the tensest moments of your life so far.

“It wouldn’t kill you either, but it would be pretty fucking uncomfortable, wouldn’t it?” he sighed impatiently.

The worst part of the argument was that the solution was so mind-numbingly simple that neither of you even dared to pitch the idea of just moving the bed to the other side. Instead, you just kept staring at each other, getting angrier with every passing minute, until – much to your dissatisfaction, you finally couldn’t take it anymore: “Let’s just sleep over there, then!” With a snap of your fingers, the moss disappeared, and with another, it reappeared on the other side. “And lay down and strip, so I can take another look at your injuries.”

“One bed, huh?” Geralt remarked, flashing you that cocky grin you had become far too well acquainted with in the short time you had known the man.

“Shut up,” you replied, “you’re warm. It was quite nice.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you spoke the words, and you were convinced you weren’t wholly able to keep the expression on your face free of the shame you felt.

“I thought so too,” Geralt admitted as he lay down on the bed, nude once more, grinning down at you, seemingly not feeling the same embarrassment that you did regarding the situation.

The wound on his abdomen was as little of a problem as it had been the previous night. This time, the only thing that remained of it was a faint scar that looked far older than it really was. The other injury, however, posed the same problem it had before – only this time you were more than comfortable taking a slightly different approach.

“Do you need me to move my... parts out of the way,” Geralt said mockingly while raising a suggestive eyebrow at you. You sighed deeply. This man was simply impossible!

“Yes, Geralt,” you barked at him, “please move your massive cock, before I do it.” You immediately realized your mistake, as the devious glint in his eyes slowly gained assistance from yet another impossibly smug grin that slowly spread across his face. He did exactly what that look in his eyes foretold: absolutely nothing. “I’m not giving you a happy ending with this healing spell.” You spat your words out at him so harshly that for a moment, his face showed a hint of concern that he had gone too far. “I might castrate you,” you added in a sickly sweet voice that brought the grin back to his face, “but it would be a shame...”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” Geralt chuckled – a sound that was cut short by a grunt when the backs of your fingers brushed past his cock on their way to their destination on his thigh. On the way back, you let your fingertips trail the flesh of his thigh slowly, purposely lengthening the amount of time you spent in contact with his parts. The muscles in his thigh twitched as you ran your fingers over them. This time, you hadn’t made the mistake of straddling his leg, and you cursed yourself for that choice, as in that moment you wanted nothing more than for him to launch you onto his chest again.

“God, you got insanely lucky that whatever bit you even missed the goods, darling,” you muttered before withdrawing your hands, eliciting a deep sigh from Geralt.

“I’m even luckier you found me,” he whispered on a sigh. Without speaking, he held a hand out to you, and you took it. He impatiently tugged at your arm, almost hard enough to make you lose your balance again. Instead, you moved, climbing over him until you were laying to his left, nestled into his side. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “your touch calms me down.”

“Gods, I almost forgot,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief over your apparent indifference. “How are you feeling?”

“Restless, as you predicted,” he replied. “My senses are annoyingly heightened. You smell good. You feel soft.” He turned to face you, wrapping his other arm around you and pulling you against him and laying his forehead against yours, swallowing hard. “I find myself constantly fighting the urge to touch you, taste you...”

“I might be able to help that restlessness, you know?” you said carefully. As clear as it was what other urges he was fighting – judging from the growing pressure against your leg – you found it best to err on the side of caution.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” His voice was only a low growl in your ear.

“That’s disappointing,” you retorted with a challenging tone to your voice. Suddenly, his eyes opened, the look in them fierce – animalistic, even.

“Fine, is that what you want? For me to tear you apart? Don’t think I can’t smell that sweet little cunt of yours,” he snarled before aggressively pressing his lips against yours. The sudden action made you gasp, and Geralt greedily used the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. When he retreated, you eagerly sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan as you nibbled on it – quite contently, too. Without hesitation, he reached for the collar of your blouse, tearing the fabric away unceremoniously. You allowed him to explore every bit of skin on your neck, moaning with each sloppy, open-mouthed kiss he pressed to the sensitive skin.

From there, he swiftly moved on to your chest, sucking more than only your nipples into his mouth with remarkable ease. His teeth grazed over your skin, luring a sharp gasp from you as you dug your fingernails into his shoulders.

Now that it was the sound of your own pleasure bouncing off the walls of the cavern, the sound bothered you far less than when it had been Geralt’s horrible snoring.

He moved his hand down over your body, the materials of your clothes shredding under his brutish touch. It didn’t matter; you’d mend them later, right now all you wanted was to feel Geralt’s hands on you.

You cursed softly under your breath when he ran one of his fingers through your folds. A low grunt slipped from his lips as you kissed and licked his neck and jaw, then a louder moan when you sank your teeth into his flesh as he pushed a finger into your slick core. When he added a second, he groaned – as did you.

“There’s no way,” he muttered, making you giggle. The fact that he seemed to struggle to push that second finger into your tight pussy made you giddy with excitement, but you also eagerly took the opportunity to finally flash Geralt a smug smile of your own. The fact of the matter was that you weren’t some porcelain doll.

“Come on,” you taunted, “if you can’t even manage a second finger, how are you ever going to put that big, fat cock inside of me? I can take it, I promise.” He laughed when you threw your head back as his finger finally slipped all the way into you. “That’s it, now give me some more, big guy,” you hissed into his ear, earning you a surprised look that held concern as well as a measure of admiration.

Geralt hesitantly positioned a third finger at your entrance and pushed it into you gently, stopping immediately when he saw your face contort into an expression of what he rightfully believed to be pain. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his face displaying clear disbelief as you nodded.

“Go slow,” you moaned, “I’m more than alright, love.” Slowly but surely, his finger inched its way into your tight canal. You took a moment to get used to the slight burn, allowing your body to relax around the intruding digits and accommodate instead of reject them, and then you looked into Geralt’s eyes as you began to move your hips, your dripping core coating his hand with your juices.

He mimicked the rhythm of your hips, pumping his fingers in and out of you, making you moan with every thrust. “Don’t stop,” you moaned, meeting his movements time after time, your words punctuated by increasingly ecstatic cries, “you’re going to make me cum.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, and moments later, your muscles were clamping down on his fingers, spasming erratically while you came undone.

“Gods, you’re beautiful like that,” he murmured to you, stroking your hair and chuckling lightly when his praise made you squirm in his arms. “I wonder if you’re as beautiful when that pretty little mouth of yours is completely stuffed with my cock.” His lewd words were almost enough to drive you all the way up to another peak...

With ample enthusiasm, you made your way down his body, trailing your fingers over his muscles and through the hair on his chest and stomach, until you were seated comfortably between his immense thighs, clenching your own as you let your eyes glide over his parts. He was absolutely massive – so big, in fact, that you hesitantly reached a hand out to touch him. You had confidently talked the talk, but walking the walk would perhaps prove a bit more challenging than you had initially anticipated…

As soon as your fingers came into contact with the soft skin of his cock, your doubts melted away, and were replaced by an almost feral longing to devour him. Slowly, you allowed your fingers to travel the length of his erection, mapping every pulsing vein and every ridge you encountered carefully, committing them to memory, paying attention to the area around the tip that made Geralt moan softly on his exhales. Finally, you wrapped your hand around his member, only managing to cover just over half of his girth with your small hand.

“Gods, you’re tiny,” Geralt whispered, letting out a delighted chuckle and reaching for your head, guiding you gently into a position where your chin rested near the base of his cock. “Oh, fuck me...” he said in disbelief as he stared down at you.

“That’s the idea,” you replied before sticking your tongue out and licking all the way from the base to the top of his cock. It wasn’t hard to guess what he’d been so mesmerized by; you were fairly confident his erection was longer than your head. Slowly, you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, carefully keeping an eye on his reactions, before taking him into your mouth.

It was easy to see that Geralt tried his very best to hide his amusement at your frustration when you could barely manage to wrap your lips around his tip – only his very best wasn’t quite good enough, and he failed miserably as he tried to choke back his laughter.

“Where’s that big mouth of yours now that you need it,” he asked with a positively maddening grin on his face, but worse than that smirk was the fact that just as you attempted to pull back to answer him, you felt his hand pushing at the back of your head, leaving you sputtering around his cock. He found it all quite entertaining, while you glared up at him, not at all convinced of the hilarity of the situation. After a few moments, his tone changed, along with the expression on his face. “Come on, little one, I know you can manage a bit more than this,” he said softly as he gently stroked your hair, tangling his fingers lightly in it.

You wanted to get angry with him for calling you that, but you just couldn’t – not only because it was so incredibly true, but also because he said it so sweetly, his voice so full of endearment as he gently urged you to take more of him, that you felt pride and a willingness to please him glow deep within you. With his guidance, you slowly took more of him into your mouth, saliva dripping down his shaft as you inched your way down until you simply couldn’t cope with his girth anymore – and you had still barely made it past the tip.

“A bit more,” Geralt grunted above you – and something in you became instantly wildly annoyed with the man and his ridiculous demands.

Abruptly, you pulled your mouth off of him and snapped: “I can’t dislocate my jaw, I’m not a snake!”

“You’re a druid, right?” he asked suggestively, ignoring the irritation in your voice.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” you stammered. The notion was so utterly ridiculous that it would be foolish at best to dignify it with a response.

Left without options – other than ‘stopping what you were doing altogether and going to sleep, which was just about the last thing you wanted – you continued your efforts, slipping your lips around the head of Geralt’s cock again. This time, you moved your hands over his length while teasing the tip with your tongue, and you soon revelled in the sound of the moans that escaped him.

He didn’t speak, though occasionally he muttered a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath – the low, gravelly sound of which made you clench your thighs together. They were slick with your own arousal and served as an immediate reminder of the ache between your legs. It was impossible now to stop squirming, searching for the friction that would provide you with relief – something Geralt was quick to notice.

He sat up and plucked you off the floor like you weighed nothing – and to him, you most likely truly didn’t – before laying you down on the moss. He kissed you briefly, and then went on his way, kissing down your body until he reached his destination. Strong hands firmly gripped the back of your thighs, behind your knees, pushing your legs open with demanding force.

He took in your scent, the look in his eyes changing from languid bliss to one of pure animalistic need as he inhaled. The hands left your thighs, only to reappear on your hips, gripping you tightly and pulling you closer as he buried his face in your pussy, eagerly tasting your arousal. In this particular area, his size was clearly an advantage, because his tongue covered so much area that he hit all the right places no matter how he went about it. You squirmed in his arms, begging him not to stop, to keep doing what he was doing until you inevitably came hard on his eager tongue.

“Gods, that was fantastic!” you exclaimed, immediately cursing yourself for your enthusiasm as you heard the arrogant chuckle that he let out as you spoke. Your attempt to move away from him was met with resistance, leaving you powerless in his overwhelmingly strong grasp.

“Stay,” he ordered, “I’m not done with you.”

It was the simplest of truths; as soon as the words had left his lips, he trailed around your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you for a moment before flattening the muscle against your swollen little pearl. It didn’t take long for one of his hands to leave your hips, and you felt his fingers at your entrance, eager to plunge deep into your waiting core. This time, they slipped into you with ease, much to Geralt’s satisfaction.

Your climax approached swiftly, and you silently thanked Geralt that he didn’t take the opportunity to be a complete arse about that. Instead, he moaned against your skin as he softly kissed your sensitive clit before moving up again until his lips found yours. Somehow, tasting your own arousal on his capable tongue made you even wetter, and you soon squirmed helplessly as he trapped you beneath his enormous body, unable to move away from him so you could beg him to finally take you.

Eventually, he pulled back, breaking your passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he pulled you along as he sat up on his knees.

“I was going to ask about the logistics,” he chuckled, “but this seems fine?” You nodded in reply to the question he so cleverly – yet poorly – attempted to disguise as a statement. After checking whether you were really sure about this, he held you up with only one hand, using the other to line himself up to your core.

The intense feeling of his thick cock slowly entering your body made you screw your eyes shut and knocked the air out of your lungs as your pussy struggled to accommodate his incredible girth.

“Too much?” he asked, his eyes locked on yours, looking for signs of discomfort.

“No,” you breathed, gritting your teeth as you tried to get used to the fullness, “keep going, I told you I can take it.” You searched his eyes for the feral need you had seen in them before, but you found nothing other than concern – until you caught a glimpse of the immense restraint he was showing. It was then that you realized that it took absolutely everything he had not to slam you down onto his cock – it took everything he had not to give you exactly what you wanted. “Come on, big guy,” you growled into his ear – as close as you could get to it, anyway, “put this big, fat dick in me. I want to feel every inch of you inside my tiny little cunt.”

Your crude words were rewarded with a pained low grunt, his quickening breathing, and the pounding of his heart in his chest so ridiculously loud that you could hear it when you put your head on his shoulder. Somehow, it wasn’t enough yet, and you didn’t let up on your pleading until he grabbed the side of your face with his hand. One quick look into his eyes told you you’d finally reached your goal; your relentless begging had eaten away at the resolve to take this slow, and Geralt bowed his head to roughly crushed his lips against yours, as he suddenly dropped you all the way down onto his cock.

“Oh Gods, yes!” you shrieked – the sound swallowed by his mouth firmly locked over yours. He did you the courtesy of giving you a few – brief – moments before lifting you off his cock again.

Compared to the second one, his first thrust had been gentle, and he only got rougher as he plunged into your core again and again, making you scream with every last move. They were mostly cries of utter bliss spilling from your lips – only very few escaped you out of pain. Fact of the matter was that the slight burn you felt as Geralt’s thick cock stretched your walls to their limits – and slightly beyond, perhaps – only added to your pleasure, heightened your arousal, and steadily drove you towards the edge of yet another freefall into rapture.

He had been scared to hurt you before, but seeing you so completely overcome with pleasure seemed to change something. Before you realized what was happening, your back hit the moss, and he hovered above you. One of his hands captured both of yours and pinned them to the ground above your head, while the other managed to manoeuvre your legs onto his chest. Geralt chuckled as he took notice of the fact that your feet barely reached up to his neck.

“So fucking small,” he growled before pulling out and slamming his hips into yours, “so tight.” The angle was amazing – you weren’t the only one who thought so, judging from the sounds that came from the enormous man that hovered over you, who muttered an almost uninterrupted string of profanities as he pumped his cock in and out of your aching cunt. With every new thrust, your tight, clenching walls pulled him closer and closer to his release. “Fuck, I’m going to flood this tiny little pussy,” he growled into your ear in between ragged and uneven breaths before erratically chasing his pleasure with complete, reckless disregard for your comfort – just the way you liked it. When he came inside of you, you clamped down on him, milking his fat cock for all it was worth, until every drop of his seed had spilled into you.

You knew the worst was yet to come; the moment he would pull out, and your sore muscles would clench around nothing, cum dripping from your battered hole… And indeed; when the pressure slowly disappeared, you winced and cried out in pain as you had oftentimes before – only now, you were pulled into a strong embrace, and kissed gently on your parted lips as you gasped for air.

When you woke up, Geralt was behind you, curled up comfortably around your body, and you sighed deeply. You hadn’t felt this way in a very long time; connected, sheltered, wanted. An outcast to your kin, you knew you would never be able to return ‘home’. Refusing the hand of the man your parents had chosen for you might have been excused after the first time, if you had followed that with long weeks of grovelling and begging his family for forgiveness, but since you had run away, you had naturally fallen from grace completely, while bringing grave shame upon your family. Since that day, you had often wondered if the freedom your choices brought you had been worth the price you had to pay for it. Now you knew. It was.

You yawned and stretched – or at least; you attempted to do so, but you were captured in the iron grip of Geralt’s embrace, and the strong arm draped over your waist weighed heavy on your body. It was impossible to move. Absentmindedly your fingers traced the bulging veins in his thick forearm while you remembered how those same arms had lifted you up so effortlessly the night before.

For a while, you basked in the glorious aftermath of your… you’d have called it ‘lovemaking’, perhaps, if you had any indication that he felt for you what you were starting to feel for him. For now, ‘tryst’ would have to suffice. You clearly felt the evidence of his presence in your body – you were sore all over, particularly there where you had so gracefully taken the brutal beating that had seemed such a good idea at the time. Not that you regretted your decision, far from it, even! It was rather the case that you had forgotten how taxing your particular proclivity for sizeable appendages could be. And you were sure you’d gladly forget again, in a few short days.

After some time, you really couldn’t stay put any longer. For one because your stomach was growling, and also because – and this matter was indubitably the more pressing of the two – nature was calling. Next to you, your behemoth prison keeper was fast asleep, somehow snoring considerably less annoyingly than the night before.

“Geralt,” you whispered, to no avail, leaving you with no other option than to raise your voice. “Geralt!” Unsurprisingly, that did not work either. It would simply have been far too easy if it had. It was obvious to you that kicking this man anywhere would hurt you more than it would hurt him. He carried both werewolf and orc genes, for crying out loud! You squirmed in his arms, and when that yielded no result either, you cried out. “Geralt, for the love of the Gods, you don’t even have to wake up, but please let go of me!”

“No,” he muttered, voice thick with his continued slumber, “don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, you grandiose fool,” you chuckled, “but I do need to… step outside for a moment. I will be back in a minute.”

With a sigh that was indicative of great reluctance, he lifted his arm off you, allowing you to get dressed and set out to do what needed done. Now that you were free of his grasp – though you wouldn’t dream of abandoning him – you scurried through the woods for a moment, in search of something to still the growling of your stomach.

Your quest for food was successful, but as you began to make your way back to the cave, something grabbed your arm pinning you against a tree.

“What do we have here?” the figure – cloaked, of course – spoke in the Elven tongue. It was a dialect you weren’t quite familiar with, but you managed to understand his words just fine as he spoke of his intentions – malevolent, naturally. With your hands pinned in place, you were unable to wield magic, and thus utterly defenceless against the man, leaving you with two options. The first was to suffer his abuse quietly, as you had done countless times before as you travelled the woods by yourself, the other – and preferable – option was to cry out as loud as you could and hope that help would come swiftly.

Under different circumstances, you would have uttered a general cry for help, and though you were certain that that was exactly what you had set out to do, what came out of your mouth was Geralt’s name, loudly, the sound filled with terror and agony.

“Shut up!” the man before you called out, pressing a dagger to your throat. A single tear escaped your eye as a familiar incantation was followed by the growth of vines from the tree, shackling you to it. Now that the man had a hand free, he let go of your hands and trailed your arms until he reached your face. He gently caressed your cheek – a gesture that made you feel sick to your stomach. Then, before his hand could trail further down, another figure appeared behind him. You were fairly confident it was Geralt, but before you could make sure, you were forced to close your eyes as blood splashed in your face.

When you opened them again, you saw the lifeless body of the elf at your feet – a head shorter than he’d been when he’d been threatening to harm you. You stared at the dead man on the ground, letting your hands drop to your sides as the vines disappeared now that their conjurer was no longer among the living.

“G-Geralt… You… You killed him,” you stammered, still attempting to process what had just happened.

“I did,” Geralt growled as he stepped closer. You felt his large hand, heavy on your cheek as he turned your face towards his and kneeled. “Don’t touch what’s…” His voice trailed off, his unfinished sentence heightening the tension between you.

“Say it, Geralt,” you whispered, “please.”

“No one can touch what’s mine,” he snarled softly, staring intently into your eyes. Without thinking, you lunged for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pressing your lips to his so fiercely that it made him laugh before he made an effort to match your fiery passion. When he broke the kiss, the look in his eyes had changed. “Are you scared of me?” he asked hoarsely, to which you answered by shaking your head decisively.

“At the very most I’m covered in elf blood, and I’d like something done about that,” you said, stepping away from Geralt to inspect the elf. When you bent down to check the body, Geralt asked what you were doing. “Free cloak,” you answered as you took the thing off the man’s shoulder. The violence from before had left it with a pretty large tear in the fabric, but it was nothing you couldn’t fix.

“That’s stealing,” Geralt mused softly.

You shrugged. “Why? He’s got no use for it now.” Beside the cloak, you found some rations and money. Geralt allowed you to grab his hand and pull him along to the stream, near the waterfall, where you quickly discarded your clothes and stepped into the chilly water. “Come here,” you called to Geralt, who hesitantly followed.

“It’s far too cold for this,” he grumbled as he helped you wash the blood off your body first, and your clothes after that. There was a hint of something else to his voice; a kind of confusion, though you could not quite put your finger on what the cause of it was.

“I’m sure we can find a way to warm up,” you said as you stepped out of the water, the cold breeze raising goosebumps all over your body. Geralt graciously offered you his shirt – a floor-length gown on you that would in no way stay on your shoulders, but at least it was warmer than being fully exposed to the cold air.

That day, as well as the next two, was uneventful; hunting and gathering, the pile of animal hides slowly growing in a corner of the space you occupied.

“We could stay, you know,” you spoke softly one night, as your fingers drew patterns through the hair on his chest and your empty pussy ached after yet another round of passionate lovemaking.

“Here?” Geralt asked, looking around the dark space.

“I know it’s not much, but we could make it into something?” you pleaded. “I haven’t had a home in a while, and I think the same applies to you.”

“My home will be wherever you are, my love,” Geralt whispered, as if that was all there was to it.

#henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia #geralt x you #fantasy au #werewolf geralt

[geralts-yenn]

A very merry birthday

Modern AU Melot (Tristan & Isolde) x OFC Nina x Mike (Hellraiser)

summary: The boys are celebrating Christmas and, more importantly, Nina's birthday

warnings: 18+, minors DNI! Polyamory, non-monogamous bisexual relationship, vaginal fingering, oral (f & m receiving), sex toys, tiny hint of food play, facial, DVP, tooth rotting fluff

word count: 4,4k

A/N: @raccoon-eyed-rebel the happiest of birthdays to you, my wonderful rodent bestie!

I will send you more messages telling you how incredibly happy I am to have you in my life, but right now, I will stop talking because I know you can't wait to read this.

I hope you enjoy your presents - Love you 😘

My masterlist

Series masterlist

“Morning, sunshine!” Mel was slowly kissing down your throat as soon as he saw you blinking. On the other side of the bed, Mike’s curly head appeared, and he was clutching to you like a koala the next moment. 

“Happy birthday, babe” he told you, his head already buried in your cleavage. 

You laughed, not exactly surprised by the attack of your two boyfriends. They were always touchy, so you expected no less from them on your birthday. 

In no time, they had you not only naked, but also quivering in anticipation as they both moved their mouths way too slowly down your body. Mike was still paying attention to your chest, nothing to complain about to be honest, while Mel was already nipping and biting on the tender skin over your hip bone. Under wet kisses he resumed his trail that finally brought his mouth to your pussy. As his tongue lapped through your wet folds, he let out a content growl. 

“Come here, Mikey, she’s already dripping!” he purred before he pressed his flattened tongue on your clit again. Mike didn’t need to be told twice. He bit down one last time on your nipple, making you scream, and then pushed Mel to the side so he could taste you, too. 

Mike’s tongue swirled around your swollen pearl eagerly, while you felt Mel’s fingers carefully circling your entrance. The coarse stubble on Mel’s jaw scratched over the delicate skin of your thigh as he started to suck little love bites on it. 

They had learned to play you like a fiddle, taking turns with their mouths on your clit, on your inner thighs and their fingers pumping into you. You were a total mess, breathing heavily as you expected your climax to rush through your body any moment, when suddenly there was no mouth left between your legs, and you only felt fingers plunging into you lazily.

As you raised your head, you couldn’t help but laugh, seeing Mel and Mike both totally lost in the deep kiss they shared. You grabbed a pillow and smacked them with it.

“Hey, idiots, it’s my birthday, don’t you forget to make me cum, please?” They chuckled as they stopped kissing, both showing you a cocky grin. 

“Babe, I’m pretty sure you’ll be content with the amount of orgasms at the end of this day,” Mel told you, mischief in his voice. Mike’s laugh that accompanied Mel’s words told you that they had made plans for you today. 

They were both starting to kiss along your thighs again, but you were impatient by now.

“You know, there’s two dicks in this bed and none of them is in my pussy. Can we please change this situation?” you all but whined. 

“Nope!” Mike exclaimed, flicking his tongue over your clit as to make a point. He sucked it between his lips while Mel continued his sentence: “No dick for you. Not yet. But we’ll make up for it.” 

And they did! They were determined to fuck you to the moon and back on their fingers and tongues, making you cum not only once but three times before you had to stop them. 

“Okay, okay, guys, you won. I can’t take any more,” you shouted, pulling on their hair to bring their faces up to yours. You shared deep kisses with both of them before you sank back onto the bed, one of your boys in each arm.

When you got out of the shower, the whole apartment was filled with the scent of pancakes and coffee. Mike was standing at the stove in nothing but his boxers and an apron. Mel sat at the table, smiling at you with so much love, your heart was just about to burst. You sat down, and the next moment Mike was behind you, placing a ridiculously big pile of pancakes onto your plate. He took the syrup and flooded your pancake tower with it. But, as was to be expected, it was Mike after all, he didn’t stop there, but poured it also over your chest, just above the towel you had wrapped around you.

“Mike! I just came out of the shower, you can’t make a mess of me again!” you laughed and Mel added: “And don’t you remember your own words? Don’t overdo things for food play!” Mike just shrugged with a silly smile on his face and lapped the syrup from your skin. 

After you had finished your breakfast with definitely way too much pancakes, Mike got up and took two presents from under the Christmas tree. He put them down in front of you with a big smile. “Happy birthday, sweetcheeks.” Mel pressed a kiss onto your cheek. “From both of us,” he added. 

You eyed the presents that were unmistakably wrapped by the boys, so much you could tell. One was only a small box, the other one a huge, formless mass that covered most of the dining table. “Which one is from whom?” you asked, just out of curiosity, but the boys shook their heads. 

“We bought them both together. For whenever we can't be with you and you feel lonely.” Mel and Mike shared a mischievous glance that you didn't miss. Now you were even more curious.

You started with the giant present, carefully undoing the tape, trying to save the cute wrapping paper with tiny cats printed on it. 

When you lifted the paper and saw what was underneath it, you squeaked. You grabbed the giant platypus plushie and hugged both your arms around it. “Ah, I love him,” you said. Mel and Mike both chuckled as they watched you. It took you a minute of jumping in joy with the plushie in your arm, planting kisses on Mel's and Mike's cheeks until you were back at the table, your eyes and hands on the second present. 

“You better not spent money on expensive jewelry,” you blurted out, only to see Mel blushing a little. But then you unwrapped the present and sniggered. You couldn't have been more wrong. The box you held in your hands showed a bright pink bullet vibrator. 

“It's app controlled,” Mikey said with a smug smile on his face. “The only one we found that can be controlled by multiple users at the same time.” 

You laughed as you opened the box. “Of course it is.” 

Mel's smile was just as broad as Mikey’s. “And we’ve already charged it.”

The boys and you had decided to unwrap your Christmas presents in the evening, when your family was joining you for dinner. Also, Mel and Mikey insisted that you weren't allowed to help them prepare the food, so you spent your day snuggled up to your new friend Pablo with a book in your hand. It was a calm and uneventful day that was only interrupted from time to time when the bullet vibrator in your pussy started to buzz, accompanied by laughter coming from the kitchen. 

At one point, you couldn't stand it any more. You got up from your comfy spot, your birthday present still pulsating in you, and pushed the half closed door to the kitchen open.

Maybe you should have been prepared for more teasing, though this time you really couldn’t blame them as they were not even noticing your presence. With your mouth hanging open, you watched Mike pressing Mel against the wall. He pinned his boyfriend’s arms above their heads. Mel answered with a growl and then they both shared a hot kiss.

A hitched breath later you were able to speak: “Really, guys, you’re riling me up to a point where I will snap. You have to give me a little something.”  Mikey’s lips never left Mel, but his hand guided you to join them. You moved forward and when you were standing next to them, Mike finally pulled away from Mel’s mouth and pressed his soft lips against yours instead. 

Mel cocked his head while he watched you. Then his eyes fell on the clock of the oven. “We’ve got fifteen minutes,” he told you. Within no time, the three of you had made it into the bedroom, hands and mouths exploring whatever bit of skin they could find. But when your hand tried to sneak into Mel’s pants, he tsk-tsked you and pulled your hand up to his chest again.

“Really? Still no dicks allowed? Come on, guys! That’s no fun. Let me at least give you some head.” You don’t think you had ever begged for a blow job, but there you were, kneeling between your boyfriends, pouting, trying to imitate their puppy eyes. And it seemed to work!

Mel and Mike shared looks that couldn’t hide how much they liked the idea of your mouth around their cocks. 

They both dropped their sweatpants within seconds, a broad smile on their faces. That smiles faded when your tongue darted out to lick over the tip of their cocks. When you looked up at them, you saw Mike biting his lower lip, while Mel’s face changed into an almost pained expression. Your hands and mouth started to work on their cocks, making it all sloppy, like they loved it. You watched them kiss while you tried your best to fit your lips around both their swollen heads. The toy continued to vibrate inside you relentlessly, making you moan desperately around their cocks.

Soon you felt, you heard, that they were close. Mel pulled out of your mouth so you were free to take Mike’s dick all down your throat. Instead, Mel fisted himself, his eyes full of lust as he watched you swallowing Mike’s cock. “Damn, baby, you’re beautiful!” he breathed and, almost coming out as a whimper, he warned you to close your eyes.

You had only a second to react before Mel’s cum hit your face, dripping over your cheeks and the lips stretched around Mike. And the sight of you must have taken Mike over the edge, too, because he exploded down your throat the very next moment. When he pulled out of your mouth, his thumb brushed over your cum-soiled face. “Fuck, babe, look at you!”

After they had cleaned your face and another orgasm on their tongues later, they finally stopped teasing you. They got back to cooking while you started to prepare the dining table. Placing plates and glasses for eight people wasn’t easy on the small table and with eight chairs, the room was more than crowded. This whole apartment wasn’t exactly made to host that many guests, but you’d live. It might be cozy, you thought as you lit the candles. 

Perfectly timed, all of you had changed into more festive clothing (which meant ‘beautiful dress’ for you and apparently ‘ridiculous x-mas sweater’ for the boys) when the bell rang for the first time. It was your parents, holding out presents and a bottle of wine for you to take. Mel and Mike were both acting like the perfect gentlemen, taking their coats while your parents were sharing hugs and congratulations with you.

The bell rang another time and with Isa, Tristan and Mel’s mom Catherine, your round was complete now. Isa pulled you in her arms as if she wanted to crush you, showering you with birthday wishes. In the corner of your eyes, you watched as Catherine pulled Mel close to her, handing him a small present and them sharing a loving look with each other. You were glad that Mel had Catherine, she was wonderful, he couldn’t have found a better foster family. The thought brought you back to Mike, and you searched for him, a little concerned. With relief, you saw how Tristan was talking to him, and whatever he had said, it made Mike laugh. He’d be okay.

The boys had outdone themselves with dinner, you knew they weren’t exactly helpless in the kitchen, but they honestly impressed you with the meal they had prepared.

Even your dad didn’t complain about the lack of meat, you noticed, as he served himself a third round of garlic mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy.

After dinner, you moved to the living room and everyone started exchanging presents. You were occupied for quite some time with birthday and Christmas presents to be opened. When you finally made it to the last one, you smiled at the pile of presents in front of you. They really knew you well, you thought, as you admired all the wonderful things you got. There was hand-dyed yarn for your crochet and knitting projects, a book you had been eying for a while already, and annual tickets to the zoo for all three of you.

You let your eyes wander through the room, it was pure bliss to see how everyone seemed to be just so happy. Mel and your Dad were standing in the corner at Mel’s record player, scanning through his collection that got some new additions today.  Mike was already working with his new artist pencils.

Your mom sat down beside him, curiously peering over his shoulder. “You’re talented, Mike. This is beautiful.” Mike thanked her, giving her a small smile, before his eyes met yours for a second and you saw them lighting up. Then he went back to drawing. Your mom continued chatting with him and you watched them, happy that your parents were comfortable with both your boyfriends. But then your mom changed to the topic that you had dreaded the whole evening. You should have given her a head start not to mention it. 

“So, where are your parents today, Michael, aren’t they going to see you?” Mike’s smile froze to a grimace. You saw him swallow before he answered.

“They are staying with my brother.” You already saw your mom open her mouth for a follow-up question when Catherine sat down beside her. She was quick to engage your mom in a conversation, saving Mike. You gave her a thankful look and crouched down next to Mike, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a gentle kiss on his neck.

Isa and Tristan were the last ones to leave. And while Tristan was still in the kitchen with the boys who had already started to take care of the dishes, Isa was with you in the hallway. 

“It was a wonderful evening, Nina! It’s so good to see you three so happy. I mean, just look at you, you are glowing! I’m pretty sure they took good care of you already today, huh?” She laughed at your reddening face. “I knew it! Guess they are not done with you yet.” She raised her voice: “Tristan, come on, let’s leave those three alone now. They still have some plans for today!” You smacked Isa on her arm, making her laugh only more. Tristan, Mel and Mikey all appeared next to you, and the mischievous smirks on their faces told you they were talking about the same thing.

You sent Tristan and Isa home with hugs and thank you’s. And as soon as they had left, Mel and Mike dragged you to the bedroom. “So you DO have some more plans today, don’t you?” you laughed. 

“We absolutely do!” Mike grinned at Mel, who already had his hand on the zipper of your dress. “If you’re not too tired, that is,” he added. How could they be so incredibly sweet? You had no idea how you deserved them. 

“How could I be tired after you didn’t let me help you all day? Wait, so this was your plan all along.” All three of you chuckled. Would you be mad at them that they let you rest only to be able to fuck you to oblivion? Surely not. That was a double win, wasn’t it?

Mel had already thrown your dress into a corner of the room. You were happy that you were finally able to take off those ugly sweaters from both of them and send them the same way. The naked chests now hovering over your sides were so much better to look at. Very unusual for Mike, he didn’t immediately get rid of your bra. Instead, he moved back a little to be able to fully take you in. So the unholy amount of money you had spent on that lingerie was actually worth it this time. 

“Damn, babe, your tits look fabulous in this.” Mike brushed his fingers slowly over the delicate fabric. Something that you absolutely weren’t used from him. “I mean, your tits are always fabulous. But I have to honor the packaging today.” Mel leaned down and hummed in your ear. “He’s right! You are gorgeous.” He nipped at your earlobe, making you squirm. “Nevertheless, it has to go now.” Mike unclasped your bra with one swift motion, while Mel moved down on you to pull your panties down your thighs. They stayed in their favorite positions, Mikey sucking on one of your nipples while grabbing your other boob, Mel spreading kisses along your thigh until he was hovering over your throbbing pussy. 

When Mel’s tongue flicked over your clit, you moaned and Mel hummed appreciatively in response. His mouth pressed against you, he continued his task to make you cum on his face. There were fingers circling around your entrance. You had no idea whose hand it was, and you really didn’t care. All you could care for was how those fingers slipped inside of you and teased you at all the right spots. You looked down on two pairs of eyes, watching through thick eyelashes how you slowly lost your mind. Another hand on your pussy, more fingers pumping into you, made you a quivering mess. Not able to form a straight thought anymore, you were just moaning, cursing and screaming, your whole body tense, ready to snap. A perfect timed flick of a tongue over your pearl brought you over the edge. With trembling legs, you lay there and smiled at your boyfriends.

“I think she should be ready now,” Mike said with a cocky grin on his face. Mel shook his head, sporting a smirk just as smug. “I don’t know. I think we’ll drag out another one from her, just to be sure.” With his tongue darting out to your oversensitive clit again, he was showing you what he’d meant. 

“What are you jerks talking about?” You could hardly breathe as the boys showed no mercy with you. They refused to answer you until their fingers had brought you to another climax. After that, Mike pressed little kisses all over your body until he stopped at your ear, whispering: “You will finally get some dick. Two dicks, to be precise.”

Mel and Mike both stepped out of their pants and underwear. Mike leaned against the headboard, stroking his cock. “Come here, baby!” he told you. You wanted to straddle him, but Mike guided you to turn around, resting your back against his chest. Slowly, you sank down on his cock. Your pussy was so sensitive by now that this alone already was enough to roll your eyes in pleasure. He felt so good, spreading you open. When Mike was buried to the hilt in you, Mel crawled between your widespread legs, his leaking cock in his fist. He bent down, pressing a fierce kiss on your lips, then repeating the same hot kiss with Mike. He aligned himself at your already filled hole and slowly pressed himself into you, inch by inch.

“Fuck!” both men exclaimed in unison. You weren’t able to form any word, so you were just whimpering desperately. Mike moved his hands from your thighs to your breasts. You felt his chest heaving rapidly. Mel finally bottomed out and for a second there was no movement or sound. Then Mel gave you a crooked grin, said, “Happy Birthday, princess!” and started to fuck you. 

Mike cursed and then started pushing his hips up to you, too. There were two cocks thrusting into you, making you feel sensations that you hadn’t known before. The boys were seemingly just as overwhelmed as you. As Mel moved, Mike was holding back and the other way around. “Fuck, this feels pretty amazing!” Mel shouted and Mike agreed. “So fucking hot!” 

All three of you were reduced to panting, moaning, screaming and sharing sloppy kisses with each other. After some time that both of them kept a slow rhythm, Mel cursed and then started to rut into you mercilessly.

But Mike was the first who couldn’t hold back anymore. He increased his own pace, and with a barrage of curses, he spilled his load into you. His grip on your boobs became so tight that he’d probably leave bruises. 

You were following him soon after, tears rolling down your cheeks as your orgasm washed over you. While you collapsed on Mikey’s chest, Mel kept thrusting into your fluttering walls. He was clutching your shoulders, his gasps brushing along your neck until he finally found his own climax. Mike held him as his legs and arms didn’t support him any longer. None of you were able or willing to speak or move. You just lay on top of each other and gasped for air. 

It was minutes later when Mel rolled to the side. You protested as soon as the comforting weight of him had left you. But he immediately pulled you back into his arms so that you were trapped between his and Mikey’s body, just the way you loved it. Mel brushed a streak of hair from your face and kissed you softly. “Are you okay?” he asked. You nodded, your mouth forming to a smile. “You really ruined me today, but damn was it good.” Mel and Mike both chuckled.

“And you, felt good?” Mel checked on Mike, too. You had to turn your head because you just knew the smile spread over Mikey’s face must be worth seeing, and you were right. He looked just like the most adorable little happy puppy ever.

“This must have been the best fucking thing I ever felt.”

You spent a long time cuddling with the boys, interrupted only by the inevitable bathroom break. With a sigh, you slipped back under the covers to them. Your head resting on Mikey’s chest, Mel spooning you from behind, your eyes fell onto the gift box that lay on the floor next to Mel’s pants. 

“Hey Mel, you haven't opened the gift from your mom yet.” You had totally forgotten to ask him about it earlier.

Mel’s head shot up. “Oh, right, that one!” He seemed to be flustered, making you even more curious. “No, that's actually for the both of you. My mom just kept it for me.”

 Mike seemed to pick up on Mel’s agitation, too, tilting his head as he watched his boyfriend. Mel got up and seized the small box from the floor. “Well, that's not how I’ve planned this, we all lying around naked.” He shook his head laughing.  “But I guess that's just how we do such things.” Mel knelt between Mike and you and held the box out for you to take.

Mike and you looked at each other, both puzzled. You were definitely not expecting another present, and neither was Mikey. 

You had opened so many gifts already today, so you asked Mikey to open this one. Mike took it and shredded the beautiful teal wrapping paper with the little silver stars to tiny pieces. When your look fell onto the navy velvet box, both Mike and you stared at Mel in surprise. Mel’s ears reddened, but he gave you a shy smile and nodded for you to open it. Mike and you both placed a hand each on the lid and opened it at the same time. While you squeaked, Mike let out a stunned huff.

“Mel!” Mikey and you shouted his name in unison. But while you couldn’t say anything else, Mike kept talking. “You can’t be serious? This is gorgeous.” 

Mel inhaled deeply and then took out the first ring. The one with the sun. He took your hand in his and slipped the ring on your finger. Then he bent forward and kissed you.

The one with tiny blue stars he took out next. With his free hand, he cupped Mikey’s cheek. You noticed Mikey clearly fighting with tears as Mel kissed him. When Mel pulled back, he took Mikey’s hand and fitted the ring on his digit. 

You held the box still in your hands with one last ring in it, showing a moon. With an incredible feeling of love filling your chest, you watched Mel for a long moment. Then Mike laced his fingers with yours. Together, you took the last ring and put it on Mel's finger.

Now both Mikey and you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They were streaming down your faces as you took Mel into your arms, sharing kisses and loving words. 

It took you a while to find your voice again to speak. “Oh, Mel. They are so beautiful. Thank you.” You looked down lovingly at the three hands holding onto each other, one ring on each of them. 

Suddenly, Mikey’s hand shot up to his mouth. “Wait, is this a proposal or something like that? - I mean, it’s not possible… but..” There were so many emotions flashing over his face.

Mel’s eyes got wide. “ No, …uhm, …or.. maybe? I mean… I know I really want to spend my life with you guys.” Your heart was almost bursting in your chest as you heard him speaking. He was right. You wanted nothing more than this.

“That's what I want too.” you whispered, taking one of their hands in each of yours. 

Now Mel’s and your eyes were on Mikey. He was shaking his head, making you panic for a tiny moment, until you saw the love in his eyes. “ I can't imagine a life without you two, either.” 

Mel pulled Mikey and you into his arms and pressed kisses onto your cheeks. “Then let’s say these rings are a promise.”

#mike (hellraiser) #mike (hellraiser) fanfiction #mike (hellraiser) x ofc x melot (Tristan& Isolde AU) #melot fanfic #melot fanfiction #polyamory #polycule #polyam relationship #hearts too big #bi biker boys #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters

[lainiespicewrites]

HEAR ME OUT! Sy as a camp counselor???

