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paterson-blue · 3 years

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The Night, The Flame

Summary: You come home to an unexpected visitor.

Word Count: 2,114

Warnings: femme!reader, sub!reader, dom!Henry, pussy eating, pussy worship, cigarette smoking (y'all already know lmao), degradation, edging, overstimulation, brief mention of consensual somnophilia, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, kinda dub-con if you squint I guess, possessive!Henry, insecure!Henry because it's me & I have to do that shit-- fuck, I think that's all, but let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Uhm. Cannes. That is all.

Your apartment is dark and silent when you arrive home. It’s late, and after a night out with your friends, all you’re thinking about is a shower and straight to bed. You don’t notice that things are a little off—the door to the coat closet slightly ajar, a half empty glass sitting abandoned on the kitchen island, the small decorative glass ashtray usually kept on the coffee table missing.

You don’t notice until you spy movement from the corner of your eye, out on the balcony. Your heart leaps into your throat for a brief moment as you freeze in place, but then a split second later you recognize the lean silhouette, as well as the tell-tale orange glow of a cigarette.

Henry.

You sigh in relief, and just a little bit of annoyance that he’s startled you. You hadn’t been expecting him. Walking over to the sliding glass door, you open it up to peek your head out at him. He’s sitting in one of the patio chairs, long legs resting on the balcony’s edge as he overlooks the view of the city. He’s wearing nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs, wavy hair blowing in the slight breeze; you wonder, idly, where the rest of his clothes are.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you finally say when he fails to acknowledge you. He takes another deep drag of his cigarette before reaching one long sinewy arm out towards the patio table, where the ashtray sat. He taps off the excess ash; you notice that the little container is already half full. How long has he been here?

“How did you get in?” you ask, not quite knowing what else to say.

He hums, the sound low and quiet; still doesn’t look at you. “You gave me a key.”

You blink, but then—yeah. You had given him a key. A “just in case” key he hadn’t wanted to take. Just in case what? he’d asked, making a face at the object like it offended him. You hadn’t really had an answer. Just in case you want to see me. Just in case you need me. Just in case you want something more than this.

Henry had been giving you the best orgasms of your life for four months straight, but the man was so broody and flighty that you didn’t dare bring up a relationship. Didn’t dare ask him to stay. The only outcome would be disaster, this you knew. So, instead, you’d said: in case you’re antsy after a show and want to come fuck me while I’m asleep. And oh, how his eyes had gone dark and hungry.

He’d taken the key.

But, of course, you’ve forgotten about that. Because it’s been two months since then and he hadn’t used it once (at least, that you’re aware of, and doesn’t that send heat down your spine?)

You stand there for a moment, watching him smoke; somewhere in the distance a police siren cuts through the low hum of night time traffic. Henry stabs the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray and promptly lights up another, the flame momentarily bathing his face in light. A deep breath, then he’s leaning his head back, letting smoke curl up towards the heavens. His dark hair falls over his slim shoulders, ones you knew were decorated with freckles you couldn’t see.

Why was he here? What did he want? You try to think, to remember if he told you something about tonight—he’d had a show. A new set of some sort, a new venue. And now here he was, three in the morning, half naked and chain smoking on your balcony. Your gaze traces over his form, recognizing the tension in his jaw, his back.

“Bad night?” you ask softly, gently. You want to reach out and caress him, to soothe him, but you aren’t sure if it will cause him to flee. You compromise your urge by moving closer, but not too close, settling in your own chair across from him. He doesn’t answer but at this point you don’t expect him to—he was in one of his moods. You gaze out at the cityscape with him, waiting for him to finish, for his inevitable leaving. Maybe he’d just needed a place to clear his head.

After a while you feel yourself starting to get a little sleepy—you’re beginning to consider grabbing that shower and telling him to let himself out when he’s done with whatever it is that he’s doing—when he stands. You jerk your head over to look up at him, arching a brow in question. He brings his cigarette up to his plush lips, studying you, eyes dark and wild. It makes you feel cornered; makes you feel like prey.

Henry always seems to have this effect on you.

Silently, he grabs the throw pillow he’d been reclining against, and then leans down to stub out the rest of his cig. You track the movement, watching the soft glow of the embers scatter close to his large fingers. There’s a brief moment of suspense where neither of you move, blink, breathe—and then he’s stalking towards you, a lion going after it’s kill.

He tosses the pillow onto the concrete floor in front of you, and then he’s kneeling on top of it, right between your legs. You feel your face start to flush, and you instinctively press your thighs together as you look around furtively. “Henry.” Your voice trembles, breathless already; he hasn’t taken those eyes off of you. “Henry, don’t.”

He ignores your warning, strong hands gliding up your calves and under your dress, gripping your thighs and prying them open. You gawk at him, but he’s not focused on your face, not anymore.

“Henry, someone will see.” You try again, pushing against his grip; he pushes right back, keeping your legs spread for him. His eyes roam over the sheer white lace of your underwear, and his lip curls up into something akin to a sneer.

“What’s this? Hoping you’d find someone to show these to tonight?” His fingers press into your skin as if to accentuate his words. You frown at him, and start to speak, to tell him no and to stop being an asshole. You don’t get the words out. Anything you’re about to say flies out of your brain when he presses his face between your legs, planting his mouth over as much of your cunt as possible.

You squirm in your seat, letting out a little whine. He works his jaw, sucking on you through your underwear, and you know the fabric will be sopping wet in no time with how messy he’s being, letting the lace capture his saliva. He presses his nose right up against your clit—inhales deeply and lets out a low groan. It’s possessive. Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest.