I won’t bullshit with you I did fully just think of this in the shower while I was reminiscing on my years as a Summer camp kid! (It was church camp but like y’all trust me…shit was not innocent. There was …there was a girl giving out handy’s under Noah’s Arc 👀)

I was thinking about how much I loved my counselors (because I was insecure as hell so I always hung out with them 😂) and this one guy counselor I had a crush on and this other group of campers that called their counselors “Mom and Dad”

And although Coach is my absolute FAVORITE! And I do love my man in a hoodie in the fall SUMMER IS SY’s season! And we know from the football he’d be good with a group of boys and they’d have a girl cabin they’d do activities with and he’d be all flirty with their counselor and ….they’d have to find time to sneak away to do …other…activities 👀😂 I can picture this! He would have the most rowdy but equally best behaved cabin of boys and they’d pull pranks on his friends cabin! Let me finish With coach Sy and I’m gonna write this 😂😂😂😂

#captain syverson #henry cavill #fanfic writing #henry cavill smut #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #captain syverson smut #august walker #august walker fanfiction #football coach fanfic #coach sy #summer camp au #summer camp fanfic! #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson imagine #syverson fluff

[hertzwritings]

You should see me in a crown

A/N: Yeah, you’re getting more – I am procrastinating hard because I hate exams and they kill me. Anyway, I hope y’all will enjoy it, because I sure as hell loved writing it! Also, I’m trying to go as much in order as possible – hopefully, it’s by request, but if I can’t remember which came first, I’ll do them in numerical order of the prompt-list.

Prompt:  Y/N is a lingerie-model and she needs help getting some photos added to her portfolio – who better than her hot photographer-neighbor?

 You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one shot or multichapter fic, with whatever you want in it!

 Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine in particular) and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits because I am me, and I have none!

 MASTERLIST

PROMPTLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

 Pairing: Photographer!Henry Cavill x female reader

Contains: Language, strangers to lovers, fluff, SMUT (18+, MINORS DNI), fingering, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, cream pie, praise kink, slight degradation kink, slight dumbification, SO MUCH SEXUAL TENSION, p in v, unprotected sex

 W.C.: 4.743 (whoops)

 You should see me in a crown

 You groaned and tried to angle yourself better – it didn’t help, half of your body was either obscured, or your body looked off. It was annoying. Damn this pandemic, having booked up any available photographers for the next four months, when you needed your portfolio up to date by the end of the week.

Apparently, selfies weren’t really a go-to when it came to that kind of thing. You had managed fine with the headshots, but the rest was all wrong and off, and you were shit out of options at this point.

You groaned and pulled your robe on, tightening it around your waist, covering the expensive lingerie you had been sent; it was beautiful, rose-colored and lacy, but you couldn’t capture it right at all.

This called for your favorite: Pizza. Maybe not the best option for you, seeing as you were modeling underwear, but you needed comfort and cheese. Stat. You ordered quickly and poured yourself a healthy glass of wine, when you heard it – your neighbor began playing his music again, and you tilted your head with a smile on your lips, trying to figure out what he was listening today.

You never really spoke to apartment A34. He was nice, but really quiet. He had moved in a week after you, and other than the occasional hey when you spotted each other in the hallway, you didn’t really know him or anything about him. He did have a nice, soft and deep voice, and the smile could melt stone. He wore a camera around his neck almost all the time, you saw him.

The only thing you knew for sure, was that his music reflected his feelings. You had gathered that fact after you ran into a rather uptight-looking woman, who rushed from his apartment, mumbling something under her breath about crazy photographers and their shit and he had blasted Halestorm (and Love bites (but so do I) had been repeated more times than necessary) through the night. You didn’t mind. Then it was Hozier, which only played when it rained, sometimes followed by the smell of apple-pie. He listened to The Beatles on good days, where you could faintly hear him sing along, and on sunny days, he listened to Mother Mother, which, in your opinion, wasn’t exactly sunny music, but you didn’t mind. He had good taste, at least.

 Today it was something new; it sounded like The Bravery, which you hadn’t heard him play before, and you tapped your foot along to it, as you waited for your food to arrive. You cleaned up a little, trying to pass time, and you sighed gratefully when a knock sounded on the door.

You opened it to your handsome A34-neighbor, who held a pizzabox and a sheepish smile on his face. “Hi, sorry. They, er, delivered this. I’m pretty sure I didn’t order it, so…” He handed it to you. “Thank you. Happens more than I like.” You said with a smile and pointed to his camera, that was dutifully slung around his neck. “Photographer?” You asked. He nodded. “Yep. I, er…” You smiled. “British?” “Yeah, is it that obvious?” He asked, smirking a little. “A little. It’s cute, though. Fits you.” You said, before looking down at your pizza. “I should…” “Oh, of course. Have a good night, A32.” He said with a grin. “You too, A34.”

  --------------

While you chewed your way through cheesy goodness, you were deep in thought. It might be a shitty idea brought on by copious amounts of wine, or maybe you just had zero self-respect at this point, but the thought of asking A34 for help seemed like a better and better idea by the second.

You decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least ask, so you gathered all your courage and straightened up, fixed your hair, and trudged to his door, knocking softly. You had to knock three times before the music turned down and the door opened to a rather surprised face.

“A32. What can I do for you?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe. His arms were huge, you noted – it sent an involuntary shiver run down the length of your body, and you did your very best to appear very professional and not at all thirsty.

“So, you’re a photographer.” “I am.” “What kind?” “Am I in a job-interview?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and a playful smile on his lips. “I do a little of everything. I’m best with portraits.” You exhaled. “Thank God. Okay, do you by any chance have time to help me out?” He looked at you with furrowed brows. “Oh, shit, sorry. I’m a model, and I need some shoots for my portfolio, but because of the pandemic, every single photographer has been booked out for months. I have a week.” You said sheepishly. “I promise, I’ll pay you. I just… I won’t get jobs if I don’t have a portfolio that’s up to date.” You finished with a hopeful smile. “Err…” He bit his lip – why was that so damn hot – and glanced behind him. “You know what, I can probably take a few for you.” You jumped in happiness and hugged him – he grunted at the impact, but hesitantly wrapped his arms around your waist. You pulled away with warm cheeks. “Thank you so much.” He smiled. “No problem. I’ll be over in 15.” You turned to leave, when he called out. “Wait, can’t call you A32 forever. What’s your name?” You grinned widely at him. “Y/N.” “Hi, Y/N, good to meet you. I’m Henry.” The way he spoke your name, almost tasting it as it rolled over his tongue, made you clench your thighs together. Shit.

 Exactly 15 minutes later (all of which you had spent throwing the mess in your apartment into every, single closet and dresser, while trying to make yourself look presentable and without cheese between your teeth), he knocked on your door.

“It’s open, come on in!” You yelled out, fixing the three sets of lingerie, you needed pictures of on your couch. He stepped inside, carrying a camera in his hand, one around his neck and a case full of lenses in his right hand. You quirked your eyebrow at it. He grinned and carefully set everything down.

“Didn’t know what you needed when it came to focus, lenses and or light. Might as well come prepared, right?” You nodded. “Seriously, thank you. Do you want a glass of wine or a beer?” He hummed. “Wine would be great. American beer taste like straight piss.” You laughed and poured him a hearty glass of wine, handing it over. He took a sip.

“So, what are we shooting? And where?” He looked around your apartment. “It’s cozy, by the way.” You grinned. “Thank you. I try.” You glanced at him – he looked oddly at home in your apartment, both like he had been here several times before, but also – in a strange way – like he belonged.

“You know, I hear your music sometimes.” You said, drinking a sip of your own wine. You didn’t get nervous in front of cameras normally, so why was this guy making you feel like a leaf, holding on against the sheer force of wind on a late autumn day? Maybe, you mused, it was the fact that his head almost hit your ceiling-lamp and he took up a lot of space in your small living room. He was a giant, broad and if he didn’t exude casual energy, you were sure he’d command a room just by stepping into it.   “Oh, really? Shit, I’m sorry.” You shook your head and laughed a little. “It’s fine, really. I like it. I can kind of tell what kind of day you’re having with your choice in music.” “Fuck.” He chuckled. “Damn, you know a lot more about me than I know about you, then. I’ll keep it down.” “it’s fine, seriously. I don’t think you’re playing all that loud, the walls are just really thin, and I think that your living room borders my bedroom.” You said with a shy smile. You didn’t want to think about the possibility of that sound traveling both ways, because that meant he had heard some less than savory things coming from you late at night. “Enlighten me, then. What is your thesis on my mood and music?” You shrugged and drank again, feeling a little hot under his gaze. “You listen to If I Fell by the Beatles when you’re stressed. I can hear you banging about when it plays.” He hummed. “Oh, and I’d steer clear of you if you’re listening to Black Label Society. I can hear you stomp around.” He laughed at that. “Damn, I should listen to something new to keep you on your toes.” “I like knowing you like that. It’s intimate.” You closed your eyes in pure shame. “Oh my God, just forget that.” He roared with laughter. “Okay, let’s just… Okay, just, we’re shooting in here.” You said, laughing along with him as you led him to your bedroom – he was easy to be around, which was a definite plus. “Oh, your bedroom?” He asked, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, it’s the best light in the entire apartment. Hope that’s okay…?” You asked, pointing to the ring light you had set up. “I mean, I have this, so the light will be better. The sun’s down, so the natural light is a bust.” He nodded, going into photographer-mode. “Would you mind if I move around a bit?” “Not at all.” He nodded. “Oh, what are we shooting?” He asked absentmindedly. “Well… So, I’m a lingerie-model.” You said with a sly smile. He sputtered. “Sorry?” Your cheeks were burning up. “Yeah. And I need some new things because a few… Uhm, areas have changed a bit.” You said, glancing down at your chest. You had previously thought that boob-growth would stop after your teens, but apparently not. “So… I, er, you need… Me… Er, to..” “Take pictures? Headshots and a few full body pictures? I need a few different sets photographed, because they sit differently depending on what type it is.” You explained, wringing your hands. “Would that be okay?” He swallowed again, his eyes darting to your robe. “Oh, yeah, sure. I just… Need to get the right lenses. And all that jiz…” he caught himself. “All that jazz.” You swallowed thickly. Oh boy, this was going to be hard. “Cool. I’ll let you set up and, uh, I’ll… Get my stuff ready.” Why did he have to be attractive?

 You came back to the bedroom a few minutes later, while he was screwing on a lens – he had moved your bed a little out of the way (how he had managed that alone boggled your mind, because it had required you and two movers to put it in place) and he had put up the light where he wanted it. “I was thinking we’ll do some soft light ones, maybe on the bed, and a few full body ones on the stool.” He pointed to a stool from your kitchen, he had placed in front of the only blank wall in your bedroom. “We’ll see what feels most comfortable for you, and just kind of experiment, if you’re up for it?” He was being entirely professional, and you thanked him silently for being able to do it. You nodded and smiled. “I have three different sets to shoot, so could we maybe start on the stool? I’d love to have some standing ones too.” “Oh, yeah, of course. Whenever you’re ready.” “How much am I going to owe you?” You asked, pulling your wallet out. “Oh, about that…” He smiled sweetly at you. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to do a few extra for me? It would be a great way to expand on my own portfolio as well.” “Seriously?” “Yeah. Free of charge, if you’re okay with lending me your body.” He coughed. “For pictures! Pictures, of course.” You bit your lip. “Sure thing, Henry.” You walked to the stool and stood in front of it as he adjusted the lights and the setting on his camera. “Can you take the robe off? I need to see how the light reflects on your skin in the camer…” He stopped talking when the robe fell from your shoulders. The rose-colored set with garters seemed to have left him speechless. You looked at him through your eyelashes – totally unintentionally, of course – and cleared your throat. “Is this okay…?” You asked. He nodded. “Y-yeah, that’s, er, t-that’s great. Just… One moment, please.” He looked through his camera and tweaked a few things. “Would you mind if I put music on? I just feel more at ease like that.” You were lying through your teeth. You would have no issue doing this without music, but you needed something to distract yourself just a little. Besides, you had the perfect playlist in mind.

“Yeah, no, go right ahead.” You jumped off the stool and turned on your speakers, finding your playlist – you had in a bout of inspiration called it fuck me – and put it on. You breathed a sigh of relief as familiar music began streaming and you got back on the chair. “Ready when you are.”

 The stool-pictures had gone easily by, him telling you positions that would work best on camera and he even went as far as adjusting you sometimes – every time his warm hand touched your skin, you had sucked in a breath, trying to contain your absolutely inappropriate wetness. When you decided it was enough, you quickly switched to a different set – this one was red, and a babydoll in sheer mesh covered most of you, but you realized that your nipples were very visible through the sheer fabric. You groaned. Fucking shit.

“Let’s do a few standing.” He mumbled, not looking at you. You stood in front of the ring light, and when he saw you through his lens, you swore you heard him mutter a small fucking shit. “Yup, perfect. Right there.” He huffed, biting his teeth together hard enough to make his jaw clench.

 This shoot went on just as well as the other, but the tension was insane. You felt like you could barely breathe, while he snapped pictures of you, still adjusting you every which way, sometimes even grazing your hardened nipple. It was too much.

 “I’ll… Change.” You mumbled, hurrying from your bedroom as the thumbing tones from E-girls are ruining my life rang out behind you. You were an idiot for putting music on, that would under normal circumstances make you feel wild and slightly horny.

The last set was black and lacy, but sheer as hell. It had a garterbelt and thigh highs too, the fabric of the bra barely covered your chest and the high-waisted thong made you shiver; you knew it looked good, but you were a little worried about wearing so little in front of him. Hopefully his camera wouldn’t pick up on how wet you were.

 His eyes found yours in the moment, you stepped inside, and he groaned. “Come on.” He looked like he was in pain. “Bed?” You asked, and he nodded tightly. You didn’t miss the way he adjusted himself in his pants but decided to ignore it. You were a professional, after all. You laid down on the bed and he snapped a few pictures, before showing them to you. “Wow, I think I got what I needed!” You said happily. “Uh, did you want to get some as well?” You asked softly. He drew a deep breath. “Yeah. If that’s okay.” “Sure thing. Tell me what to do.” He sucked a breath in between his teeth and you clenched your thighs together. Fucking hell, it had gotten hot in here. “Okay, can you lay on your stomach, legs up and crossed? Oh, and take your hair down, please.” You followed instructions and you heard a small, almost inaudible whisper of fuck as you did. “Okay, now… Cross your arms at the elbows, and kind of… Stretch out a little. Elongate your back and push your, er, behind up, please.” You looked at him with a smirk and a crooked eyebrow. “Just trust me.” He grinned. “Alright.” You did what he asked, and you instantly felt why he needed you like this; you felt sexy as hell in this position. You shot him a smile through the tufts of hair hanging down. “Fuck, yes. Stay right there, like that.” He snapped a few pictures. “Okay… Do you trust me?” Weirdly, you did. “Yes.” “Good. Can you lay down on your back for me, darling?” The nickname wasn’t lost on you, and it sent shivers down your legs. He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah.” You laid on your back, and he let the camera fall to his chest again, hanging from the strap on his neck. “Two seconds. Is it okay if I touch you?” He asked genuinely. You nodded. “Thank you.” He smiled and began arranging your hair around your face, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly between his lips. You had to seriously contain yourself from sucking it. He began slowly letting his fingers trail down to your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake, whenever he touched your skin. He slowly, but surely, grabbed your wrists and you sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his fingers wrap around your wrists, before slowly moving your arms above your head, crossing your wrists. You were shaking, when he slowly moved his hands to your waist – letting his fingers trail to your ribs first – and then your hips, grabbing them and angling you a little. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. His fingers were burning on your skin, and there was tension high enough to power a small city between you. His fingers slid from your hips to your thighs and you almost moaned when the tips of his fingers held your inner thighs until they moved to your knees. He grabbed you from the back of your knee and lifted your leg into position. He shot you a smile, his eyes a little darker than before, and then he climbed on the fucking bed.

 You didn’t move, when he stood, straddling your shins with wide legs, angling the camera. “Perfect.” He mumbled and you looked straight into the lens. You had never felt anything more sensual than this very moment. “Okay, can you… This is going to sound weird, but can you think of something… Sexy?” “Something sexy?” You could think of plenty. “Like what?” He blushed a little and lowered the camera. “I just need a specific look from you.” “Henry, just say what you need.” He licked his lips. “Think of whatever you want someone to do to you. What you like… What turns you on, anything, really.” You exhaled a shaky breath. No problem.

“You got it.” Your mind flooded with absolutely filthy things. Henry pinning your wrists as you moaned underneath him. Henry between your legs. Henry fucking you deeply, biting your collarbone. Kissing Henry. In reality, you just imagined Henry and that was more than enough. You didn’t even notice him taking pictures, much less the way he shifted a little to alleviate some of the tension in his pants.

“Thank you. I think I got it.” He whispered and pulled you from your thoughts. “Are you sure?” You didn’t want him to leave. “Uh…” “I mean, I think I, uh, might need some help with the right expression.” You said boldly – you didn’t know where it came from, and you honestly didn´t care as soon as you saw his eyes darken significantly. “Y/N, I…” “I just want to make sure you have a good picture.” You said slowly, eyes trained on him. “It would be a shame, if my expression ruined that for you…” The camera hung limply from his chest now, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Whatever you think I mean, yes.” You whispered.

 He quickly got down, resting his body on top of yours and his lips were so fucking close, you could almost taste him. “If I start, I might not stop.” He said slowly, his breath fanning over your face. It was intoxicating. “Who said I wanted you to stop?” “Darling, I would ruin you.” You smirked at him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Try me.” “Fucking hell, princess.”

 And all thoughts went right out of your head, because he pulled his camera off himself quicker than you could even see, and his lips slotted over yours with absolute urgency. You moaned against his lips, electricity running through your body like wildfires. You wrapped your legs around his hips, your heels digging into his ass, pulling him closer to you; his tongue found yours and you mewled as you felt his erection press against your clothes. You were both moaning into the kiss, hands frantic as you both tried to undress him and you. “You suck at taking my shirt off.” He laughed, pulling it over his head. “Shut up, it was tight.” You were desperate for his lips back on yours and it was near unbearable. He groaned and bit down on your lower lip, tugging it slightly. You whimpered. “Oh, you like it a little rough, love…? You want me to ruin you, don’t you, princess?” You moaned again, rolling your hips to create friction on your clit. He hissed and grabbed your hair, pulling it roughly. “F-fuck, Henry…” You were breathless, completely ready to give him whatever he asked for. You’d soul your soul for this man, as long as he kept going. His free hand undid his pants, and he pushed them down his legs with urgency, before two fingers found the waistband of your panties. “Fond of these?” “I mean, yeah…” He groaned and quickly tugged them down your legs. “Fine, I won’t ruin this pair, then.” Your eyes rolled back at the ferocity of his voice. A completely ungodly sound left your lips when his thick fingers found your dripping pussy, entering you with ease. “Oh, baby, you don’t even need me to warm you up, do you? Such a good girl, just ready for me…” He dragged his fingers in and out of you, edging you closer to your high, and you whined. “Such a little whore, aren’t you? Willing to fuck me just for taking your pictures?” Normally, you’d have his damn head for saying shit like that, but you felt a gush of wetness at his words; it was disgusting and filthy, but it turned you on like nothing else. “There’s a good girl… You want to cum for me?” He asked, his lips trailing down your body until he blew a gust of cool air on your throbbing clit. You writhed under him. “Fuck, just… Fucking…” You didn’t know what you wanted, but you wanted something. His fingers were unrelenting in you, and he chuckled darkly, the sound sending shockwaves through your entire body. You weren’t prepared for his mouth and tongue attacking your wet pussy. You screamed in pleasure as he began sucking and licking like a man possessed. Your hips were rolling against his face and fingers, your high so fucking close. “Fuck, you taste like heaven, darling…” He groaned, tongue lapping at your folds. You writhed and your hips bucked, the familiar heat in your abdomen building until it nearly reached its crescendo, when he stopped. “Baby girl, you better ask first…” he whispered, the sound muffled slightly by your thighs. “Are you fucking kidding me!?” You moaned, and his mouth left yours – he instead slapped down on your clit with his wide hand, and you screamed, arching your back off the bed. “Play nice, or I won’t.” he promised. “Fuck, sorry… Please, please, can I cum, please, Henry…” He chuckled. “Fast learner.” He lowered his face again. “You can cum, love.” His mouth and tongue began their attack again as his fingers sped up, and you barely had time to fucking breathe before an orgasm overwhelmed you; you exploded on him, your wetness gushing from you as you came hard, your hips bucking as he ate you through your orgasm.

“Fucking shit…” You moaned, grabbing at his hair to pull him up. He willingly followed, his cheeks and chin wet with you, and you kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. You whimpered against him, your hand snaking between your bodies to grab at his throbbing cock. He moaned as you began jerking you off, his fingers leaving you. “Don’t… I want to last, baby… Need to be inside of you, princess.” He said breathily. You sighed dramatically. “Fine, I guess I’ll save the cock-worship for another day.” You grinned at him when you felt him twitch in your hand. “Oh, this is all about you, darling… You did so good for me, you deserve a reward, don’t you?” You preened under his praise. “Please…” He nudged your clit with his thick cockhead, teasing you and coating himself in your slick. “Please, what, princess?” You could hear the smirk on his lips. “Please… Fuck me… Please, fuck me until I can’t think.” He growled and in one, swift move, he was inside of you – you moaned as he stretched you completely. “Fuck, you are big… Shit…” “You can take it, you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He asked, nibbling at your collarbone as he slowly inched inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both exhaled a moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “I swear to God, if you don’t move…” He laughed at your impatience, but nonetheless, he slowly pulled out before slamming harshly back into you.

 He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d ruin you. For any other man in all planes of existence. You were a mess under him, your arms and legs desperately clinging to him as he fucked you deeply, his head hitting your g-spot every single time, and you cried out as he dragged against your walls, his fingers finding your nipple and rolling and pinching it. “Fuck, look at you taking me so fucking well…” He sat up, holding your legs to his chest before spreading them out, fucking into you even deeper. You angled your hips up, allowing him to grab your ass to hold onto as he sped up. Your walls clenched around him. “Is my pretty girl going to cum again, huh? Want to make a mess of my cock, princess?” He grunted, and you barely had breath enough in you to tell him, yes, fuck yes I am – he grinned and his thumb found your clit, adding pressure to it. “Then cum for me, love…” You didn’t have to be told twice. You came for a second time tonight, earthshattering pleasure coursing through your veins and your entire body went tight as a bowstring; he growled and picked up the pace even more, slamming deeply into you as you rode out your orgasm, letting it wash over you. You were incoherent at this point, begging for something. “Aw, look at you, all cock-drunk on me… So pretty, when you’re fucked stupid, aren’t you?” His long fingers found your mouth. “Suck.” You wrapped your lips around his fingers, hollowing your cheeks and began sucking his fingers, twirling your tongue against the pads of his fingers and he grunted, his pace stuttered. “Where do you want me to cum, love?” he asked between moans. “I’m getting so fucking close…” he mumbled, looking down at where your dripping pussy swallowed his thick cock. “In me. Fill me, please, please…” You mumbled around his fingers. His eyes gleamed and he pulled his fingers from you and leaned down to capture your lips with his again.

 His pace was otherworldly, and when his hips stuttered again, you moaned and wrapped your legs around his hips, driving him deeper. Your walls pulsed around him, and he roared as he came, spilling ropes of cum inside of you.

 You were both panting and sweating, when he grinned mischievously and fumbled on the ground, producing his camera. He snapped a picture of your flushed, smiling and downright drunk face. “You look so pretty like this, darling.” You chuckled weakly. “You should see me in a crown.” He laughed and kissed you softly.

“This is going to be a habit, isn’t it?” He asked against your lips.

“Not without dinner first, it’s not.” You replied, kissing him back.

-----------------------

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[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {9}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton

Warning: Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Fluff, 

Words: 8.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan: “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four-destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. She explores and meets the friendly locals. One local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: AND WE’RE BACK!!!  It’s December again which means we all need a cheesy Christmas romance. 😁 I know this has been gone for a long, long time and I am thankful for each of you who still care about it. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} | {6} | {7} | {8} | 

-Y/N-

“Hey you’ve reached Neka. I’m too busy living my life the way I want to and can’t be bothered to answer. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. If I want to.”

 You sighed hearing your sister’s very familiar voicemail message.

 “Aneka, it’s me. Where are you? I get this place is obscenely huge and there is plenty to explore but pick up the damn phone. Let me know you’re okay.”

 You ended the call and sighed again as you made sure you had everything in your purse. A few moments later, you stopped thinking again about going to this thing. Half of you was telling you it was a bad idea and that you should stay away from everything related to this country including its crown prince. However, the other side was traitorous and telling you to run carefree and live by the seat of your panties and take them off for said crown prince.

 What’s the worst that could happen? You recognized the question from the carefree and often diabolical devil on your shoulder.

 Humiliation and heartbreak are what. The words from the practical and cautious angel on the other side of your shoulder piped up.

 You stood there thinking about both sides for a few moments then continued putting items into your purse.

 Good girl, live a little, have some fun and get a few orgasms at the same time. Win/win. The devil was on a roll.

 It is all fun and games until you get your heart broken by an actual prince who has obligations to be with someone other than you.

 The angel’s words were like a gut punch. It was right.

 MSG Aneka: I’m sorry RiRi. I’m going to this thing in the park. You should come I hear it’s a lot of fun.

 Your sister never ceased to amaze you. She’d found out about the citizen’s Brexenavide on her own and was already in the thick of it. She had no problem going with the flow and having a good time when she saw it could be had. You sighed again, finally deciding to just do it. However, a few minutes after making the decision you scowled remembering who you’d be driving with.

 There was something about this Freddie girl that rubbed you the wrong way. Something about her that screamed she was not to be trusted and that included enough to be in the same car. You groaned because you’d long left high school and the petty turf wars of petty bitches behind. You were an adult now who had bills and obligations and checking a rich bitch wasn’t one of them. A smirk spread across your face as you came to the realization that you were happy to rise to the occasion though. After looking yourself over, you divided to change. While your current outfit was cute, one look outside said you needed something warmer.

 At that thought there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, you found a honey eyed member of the staff you recognized. She smiled and bowed her head slightly.

 “Ms. Xari. I come with a message from Princess Jemma.”

 Recognition hit you then, “Tamina, right?”

 She smiled wider and nodded, clearly delighted you remembered her.

 “Yes, ma’am.”

 “Come in, please.”

 “No need ma’am. This is from the princess. She wanted you to have it for the event today. Her direct message is to wear it and it will ensure no one will be able to take their eyes off of you.”

 What the hell did that mean? You reached out to Tamina and took the two garment bags that were lying across her forearms.

 “Thank you, Tamina. Please thank the princess.”

 Tamina bowed again before walking off. When you turned back into your room you staggered to the bed from the weight of the items in your arms and laid the bags across your bed. Unzipping the first one, your eyes widened at the sight of a chic, and beautiful outfit resting there. The items looked designer, and no doubt must have costed several thousand dollars. Your hand brushed against the shiny leather of the pants and instantly recognized it was high quality. It went perfect with the cropped knitted sweater that rested just atop it.

 You didn’t know how Jemma knew you were a sucker for leather pants, but you were busting at the seams to try them on. Every woman needed a great pair of leather pants that made their ass pop. You reached for the second bag and opened it and gasped. A plush fur coat that brought the whole thing together waited for you to touch it. You were so tempted, and that temptation proved to be too much. When your fingers entangled in the fur, you cooed. It was perfect. Leather and fur, how luxurious, you thought.

 When in Rome, or Brexendor. Live a little. The angel on your shoulder had a point. Within minutes, you’d peeled off your own clothing and changed into the ones sent by Jemma. Surprisingly they were a perfect fit. The moment you buttoned the pants you sighed. They were made for you. Once you’d pulled it all together, you stood in front of the full-length mirror in the room and surveyed your look from every angle. Every angle passed the test. You looked damn good. For the final test, you dropped down like you were doing the beat drop challenge and kept your eyes on your ass. A wide grin spread across your face.

 “Thank you, Jemma!”

 You hurried into the closet, remembering you’d already packed the perfect boots to wear with this outfit. When you’d packed, Aneka had made fun of you saying you were going to slip on a patch of ice and break your neck because of them. You didn’t bother telling her it would never happen because no one pays nearly nine hundred dollars for boots that were designed for cold weather in mind with the chance of said boots sending you to your death because they couldn’t hold up. You’d worn these two times before and they’d never failed you.

 Standing in front of the mirror again, this time in the knee-high fur heeled boots you smirked. Jemma’s words came to mind then.

 “Wear it and it will ensure no one will be able to take their eyes off of you.”

 You wondered if Henry would be among those who couldn’t keep their eyes off of you. Memories of the night before flooded your mind and within seconds you were frozen reminiscing of the way his hands felt against your skin, the scent of his breath as he moaned against your ear, the taste of his lips and the intensity in his eyes when his locked with yours. You had to put a hand out to stabilize yourself because the thought of his body pressing on top of yours made your knees buck

 With much effort, you pulled yourself back to reality. If you thought about him any longer you knew you’d be on edge all day which you guessed would be akin to torture. There was a nagging feeling inside of you that told you that you’d need to be alert today. After checking your make up once more, you grabbed your purse and phone then made your way downstairs. As you passed by the staff you stopped for small talk, inquiring about everyone’s health and thanking them for all they’d done for you thus far. Each of them looked surprised but more than happy to stop and chat with you.

 When you stepped outside into the entry roundabout of the palace, you saw a long line of cars waiting and plenty of bustling bodies still in preparing mode for the departure. You watched the dignitaries load in their cars and pull off one by one. From the looks of all this pomp and flair, you knew this event was much more than just meeting the citizens. Perhaps this was a test of some sorts. You saw the man who’d been introduced as the prime minister do a quick perimeter check, surveying the around area before he looked in your direction. You expected him to get into the car as normal, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared in your direction and the longer he did the more the hairs on the back of your neck stood like your entire being was trying to tell you something about the man.

 The feel of someone touching your left elbow startled you.

 “My apologies Lady Thornton,” said one of the palace butlers.

 “It’s all right.”

 “Your car.”

 His hand stretched to the left at a silver car with its door open and waiting. Through the window, you could see the woman who’d so eagerly offered herself and her car to get you to the event. You were under no false pretenses about her sincerity in doing so. There was something more to her supposedly kind offer. You weren’t in a hurry to find out just how much more but from the way you’d caught her looking at Henry the night of the ball you had your guesses. You allowed the butler to direct you to the car and see you inside.

 As soon as you sat, the woman across from you pasted a smile on her face. It was one of those basic instinct smiles, a smile that housed a thousand lies, and a thousand and one daggers.

 “Xari, darling!”

 Your eyes widened. It had been a while since you’d been around this level of fake.

 “Thank you offering to get me to the event,” you breached.

 She smiled wider, if that was possible then leaned closer and took your hand in hers. “No thank you needed, dear. I have always been keen on helping those less fortunate.”

 You heard the bells of a boxing match in your head. She’d started round one.

 “Wow, um--.”

 “What a cute outfit you’ve chosen for yourself. I worried your tastes would be too—tactless for what the Brexendor press are used to, but I am surprised to see tactlessness will be missing from the day, at least in your outfit.”

 You cocked your head to the side. How did she manage to make so many insults sound so pleasant? You stifled a snort because thanks to your upbringing you’d been forced to go through debutant classes where you learned everything from etiquette to the art of polite disrespect. It was a southern thing. Those classes had prepared you to deal with the southern aunties, upper class grandmothers and quite a few socialites who thought they were better than everyone else because they had a trust fund and a rotation of cars for every day of the week.

 You opened your mouth to speak but the door on the right of the car opened first. First it was your sister, Aneka who ducked inside and sat beside you, then Albee, the man with the pretty eyes from the ball who sat beside Freddie.

 “Aneka?”

 She looped her arm with yours and smiled. “I thought you’d left already?”

 “I was but I got—distracted,” she said coyly smiling at Albee who smirked right back.

 “What are you doing in my car, Albee? Though I know yours is far less luxurious than mine I am sure you have your own car,” Freddie cheeked.

 Albee didn’t look fazed in the least, instead he smirked and made himself more comfortable in his seat. “Freddie you are aware that we are the same rank, correct?”

 “Duchess Frederica,” she retorted through clenched teeth.

 Albee scoffed. “Freddie. We’re all friends here, no need for titles. Only those who feel themselves more important than you truly are need to lean on such trivial things.”

 Freddie glared at him with one brow raised.

 “Since you are offering transport, I humbly accept your offer. Driver, carry on.”

 Before Freddie could reply, the car took motion, and she didn’t look one bit happy about it. You and Aneka exchanged glances speaking through them as you usually did. You were tempted to bust out your secret language from when you were kids but didn’t want to come off as intentionally rude. This was a tit for tat game.

 “And who are you?”

 Freddie’s calculating eyes landed on Aneka, but she didn’t shrink back, Aneka instead raised her brow and put on a sugar sweet smile on her face.

 “Aneka, Xari’s sister.”

 Freddi’s eyebrow darted upward as she took both of you in. “So there are two less fortunate souls that need our charity.”

 “The only thing unfortunate is your dye job. Did you pay for that?”

 The fire in Freddie’s eyes sparked and you saw Aneka had struck a nerve. It was after all her specialty.

 “Oh don’t tease dear Freddie about her hair. She loves it more than Jesus and little children,” Albee teased.

 “Children are disgusting,” she added never taking her eyes off of Aneka.

 “Interesting. That is not what I recall you telling the queen just a few weeks ago. What was it? Oh, I do so love children and cannot wait until I can become a mother. I do believe it is my life’s purpose.”

 You couldn’t help but snort. Dipping your head to the side to hide in Aneka’s shoulder you snickered.

 “I knew I scented fake on you, but I didn’t know it was this much of it,” Aneka added.

 “Fake? Are we talking about fake as in your supposed Gucci shoes or perhaps that atrocity you call hair atop your head? That level of fake?”

 Aneka lunged forward but your hand across her chest like a theme park ride safety bar stopped her.

 “Ri, Aneka began but the look you gave her stopped any further words.

 “So your hair is a sore topic? Remember that before you even attempt to go toe to toe with me.”

 You could hear Aneka’s teeth grinding. You knew she had it in her to beat Freddie’s ass in record time then step out the car without so much as a scratch on her. However, this was not the place and definitely not the time. You didn’t want to offend the queen or the family especially with the level of hospitality they were currently showing you both.

 “Take it easy Freddie. We wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened two Christmases ago. I don’t think the gossip would die down so quickly this time,” Albee cautioned.

 The look Freddie gave him could have frozen anyone’s heart, but he didn’t look bothered at all. His smile was bright as he met the challenge of her icy gaze. It was clear that this was normal for the two of them. Either this was a huge scheme between them to dupe the newcomer or the two disliked each other.

 “Why am I not surprised that you have found yet another commoner to slum it with. Do you not have any sense of pride or self-worth? Do you not feel them beneath you?”

 Aneka made a move to lunge at Freddie again, but you held firmly to her and brought her attention to look out the window.

 “Tsk, Tsk Freddie. Where is your decorum? My sense of pride and worth were never in question. Yours however—I can after all say I have never had a lifelong pursuit of someone who didn’t want me in the slightest bit.”

 You tucked that bit of information away for when you were alone to dissect it. All conversation stopped and you pointed things out to Aneka. Everything you pointed out Albee took it upon himself to either explain or give backstory to. It was interesting the information he revealed about the country. It was clear from his voice he also loved his home. With every other sentence he spoke, Freddie had a snide remark for. Either it was something to make him look bad or to point out how out of bounds you were to even be here.

 Thankfully, the car pulled into the destination when it did because you were quickly approaching the limit to your acceptance and ability to turn the other cheek. You looked at all the things that were set up for this event. Off to the side where the path was fully paved, there were stations set up for snacks, drinks, souvenirs, pictures and a few other things such as arts and crafts. Across the massive open field there was plenty to do. The car rolled past a toboggan area where children and adults were already speeding down the steep slope having a fabulous time. There was even an ice-skating rink that looked like the perfect photo-op to showcase how picturesque this country really was. You caught sight of other stalls set up with games, even child and family friendly park rides and even animals for petting.

 “Wow, give me this over a ball any day,” Aneka said.

 Freddie scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Gauche,” she hissed.

 The car door opened but before Freddie could make a move you slammed it shut again and locked it. You’d had enough.

 “I have sat here this entire car ride and listened to your disrespect and belittlement of myself, and my sister and I let you get it all out because I know those who feel threatened the most always feel the need to wail and moan about it so their voices are the ones heard the loudest to distract from how insignificant they truly feel and are.”

 Freddie’s eyes blazed. She opened her mouth to speak but you continued, keeping your voice steady. “I wasn’t going to point out your insignificance, but I feel I must now. If you had any respect for yourself, your country and people you would shut your mouth and practice a little thing we call in America and by we, I mean women with mine and Aneka’s hair, call self-restraint and self-love. Because you would truly understand that you reflect upon your country and people. It is very telling of your low intelligence when all you can do is attempt to make others feel lowly about themselves because you put so much value on wealth. This holier than thou act will only lead to one thing in your life, shame and loneliness. Though I think you are fully aware of the loneliness part. You can’t make me feel bad about myself because I know my worth and it is astronomically higher than yours and we both know he sees that.”

 Freddie sputtered clearly trying to find the words for a comeback. You gave her a good five seconds to compute but even that wasn’t enough. Poor little Tink Tink, you thought as you unlocked the door. It opened as soon as you did like the driver had been trying the entire time. You didn’t wait for her to climb out you took the initiative and took the driver’s hand and climbed out of the car holding onto Aneka’s hand bringing her with you.

As soon as you stepped out of the car, you caught Henry’s eye. His brows were burrowed and there was a look of concern on his face. You gave him a polite smile and head nod as you rounded the car. Slowly, he brought his attention to the group of men before him. Albee stepped beside you then leaned close to your ear.

 “She has fangs,” he whispered.

 You smirked, “And my bite and bark are both deadly.”

 His smile widened as he tipped his invisible hat to you.

 “I like you,” Albee added as the line of dignitaries began moving. “And I can see why he likes you too.”

 His voice was lower this time, but it was his words that had you stumbling. Thanks to Aneka’s grip on your arm, it was barely noticeable. Thank goodness too because the press were hungrily snapping pictures of everyone and everything. You and the others stood to the side as Henry, the queen and Jemma shook hands and took the lead in the festivities. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow Henry as he shook the hands of several people while exchanging pleasantries. His smile was wide and the gleam in his eyes said he was genuinely happy to be there and interact with them all.

 When you saw him dip down to greet a few children, your ovaries practically exploded. The kids melted and in turn he did too. He played around with them as his mother and sister took over with greeting the adults. The more you watched the more your heart thumped thinking how adorable he looked.

 “Romancing the daughters of the dignitaries, Duke Baldrik?”

 Your attention turned to a photog standing in front of the three of you snapping pictures. The bright lights blinded you momentarily making you bring your hand to shield your face.

 “Ha, not at all, Albee replied with a bachelor perfect smile.

 “They look unfamiliar. Who might they be?”

 “Honored guests of the crown,” Albee offered holding out his arms for both you and Aneka to take. Once you did, he tipped his head to the photog and began ushering you toward the stalls that were set up.

 “Enjoy the event,” Albee called out.

 As soon as he was out of earshot, he blew out. “While the press here is not entirely as bad as it is in America, I do have to caution you. Do not underestimate them.”

 “Thank you,” Aneka said with a flirtatious smile.

 If was clear now that she was into him. Of course, she was, you thought. Aneka liked them pretty.

 “My pleasure. The longer you are here the more you will be able to figure out which ones prefer some scandal on top of their news and who truly have the crown’s best interest at heart. Him—scandal fattens his pockets.”

 You scanned the photographer from before who was now snapping pictures of Freddie who was now with two other women who looked just as stuck up as she did. She looked to be loving the attention and the compliments she was getting from everyone around her. Figured. Rolling your eyes, you turned your back on her.

 “Are you not afraid?”

 “Afraid of what?”

 “The power she wields.”

 “Call me dense because I know nothing of her power. All I see is a sad little bitch.”

 Albee snorted and heartily laughed bringing the attention of most around you, even Henry.

 “My goodness. You are a breath of fresh air. Would you like me to enlighten you of her power, or the power of her name?”

 You looked at a few figurines at the stall smiling at how cute they were.

 “Nah, I don’t care.”

 “I do. Know thy enemy, Art of War, Sun Tzu,” Aneka butt in.

 Albee’s smile widened. “I do think I am going to enjoy this season.”

 As the three of you walked around taking in the many activities, that had been prepared Albee told you all about Freddie and her family. He didn’t leave much out including her net worth and the influence her family had in the past. When he told you about her lifetime hope and dream of becoming the queen, you almost laughed. Of course she wanted to be queen. She was clearly obsessed with power and wanted the second highest position in the country. However, when Albee revealed that Henry didn’t seem to be keen on that idea you couldn’t keep a smile off your face. It was short lived though, because it dawned on you then that you’d stepped right into another season of “The Bachelor: Who Wants the Crown”. Rich women would fight to their last press on nail for more money and more power and it was even better if it came with a crown and a pretty hot prince.

 From the look Aneka gave you, she was thinking the same thing. You tentatively listened as Albee pointed out the who was who of the group all with backstory. He was clearly well informed from growing up within all of this but firm the way he spoke about the rest of them in comparison to Henry you could tell he harbored no ill will toward him. Perhaps there really were some good people besides the queen and Jemma after all.

 Fo the next few hours you, Aneka and Albee explored the park flitting from game to game and stall to stall. Every few seconds you were snapping pictures trying to capture the joy and liveliness that was all around you. Everyone was so friendly you couldn’t help but feel right at home among them. Kids easily approached you to play and sing and show you the ropes of a few local games. Grandmothers with kind eyes happily shared stories and happy memories of previous Brexenavides while offering local delicacies like candied nuts that came in a plethora of flavors that you quickly became addicted to.

 Before you knew it, you’d wandered off by yourself with no sight of Aneka or Albee. You wondered if it was purposely done so she could get some alone time with him. Deciding not to go find them, you wandered the area some more until you felt a snowball hit your back. Expecting to see a child, you spun around but found Henry with the evidence on his leather gloves. Your jaw dropped.

 “Your highness,” you gasped.

 His laugh echoed around you as he approached you.

 “Forgive me my lady.”

 “There goes that title again. I’m no lady.”

 Henry took you in for a few moments. “I beg to differ. I have always seen a lady as one who is refined, polite and well spoken, someone who makes those around them feel valued.”

 “And that is me?”

 “Yes. Since you’ve arrived, I have overheard many of the maids talking about your kindness to them how you never make them feel less than and how you are always polite, stopping to talk to them as if you care about their feelings.”