“Fuck, Henry—“ you curse, moaning softly when he rubs that stupid perfect nose up and down, up and down, taking his damn time, his breath hot where it fans out against your skin. “L-Let’s go inside, please?”

He bites the inside of your thigh in response, and then suddenly he’s wrenching your underwear down your legs. He tosses them over his shoulder and you yelp when they go over the side of the balcony.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snap at him, but then he’s shoving your legs up and back until your knees hook over the arms of the chair you’re in. When he looks up at you his eyes are ablaze, his hands pressing at the backs of your thighs, his big thumbs opening your pussy to the cool night air.

“You’re gonna sit right here and let me taste you.” His tone is dark and demanding, and you look down at him in disbelief. Your mouth opens to say something—anything—but then he’s yanking your forward by your ass and burying his face into your pussy. He doesn’t start out slow; apparently, that’s not the mood he’s in tonight. Instead, he shoves his tongue into you as deep as he can, rubbing his nose against your clit—and even still, he’s grabbing at you so hard you think he’s trying to get deeper.

You clench around him and he moans, moving to suck messily at your folds. You’re hyper aware of how fucking noisy it is, the way he’s eating you—slurping at you—and your face feels like it’s on fucking fire. Christ, what if one of your neighbors heard? What if they saw? You clutch a hand into his hair, hips rolling up into his mouth without your permission.

Henry seals his mouth over your clit and sucks hard, tongue beating out an insistent pattern against the bundle of nerves. You gasp, wriggling against him, and he just holds you even tighter, nose pressing into your pubic bone in a way that surely can’t be comfortable.

“Oh shit.” You whisper, voice breaking as you try to stay quiet. You’re already close, somehow, just on the edge, thighs trembling—and he fucking knows it. He fucking knows it because he stops that gorgeous rhythm, presses his tongue back inside and groans at the taste. He starts the process all over again and you’ve never hated him more.

He does the whole thing twice more before you’re making incessant, involuntary little noises, still making a futile attempt to stay quiet. Henry looks up at you as he circles your clit with the hard point of his tongue and for some reason that’s what does it. You clap a hand over your mouth as you cry out, the noise close to a sob. He’s snatching your hand away in an instant, his fingers wrapping all the way around your wrist, holding it tight.

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ muffle yourself. What the fuck’s your problem, huh? Don’t want anyone to hear what a little slut you are? Don’t want anyone to know how good I make you feel?” He’s speaking loudly, voice carrying into the night. He grabs your other wrist, holding them both and squeezing so hard you think they might bruise. “You fuckin’ ashamed of me?”

That seems to cut through the haze in your brain, and you manage to shake your head at him, holding his gaze. Of course you weren’t ashamed of him. Why would he think that? Henry seems to flounder for a brief moment, as if he hadn’t expected those particular words to come out of his mouth. But then he lets out a growl, and he’s leaning forward, spitting right onto your pussy.

You gasp, clit throbbing as you feel the liquid trail over your skin. Henry uses the index and middle digits of his free hand to push his saliva into you, his fingers following as he stretches you out deep, deep inside. When he looks up at you he’s composed himself, back to his normal guise of control. “Let them hear,” he snaps, “I want them to hear.”

He gives no warning before he’s setting a frantic pace with his fingers, fucking you with them harshly. You let out a shaky cry, and he gives you a sharp grin.

“Louder.” He demands, his own voice rising in volume. “Scream my fuckin’ name.”

You do, you do, lost to the merciless pace of his fingers inside you, to the wet squelch of your cunt as he hammers your g-spot. You can’t escape his touch, can’t escape the intensity of his gaze as you cum all over his hand. Henry fucking laughs, the sound ringing out over everything else. “Listen to that sloppy pussy. You’re gonna bounce on my cock right here until I fill it with cum, and then I’m gonna fuck you again over the railing. You’re mine.”

He doesn’t stop, even when you sob out from overstimulation, body shaking with it. Your cunt grips his fingers like a vice, and he lowers his mouth to your clit just in time to bring you to a quick second orgasm. Your thighs close around his head as you scream for him, just like he wanted—you don’t even recognize the sounds you’re making.

When your legs finally fall back open to release him, Henry pulls his fingers from you into his mouth, sucking at them as his dark eyes stay trained on your slick folds. You’re panting loudly, all pretense of politeness forgotten as you focus on him. He reaches out to brush a feather light touch over your pussy, humming low in his chest when you twitch for him. “Pretty thing. I bet my cock’s gonna slip right in.”

You bet it will, too.

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taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @millenialcatlady @peachyproserpina @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @cornmousequeen @icarusinthesea @heartofjakku

#i have lost my goddamn mind you guys #i wrote all of this at work last night in a feral fever dream #so anyway #henry mchenry x reader #henry mchenry x femme!reader #henry mchenry x female reader #henry x reader #henry x femme!reader #henry x female reader #henry mchenry smut #adcu fanfic #henry mchenry fic #adcu #cw: smoking #cw: overstimulation #cw: somnophilia

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suddenlysackler · 3 years

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Keep Up

Henry McHenry x Reader

TW: tad bit of angst, mention of divorce, reader feels a bit insecure, henry is an ass but we’re working on him, brief mention of addiction/sobriety

A/N: Writing is hard but I’ve been working really hard on this so I wanted to share it even though there was really no point to the plot I just wanted to write for Henry. I have literally no posting schedule/writing schedule anymore. This takes place post Waltz in the Storm, only we’re gonna say Ann survived and took Annette and divorced Henry okay bye ily all so much.

...

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Your eyes are round and full of mixed emotions — trust, fear, maybe some excitement — as you grip the helmet shoved into your hands with a vice grip.