 “And I take it that is something out of character in Brexendor.”

 Henry took a deep breath. “Among my family not at all, but when the palace gets filled with dignitaries and other world leaders, I am ashamed to say yes.”

 You nodded and popped a few more candied nuts into your mouth. You tipped the bag toward him.

 “Are those what I think they are?”

 He dipped inside and came away with a small handful that he tossed into his mouth. The moan he let out was deep and it took you right back to the night before. Goosebumps skirted across your skin making you stand taller as a shiver ran through you.

 “Are you cold?”

 “Uh—no. I’m all right.”

 “I am sorry I got carried away. These have always been my favorite. I remember the first outing my father took me to. He knew I was not looking forward to it and that I was anxious about making a good impression on him and the family. Once I got into the car, he had a bag of these waiting for me. As we drove, we talked about sports, video games and my tutor who I mightily disliked. We ate the whole bag within minutes and by the time we got to the appearance all of my nerves had wilted away. Every outing I went on whether it was with him or without there was a bag of these waiting for me.”

 The smile on his face was so warm but it was also sorrowful.

 “That’s beautiful.”

 He nodded popping another one into his mouth. “Then he died and since—I haven’t had not even one.”

 The sadness rolling off of him touched your heart. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything was going to be all right. You wanted to comfort him in a way that this open space did not permit. You glanced around and caught sight of the toboggan area.

 “How good are you at toboggan?”

 Henry scoffed the dusted off his hands. “I am the toboggan king.”

 You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Put your money where your mouth is, your highness.”

 “Money? Are we betting?”

 “Bet your ass we are.”

 “My ass? My, my Lady Thornton, how forward you are to think that is up for grabs.”

 The look he gave you was a steamy one.

 “Is there something else that should be up for grabs, your highness? Perhaps something—harder to—accomplish—something bigger?”

 Heat flashed behind his icicle blue orbs as he held your gaze. Henry took a step to you then another. With clenched jaws, he sighed.

 “Winner makes the request?”

 “Wager accepted.”

 The two of you walked over to the toboggan areas. As soon as you approached those around marveled at having him so close. It didn’t matter their age they were all captivated by him. To have that much power, you thought. How was he not some self-absorbed asshole?

“After you,” Henry offered, holding his hand out to an empty toboggan. You smirked then climbed on taking care to use your long jacket to pool between your legs so there would be no unsavory photos later.

 Once you were comfortable, you glanced to your left, he was seated in his own toboggan ready and waiting with a boyish excited smile on his face. You wondered when the last time was that he’d smiled like that.

 “Last chance to back out Lady Thornton.”

 You playfully rolled your eyes. “A lady never goes back on a wager. Are you sure you don’t want to forfeit before you lose terribly in front of your citizens? A true king knows when he is in over his head.”

 Henry laughed loudly again and everyone around him giggled clearly catching his excited joy.

 “That is true, but I assure you my lady, this is not one of those times.”

 You smiled and focused in front of you. Someone off to the side began counting down from four and when you shouted one a pair of strong hands gave you one push sending you down the steep hill. You’d underestimated the hill greatly and your scream said so. Henry laughed then leaned backward. You watched him inch before you, leading by almost a foot. You did the same and smiled when you cut his lead by a few inches. With the bottom of the hill in sight, you needed a last-ditch effort to come out on top. Not knowing if it would work or not, you rocked back and forth hoping it would increase your speed. Instead, it made the toboggan choppy.

 All too late, you saw the fist sized rock in front of you. However, it was too late. The slate of the toboggan nudged it sending the back of it forward and you sailing through the air. It all happened in slow motion, and you fully caught sight of Henry coasting into the finish line and to a stop. He stood and held his hands in the air in triumph, but that excitement faded when he saw your current state. You heard him shout your name then come barreling toward you. You braced yourself for the hard impact you knew was coming and tried to prepare for the face full of snow you were about to ingest. When you felt the hard collision, it knocked the wind out of your lungs. You rolled a few times but barely felt any pain.

 Finally, when you came to a stop, it took several moments to open your eyes. Atop you was Henry with his face mere inches from yours. For a few seconds, you thought you’d transported back in time, and you were in the garden room with him again. The patches of snow in his hair slowly registered as did the fact that he was calling your name with his hands on your cheek.

“Xari.”

 “Did I win?”

 Henry’s features softened as he gave you a half smile.

 “Not even close.”

 You giggled at first, but it got louder and more uncontrolled. Henry joined in neither of you fully registering that you were not alone and in fact in front of dozens of people. Feet stamped to you, and you turned your face shielding it from the patches of snow.

 “Your highness, are you all right?”

 Reality was colder than the snow you laid upon.

 “Ehm, yes. I am quite all right,” Henry said as he stood. “Just doing the right thing and saving the damsel in distress.”

 You snorted as you took his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull you up. “I suppose I earned that title. Thank you, your highness.”

 Henry nodded, bowing his head ever so slightly. “A pleasure, Lady Thronton.”

 “This way your highness,” Henry’s advisor breached directing the way.

 As he walked off you took note of Freddie and her friends standing off to the side watching you. The look on all their faces told you that you were now on their radar. A few more hours passed, and you took the time to get to every ride and activity. You wanted to experience it all so you could really write about it later. This event was definitely a must for any visitors during this time of year.

 When you ducked into a photo booth, you sighed out taking the time to catch your breath and give your feet a break. Before you could get too comfortable, another body ducked in beside you.

 “Ex--.”

 Henry’s smiling face stopped you.

 “Fancy meeting you here.”

 You snorted and shook your head.

 “Shouldn’t you be working?”

 “Funny thing. I came here fully prepared to work but knowing you are here only makes me want to experience this with you—through your eyes.”

 You searched his then smirked.

 “So, you’re—hiding out?”

 He nodded and you had to laugh then. “Oh, your highness.”

 “Every time you say that it sounds so dirty, and it brings my head to very ungentlemanly things.”

 You leaned forward and began making selections for the pictures.

 “Is that so?”

 “Quite so. Is it intentional on your part?”

 Shrugging, you looked at him.

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about, your highness.”

 His eyes dropped to your lips and within seconds he pulled you flush against his lips at the same time the flash of the camera went off. You both moaned neither pulling away, both intensifying the kiss. His tongue curled around yours making you wrap your arms around his neck at the same time he brought his hand to the back of your neck. He held you tenderly like you were precious but firm not wanting you to slip away. When you came in here, you hadn’t planned on this being a make out spot but now you couldn’t care less about the pictures.  

 His lips were sweet but cold and his tongue warm and intoxicating. Somehow, he tasted like peppermint and chocolate, and it was now your new favorite flavor combination. Needing to be closer, you sank your fingers into his tresses and gripped. The guttural moan he let out reverberated all over you, hardening your nipples and moistening your underwear.

 “Mm, I can kiss you all day every day and never tire of your lips,” Henry whispered.

 “All day? However will you get any work done?”

 He smiled then kissed you again nibbling your bottom lip.

 “I guess I shall not.”

 Your eyes met and you saw the truth of his words. How sweet, you thought before you traced your tongue along his bottom lip then his top carefully outlining his perfect cupid’s bow. He didn’t move an inch. When his eyes fluttered closed giving you the most amazing angle of his long lashes, you softly sighed. Henry then claimed your lips pulling you closer to him so your bodies melded together becoming one figure. His lips hungrily kissed you, nibbling, sucking, licking as he pleased not caring where you were or who could happen upon you at any moment.

 “Eh-em, your highness incoming. Duchess Freddie.”

 McArthur’s voice broke the lustful haze surrounding you forcing you both to reluctantly pull away. Henry groaned his displeasure then glanced behind you.

 “I think I have worked enough today. Care to join me on a personalized tour?”

 You smiled brightly then took his head. “As you wish.”

 “A low growl escaped him, and it sent your heart fluttering ten times as fast. “I do hope you remember those words when I most need them.”

 His grin was mischievous, and you made a note to say them again. The list of words and phrases that elicited a sultry reaction was steadily growing and you planned on monopolizing him at every chance. Henry stood and led you out the other entrance to the booth that was opposite where McArthur must have been standing. His steps were quick as he dashed away like it was the scene of a crime. Perhaps it was seeing how you were now wet and wanting him. When he pulled you through a clearing of pine trees, you squealed, your sense of adventure and excitement picking up.

 Once secluded behind the trees, he backed you into a mass of them tucking you in the tight crevice there then kissed you again. You eagerly accepted the kiss. He felt too sublime against you not to. His lips dipped to your jaw then trailed to your neck where it was clear he was a man with a plan.

 Henry groaned on your neck then nibbled your earlobe, “What are you doing to me, Xari? How have you taken every single brain cell I have and imprinted your face upon them? How have you touched my skin and made it impossible for me to see anyone else doing it? How have you come here and tortured me so?”

 You could hear the yearning in his voice. It was overwhelming, making you want to give in completely to him no matter the consequences. You were speechless. sensing this, he placed a chaste kiss at the tip of your nose then took your hand again and led you through the maze of trees. When you emerged, you saw the spread of rides before you just waiting for you both to let loose like children. McArthur stood just at the large Birch a few feet away with his back turned to you.

 “Your highness, the queen said she can manage the rest of the event with the dignitaries and the press and princess Jemma said she will take point with the children and citizens. They are both instructing you to play the role of the proper host to out palace guest,” McArthur informed.

 You pinched your lips. You knew what a set up sounded like. You couldn’t help but wonder why they were seemingly pushing him to entertain you. Before you could think any further, Henry looped your arm through his and led you across the field. McArthur handed Henry a newsboy hat and a dark scarf to replace his royal blue one he was currently wearing. Once he was disguised, you scoffed because while it gave him a little more coverage you were sure his people knew him thoroughly and would easily spot you. McArthur handed you a large wide brimmed hat that gave you full coverage from every angle.

 “To protect your privacy, Lady Thornton,” McArthur clarified.

 You smiled as you put it on. “Thank you, McArthur.

 A few minutes later you were seated in a ride called Santa’s Sleigh which was similar to those back and forth rocking pirate ships only it was led by the reindeers with Santa in the back.

 “Feel free to scream your highness, I will allow everyone to think it is me.”

 “I do not scream Lady Thornton, however, if you make it worth my while I will be the loudest in the land.”

 You giggled and enjoyed the ride teasing him the entire time. Your interaction was so natural it almost felt unreal. Though he didn’t touch you above your waist, his thigh remained pressed to yours no matter what. By the fourth ride, you’d deduced it was purposely done. Knowing that you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering.  Ride after ride you laughed, joked and teased one another. Ride after ride he made sure to keep some part of your bodies touching. Ride after ride you exchanged flirtatious glances that only increased your body temperature. It may have been twenty or so degrees out, but you were a sweltering ninety-nine degrees.

 “This is your favorite ride?”

 Henry’s questioning eyes were glued to the carousel that was decked with reindeers, sacks of Santa’s presents, giant boulder like forms of coal, Santa’s mailbox and other notable Christmas decorations. The sun had now set and the lights that bathed the ride made it seem so magical. This entire country was plotting against you here, you thought to yourself.

 “Sure is.”

 “Then, shall we?”

Like a six your old child rather than a grown ass woman, you scampered toward the ride then walked around it trying to decide the best figurine. It was a tough choice, but you ended up picking a reindeer which had Henry choosing the same one beside yours. Before he climbed on, he took the time to carefully buckle you into the harness tightening the straps as needed. As he did so, his hands touched your waist and hips and from the look on his face you knew this too was purposely done.

 “Be careful your highness. You are very close to alerting the outside world to just how horny you are.”

 The smirk he wore slipped and his brows furrowed.

 “Is that what you think I am?”

 His voice was tight btu other than that it gave nothing away.

 “Um—isn’t it true?”

 His jaw clenched and a scowl fell across his lips. Backing away, he claimed onto his own reindeer but didn’t bother buckling the straps. A cold breeze engulfed you making you feel the bitter coldness for the first time. Had you said something wrong?

 The carousel went round and round sending you and Henry up and down, but he didn’t speak at any point. Instead, he held onto the pole while staring off into the distance. You allowed the silence to stretch for a few moments then when you turned to speak to him, you found his eyes already on you.

 “Something wrong?”

 Henry opened his mouth to speak but shook his head instead. You didn’t believe him. He definitely had something to say but you didn’t push him.

 “Why is the carousel your favorite ride?”

 You smirked then shook your head. “It just is.”

 “Even if it was not obvious you were lying, I would not believe that. Come on tell me.”

 “You won’t laugh?”

 “I might.”

 You narrowed your eyes at him, but your look was met with a hearty chuckle.

 “Come on tell me.”

 Hugging the pole of the reindeer tighter, you rested the side of your head on it, looking at him. “When I was about 8, I always saw it when looked so—pretty. It was usually the only ride that looked so—magical no matter what time of day or where I went. My father told me that it was a portal to a magical world. He said there was always one sometimes two chosen figures that were spelled to open the portal but only those destined to find it could. So, whenever I saw a carousel, I made it a point to ride it hoping to find the right figure to unlock the portal and take me away.”

 The smile Henry wore was an adoring one. “That may be the cutest image ever. An 8-year-old you climbing onto these things hoping it opened a portal to another world.”

 You nodded. “My parents indulged me, I was lucky. As I got older, I grew out of the heavy belief there was a magical portal and began to see how beautiful and romantic carousels were and went to realizing that perhaps they were magical after all, but not because of going to another world but how they made you feel and the memories you could make with those who matter while on them.”

 You hadn’t meant to spill so much to him. Glancing at him, you tried not to cringe realizing his eyes were glued to you. However, the longer he stared at you the more you felt like jumping off the ride and running back to the maze of trees.

 “So how many memories have you made with those who matter on one of these?”

 You smirked then shrugged. “One or two.”

 His huff made you pinch your lips in an effort to not laugh. “Interesting.”

 Making your best innocent face, you turned the question back onto him. “

 “And you?”

 “I feel like you are the one who will laugh at me here.”

 “Why?”

 “Because this—this is the first carousel I have ridden with anyone—leisurely, well that was not family that is.

Your eyes widened. “Ever?”

 “Ever.”

 “Oh my goodness, Henry—am I your first?”

 His smile was mischievous. “It would appear so, Lady Thornton.”

 You bit your bottom lip then smiled widely. You didn’t know why you felt so prideful. It wasn’t like it was something that mattered or something that reflected on you in any possible way.

 “Well, you are my first prince in a magical fairytale country that I’ve been on one of these with,” you began pausing to contemplate if you should say the rest of the sentence.  “And this just may be my favorite ever.”

 His cheeks flamed and you couldn’t help but smile. Then when his smile stretched bigger than you’d seen, your heart couldn’t bare it. He was too damn cute.

 “Mine too,” Henry muttered a little above a whisper knowing that you’d catch it.

 If cloud nine was the highest point one’s spirit could reach you were ebbing onto cloud 10. There was no need to speak for the rest of the ride. You and Henry rode it once, then twice but neither of you seemed quite ready to get off. After a fourth go round, the two of you walked around the park taking in the different games and events that were scattered about. You’d wanted to try the skating rink but didn’t want to expose him to the eyes of everyone around due to the openness of the rink, so you opted for other lowkey options for entertainment. You chatted about a plethora of things never remining on any subject long because you had so much in common that always branched out to other topics.

When you saw the actual reindeers, you lost it and scurried over to pet and baby talk them. While they were massive, you couldn’t help but find them adorable. You fed one a carrot and squealed at how affectionate it was. When you turned to make a puppy face at Henry, you found him snapping pictures of you with his phone like it was the most natural thing in the world.

 At the urging of the reindeer master, you climbed into the sleigh that was decked out as if it truly were Santa’s sleigh and posed for the professional photos. As they snapped away you looked to Henry trying to coax him into the sleigh with you. It didn’t take long before he climbed in and smiled for the pictures with you. It felt normal to do this with him, normal to be around one another like this. A massive bubble in your chest screamed of caution and reservation so loudly that your head had no other choice but to register the warning.

 After a few more photos, McArthur motioned for Henry’s attention which had him jumping out of the sleigh and stepping off to the side where both of them spoke in hushed tones. You prepared to climb down from the sleigh but as you did you happened to glance off to the right where you saw Freddie watching you. The rage and hatred in her eyes could not be missed and for a second you panicked. When you saw her raise a gun in her hand, your eyes widened. Before you could make a noise or move, a loud “pop” echoed through the park. You fully expected to feel the pain of the bullet and braced yourself, unable to move.

 Instead, the pain never came. What did unfold was pure chaos. Several loud “neighs” boomed through the air then a forceful jerk. The action sent you hurling backward landing in a crumped heap on the seat of the sleigh. There were screams in the park and you watched the reindeers panic, colliding with each other as if they were fighting. Antlers thwacked together making it sound as if trees themselves were splintering around you. Henry made a move toward the sleigh but was stopped by his protective detail that was now circling him and locking him down, ready to take any stray bullet for him.

 Within seconds, the reindeer that was harnessed to the sleigh you were in took off.

 “Aaaaaaaaaaah!”

 With terror, you watched as the unmanned runaway sleigh bound across the park not caring where it went. Everywhere people dashed out of its way trying to save themselves. All you could do was watch from your scrunched position, holding on for dear life as you prayed this was not how you died.

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

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[msilwrites]

Sequel to: ASCENT - Defying Desire (ODD WOMEN Series) a 3AM update - SEVEN

A/N: In this chapter, we explore Henry's remarkable capabilities as a shrewd strategic executive and master manipulator.  Henry's effectiveness in achieving his goals is undeniable.  However, as the story unfolds, we also witness a satisfying wave of regret and realization washing over Henry.

Defying Desire

SEVEN

In a posh townhouse nestled within the city's bustling streets, Henry found himself lost in a sea of thoughts. The sleek and masculine interior of his abode mirrored his refined taste and style. With a glass of whisky in hand, he lounged in a plush chair, his mind consumed by memories of Sage. Regret weighed heavily on him as he replayed their past together. He had made a big mistake by ending their relationship, and now he longed to make things right.

The room was dimly lit, casting shadows across his face as he took a sip of the amber liquid. Thoughts of Sage overwhelmed him, igniting a fire in his heart. He couldn't help but recall the passion they once shared, longing to feel her touch and reconnect with her on a deep level.

Although the board members were impressed by his strategic partnership with the app, it was Sage who held the key to his happiness. The business stuff seemed less important compared to the prospect of having her back in his life.

Lost in his thoughts, Henry grew more determined. He knew pursuing a former lover who had blocked all communication was risky, but it only fueled his desire to win Sage back. It became a challenge, a chance to prove that their love was worth fighting for.

In his mind, he pictured their reunion—a spark of electric chemistry reigniting between them. Every touch and whispered word would carry the weight of their shared history. Henry yearned to apologize for the past, to show Sage how much he regretted his actions and convince her that he had truly changed.

As the whisky burned his throat, matching the fire inside him, Henry realized he had to tread carefully. He couldn't just rush back into Sage's life; he had to find a way to break through her barriers.

The strategic partnership with the app offered him an opportunity to reach out to Sage, to discuss the collaboration and the impact it could have on their lives. Ideas swirled in Henry's mind on how to subtly reconnect, to show Sage that his feelings were still strong.

With determination, he set his glass down and stood up. Walking towards the window, he admired the twinkling city lights. A steely resolve emanated from him as he silently promised himself to make things right. He would find a way to win back Sage's trust and reignite their once-burning flame.

Late into the night, Henry's excitement grew. The strategic partnership had opened a door, and now he had to face the challenges ahead. Every passing moment fueled his determination to execute his plan flawlessly and prove to Sage that their love was worth any risk or sacrifice.

In the solitude of his luxurious townhouse, Henry felt a renewed sense of purpose. The whisky coursing through his veins emboldened him, driving his pursuit of his desires. The calculated move he made during the board meeting went beyond business—it was a way to bring Sage back into his arms, where she truly belonged.

----------

Kieran sat across from Sage in the cozy afternoon lounge, their teacups steaming gently on the table. The delightful aroma of freshly baked desserts, coffee, and tea filled the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The red brick walls and brown wooden accents gave the place a touch of dark academia aesthetic, adding to its charm.

As Kieran recounted the events of the boardroom meeting, Sage listened attentively. She had already shared with him the fact that Henry was her ex-boyfriend, so Kieran was familiar with their history. Their friendship and collaboration had allowed for open and honest conversations between them.

Sage's eyes met Kieran's, a mix of curiosity and concern reflecting in her gaze. She knew the potential conflict of interest arising from Kieran acquiring her app for his own company while also being associated with the Havel Group as a non-executive director. The situation had taken an unexpected turn with Henry's objection and proposal to buy the app or form a partnership.

Setting her teacup down gently on the table, Sage leaned forward, her voice filled with a blend of sincerity and determination. "Kieran, I never expected this to become so complicated. I appreciate your support in acquiring my app, but I also understand the concerns raised by Henry and the board."

Sage leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Kieran's, her voice filled with urgency. "Kieran, please, if there's any way you can ensure that the app doesn't end up in Henry's possession, I would be forever grateful. I have a suspicion that he's trying to use this as a way to force me to communicate with him again, and I can't allow that to happen. I've blocked him from all my channels for a reason, and I want to maintain my distance. I know it might sound presumptuous, but I've known Henry for a long time, and I can't shake the feeling that he's trying to manipulate the situation to his advantage."

Kieran nodded, understanding the gravity of Sage's words. "Sage, I trust your instincts, and I know you have a deep understanding of Henry's character. We shouldn't underestimate his determination and the lengths he might go to achieve his goals. Rest assured, I'll do everything in my power to keep the app out of his hands and protect you from any unwanted interactions.”

Sage's shoulders relaxed, a sense of relief washing over her. She appreciated Kieran's support and belief in her judgment. "Thank you, Kieran. It means a lot to have someone who understands and stands by me."

----------

As Kieran's Rolls Royce pulled up in front of the office building at Canary Wharf, Sage's attention shifted from the familiar surroundings to the task at hand. Stepping out of the car with purpose, she strode alongside Kieran towards the elevator, her mind focused on the upcoming boardroom meeting.

Navigating the bustling lobby with ease, Sage's determination propelled her forward. She had been to this building before, familiar with its polished halls and bustling energy. Canary Wharf was not uncharted territory for her.

Entering the elevator, Sage exchanged a knowing glance with Kieran, their shared determination palpable. They had meticulously prepared for this moment, ensuring their presentation was strong and persuasive. The ride up to the designated floor was filled with a sense of anticipation, their focus honed on making a compelling case.

As the elevator doors opened, Sage was greeted by Simon, Henry's older brother and the leader of the Havel Group. A warm smile spread across Simon's face as he approached her, enveloping her in a genuine hug. "Sage, it's so good to see you. How have you been?" he asked, a touch of surprise in his voice. "I didn't realize you were behind this app until today"

Sage returned the hug, appreciating the warmth and genuine concern from Henry's brother. "Thank you, Simon," she replied with a soft smile. "I've been well”

As they walked down the corridor towards the boardroom, Simon expressed his eagerness to hear Sage's explanation about the app. He emphasized the importance of her addressing the board directly to ensure a clear understanding of the app's purpose and its compatibility with the Havel Group's businesses.

Entering the boardroom, Sage took her seat at the table, surrounded by the familiar faces of the board members. Among them were Henry's brothers, who held executive positions within the Havel Group. As she looked around, she noticed their smiles of recognition, accompanied by a warmth that conveyed a sense of familiarity and fondness.

Sage met their gazes, returning their smiles with a nod of acknowledgement. Despite the complexities of her past with Henry, it seemed that his brothers still held a level of respect and appreciation for her. It was a reassuring reminder that she had made a positive impression on them during her time with Henry.

With unwavering conviction, Sage highlighted the app's potential to revolutionize the industry and create new opportunities for growth. She stressed that by allowing Kieran's company to maintain ownership and control over the app, it would be able to flourish independently, fostering innovation and agility.

Furthermore, Sage outlined the potential risks and challenges that could arise from integrating the app into the Havel Group. She emphasized the importance of preserving the app's brand identity and user experience, which could be compromised if it became just another division of the conglomerate.

Drawing upon her own experiences as the app's creator and the deep understanding she had gained from working closely with Kieran, Sage eloquently expressed her belief that the best path forward was to allow Kieran's company to continue nurturing and developing the app independently. She emphasized that this would ensure the app's continued success and allow it to reach its full potential.

As Sage concluded her presentation, there was a moment of contemplative silence in the boardroom. The board members exchanged glances, processing the weight of Sage's arguments. Her passion and persuasive delivery had made an impact, causing them to rethink the initial assumption of absorbing the app into the Havel Group.

Henry's voice broke the silence, his tone brimming with confidence. "I understand Sage's concerns, but I believe we should view this app as an incredible asset for the Havel Group," he proclaimed, capturing the attention of the board members.

Henry proceeded to outline his vision for incorporating the app into the company, highlighting the potential benefits it could bring. He argued that by embracing the app's community platform, the Havel Group could expand its offerings, attract new customers, and enhance its overall retail experience.

Sage's heart sank as she listened to Henry's counterarguments. She knew that her app was not meant to compete with the Havel Group's existing retail business. It served as a platform for individuals to buy and sell a wide range of items and services, catering to a different market segment altogether.

Summoning her courage, Sage raised her hand, signaling her desire to respond. All eyes turned back to her, awaiting her rebuttal.

"Sage," Henry interjected, his voice laced with concern and authority, "I appreciate your dedication to the app, but I genuinely believe that it can thrive within the Havel Group. We can leverage our brand reputation and resources to take it to new heights."

Sage locked eyes with Henry, firm in her convictions. "Henry, I understand your perspective, but it's important to recognize that my app doesn't pose a direct threat to the Havel Group's retail business. It operates in a different space, empowering individuals to engage in peer-to-peer transactions and services."

She continued, eloquently explaining the potential risks of integrating the app into the Havel Group. "By aligning the app with a luxury-focused brand, we run the risk of diluting its unique identity. Users value the app for its inclusive nature and its ability to cater to a wide range of needs and budgets. Merging it with the Havel Group could compromise that appeal."

Sage went on to emphasize the importance of maintaining the app's independent image and allowing it to grow organically within its own niche. She painted a vivid picture of how integration could blur its purpose and alienate its loyal user base.

As Sage finished speaking, a charged silence filled the boardroom. The board members exchanged contemplative glances, grappling with the decision at hand. They now had to weigh the allure of Henry's proposal against Sage's compelling arguments for preserving the app's integrity and unique market positioning

The boardroom fell into a hushed pause as the members took a break to deliberate on the weighty decision before them. Sensing the tension in the room, Kieran rose from his seat, gesturing for Sage to join him outside. They stepped out into the hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly.

Sage looked at Kieran, a mix of hope and concern in her eyes. "Kieran, if the board decides to go with the Havel Group, is there any way you can ensure that the app doesn't end up in Henry's hands? I know we have a partnership on the table, but I worry about the consequences if he gains control over it. As a non-executive director, do you have the power or influence to prevent that? Also, I mentioned before, I have a suspicion that he's using this situation to manipulate me into communicating with him again, and I can't allow that to happen. I've blocked him from all my channels for a reason, and I want to maintain my distance."

He took a reassuring step closer, his voice filled with determination. "I get it, Sage. I'll do everything I can to prevent the app from falling into Henry's hands. I may not have full control, but I'll use my influence and connections to find a solution. You won't be forced into any unwanted communication. I'll prioritize your well-being and protect the app's vision."

Sage felt relieved, a small smile forming on her face. "Thank you, Kieran. I trust you to do your best. Let's present our case with strength, and no matter what happens, we'll find a way to keep the app with someone who respects its purpose and my boundaries."

Encouraged by their shared determination, they returned to the boardroom, ready to make their final stand.

----------

As the discussion resumed, the board members deliberated on the future of the app. After careful consideration, they reached a consensus—the Havel Group would acquire the app from Kieran at a substantial price as compensation for his company's efforts and resources invested in its development.

Sage listened to the decision, her heart pounding with mixed emotions. On one hand, she was relieved that the app would not fall into Henry's hands, ensuring her continued distance from him. However, as she contemplated the outcome, a tinge of sadness washed over her. It wasn't the prospect of parting ways with the app itself that saddened her, but rather the possibility of not working closely with Kieran in integrating the app with his company.

Over time, Sage had formed a strong bond with Kieran, appreciating his dedication, support, and shared vision for the app. They had become a formidable team, and the idea of not collaborating further with him felt like a missed opportunity. Their partnership had propelled the app's success, and the thought of not continuing that journey together left a void in her heart.

As she processed these emotions, Sage reminded herself of the bigger picture. The decision to join forces with the Havel Group brought numerous advantages and opportunities for growth. She understood that this collaboration would open doors to new resources, expertise, and a larger user base. It was a chance to take the app to new heights and make an even greater impact.

Still, she couldn't help but feel a sense of loss mingled with anticipation. It was a bittersweet realization that change was inevitable, and that she would have to adapt to a new dynamic. But deep down, Sage held onto the hope that her journey with Kieran and the app was merely taking a different path—one that would lead to even greater achievements and fulfillment.

Kieran turned to Sage, his expression a mix of understanding and resolve. Sensing the weight of the decision, he guided her to a quiet corner of the boardroom, away from the prying eyes and eager voices.

"Sage," Kieran began, his tone gentle yet resolute, "they've agreed to buy the app from me at a high price. It's a significant compensation, and it ensures that the app won't be under Henry's control. I believe this is the best course of action to protect your boundaries and the app's integrity. What do you think?"

Sage looked into Kieran's eyes, appreciating his concern and the trust he had placed in her. Her mind raced with thoughts and emotions, torn between holding onto something she had poured her heart into and the need to protect herself from Henry's influence.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she opened them, a sense of clarity washed over her. She knew deep down that Kieran's proposal was the practical and wise choice.

"Kieran," Sage said, her voice steady, "If you believe this is the best way forward, then I trust your judgment. Let's proceed with the sale and ensure that the app continues to thrive under new ownership. I understand the importance of protecting myself and the app's integrity."

Kieran nodded, a hint of relief in his eyes. and then he took her hand in his, offering a reassuring squeeze.  "Sage, I want to reiterate my promise to you. I will go above and beyond to protect you from any unwanted interactions with Henry," he declared, his voice filled with resolve. "I understand how important maintaining your boundaries is, and I'll do everything within my power to ensure your safety and well-being." 

Sage felt a rush of gratitude and relief wash over her, knowing that Kieran was resolute in his pledge to shield her from any discomfort. She appreciated his genuine concern and the weight of his words, knowing that he truly had her best interests at heart.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Sage's lips as she met Kieran's gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and trust. "Thank you, Kieran," she replied, her voice soft yet filled with appreciation.

Returning to the boardroom, Kieran and Sage took their seats, their minds still processing the weight of the decision that had just been made. The air was filled with anticipation as Simon Havel, the chairman of the Havel Group, stood up once again, commanding everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Simon began, his voice commanding yet filled with warmth, "I want to express my gratitude to Kieran and Sage for their willingness to work with us on this matter. We recognize the value of the app and the expertise that Sage brings to the table."

He turned his gaze towards Sage, his eyes conveying a sense of respect and admiration. "Sage, we would like to offer you a position as a consultant, working closely with a team from the Havel Group. Your role will be crucial in ensuring a seamless transition as the app is integrated into our operations."

Simon paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "Rest assured, Sage, you will be compensated generously for your contributions, both as the app's designer and developer, and as a valuable consultant during this process. Your expertise and insights will be invaluable in ensuring the success of the app within the Havel Group."

Sage listened intently, a mix of emotions swirling within her. The opportunity to continue working with the app, even in a different capacity, excited her. It meant she could still contribute to its growth and see her creation flourish. At the same time, she felt a sense of validation in being recognized for her skills and expertise.

She glanced at Kieran, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. This was the best outcome they could have hoped for—a way to protect the app's integrity and her own boundaries while still staying involved in its journey.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Sage turned her attention back to Simon. "Thank you, Simon. I appreciate the offer and the opportunity to continue working with the app. I’ll do my very best to ensure a smooth transition, and support the apps integration into Havel group"

Simon nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Excellent. We look forward to having you on board, Sage. Let's work together to make this a mutually beneficial partnership."

As the meeting continued, discussions shifted towards the logistical aspects of the app's transfer and the collaborative efforts that would be required to integrate it successfully. 

As the discussions in the boardroom delved into the intricate details of the app's transfer, Henry's mind churned with a mix of ambition and determination. A cunning smile played at the corners of his lips, a telltale sign of the strategizing taking place within.

His gaze repeatedly drifted towards Sage, an unmistakable glint of longing and mischief hidden behind his eyes. Unbeknownst to Sage, Henry couldn't help but steal glances, his mind silently concocting plans on how to once again bring the project under his control.

While the room buzzed with logistical considerations, Henry's attention remained fixated on Sage. Memories of their shared past danced at the edges of his consciousness, fueling his desire to reconnect with her on both a personal and professional level.

However, as the discussion continued, Henry knew he had to bide his time. The Havel Group's acquisition of the app had set the stage for his eventual involvement, but he had to tread carefully to win back Sage's trust. He understood the importance of patience and subtlety, realizing that rushing in would only risk pushing her further away.

And so, with a mask of professionalism and a heart brimming with hidden intentions, Henry kept his glances fleeting, concealing his true motives for now. The allure of Sage and the potential of reclaiming the project were challenges he relished, and he was determined to seize the opportunity when the time was right.

Unbeknownst to Sage, a subtle dance of calculated maneuvers had begun, as Henry plotted his next move in the intricate game of winning her back.

Careful not to reveal his true intentions, Henry maintained a facade of cooperation and enthusiasm during the discussions. He skillfully inserted comments and suggestions that subtly positioned him as the ideal candidate to oversee the app's integration. His past accomplishments within the Havel Group and his familiarity with its operations served as a compelling argument for why he should take charge.

In private, Henry planned further, contemplating the steps necessary to win over the key decision-makers. He identified the individuals whose support he needed and crafted tailored approaches to sway them to his side. With every move, he carefully maneuvered, weaving a web of influence and manipulation to ensure that the app would fall into his hands.

--------

After the initial board meeting, Kieran and Simon Havel quickly arranged another meeting to introduce Aria Hayes as the new director for the app project. Two days later, everyone gathered in the boardroom, feeling a mix of anticipation and curiosity.

Simon Havel entered the room with a confident stride, followed closely by a poised and determined Aria Hayes. Sage's eyes met Aria's, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of reassurance and respect emanating from the new director.

"Thank you all for joining us today," Simon began, his voice carrying a tone of significance. "As we discussed in our previous meeting, we have appointed Aria Hayes to oversee the app project. Aria brings a wealth of experience and expertise to this role, and we believe she is the ideal candidate to guide the project forward."

Aria smiled at the team, her eyes filled with determination. "Hey, everyone! I'm really excited to be here. I've seen what you've accomplished so far, and I can't wait to work with all of you to take this app to the next level."

Kieran stepped forward, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I've had the pleasure of working with Aria before, and let me tell you, she's a good manager. With her in charge, you’re in good hands."

Sage felt a wave of relief. She spoke up, her voice genuine and appreciative. "Thank you, Aria. It means a lot to have you on board. I'm confident that together, we'll make this app a huge success."

With the introductions done, the team left the boardroom, feeling motivated. Unbeknownst to them, Henry had been silently observing, waiting for his moment to make his move.

----------

Under Aria's capable leadership, the team meetings and integration of the app progressed smoothly. Her management style impressed the team, earning their respect and trust. They worked together seamlessly, addressing any challenges that arose.

Sage, still involved in the project's integration, visited the office twice a week to ensure everything was on track and manage her part. The team collaborated closely, discussing and implementing new features and upgrades that would enhance the app's value for the next update.

One evening, the team decided to have a casual dinner at the office. They ordered takeout and gathered around a long table, enjoying the meal together. Laughter filled the room as they shared stories and celebrated their progress. The camaraderie among the team members was evident, fostering a positive and supportive work environment.

Unbeknownst to them, Henry, driven by his own hidden agenda, had been covertly observing their interactions. From a distance, he watched as they enjoyed their dinner, unaware of the plans he was formulating in the shadows. His gaze lingered on Sage, his mind filled with manipulative schemes to disrupt and seize control of the project.

----------

As Sage gathered the empty takeout containers into a trash bag, she realized she was the last one left in the meeting room. Aria had been called for an urgent online meeting and had hurriedly left, not noticing the time. The rest of the team had promised to take turns cleaning up, but Sage insisted it was no trouble and encouraged Aria to attend her meeting.

Carrying the bag of trash, Sage made her way towards the pantry. The office was now eerily quiet, with only a few executives scattered about, engrossed in their work. Unbeknownst to her, Henry was among them, lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to make his move.

As Sage entered the pantry, she was momentarily startled to find Henry standing there, seemingly by chance. A sense of unease washed over her, but she maintained her composure, reminding herself to stay vigilant. She had learned to trust her instincts when it came to Henry's intentions.

"Henry," Sage greeted him with a polite nod, keeping a safe distance. "What brings you here?"

Henry took a sip from his tea cup, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Ah, Sage, my dear. I work here, remember?" he replied with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Sage raised an eyebrow, not easily swayed by his charm. "Yes, Henry, I'm aware of that. I meant, what specifically brings you to the pantry at this moment?"

Henry chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. "Well, Sage, it's a rather revolutionary concept I discovered. They call it 'taking a break.' A remarkable practice that involves momentarily escaping the clutches of work to indulge in some tea and solitude."

Sage arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Tea in the pantry, Henry? That's an interesting choice."

Henry leaned against the pantry shelves, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ah, the pantry, the perfect spot for a break! It's where we escape from work for a moment, sip some tea, and grab a snack. You see, Sage, that's what the pantry is all about."

Sage chuckled, realizing the straightforwardness of Henry's response. "You're right, Henry. The pantry is meant for taking a breather and enjoying a refreshment."

Henry raised his tea cup, emphasizing his point. "Exactly! It's a place of respite where tea and snacks become our allies against stress. So, here I am, embracing the true purpose of the pantry."

Sage nodded, a smile on her face. "Well, in that case, I won't disturb your break any longer. Enjoy your time in the pantry, Henry."

Henry smirked, taking another sip of his tea. "Thank you, Sage. And remember, when you need a break, the pantry is always waiting for you.”

With a nod and a friendly smile, Sage left the pantry, amused by Henry's direct reminder of the pantry's true purpose as a space for snacks and taking breaks.

----------

After a long and exhausting day at work, Sage decides to treat herself to a well-deserved drink at a nearby upscale bar. She enters the establishment, appreciating the sophisticated ambiance and cozy atmosphere. She finds a comfortable booth and settles in, ordering a refreshing Magners cider and a couple of light beers, including a Stella Artois.

As she sips her drink, her mind drifts to thoughts of her work progress and the desire to eventually move on from the Havel Group. Lost in her contemplation, Sage is suddenly pulled out of her reverie by the appearance of Henry, who takes a seat across from her at the booth. She looks up, her expression shifting to one of cautious defensiveness.

Her guard up, Sage questions Henry's presence. "What are you doing here, Henry?" she asks, a touch of suspicion lacing her words.

Henry leans back, a casual smile on his face. "Ah, Sage, what a delightful surprise. Just enjoying my usual haunt, as it happens to be nearby," he replies, his tone laced with nonchalance.

Sage's eyes narrow slightly, not fully convinced by his explanation. "Your usual haunt, huh? Funny how we seem to keep running into each other."

Henry raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting to a more matter-of-fact demeanor. "Yes, Sage, quite intriguing indeed. You see, this particular establishment happens to be the nearest pub to our workplace. It's merely a matter of proximity and practicality."

Sage's mind acknowledges the sense in Henry's explanation, but a hint of doubt still lingers. She can't help but feel there may be more to his presence than mere coincidence. The way he effortlessly rationalizes it leaves her speechless.

As Sage takes a sip from her pint, contemplating her next move, Henry suddenly reaches out to grab her car keys from the table. Startled, Sage looks at him questioningly.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asks, her tone tinged with both surprise and suspicion.

Henry shrugs, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. "I can't let you drink and drive, can I? Safety first, Sage."

Sage chuckles, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Oh, how thoughtful of you, Henry. But let me remind you that you're here to enjoy your evening, not play the responsible driver."

Henry's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Ah, you've got me there. I suppose I haven't started drinking yet. But don't worry, I'll hold onto your car keys just in case."

Sage stares at him for a moment, a mix of amusement and disbelief crossing her face. "Fine, if it makes you feel better. You can have my car keys. Just promise not to drive my car into any mischief, Henry."

Henry raises his hand, as if taking an oath. "I solemnly swear not to drive your car into any mischief, Sage. Your keys are safe with me."

With a smile and a shake of her head, Sage finishes her pint in one go and stands up. "Well, in that case, enjoy your evening, Henry. Don't get into too much trouble."

Henry grins, holding up Sage's car keys triumphantly. "No promises, Sage. Have a good night!"

As Sage walks away, she can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Henry's playful antics always manage to catch her off guard.

Inside the pub, Henry watches Sage through the window glass, expecting her to put up a fight for her car keys. However, to his surprise, she doesn't. Instead, she calmly walks away, leaving him puzzled.

Curiosity gets the better of him as he continues to observe her. His eyes widen in disbelief when he sees Sage walk to her car and retrieve a spare set of keys from her bag. She effortlessly unlocks the car, and a realization dawns upon Henry. His assumption was correct all along.

A surge of urgency fills Henry as he realizes he needs to act quickly. He springs into action, his mind racing to catch up with the situation unfolding before him. He rushes out of the pub, determined to catch up with Sage before she drives away.

From the corner of her eye, Sage notices Henry's hurried departure from the pub. A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she believes she has outsmarted him. With a sense of satisfaction, she locks the car doors using the interior locking mechanism and starts the engine, ready to drive off.

As Henry reaches the car, he notices Sage's smile and her deliberate ignorance of his presence. Undeterred, he knocks on the window, gesturing for her to open the door. Sage maintains her playful demeanor, continuing to smile and pretending not to hear him.

Little does Sage know, she has forgotten one crucial detail. Henry holds her other set of car keys in his hand. With a smirk on his face, he presses the unlock button on the key, sending a signal to Sage's car. To her surprise, she hears the familiar sound of the car doors unlocking.