Henry watches you from the seat of the Harley he had bought with the money from the sale of his and Ann’s estate after the divorce. It’s ridiculous, really. Completely over the top, particularly for someone who was just making a comeback in their career and trying to get back to some sort of financial stability. “Just get the fuck on the bike and try to keep up with me, will you?” His tone leaves no room for argument, his face is playfully skeptical.

The red Harley Davidson motorcycle is “fully loaded” as the sales person had told the two of you as you made your way across the show room floor just a few days ago. It’s completely with heated grips and a backrest in the passenger’s seat and a full scale infotainment system for Henry to blast his favorite music between gps directions as he sees fit. He’d passed on the built in defensive driving mechanism and balked at the Milwaukee-Eight 114 engine and even sprung for the most expensive of saddlebags. Hell, he’d even told you he was planning on getting the leather embroidered with his initials.

Did this surprise you? No, not in the slightest.

Henry is eccentric.

It’s your default response to the questions and comments and concerns expressed by each member of your social circle from the moment you’d mentioned that you’d been seeing someone. Questions of who, what, when, where, why, and how and worries about whether or not someone who shined so bright would be good for you and whether it would even work.

Honestly, you ask yourself the same thing almost every day. If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t be able to see it.

He asks himself how you can see it every time he wakes up to your hair spread across his pillows.

Back to the matter at hand. You. Him. Big scary motorcycle.

You turn your feet inward almost absentmindedly, standing pigeon toed and letting your shoulders tense up as he kicks off the bike with an exaggerated groan and comes to stand in front of you. “I’ve never done this before.”

Henry pulls off his own helmet, tosses it to rest on the seat, and smiles knowingly at you. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“Shut up.”

“Ann never —”

Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted just a bit. It was the one thing he continuously did even a year and a half into your relationship that made you lose your mind. He stops mid sentence when he sees the disappointment on your face.

“I’m not Ann.” You say, trying so, so hard to not ruin the night. He’d been waiting for a break in the much needed rain falling over LA county for the past week to take you out and show you a good time. Try as you might, your lips start to tremble ever so slightly and you let the helmet clatter to the ground, beyond frustrated with him. With yourself even?

He rushes forward, hands all over you and your face before you can even bend at the waist to pick up the discarded the mixture of plastic and fiberglass at your feet. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You did it again.”

“But I didn’t mean it.” Henry says, pleads with you. His brown eyes convey the honest to goodness truth of it all and you know he’s good for his word. He really didn’t mean to.

The past year was tumultuous, everyone knew that. Finding Ann stranded at sea on the coast just ten miles away from where Annette slept safely on board the yacht with her father. The accusations, the words thrown like daggers. The bliss and fervor and passion of their early days slipping away faster than vinegar leaves the bottle when you pour it, the whole ordeal just as sharp and bitter to taste.

You’d been introduced to it just as the papers had been served to Henry’s modest home that had been inhabited for six months before Ann had made her final decision.

He’s grateful for your loyalty and tells you that much just about every day. There isn’t a day where you doubt his love for you — how could you when you watch him work on himself in therapy and in the gym and with the way he tosses his cigarettes to the side and limits himself to a carton a week somehow?

However, the one thing you had zero tolerance for was being compared to Ann.

Henry bites his tongue as he looks at you. He represses the urge to yell and ask why it always has to be about you, why you always have to nit pick when he does something you don’t care for. He takes a deep breath and focuses on the feel of your skin and how it’s almost as if it’s a balm for all of the negative emotions and thoughts crammed into his head. He reminds himself that you aren’t doing anything wrong by calling him out on this, that it’s appropriate to. Rather than lash out, he takes a deep breath and says the words he had been working so, so hard to work into his vocabulary in sincerity over the past year. “I’m sorry.”

The apology rings through your ears and settles in your mind. You sit with it for a moment and think about the Henry you had heard of prior to meeting him — the violent outbursts, the juxtaposition of his drinking and smoking habits in conjunction with his almost militant like work out routine. The selfishness and the narcissism and the screaming.

Your brow knits together as you process his words. “You’re sorry?” The words felt foreign on your own tongue, you couldn’t imagine how he must feel.

He nods slowly, giving you a once over as his cheeks begin to heat up. “I’m really, really sorry.” Henry promises, swears it. “It’s force of habit and that doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry. I’m working on that.”

You nod after the last word leaves his lips and you’re reminded of the fact that, yes, he is working on it. He’s working on a lot of things and you remind yourself that the whole reason he bought the bike was to celebrate one year of sobriety. With bated breath, you stand on your toes and kiss his cheek bone gingerly, an acknowledgement in it of itself. You know Henry doesn’t need your words.

Henry leans down and kisses your forehead, then crouches and grabs your helmet. He stays close to the ground for a long moment and falls to his knees. He buries his face in the fabric of your shirt and rests his arms just around the small of your back, memorizing the feel of holding you and relishing in the way your hands almost automatically move to thread through his hair, no longer matted from neglect and back to its usual thickness and shine.

After a few moments of silence, you pull back just a bit to look at him. “I’m proud of you.” You whisper, eyes shining with a mixture of emotion.

His own eyes bore into your face, always working on committing whatever it was he was currently feeling to memory. “Thank you for helping me.”

A smile breaks out on your face and you shrug before leaning down and kissing his temple. “Always.” You murmur. “Now, will you please get me on the bike? Show me what I’ve been missing all these years.”

Henry smiles, the expression of satisfaction much wider than your own flash of your teeth. “You sure?” He asked, repeating your words from just a few minutes prior back to you.