Her triumphant expression quickly fades into a sigh of defeat as Henry opens the passenger door and smoothly slides into the passenger seat. Sage glances at him, a mixture of annoyance and amusement in her eyes. It seems her attempt to outmaneuver him has once again fallen short. Sage lets out a sigh, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "You always find a way, don't you, Henry?"

Sage lets out a tired sigh, leaning against her steering wheel as she looks at Henry, who is sitting comfortably in the passenger seat with a mischievous grin on his face. She raises an eyebrow and asks, "Alright, Henry, what do you want now?"

Henry's playful expression softens, replaced by a more serious demeanor. "Sage, all I want is for you to be safe. You've had a few pints, and it's not a good idea to drive in that state. Let me give you a ride home."

Sage lets out another sigh, her voice tinged with frustration. "Henry, if I were to give you what you want, sleep with you? would you finally leave me alone? Is that all this is about?"

Henry's expression turns somber as he registers her words, a mixture of hurt and longing in his eyes. "Sage, it's not just about that. I know I've made mistakes, but I want more than just a physical connection with you. I want you back in my life, not just as a passing flame , but to rebuild what we had. I want you back in every way possible."

Sage's chuckle escapes her lips, laced with a mixture of bitterness and understanding. She looks directly into Henry's eyes, her gaze unwavering. "You know, Henry, when I visited Thailand a few weeks back, I went to the temple to meet with an old sixth form classmate who was serving as a monk at that time. In the serene halls of a temple, he shared profound wisdom with me."

Henry leans in closer, captivated by Sage's story and the depth of her emotions.

Sage's voice quivers with a newfound clarity, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. "He told me something that struck me to my core, Henry. He said, 'Before you tear yourself apart, take a piercing look at those you choose to keep close.' And in that moment, the truth unfolded before me like a devastating revelation. Henry... in that moment, I realized that you were a significant part of the pain and insecurity I experienced."

Henry's face pales as the impact of Sage's words hits him with full force. The realization dawns on him, a crushing weight settling upon his shoulders. He reaches out, his voice choked with regret. "Sage, I never meant to be the source of your pain. I never wanted to be the cause of your insecurity."

Sage's eyes glisten with unshed tears, a mix of sadness and resignation etched across her face. "But you were, Henry. You were the one who held the power to shatter my confidence and break my spirit.”  She pauses, her gaze piercing through him. " Yes you never cheated on me, but you tried to mold me into what you wanted, Henry. And when I refused to yield, you resorted to manipulative tactics to get me to do your bidding. You enjoyed making me jealous, playing with my emotions. And I can't bear to be caught in that web of uncertainty any longer. "

Her words hang in the air, the weight of truth finally spoken. Sage waits, hoping that her words will finally penetrate the layers of Henry's self-serving facade and make him realize the impact of his actions.

Henry's eyes widen as the weight of his actions sinks in. His lips part, searching for the right words to defend himself, but they fail him. He realizes now the damage he has caused, the pain he has inflicted, not through physical betrayal, but through emotional manipulation.

"I never meant for it to go this far, Sage," Henry finally manages to whisper, his voice laced with regret. "I thought I could keep you close by doing what I do, but I do see now how misguided and hurtful it was."

Sage's eyes shimmer with a mix of sadness and frustration. "Henry, love should never be a game. It should never be about making someone feel inadequate or insecure. It should be about trust, respect, and building each other up. I deserve better than this constant cycle of manipulation."

In that moment, the realization of their toxic dance settles upon them, a bittersweet recognition that they can no longer continue down this destructive path.

Sage's voice quivers as she takes a deep breath, her emotions palpable. "Henry... I've let you go, just like you wanted before. It's time for you to do the same for me." Her words hang in the air, heavy with finality and a tinge of sadness.

Henry's heart sinks at the realization of his own role in their breakup. The memory of that conversation, when he asked for the separation and suggested they explore other possibilities, resurfaces with a pang of regret. He never anticipated the depth of his feelings and the void that would consume him in her absence.

Henry's heart sinks at the thought of losing her. Memories of their shared adventures, the moments of joy and connection they once had flood his mind. He remembers the worry that consumed him when she embarked on her dangerous expedition to the summit of Mount Everest, how he yearned for her safety and well-being. The months without her presence, her deliberate blocking of him in every channel, had been excruciatingly difficult.

He buried himself in work, trying to distract himself from the void she left behind. He sought solace in the allure of freedom, parties, and the temporary flings with other women. But as time passed, the emptiness grew, and he realized that he couldn't let her go. Not without a fight.

Henry's voice cracks as he tries to articulate the depth of his regret. " I... I never expected it to be like this. I never realized how much I would miss you, how much I need you in my life. Please, give me another chance. I've learned my lesson in the hardest way possible. I've come to realize that I never wanted anyone else. It's always been you, even when I couldn't see it clearly. Please, don't give up on us just yet."

Sage gazes at him, torn between the pain of the past and the lingering love she still holds for him. She sees the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine remorse etched on his face. A part of her yearns to believe in the possibility of redemption and growth.

But another part of her fears the cycle repeating, the old patterns resurfacing. She takes a moment to collect herself, her voice soft but resolute. "Henry, I appreciate your honesty and the growth you've shown in recognizing your mistakes. But love is not just about the depth of feelings; it's about compatibility, trust, and mutual respect. The patterns that emerged in our relationship showed me that our needs and desires were not aligning. I don't need you to change who you are, but I do need a relationship that fulfills me in the ways I deserve."

She pauses, searching for the right words to convey her innermost sentiments. "I felt used, like a toy being played with, manipulated to fulfill your desires. And love should never make one feel that way. I don't want to resent you or view you as an enemy. Instead, I want to find a way to love you from afar, to wish you all the best, and to move forward in my own journey without holding onto the pain and resentment that clouded our relationship."

"Henry, I do care about you, and a part of me will always cherish what we shared. But I also know that I deserve a love that uplifts me and allows me to be my authentic self. And I hope you can find the same for yourself."

Henry's world shatters as Sage's words sink in. He realizes, with a heavy heart, that he has been madly in love with her all this time, but it's a realization that comes too late. The depth of his feelings for her hits him like a wave of regret, and he can't bear the thought of a life without her.

His voice quivers as he bares his soul, "Sage, I have to confess... I've been in love with you all along. Losing you has made me see how much I truly need you in my life."

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he continues, his voice filled with raw vulnerability,  "I can't change what has happened, and I can't undo the mistakes I've made. But if you can find it in your heart to give us another chance, I promise to spend every moment making it right. "

Henry leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper, "I know I messed up, and I can't guarantee that I won't stumble again. But if you're willing, I'll love you with everything I have. I'll be devoted to you, I -” 

Sage's looks away, heart aches as she witnesses the raw vulnerability in Henry's words and expression. Part of her longs to give in, to believe in the possibility of a renewed love. But her obstinacy remains resolute, a shield protecting her wounded heart.

She avoids meeting his gaze, her eyes fixed on the unmoving scenery outside the car. The weight of silence fills the space between them, the unspoken  tension hanging heavy in the air. Sage takes a deep breath, gathering her strength.

"Henry," she says softly, her voice tinged with a mix of sadness and determination,  "Could please return my spare car keys," Without another word, Sage extends her hand, silently asking for her car keys back.

Henry's face falls, a mixture of resignation and heartache evident in his eyes. He reluctantly retrieves the spare car keys from his pocket, placing them in her outstretched hand. Their fingers brush briefly, a lingering touch that carries a world of unsaid emotions.

"Sage," Henry says, his voice filled with genuine worry, "I can't let you drive in this state. It's not safe. Let me take you home."

Sage chuckles weakly, shaking her head. "Have I not made myself clear, Henry? I appreciate your concern, but I'll manage. Please respect my decision."

Understanding dawns in Henry's eyes as he recognizes the importance of honoring her wishes. Reluctantly, he retracts the spare car keys, realizing that pushing her further would only cause more harm. He reaches for his phone instead.

"I may not have given up, Sage," Henry says quietly, his voice filled with a mix of determination and concern, "but what matters most to me right now is your safety. I'll call my personal chauffeur to drive you home in your car. Please accept this gesture, for your own well-being."

Sage looks at him, her expression softened by his genuine care. After a brief moment of consideration, she nods in agreement. Henry swiftly makes the call,  providing the necessary instructions to his chauffeur, and within minutes, his chauffeur arrives.

As the chauffeur approaches, Henry and Sage gets out her car. He opens the door of the passenger seat behind for her, a small gesture of care, and motioned for her to take the passenger seat in the back. Without a word, Sage gets in, her gaze fixed straight ahead.

Henry's heart breaks as he watches her retreat into the car, knowing that he must let her go for now. However, a flicker of hope remains within him, refusing to extinguish. He hasn't given up yet. As the chauffeur takes his position in the driver's seat and starts the engine, Henry's eyes meet Sage's.

Henry leans in, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, his voice laced with unspoken longing. "Please take care, Sage," Henry says softly, his eyes locked with hers,

Sage offers him a faint smile, a mix of gratitude and sadness. "Thank you, Henry," she says, her voice filled with a touch of vulnerability. "I appreciate your concern."

Henry watches, his heart heavy with emotions, as the car begins to pull away. His gaze lingers on Sage until her car disappears into the distance. 

A/N: In this chapter, we get to see just how determined and strong-willed Sage is. Her unwavering resolve and shining backbone leave us in awe of her character. And let's not forget about Henry! It's quite satisfying to witness him finally realizing his biggest mistake. But hey, I know some of you might be thinking, "Why can't she just forgive him already?" Well, I'm all for a good life lesson here. We want Henry to truly learn from his errors and grow as a person, don't we? Remember, regret can be a tough pill to swallow, but it plays a crucial part in Henry's personal journey. Let's keep rooting for both of them, knowing that growth and redemption often come hand in hand.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill Imagines #Henry Cavill AU #AU Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill Fan Fic #Henry Cavill FanFic #Henry Cavill Fan Fiction #Henry Cavill FanFiction #Henry Cavill x OC #Henry Cavill x OFC #Original Character #Alternate Universe #Odd Women #Odd Women Series #MSILWRITES #Strong Female Lead #Female Lead with a backbone! #Mads Mikkelsen #Mads Mikkelsen Fan Fic #Mads Mikkelsen FanFic #Mads Mikkelsen x OC #Mads Mikkelsen x OFC #Mads Mikkelsen x Reader #Matthias Schoenaerts

[poledancingdinos]

Second Chance

Pairing: Charles Brandon X OFC (Emily)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Angst, forbidden love and some long awaited smut

A/N: This is it, the final part. I hope it meets all of your expectations. If you haven’t read my Charles Brandon Modern AU yet, find them here : Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Emily watched the droplets of rain drip down the train’s window as it pulled into the Paddington station platform before coming to a slow stop. A muffled voice called the name of the station over the intercom, signaling it was time for Emily to stand.

She collected her bag and followed the throng of people down onto the busy platform. She’d steadfastly avoided the big city since moving to Somerset. Had it not been for the fact that her brother all but demanded her presence, she wouldn’t have even considered it.

“Emily, dear, it’s been too long,” her mother called as she approached the waiting car. She let herself be pulled into the embrace, feeling no warmth at all from the older woman. Shouldn’t a hug from one’s mother feel at least a little comforting? Charles’ mother had once scratched her bag during a meal between the two families and the sensation had almost made her melt right there in the chair. No, she shouldn’t be thinking about him, not if she was going to get through the next forty-eight hours.

“I’ve been busy with my new job,” Emily argued, sliding into the backseat of the car.

“I don’t see how your job could have kept you that busy, you’re just an administrative assistant.”

Ten seconds in her mother’s presence was all that was necessary to remind her why she hadn’t returned any of her phone calls in the last months.

“Anyhow, you’re here now. I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t brought a garment bag. What are you going to wear to the wedding tomorrow?”

“I have a dress in my bag.”

Her mother turned to her, a look of utter mortification and disgust on her face. “I will not have my daughter wear some Primark dress to her brother’s wedding.”

She leaned forward, instructing the driver to take them to one of her favored luxury dress shops. Emily wasn’t even offended by the comment, having grown immune to them after a lifetime of receiving casual insults.

“I’m not letting you buy me a dress that costs three months of my wages.”

Surely that money could be donated to charity rather than being spent on a dress that would most likely end up collecting dust because she had no appropriate occasion to wear it again. Maybe she could wear it while she did the dishes like Monica from “Friends” had done with that wedding dress.

“Your brother insisted on having you at his wedding. I would have been satisfied making up some excuse about you being away on business but since you are going to be present, you will not embarrass your father and me.”

Emily went along with the shopping trip, if only to avoid having to waste her time and energy arguing with her mother. The faster this wedding was over, the faster she could run back to her quiet life away from the drama.

“Are we meeting Henry for dinner?” Emily asked once they’d returned to the car with two different dresses packed in the garment bags her mother cared about so deeply. She had a sneaking suspicion that the second dress her mother had insisted on buying was not simply due to the desire to spoil her daughter.

“Yes, we’ve made reservations at the hotel. You will have an hour to wash up. Make sure you look presentable, the Howards will be there.”

Emily hummed in acknowledgment, not bothering to point out that her mother didn’t  seem as excited at the prospect of her eldest child getting married as she was at having the opportunity to rub elbows with her future daughter-in-laws wealthy parents.

The entire floor of the hotel had been reserved for the wedding guests and a few familiar faces nodded in greeting as she walked down the hall to her room. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of polite yet exceedingly boring small talk. Whenever the subject drifted to her job, her father would interrupt by suggesting another round of drinks or boasting about his various business dealings.

After she was finally able to escape, she all but collapsed from exhaustion. Holding up appearances was no easy feat and if she was to repeat the same process the next day, she would need to be well rested.

Charles went through a mental checklist of all his responsibilities as the groom’s best man. At the top of the list was making sure Henry didn’t pack up and run but as soon as Charles had seen her, he’d had to make sure it wasn’t him who ran out of the church.

Of course she would be there, she was the groom’s sister after all, but even so, he’d never let himself believe she would actually come. He couldn’t remember a word of his best friend’s vows, his entire focus being consumed by Emily.

She, however, hadn’t so much as looked at him which he knew was intentional. If she’d been indifferent to his presence, there would be the occasional accidental glance his way as her eyes flickered around the room. Instead, Emily kept her eyes forward. They never strayed from her brother and his bride except when she was spoken to.

She looked breathtaking. The dress she wore was elegant, hugging her form without ever exposing too much. He had a feeling it was her mother’s choice rather than her own. Emily favored darker colors, but the dress she wore now was a pastel color he’d once heard her call “snot green”.

After Emily moved away, he’d caved to one of Henry’s numerous invitations. With their history, staying away was more suspicious than anything anyway and he’d come to miss his closest friend. He’d only agreed to stay away from them both to respect Emily’s wishes.

“Brandon.” Henry’s voice pulled the young man from his thoughts. Henry put a hand on his shoulder leaning in close to Charles’ ear so as to avoid being overheard. ”Do me a favor and dance with my sister. My father needs us to look like a happy little family and her sulking in a corner is not good for business. Turn on the charm and, for God’s sake, make her smile.”

Charles didn’t hesitate, rising from his seat as soon as Henry stepped away. He crossed the room quickly, afraid that Emily would run if she saw him approach. He dropped down into the seat on her left, placing himself between her and the room.

“Aren’t you afraid that my brother will get upset to see you talking to me? Doesn’t that break some sort of male friendship rule?”

“He was the one who suggested I ask you to dance.”

Emily looked over Charles’ shoulder to find her brother giving her a pointed look.

“Is that all he suggested?”

“He may have said I should charm you into smiling.”

Emily scoffed, shaking her head. “You do know my brother just pimped you out for my father’s benefit.”

Charles took a deep breath, letting it out in a slow sigh as he leaned forward. Request from her brother or not, he was given a unique opportunity and he was not going to waste it. “Or, maybe, this is a chance for us to have that date I suggested five years ago.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. She didn’t like the way the small hint of his cologne had caused butterflies to form in the pit of her stomach.

“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” she teased, hiding her nerves behind a bit of cheek.

Charles swallowed, catching hold of Emily’s hand and brushing his thumb on her knuckles. “Only if you haven’t been thinking of me the same way I’ve been thinking of you.”

Emily’s breath hitched, looking down at where Charles’ touch sent sparks up through her entire body. “And why would you think that I have?” The cracking in her voice made her false indifference much less convincing.

He moved even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke his next words. “Because every time I’ve thought back to that night, I remembered the way you looked at me. And I dare think it was more than just lust.”

Maybe it was unwise to bring up such a topic during the first conversation they’d had in half a decade, but he’d waited long enough. He pulled back just enough to see her expression shift to a familiar softness.

“Yeah, just like that.”

She held his gaze as the silence drew out between them. Not even the loud chatter or the live music could interrupt their little heated moment.

“I think I’d like to go back to my room now.”

Charles’ heart sank but he didn’t protest, simply nodding in acceptance. “I’ll walk you up,” he said, clearing his throat as he forced himself to smile, though it didn’t hide the disappointment on his handsome face.

She put a hand around his arm, letting him guide her to Henry to say goodnight. Their father seemed less than thrilled but when she made up an excuse about feeling unwell, the woman he’d been speaking to waved them off, even praising Charles for looking out for her. Henry glared at them as they left but Charles didn’t pay him any attention.

The pair of them were silent as they entered the elevator but Emily never released his arm. They paused outside her room as she dug through her clutch. Her keycard was one of the only three items in her small purse and she was well aware it was tuckd in the fold behind her phone, but she needed a moment to think.

Five years. Five years she had tried to put her feelings to rest. Five years she had failed. Finding out it had been the same for him, was almost too much.

“Charles?”

Her whisper was so quiet that he almost didn’t hear her say his name. Slipping a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up to bring her gaze to his. “Yes?”

“You’re right. It’s more. It was always more.”

Charles pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. “Then don’t push me away,” he implored.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He didn’t want to be a witness to the rejection he feared was coming, but instead of expressing harsh words, her soft lips brushed against his.

His hands instantly found their way to her hips, pushing her backwards until her body was pinned between his chest and the door. Her lips parted as she let out a surprised gasp and Charles took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Not wanting to partake in a spontaneous episode of exhibitionism, Emily placed her hands on Charles’ chest and forced him back. She turned, struggling to fit her key card into the slot while her hands shook with the nerves currently tying her stomach in knots.

She almost cried out victoriously when the lock beeped, the little green light flashing twice. The door swung open and Emily surprised Charles by yanking him into the room by his black tie. The shock only lasted for a brief moment before they were joined in another heated kiss.

Emily pushed the jacket off Charles’ shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. While she was busy working through his various layers of clothing, his hands reacquainted himself with her body. When all that was left to remove was his underwear, Charles reached for the zipper concealed under Emily’s arm, freezing once he’d pulled it down.

“I… I don’t have any condoms.”

She tried to keep her composure but a laugh still escaped her. Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“It’s just that it didn’t do us any good last time,” he finished for her.

“Yeah... Don’t worry, I’m on birth control.”

Charles cupped Emily’s cheeks, her dress slipping down a few inches to reveal her naked chest and testing Charles’ restraint.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” she whispered, pushing the dress down over her hips, “but I want to.”

Charles slipped his hands down Emily’s sides then under her ass, lifting her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his hips on instinct as he carried her towards the bed.

His hair was longer than she had ever seen it and Emily couldn’t resist running her fingers through the silky strands. When he deposited her onto her back and wrapped his mouth around one peaked nipple, her grip unconsciously tightened.

“Oh fuck!”

He explored her body with his lips, pulling more expletives from her and slowly finding his way to Emily’s underwear. He quickly discarded the delicate fabric but before Charles had the chance to bury his head between her legs, Emily pulled him back up.

“You can do that next time.”

Charles made a satisfied noise that could only be described as a growl. “Next time? I like the sound of that.”

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from Emily’s forehead as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple then another to her jaw. The only thing between them was the thin cotton of his boxers which were soon thrown to the floor.

Emily pulling her knees wider apart was all the encouragement needed for Charles to take himself in hand and sink into her waiting core. A shuddering gasp escaped her lips as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

Her body tightened around the intrusion, causing Charles to hiss. “Don’t do that or this will be over before either of us has the chance to enjoy it.”

“I can’t help it, you feel too good.”

He breathed hard as he attempted to get his racing heart to slow. Charles kept perfectly still until Emily’s nose brushed against his jaw, coaxing him to turn his head. Their eyes locked and after a small nod from Emily, Charles withdrew his hips.

Groping Emily’s thigh, Charles angled her hips upwards and slowly sheathed himself back into her wet heat. No matter how much of her he had under his touch, it never felt like enough — not her legs around his waist, not her hands gliding across his shoulders, not her chest under his. Every part of her slotted against him so perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

Emily moaned in his ear, moving in time with his thrusts and spurring him on. He wished he could make the moment last forever but the wait had been so long that he struggled to hold on to his control. Placing both hands on either side of Emily’s head, Charles pushed himself up.

“Wha— Don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t stop if I tried,” he answered, slipping a hand between their bodies and lowering his head to suck a deep hickey onto the swell of her breast. If he was going to find his release, he was going to make sure that she found it with him.