“I’m sure.” You respond while trying to suppress the giggle that threatened to bubble past your lips at his teasing. You can’t help but cackle as he all but drags you to the bike and helps you put on the helmet, letting you inspect the bike before hopping on. When you finally straddle the seat, his left hand comes to rest over your arms, now looped around his waist and hanging on for dear life, before he hits the ignition and punches it, riding off in pure bliss and leaving the events of the past year behind, as it should be.

#adcu #henry mchenry #annette #adam driver #adcu x reader #henry x reader #henry mchenry x reader #reader self insert #self reader insert #reader insert #adcu self insert #adcu fic #adcu fan fiction #henry mchenry fic #henry mchenry fanfic #tw: divorce #tw: sobriety #tw: light angst

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ohsolonelyghosts · 2 years

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what are your hc's on the adcu boys being roommates? Thank u!

Hey there! I actually really like this one! I've made up some pairings that I think would work / and or be disastrous.

Just want to also stick it in there that my little Henry AU is where he isn't a big deal and is a little milder than he genuinely is in Annette.

Kylo & Sackler

This would literally be the death of any downstairs neighbors.

The yelling, screaming, and stomping that would ensue would be nuts.

They'd watch sports together and yell at the tv

If they both had too much to drink they could both yell at each other, which I'm sure any neighbors would love.

They both need their own alone time and both high five as well as sometimes complain about the noisy sex the other has.

Both have major temper tantrums when they have bad days.

They would throw parties, like, every weekend.

They always had something going on and were always drinking.

Charlie & Maurizio

Let's be real, this could easily be a match made in heaven.

Maurizio is always gone, and Charlie hardly ever sees him in the house.

However, Charlie himself is also never there, so they just happen to both be home very rarely.

They'd be friends though, aside from everything they would always catch up in the rare time they were home.

This is also in an AU where Gucci was not well known yet.

Paterson & Jude

These two are perfect to room together, both very laid back, very quiet boys.

Both are very introverted personalities, they would both pretty much agree on everything very easily.

It's a decently quiet home, with Jude being a single father, Paterson would also volunteer to help out at any time.

If Jude needed to do something, Pat would have no issue on babysitting duty, but the older Jude's son got, the better he could get whatever he wanted out of Pat.

Anyone who was invited over could have gotten the idea that they were co-parenting.

They were good friends though all through it, having awful relationships in the past, they bonded over it.

Henry & Daniel

Now, in my opinion, these two are an odd pairing, but it would work fine.

Daniel is always busy, so that leaves Henry the apartment a lot of the time.

"You could use a bit of work on that comedy."

Which Henry would scoff at because he thinks he's the perfect comedian.

"God, Henry could you please wear something other than just a robe and boxers here sometimes? It's weird."

#adcu #adcu community #adcu fanfiction #adam driver #adam driver character #kylo x y/n #adcu fic #kylo fanfic #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver fanfic #adam sackler #charlie barber #henry mchenry #paterson imagine #jude adcu #maurizio gucci

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babbushka · 3 years

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April 2021 Fic Recap

Hello everyone and welcome to May! I can't believe April flew by so quickly, but you know what that means -- it's time for the monthly recap!

I've gotten quite a few new friends this month, so for the folks just joining me here, I take the first couple days of the month to compile all the writing, headcanons, general thots and discussions about AUs into one post. I also take this time to update my writing masterlist!

Some housekeeping:

If you’d like to be added to my taglist for future writing uploads, please click here!

If you’d like to see my complete collection of works, please visit my Masterlist here!

If you’re new to the blog, I invite you to please read through my FAQ!

I also upload all my chapter fics and oneshots to my archiveofourown account which you can find here!

Now, on to the recap!

Chapter Fic Updates

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch2)** ; Lawyer AU Kylo Ren x Reader

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch3)**; Lawyer AU Kylo Ren x Reader

Oneshots

Dinner & A Show**; Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Watch Dog**; Mob AU Kylo Ren x Reader

Day 535**; Flip Zimmerman x Reader x Kylo Ren

Character Headcanons

Henry McHenry being the leader of a cult lol

Ancient Emperor Kylo doting on you while you're pregnant

Ancient Emperor Kylo fucking you during a senate meeting*

Ancient Emperor Kylo lavishing you with attention*

Ancient Emperor Kylo being jealous

Flip Zimmerman comforting his wife

Flip Zimmerman arguing with his wife

Flip Zimmerman boxing in an underground fight club

Flip Zimmerman being subby despite looking like a dom*

Flip Zimmerman being possessive and protective over you

Flip Zimmerman loving fucking you in his office*

SL Kylo Ren loving to eat pussy*

Charlie Barber being touch starved*

Clyde Logan being the perfect representation of Summer

Edwardian Duke Lord Ren doting on Lady Ren during her pregnancy

Edwardian Duke Lord Ren's estate he builds for Lady Ren

Edwardian Duke Lord Ren's estate budget estimates

Edwardian Duchess Lady Ren's daily schedule*

Edwardian Duchess Lord Ren giving Lady Ren expensive Hanukkah gifts

Character Imagines

Flip Zimmerman

Young Flip taking you on a romantic date in the park ***

Flip eating you out for breakfast before his coffee**

Flip teaching you how to drive (it's a disatser)

Flip being stupidly in love with his wife

Kylo Ren

Mob Kylo reuniting after a short amount of time

Lawyer Kylo kissing you in the rain

Discussions about the Edwardian Duke!Kylo Ren x Duchess!Reader AU

Lord Ren's primary sources of income

Lord Ren being scandalously open with PDA

Lord Ren loving how Lady Ren's body changes during pregnancy

Lord & Lady Ren having all male heirs

Lord & Lady Ren's sons ages

Lord & Lady Ren's titles

Lord & Lady Ren's sons and their titles

The children's titles pt 2

Lord & Lady Ren's sons' education

Lord & Lady Ren's being helicopter parents lol

Lady Ren being the Princess of the house and being doted on by her husband and sons