Her fingers sank into his hair, guiding him a few inches lower. He was happy to oblige, circling his tongue around her nipple while his deft fingers did the same to her clit.

“Ohh…”

Emily’s legs quivered as pleasure coursed through her entire body. The hot walls squeezing Charles’ dick forced a strangled groan from deep within his chest.

“God, I’m so close.”

So was Charles but he couldn’t form the words out loud. He snapped his hips hard, setting a brutal pace but Emily took everything he had to give. Every thrust hit that sweet spot within her, soon sending her tumbling over the edge. He locked his lips over hers, swallowing her shouts while he spilled himself inside her. Emily’s nails cut the skin of his back, contrasting the shivering pleasure that ran along his spine.

When they had both regained the ability to breathe, Charles rolled onto his back, pulling Emily to lay on his chest. Her hair had come undone from its tight updo and was now tickling his neck. He ran his fingers through it, sweeping the locks aside and uncovering her face.

“Hey…”

Emily tilted her head up, looking at Charles with a hooded gaze. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to run this time. But if you ask me to, I’ll be gone before anyone can find out I was here.”

Emily pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, considering his words. She loved her quiet life but there was no doubt there was something missing. That something was not a material thing, it was more like an empty place in her heart. She shifted above him, hovering an inch from his face while his finger tips travelled over her back. 

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t care if anyone finds out about tonight… but I don’t want anyone to know what really happened five years ago. Are you okay with that?”

Charles brushed a finger down her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Though his feelings had never faded, he’d long since stopped hoping that one day she would ask him to stay.

He couldn’t begin to understand how difficult it must have been for her to go through everything essentially alone. If she wanted to continue to keep their first encounter secret, he would respect her choice.

“You are all I want.”

Their lips crashed together in a bruising assault, a testament to their past and a promise of everything to come in their shared future.

#Charles Brandon #Charles Brandon x ofc #Charles brandon fic #Charles brandon fanfic #Charles brandon fanfiction #charles brandon smut #duke of suffolk #the tudors fanfic #henry cavill #modern au

[rileytwenty]

Honestly this story is crack that I have not proof read, but in terms of plot I love it and if you like Henry Cavill chances are you will too. Thanks for your guys’ support. 

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Captain Syverson (Sand Castle), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Mike (Hellraiser), Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Hybrid AU

Summary: The usually confident Jess's mother is sick with cancer. Preparing to grieve, she goes into the shelter knowing she wants to help a hybrid. She meets Lab/Retriever!Mike and his brother German Shepherd!Syverson, and then, eventfully, she meets and saves Arctic Wolf!Geralt. She also picks up a stray, Malinois!Walter Marshall. She swears that she doesn't have feelings for them, because she can't have feelings for those she has legal power over. It would be immoral. But how can she resist all four of them? How will the house dynamics fall into place, and what will they all have to live through together?

#syverson #captain syverson #syverson fluff #walter marshall #sand castle #geralt z rivii #geralt of rivia #geralt #witcher #thewitcher #geralt x ofc #night hunter #henry cavill #henry cavil #hybrid au #hybrid #hybrids #dog!hybrid #wolf #werewolves #werewolf #x oc #fem oc #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff #mike hellraiser

[ashbrat488]

Candy - Chapter 6

Word count: 1089

Cassidy confronts August over lunch...

August glances up at Cassidy as she comes into view where he sits at the small table in the back of the restaurant. He smiles at her as she scowls, removing her yellow peacoat to display curve-hugging jeans and a light blue blouse as she took a seat beside him and lifted the menu in front of her.

Cassidy ignores August in his button-up, his tie loosened around his neck. She ignores how good he looks, as he brings his hand up to smooth his forefinger and thumb over his mustache. She smiles at the waitress as she greets the table. "I'll have the New York Strip."

"12 or 16 oz?" The waitress glances at August as he just sits quietly, waiting for Cassidy to finish.

"16. Medium. And a bottle of the Cabernet." She hands the menu to the waitress as August chuckles.

"Same for me is fine." He hands over his own menu, not taking his eyes off Cassidy as she finally glares back at him. "So? To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm as they were in public. "What do you think you're doing?"

August chuckles, looking around the restaurant as the waitress comes up to them with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He rolls up his sleeves as Cassidy watches the veins on his forearms, getting momentarily distracted as the waitress poured them both some wine. He nodded at her, waiting for her to walk away before looking back at Cassidy. "I don't know what you mean. You invited me here, Ms. Turner. Called me in the middle of the day at work and insisted I buy you lunch."

She huffs, shaking her head before bringing the wine up to her lips. The wine is dry and bitter and she forces herself to swallow it as August smirks at her amused.

"You don't like it?"

She smiles as he takes his own drink, and she forces herself to take another. She made a show of ordering the most expensive bottle, and she was not going to let him win. "It's fine."

"So, doll..." he leans toward her at the table as she swallows hard, the endearment shooting straight through her as she recalled their last time together. "What are we doing here? I can get us a hotel room for the night..."

She scoffs, leaning toward him too. "No! Why did you pay for my school? And my student loans?"

"Did I?" He asks with a flirty smile, cocking his head to the side.

"Fuck you, Walker!" She spits as he grips her wrist, his smile falling as his brows furrowed and his eyes darkened.

"Watch your mouth, doll. You should be saying thank you, August. Don't give me attitude or I'm going to beat it out of you."

She could only nod as he released her, leaning back in his chair. She knew it was a threat and a promise and it was one she wanted him to follow through on. She took a large gulp of the wine, trying to stifle the sour face as she set the glass back on the table and August chuckled. "You know what I mean. Why?"

"Because I could." He responds nonchalantly with a small shrug as she just seethes, becoming angrier. "You could always work it off with me in a hotel room."

"No." She shakes her head with a groan as she feels August rest his hand on her thigh under the table.

"I miss you, doll." He rubs her thigh, moving his hand to her inner thigh, his pinky reaching her pussy as he hears a sharp intake of air. "Don't you miss our time together? Don't you miss the feel of my cock claiming your pussy?"

She feels her face heat, turning red as she leans away from him, shoving his hand away and avoiding the gaze of the waitress as she set their steaks in front of them. When they're alone, Cassidy picks at her plate. "I do what I do because I do it on my own terms. No one else's. You can't manipulate me into doing what you want, August."

"So think of it as a gift then. A bonus. Speaking of..." he brings his hand up, running his fingers gently along her collarbone and up her neck as she trembled slightly, "why aren't you wearing the necklace I bought you?"

"Because," she brings her hand up to her neck where his hand just was, "my boyfriend didn't like me wearing something from a client."

"He knows what you do?" August is surprised at this revelation as he cuts into his steak, taking a large bite.

"Yes. I don't lie about it. He just isn't allowed to know who my clients are. But I keep my relationships neat and clean so that I don't even know who they really are. And you had to go and fuck that up, didn't you?"

August laughs, much to her chagrin, obviously annoyed. "Look, I was surprised as you were. But you're here now and I don't want to sever our relationship."

"Well I do..." she spits, knowing he was about as convinced as she felt, which was not at all.

He nods, letting it go to change the subject. "So, major in economics and minor in art? Why art?"

"Because I like art and you know nothing about me, August." She flags down the waitress, handing over the plate she barely touched. "Can you box this for me, please? Also a slice of your white chocolate cheesecake."

The waitress glances at August as if asking for permission as he only nods, chuckling. He looks back at Cassidy with a grin. "I might not know much about you yet, but I will." He leans toward her, hovering his face inches from hers to really drive the point home. "And I know you miss me. I know you miss our time together. I will have you again."

She shakes her head, not moving from her spot. "Keep dreaming, August Walker." She stands up and pulls on her coat as August watches her accept the bag of food from the waitress.

He sighs, pulling his phone out, and messaging The Contractor.

August: She's on her way back home.

He pulls out his wallet and sets some cash on the table before grabbing his jacket and leaving the restaurant. The lunch didn't exactly go as well as he had hoped. But he knew he was leaving with the knowledge that she still wanted him too. And that was enough for him to work with... for now.

Chapter 7 Candy

Taglist If you want to be added or removed from my list, let me know 🫶🏻

@identity22122212 , @alicedopey , @propelkingkitten , @critfailroll, @mrsevans90 , @carrie80readss, @thearcana-moonlight, @devotedlythoughtfulanchor , @alwayzmsbehavn

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill au #henry cavill xofc #august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #august walker x ofc

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Ch 1

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: The stakeout, some revelations, a takedown of sorts. We're just meeting everyone here, folks.

Chapter Warnings: Drug use, mention of drug trafficking, mention of blow jobs, light dom/sub behavior, past relationship pining, cheating (-ish?)

Word Count: 3.1K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: Usually a song per POV section

Syverson

"He's on the move."

Agent Syverson watched all nine monitors with an intensity felt throughout the surveillance trailer. He had two agents inside the posh Miami nightclub wearing cameras and his tech had hacked into the security feed for views of the bar, near the DJ, and over the entrance to VIP. Through an earpiece, he advised Agent Ramos to shift right while he motioned for Agent Baylen to swap camera views on the top three monitors. Something had caught Syverson's attention and he wanted confirmation before deciding the next moves for his team.

When Ramos had panned far enough onto the dance floor, Syverson called for her to stop and had Baylen zoom in on the screen. Coupled with the cameras from the DJ booth, Syverson had what he needed.

He watched her body move with what seemed like reckless abandon, but if this was who he thought it was, those moves were anything but careless.  There was a point and purpose to every swing and wave, every roll of her hips, every toss of her head.

"Sugar?" Syverson wasn't sure how the word slipped out because he was positive he only whispered it to himself in his head. But suddenly, eyes were on him and he felt his ire growing.  He did not need this attention or the distraction.

"What was that, sir?" Agent Moore asked.

Did he ignore it? Wave it off? Pretend it never happened? If only one other person had heard it, maybe he could get away with it. But as it stood, all three agents in the trailer were looking at him expectantly.

"Could I get some damn sugar for my damn coffee?" he barked, a little harsher than even he meant it to come out.

"I thought you took your coffee black, sir," Moore spoke.

"Well not tonight, I guess." His stare shut them the rest of the way up and everyone put their focus back on the task at hand, which was all he wanted in the first place.

Now he could watch her in peace.

Her moves told him she was hunting and the poor sap desperate enough to stand next to her was going down. He knew exactly how it would feel, too, because he remembered those nights with her like it was yesterday.

Even so young he had fallen fast and hard. Maybe he was mistaken, but she acted like she couldn’t be without him, too. So he spent any free time he could find between farm chores, football practice, and family responsibilities to hold her close and kiss her as deep as he knew how at the time.

She seduced him right away, but prom was something special and he thought for sure she was the one forever. He never got the chance to tell her how he felt, however, because it had taken him the rest of senior year to figure it out and by then, she was gone, moved away with her family to take care of an ailing relative far enough away that long distance felt like never again.

He called, she wrote, they managed one clandestine meet up on borrowed funds, and then it was his turn to disappear when he enlisted, not knowing what else he wanted to do with his life when sports didn't pan out and farm life lost its appeal.

But he never stopped thinking about her and the way she moved. On the dance floor and later that night in the cool sheets of the bed at the hotel room he sprang for. And now here she was, all these years later, like a cold splash of water to his face.

"Sir?" he heard like a faraway dream in his ear. "Do you want us to take him?"

Suddenly, she wasn't alone. Sure the dance floor was crowded, but until that moment she hadn't been dancing with anyone in particular. When his real mark for the night stepped into view, Agent Syverson almost broke the back of the chair he was leaning on.

August Walker, one of Miami's most notorious drug kingpins, was standing in front of his high school sweetheart and watching her with as much intensity as Syverson was. Only, August Walker could reach out and touch her if he wanted to.

Syverson watched as she danced around Walker, who simply stood stock still on the floor, not giving one single fuck if he was interrupting anyone's flow. And when Walker grasped her arm the next time she moved in front of him, Syverson almost broke.

"Anyone know who this is?"

"It's in the file, sir. This is Francesca Beaumont. We think she's his newest mule."

His throat went dry as Agent Moore finished her statement and he couldn't scramble for the file folder on the table in front of him fast enough. Sure enough, there in the report were the name and the details in black and white. Her photo was stuck behind those of a few other known mules and he cursed himself for missing it. That's not the way he liked to start off when taking the lead on a long running case.

And no wonder the name didn't stick out for him. In school, she went by Frankie. And her last name was Malloy. Had she married somewhere over the years, he wondered to himself.

Fuck.

"Stand down. I know we want this guy, but have any of you actually seen him do anything illegal tonight? Some rule out there about not dancing on a dance floor?"

He watched as cameras panned to follow August Walker who was now leading his Frankie away from the flashing lights of the DJ booth and up the stairs to his secured VIP lounge.

"Someone get me everything we have on her."

August

Francesca wasn’t supposed to be in the club tonight, August knew that for sure. He’d been very clear with her.

In the weeks since he’d activated her, she’d usually taken his direction so well. If she stepped out of line unknowingly, she was always willing to take a note and do whatever he asked of her to change her behavior. She was so pliant. Just like he liked them.

Her first test trip was to Amsterdam. She didn’t question it when he told her had to fly out early, but he’d meet her there. The morning of her flight, he had called to let her know his assistant was dropping off an extra suitcase he needed her to bring. And when she arrived, she didn’t even bat an eye when she discovered he had already left.

At least he assumed she didn’t mind because he didn’t get a scathing voicemail or fuck-off text message and she had apparently followed the directions on the letter left in her suite to a tee. The bag was delivered without a hitch exactly where he’d asked her to drop it and as far as he knew, she’d enjoyed the rest of her weekend, albeit alone. She’d just been so excited to experience a new city, she told him when she got back and he visited her apartment in the very late evening hours, slinking in by the alley entrance and slipping his key in the lock.

That had actually been his first request of her. A key to her apartment, so he could come and go as he pleased. After the few dates he’d taken her on, treating her to lavish meals and luxury car rides, she hadn’t resisted at all. What would he possibly care to take from her place, not the lowliest of studio apartments, but certainly nothing he would normally let himself be caught dead in. 

She was something else, though. She had a presence that did not fit her surroundings. She didn’t have the kind of money he did, hell she didn’t even have the kind of money some of his lower employees did, hence her meager living situation. But she glowed with the grace of a celebrity. Someone who deserved so much more than the hand he thought she’d been dealt. If she kept up the good work, he’d reward her. Bring her along in a more official capacity. Give her a larger stipend, move her into a place he wouldn’t mind being seen in. Maybe even replace one of his current regulars with her. 

Yeah, he really wanted to replace one of his current regulars with her. If he let himself think too long about it, maybe all of them.

As it stood now, she was on probation with him, whether she knew it or not. The Tokyo trip had also been a success, but she almost blew it for him when she started asking Hideo too many questions over cocktails. Later in the hotel room, he made sure to remind her who was in charge and when she was allowed to speak. She had liked that, too, he could tell.

So her showing up like this just before their trip to Spain in a few days was a surprise. When he caught sight of her, he had Mateo drive Candace home. Candace wouldn’t have known Francesca from a hole in the wall, but since he was going to put his newest carrier in her place once again, he couldn’t have Candace watching.

Once he was sure they were gone, he rose from the plush velvet couch of the roped off VIP lounge area, taking note that the new guy, Will, had stepped into Mateo’s spot without hesitation. It pleased August to know that his employees knew exactly what he wanted and needed, and when.

Usually. 

August headed down the steps leading to the dance floor. The music was loud, bordering on obnoxious for him but this is what the club scene called for and here is where he did most of his original business which had led fortuitously to his new business. So he ignored the cacophony and stalked across the floor, not so much pushing the revelers out of his way as willing them to step aside. 

When he reached Francesca, he stood still in front of her and let her keep moving in that way that left him no choice but to stiffen. She smirked like she’d won some unspoken competition and twirled again, bouncing to the beat and stepping around him. He didn’t look back, just waited for her to return, because he knew she wasn’t dancing away from him. Not after breaking rank and showing up uninvited like this.

When she finally did appear in front of him again, he grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly into his chest so he could speak directly into her ear. There was no way he was going to shout over the music at her.

“What exactly are you doing here, pet? Get a little lonely?” He pulled back to stare down into her face, pleased to find a small hint of terror. If he couldn’t will his women into submission, what good were they?

He bent again, “Do you want to walk with me somewhere private where you can tell me what this is all about?”

She nodded and he turned to leave the throng, still gripping her arm tightly.

Francesca

I wanted to make sure he hadn't forgotten about me. I knew it was risky, showing up when I'd been specifically warned to stay away until our upcoming trip. But on top of my worry about that trip, I missed him. As much as I hated to admit it.

He awoke such a fire in me. Feelings that had been missing for so long. Lovers had come and gone. But no one ever measured up to my first young lustful love. Not until August.

He made me crazy. Made me second guess everything I knew about myself.

The first night we were together, I was on my hands and knees in front of him faster than I ever thought possible. Most men were careful with me. Handled me with kid gloves, like I would break if the wind blew wrong.

But not August. He'd approached me at this very club, in much the same way he did tonight. Walked straight up to me and waited for an opportunity to speak to me when he was ready, whether I was or not.

I probably would have come right there on the dance floor if he had touched me that night, but he didn't. Not immediately. He just watched me. I could feel his lustful gaze as I circled him on the floor, and I made sure to turn back to him over and over again. Every time I turned away, I'd remember the look I saw in his eyes, and I'd spin right back to him.

He knew, too. Knew the way the hunger in his eyes was affecting me, no matter how hard I tried to resist. I didn't want him thinking he had the kind of control over me I imagined giving him, even from that very first night.

When I finally let myself dance for him and him alone, I saw the self-assured smirk of a man who knew who his conquest was for the night and I closed my eyes like that would keep him from knowing every thought that crept in.

I wanted him, and he was going to have me.

He didn't even touch me as he led me off the dance floor that first night. I followed him gladly, excitement buzzing through me, electrifying my core. He only turned back once to make sure I was following him to his personal lounge on the upper level of the club.

I didn't care if every person in that club knew I was about to get fucked by August Walker. 

I was proud of it. There were plenty of girls vying for his attention that night, and I needed to make sure I was who he wanted. But no matter how much I wanted him to take me then and there, he kept me on a hook.

Oh, I tasted him that night for sure. Felt his lips against mine and his tongue as it slipped inside my mouth after he showed me the tip. He was gentleman enough to get permission before he put the ecstasy tab in, so I can't even claim coercion of any sort. I can't claim disappointment either, though I thought he'd let me feel his cock in my pussy that night.

Instead, he kissed me until my head spun, and then he watched me drop to my knees before him.  I could see from the bulge in his pants, he was hard, and because I still had yet to figure out the game he was playing that night, I thought pulling his zipper down and releasing his engorged cock was just a preamble to the main event.

But for that night, August only wanted to fuck my mouth and I let him.

The filthy words he called down to me while I slathered my saliva all over his dick only made me wetter, and my mouth watered for him, too. He knew the effect he was having on me, coupled with the drug that coursed through my veins, and I loved every second of it. How could I not?

I worshiped his cock for what felt like hours. Licking up and down his shaft, circling my mouth around his head, stroking his base with my hand and jerking him off into my mouth.

Every time he wove his fingers into my hair, I willed him to pull, begged him through the tears in my eyes to hold me fast and move my head however he wanted to. I almost cried when he let go, but as soon as he was done spooning the coke into each of his nostrils from the tiny vial on the chain around his neck, he put both of his hands right back on my head and pumped his cock deep down my throat, coming with a roar that told me I'd satisfied something he'd been missing for a while. I smiled internally with that knowledge.

The next few weeks had been a whirlwind of seduction, and I was having a hard time differentiating just who was doing the seducing. When he invited me to Amsterdam, I was so excited. I imagined what fucking him in a foreign country would feel like.

But it was like he knew just how to keep me hanging on, giving me just enough of a taste of him before the trip to keep me wanting more. He completely avoided me for the entire trip. Sent word the day before our scheduled departure that he had to leave early and then put me in charge of that extra suitcase. When I arrived, our hotel suite was empty, with not one piece of his belongings left behind for me to hold on to. I never even saw him there. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

I kept my wits about me, though. Kept my disappointment to myself. I wasn't about to let him know how much I had ached for him for those days I was alone. And I'd been away from him often enough here in the States. But there was something about missing the opportunity to have his cock deep inside me while watching the light of a sunset in a different sky that had me questioning just how deep I was with this man.

I made sure to keep him close in Tokyo. And there was no way I was giving up an opportunity to fuck August in Japan. I may have offended his business partner, but I really didn't care. I wanted that dinner meeting over and done so I could pour myself over him and take his mind off the women who were serving us.

I knew Hideo had chosen those girls for particular reasons, and I wasn't about to sit idly by and let them whisper and giggle and tease and taunt his attention away from me. They weren't the kind of woman August truly desired anyway; they were mousy and timid, even with their advances.

I knew he was angry with the way I comported myself in front of his associates, but it didn't stop him from letting us both work out our frustrations on one another for the rest of the trip.

So when he told me to stay away for a few days this time, I knew something was up and I was right. I knew her name was Candace, but I still didn't know much about her other than I was worried he was about to hand my seat to Spain over to her, and I couldn't let that happen.

Taglists

And so here I was, being led by a firm grip on a walk to his private office. Exactly where I wanted to be.

Chapter 2

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