Lord & Lady Ren giving expensive party favors

Lord Ren having a deal with the cops to ignore complaints lol

Lord Ren being present for his sons the way his father never was for him

Lady Ren being spoiled and rich lol

Lady Ren wearing royal jewelry given to her by Queen Padme of Naboo

Queen Padme & Prince Anakin loving their great-grandchildren

Lord Ren being rich and wanting to spoil his family lol

Lord Ren's eldest son's first birthday

Lord & Lady Ren being emotional over their eldest son's birthday

Lady Ren only wearing the finest bespoke clothing

Lord Ren taking Anthony out for drives in the fancy new automobiles when he's old enough

Lord & Lady Ren being big into fox and game hunting

Lord Ren watching Lady Ren get ready for a state dinner*

The fancy parties Lord & Lady Ren throw

The children attending fancy parties

Cool features at the estate

Lord Ren being a stuffy old man lol

How they deal with the Great Depression

Anthony volunteering for WW2 to beat the shit out of n*zis pt 1

Anthony beating the shit out of n*zis in WW2 pt 2ada

The total wordcount for the month of April clocks in at: 37,021

I'm so grateful for every single one of you here who read, share, comment, or in any other way interact with me and my writing! You're all so wonderful, and I hope that May treats us all kindly!

#flip zimmerman #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #clyde logan x reader #charlie barber x reader #henry mchenry x reader #adam driver fanfic #adcu #april fic recap #kylo ren/reader #flip zimmerman/reader

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mrs-gucci · 2 years

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Gold Undead {pirate!Henry McHenry x Reader}

@safarigirlsp

For a Trick idea, this may be based on our POTC discussions lol Pirate Henry giving you a gold piece necklace. Little does he know it’s haunted/cursed and summons demons/zombies/undead/ghosts whatever to you. Henry has to rescue you of course. Thank you!!! 💗

TRICK or treat and happy halloween 🎃💀⚰️🗡🔮 I had quite a bit of fun with this one and I’m excited to finally share it with y’all! apologies for the (huge) delay, but I hope that it was worth the wait. and also, thank you so much to everyone for a successful and super eventful month of spooky fun :)

**all credit for the creation of any and everything to do with “Pirates of the Caribbean” goes to the original creators and to Disney. I take absolutely no credit for anything other than my own original characters/characterizations and my own original creative liberties separate from the canonical “POTC” universe in this work.**

warnings. ACTION/ADVENTURE, FLUFF, reader is of high-standing (implied), forbidden romance, young & in love, making out, some touching, badass female reader character, pirate attacks, cannons, sword fighting, a heroic rescue, a romantic reunion, happy end. **no actual use of ‘Y/N’ in this fic.

tw’s. making out in the open, themes of indentured servitude (period-typical), piracy (period-typical), the supernatural/undead, kidnapping, a depiction of vomiting, some period-typical sexism, depictions of excessive alcohol consumption, near-death experiences, graphic depictions of injury & violence & fighting & death, descriptions of blood.

word count: 3.5k

✦ summary ✦ Captain Henry McHenry, scourge of the Caribbean Seas, returns to Port Regal late one night with an ancient treasure more powerful than he knows, professing his undying love for you. The gold piece that now lay between your breasts, meant to be a symbol of Henry’s feelings for you, sends an invisible summons to a cursed ship of local legend, the Black Pearl, and her undead crew. Now, finding yourself their newest matey, your trust in Henry and his love are put to the ultimate test as your fate amongst the living sails further and further into uncharted waters.

A warm Caribbean breeze flutters across your skin as you stand out on the balcony, looking upon Port Regal’s midnight sea. The moonlight bounces off the ever-unrestful waters, ships rocking back and forth with the natural rhythm.

Henry promised that he’d be docking in Port Regal for the night in order to pay you a visit, but he hasn’t arrived and your concern grows with each passing moment.

What if something has happened? What if he’s been captured...or worse?

The worries swirl in your mind regardless of how much you try to hold them back, shuddering at the mere thought of his lifeless corpse bobbing amongst the salty flotsam.

“Miss? Your bed warmer is ready. Shall I put it on for you?”

You shake your head, not even turning to look at your maid. “I am not ready to lay at the moment, Annette. I shall put it under myself when the time is right. You are dismissed for the night, thank you.”

She simply nods and backs out of the room, shutting the door behind her. You feel a tinge of guilt at your cold, callous nature, but you can’t help it. You’re feeling upset and anxious about Henry’s absence, and frankly, you could give a damn about your bed warmer.

You shake your head before walking back into your room, closing the balcony doors. Your robe flutters where it hangs on a hook as the breeze pushes through and you stride over to it, pulling it on over your shoulder.

Clad in only your nightgown and robe, you sneak down to the beach by the docks. You shed your slippers before walking along the shores, enjoying the way the tropical water tickles your bare feet.

“May I join you?”

A familiar voice asks, and your eyes widen before you quickly spin around with a grin upon your face. You immediately jump into Henry’s waiting arms, squealing softly in glee.

“Oh, Henry!”

He grins, burying his face into the crook of your neck as you embrace for the first time in what feels like an eternity.

“It is so good to see you, my love. I apologize for my delay, the winds sailing in were not much in our favor.”

You laugh softly, drawing back to touch your lips to his, hand sliding up to cradle the side of his face. He’s eager to return your kiss and match your passion, setting you back down onto the sand before settling his sea-roughened hands on your hips.

Lips moving in-time with another, your heads tilt to the side to allow for a deeper angle into each other’s mouths, tongues battling for a taste. One of his hands comes up to gently cradle the back of your skull, fingers caressing your platted hair.

“I brought you something from my latest voyage.” Henry whispers against your lips, drawing back slowly. “Allow me to show it to you.”

He reaches into his leather belt and pulls out an ancient-looking gold coin with a chain strung through it. Your eyes widen at the sight, taking the coin into your palm and admiring the delicate carvings laid on the surface.

It bears a skeleton etching in the center, surrounded by an intricate array of lines and unknown symbols. Although strikingly pirate-like, you find the coin quite beautiful and you look up at your love with a smile.

“Henry, this is...so lovely, thank you.”

He seems nervous as to your reaction, visibly relaxing when the words leave your lips. “May I lay it round your beautiful neck?”

You nod, turning around to let him lay and fasten it. Once he does, you look down and take the coin between fingers, examining it for yourself while Henry leans down to kiss the spot where the little chain lays upon your neck.

“Do you like it, love?” His voice is low, breathy where it tickles your neck. “It shall serve as a reminder of me whenever it is I am away from you. I hope it will be a representation of my love and devotion when I cannot be here to show it myself.”

“I love it, Henry. I love you.”

Your lips pull up into a smile as you turn back around to face him, hands running along the buttons of his coat before you pop one open. He smirks softly, bringing his own hand up to fiddle with the ties of your nightgown.

“I believe now is the time for a proper reunion between us...”

Suddenly, he scoops you up and runs down to the water’s edge. You gasp when you realize what he’s playing at and you shriek, grabbing onto his clothes.

“Nooooo Henry!”

He laughs, teasingly swinging you back and forth. Then, his arms still and he leans over to press a kiss to your lips. “I will not throw you, poppet, I promise.”

Just as you relax, which was a big mistake, he grins and tosses you into the warm water. You screech before being submerged in the shallow Jamaican sea.

What you don’t realize is that the moment the coin touches the water, an invisible pulse is cast out over the Caribbean waters, summoning a foe of legendary proportions.

You give him a playful smack on the chest before pulling him in for a kiss when he runs up to you in only his underclothes. He’s eagerly returning your embrace, hands sliding down your wet torso until his fingers take purchase on your hips, pulling you in closer.

Your nipples are already hardening under your soaked nightgown, rubbing against his chest, the resulting sensations of which makes you moan softly into his mouth.

“Your lips taste sweeter than the mangoes on Tortuga, my love.” He whispers against you, smiling softly. “And you are just so, so beautiful. Always so beautiful.”

“Mmm, you flatter me so.” You say against his lips with a smile.

His hands creep down slowly and wrap around the globes of your ass, giving them a firm squeeze. You gasp into his mouth, cheeks warming as you chew your lip.

“Henry! Someone could catch us, you best keep your hands to yourself.” Despite your stern words and tone, you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your lips. Truthfully, you like it when he touches you in such scandalous ways.

He chuckles, bringing a hand up to hold the side of your face, thumb swiping over your cheekbone. “I know you secretly enjoy my touch, but I shall heed your words just this once.”

“Well this is a first for you, listening to me properly, Captain McHenry.”

Both of you laugh together and he lifts you up, spinning you around playfully before setting you back down in the shallow water, unable to keep from covering your damp face in kisses.

“Mmm, I figured perhaps I should give it a try.”

Just as you begin to reply, cannonball fire cuts through the silent night’s air, startling both of you as the ball collides the castle wall. Smoke from the blast lingers in the air and once it lifts, a large ship emerges from behind it, cannons drawn and prepared to rain down upon the port.

Your jaw hangs slack as you look upon the massive vessel, recognizing it from the stories, the fables read to you as a child.

But no, it is not possible...The Pearl was sunk decades ago and some even suggest that perhaps the ship never actually existed in the first place...

Henry shakes you violently, jerking you back into reality from your wandering mind.

“My love! You mustn't stand here. Go back up to the castle before they make it ashore.” He picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, sprinting out of the water. He carries you up to the edge of the beach, then sets you down, looking deep into your eyes as he holds your arms tightly. “Run as fast as you can, do not stop for any reason at all, do you understand me?”

You nod quickly, tears brimming in your eyes. “Henry, w-what will you do?”

"I will try to hold them off for as long as I can manage.” He says, reaching to draw his sword.

Your bottom lip trembles, holding his face in your hands.

“Will I ever see you again?”

Henry’s expression softens for a moment, but he nods without hesitation, putting his hand over yours and leans into your touch. “You will, I promise. We will see each other again in this lifetime, my love, I shall make sure of that.”

You nod, pulling him down for one last passionate kiss before rushing back up the hill towards the castle. You’re running as fast as you can through the village, dodging panicked villagers as they all rush around.

More cannonballs fly through the night’s sky, both from and towards the enemy and as much as you tell yourself that you shouldn’t, you stop and turn to look out for Henry, making sure he’s still alive down on the beach.

As you do so, his words echo in your mind.

‘Run as fast as you can, do not stop for any reason at all.’

With his smooth, velvety voice a calming influence in your ears, your legs suddenly begin carrying you even faster than before through the bustling dirt streets. You’re so focused on getting back up to the castle by any means possible that you aren’t surveying your surroundings properly.

Perhaps if you had, then you would’ve seen what, rather who, is so obviously coming at you. Several sets of heavy footsteps rush up behind you and then, a blunt object suddenly collides with the back of your head, causing a sharp pain spreading rapidly across your cranium.

And then, the world goes black just as your limp body falls forward and hits the unforgiving ground.

When your eyelids finally flutter open, you instantly feel sick to your stomach. You feel the liquified, chunky contents of your uneasy stomach crawling up your throat and you quickly turn your head to the side just as the first bouts spew from your lips.

Your throat feels drier than a shriveled fig after your restless stomach rids itself of its contents, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. God, everything around you is damp and the air absolutely reeks of the sea, which only further contributes to your feelings of sickness.

The salt in the air can practically be tasted on your tongue it’s so thick and you’re almost fearful of choking on it. Your limbs are rendered practically useless, ankles in heavy rusted chains while your wrists are bound tightly together in front of you with ropes.

Suddenly, the door from above-deck flies open and startles you as it slams up against the wall. Heavy, commanding footfalls bend the poor planks below and echo menacingly in your eardrums.

You look up slowly, face contorting in obvious horror as you look upon the Captain, eyes lingering over his morbidly bony appearance and thin folds of rotten flesh. If he wasn’t standing up straight and walking, anyone would believe him to be dug up from a grave.

Two ratty-looking mateys in similar bodily condition follow behind him, chuckling at your reaction to their appearances.

“Aww, I think she be scared of ya, Cap’n.”

He gives you a toothy grin, stepping up to the bars. He wags a bony finger at you, signaling you closer. “C’mere, poppet. I promise I be meanin’ ye no harm.”

“You are hardly worth my energy.” Your lip curls up into a disgusted snarl and you spat at him.

They give you a round of loud, hearty laughter in response. The Captain grins, picking his decaying teeth and running his rotten tongue over them.

“Real clever ye think ye are, eh poppet?” His faux gold teeth shimmer softly in the dull light of the oil lamp. “I be thinkin’ ye ain’t so clever, havin’ that ancient pirate’s gold hangin’ ‘tween yer tits like it be some plain ol’ necklace.”

Brows furrowed, your head tilts down and your eyes meet the glimmering gold coin currently laid between your breasts. You look up at the bony pirate with a perplexed expression.

“What do you mean? This was a gift.”

The pirates chuckle at you. “An’ I was o’er here thinkin’ ye was a smart girl. That there ain’t no ordinary necklace charm, poppet. That there’s ancient pirate’s gold. What do ye think brought the Pearl to yer port, hm?”

“I thought you were just some mad drunken pirates looking for another port to raid.” You huff. “Just like most other pirates I know.”

His eyebrows raise and he laughs. “Know many other pirates, do ye? ‘s them the damned scalleywags who gave ye that damn cursed coin?”

Sickness begins to bubble in your stomach once more. “Cursed? It is just a gold coin; by god, you all are much drunker then I ever thought possible.”

“Just a coin, she says.” The two mateys chuckle together, shaking their heads. “That ain’t ‘n ordinary coin, poppet. It be cursed treasure, damned to the mateys who disturbs her ‘till ‘s all coins be returned.”

“So what exactly are you implying, then? That I am cursed because I don this coin round my neck?”

“We’s the ones cursed, stupid girl. Ye think I always be lookin’ like this, hm? That coin is the last one we be needin’ to lift the curse and we been searchin’ these waters all these years lookin’ fer it. The gold calls to us when it hits the sea.”

Realization sets in. You were wearing it when Henry tossed you in the water earlier this evening. They followed the beacon back to the port, then straight to you...

A grin returns to the Captain’s face, then, as he watches you process the news.

“And lucky for us, a fair maiden’s blood just so happens t’ be part of the curse liftin’ ritual.”

Your eyes widen, body stiffening in shock and fear. “Who is to say I am a maiden? You make a bold assumption.”

“Ye the Gov’ner’s daughter, of course yer a maiden, a fine young virgin. ‘Else he would’a had ye beaten t’ beat till ye became an ugly maid and I see barely a cut or a scar on ye.”

“Be that as it may...” You huff. “But I assure you that half the royal Navy is out looking for me at this very moment and they likely are not far behind this ship. And as I mentioned before, I happen to know a few pirates, some of the most dangerous in the Caribbean.”

The mateys both chuckle. “Is that so? And who might that be, hm?”

“Captain Henry McHenry.” You say with a small smirk, knowing full well they should know of him.

They all look at each other for a moment with stony expressions. Suddenly, and just as they go to reply, a cannonball tears through the side of the ship.

“Christ!”

It narrowly misses you, barreling past you seemingly in slow motion, taking out your cell door and the two undead mateys along with it. You carefully peek out the gaping hole now in the side of the ship, eyes widening when you see Henry’s ship parallel to the Pearl.

He found you. He’s here to rescue you.

A small smile pulls at your lips before you turn to face the skeletal Captain once more, your smile turning into somewhat of a smirk. You have noticed that, with the natural rocking motions of the ship, one of the matey’s swords left behind has slid into your cell. With one swift leap forward, you could have it in your hands.

“I did warn you, Captain...I know some of the most dangerous pirates in the Caribbean.” You lunge forward and grab the handle of the weapon, holding it out as you rush out of your cell. “And they are here to rescue me.”

The Captain quickly draws his own weapon in bony hand and crashes it against yours, eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips. You’ve obviously never had to handle a blade before, but with the adrenaline pumping through your veins and the imperative to survive very much present, you have suddenly become a somewhat worthy adversary.

Blades clash and spark as both of you swing at one another. Your wrist quickly grows tired, but you push through, bringing your other hand up onto the handle for support. He grins when he sees you do this.

“Gettin’ a littl’ tired there are we, poppet?” He asks, giving a particularly harsh upward slash that nearly knocks the blade loose from your grip. “Hard fer a woman t’hold a heavy blade, in’it? If ye give up now, I promise not t’ throw ye to me men once ‘m done wit ye.”

Your eyes widen, then narrow, his disgusting words sending a surge of anger through you. You push up on his blade and at the same time kick him in the abdomen, sending him falling back with a groan of pain.

Without even a second of hesitation, you sprint up the stairs and open the door out onto the deck, where you’re met with a similarly chaotic scene of swinging swords and mutilated limbs of both the human and undead varieties.

Quick thinking serves you well as you spot a bit of ripped fabric flapping in the sea breeze that’s just big enough to be tied over your head as a makeshift bonnet. You quickly grab it and tie it below your chin before keeping your sword tightly at your side, hidden from plain view as you carefully walk along the edge of the ship.

By now, Henry’s ship is pushed right up against the Black Pearl and several hooks are embedded in her wooden railings. Now, you’ve just got to figure out a way to cross over to his ship without killing yourself or being killed by his men in the process...

You subtly look around the Pearl’s deck, trying to locate your beloved, but you do not see him. Suddenly, a large hand grabs your shoulder and you gasp as you’re forcefully turned around.

“Miss, you must help me find my--”

“Henry?”

His eyes widen as he takes in your alternate appearance, hand coming up to push the cloth off your head. A smile quickly breaks out across his face and he pulls you close, letting out a breath of relief.

“My love, it is really you. Oh god...”

Your eyes swell with tears, nodding against him as your arms wrap around him. “It is me, Henry.”

“I...I thought I had lost you.” He whispers, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I am so sorry that I let this happen. I failed you.”

You shake your head, sniffling as you run your fingers through his tangled, sweaty hair. “Oh, no, this is not your fault Henry. Do not blame yourself, for there was nothing you could have done. What matters is that you are here now.”

Just as he pulls back and prepares to reply, a cannonball flies right over your heads, narrowly missing the top of Henry’s. He ducks quickly and you can’t help but laugh softly.

“Perhaps we should continue this when we are not aboard the Black Pearl.”

He chuckles along with you. “Yes, I believe that is wise. Now come, let us get you back onto the ship safely.”

You follow along behind him as he fights off a few undead crew members with ease before he jumps down onto his ship’s dock. He holds his arms out and looks up at you.

“Jump, and I will catch you.”

Suddenly, the boat lurches and you nearly fall overboard into the swells of the sea below. You gasp, eyes wide as you look at him with a slightly frightened expression. He nods reassuringly.

“I promise that I will catch you, my love. Trust me.”

Looking behind you, you see that the Captain has managed to emerge from the dungeons and is limping towards you with a deadly look in his eyes. You take the leap without hesitation, pushing off as hard as you possibly can to propel yourself forward towards him.

Your eyes squeeze shut, preparing yourself for the feeling of certain death as you fly through the air between the two vessels. Your heart has stopped and the breath has caught in your throat, waiting for the fall into the abyss below.

...But it never comes.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself safe in Henry’s arms. He’s smiling down at you, lifting you up a bit to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Do not fear; you are safe now, my love.”

You lift your hand to touch the side of his face as he barks orders at the crew to pull away from the Pearl and sail back towards Port Regal. The ship pulls away from the her side and sets off quickly.

Still in Henry’s arms, you smile up at him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

“Thank you for saving me, Captain.”

Henry smiles, a small laugh leaving him as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

“You are most welcome, my love.”

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joillustrates · 3 years

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🌊A big old problem🌊

I love this this song so much! The scene amazing from the way it’s filmed to the music

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goddesstonythetiger · 3 years

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can’t believe I’m already thirsting over Boaty McBoatface over here

#I got a glance at henry mchenry and fell in love with him #annette #Adam said: here is the obsessed stalker fic of your dreams AND I’m going to sing and dance about it #I can’t take it #it’s too much #I’m 🤡🤡🤡

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brideofkylosolo · 6 months

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Fourth Flufftober is up. Hope you all enjoy it.

#flufftober #flufftober 2023 #fanfiction #fanfic #oc insert #oc insert fic #oc character #annette 2021 #henry mchenry

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paterson-blue · 2 years

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Fine Line

Summary: Henry pays you yet another visit.

Word Count: 2,372

Warnings: Dubious consent, somnophilia, consensual somnophilia, I'm serious y'all do not come for me if you get upsetty spaghetti--this is tagged for a reason, you can have a little dead dove as a treat, afab!reader, bitter!henry, mean & angry!henry, insecure!henry, jealous!henry, possessive!henry, .... it's canon henry y'all idk what you want me to say, henry mchenry is in love and he fuuuuucking hates it, cigarette smoking, passing reference to cocaine lol, degradation (sort of?), masturbation, spit as lube but also lube as lube, unprotected piv sex, creampie oop!, lil hint of breeding kink bc it's me, chance of pregnancy is ambiguous, .... harry styles cowrote with me and I will NOT face any slander for it bye – let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: This is part 2 to The Night, The Flame, but can also be read as a standalone!

Just took a sleeping pill so I’m sure I’ll be out by the time you finish up. Break a leg! Let me know when you get home safe.

Henry rereads your text as he sits backstage, cigarette clenched between his teeth. It was stupid, really, for you to ask to know when he got home if you were going to be asleep already. What was the point? What if he crashed his bike on the way back--it’s not like you’d know until the morning. He’d be cold and dead on the side of the road by then.

He thinks about calling you to tell you just that, to berate you over it as the much needed nicotine courses through his veins. But there’d be no use--you were always dead to the fuckin’ world after taking a sleeping pill. You didn’t do it often; you must be having trouble sleeping this week. Henry hates how concern bubbles up within him at the thought.

He’s been hating a lot of things recently, which he supposes isn’t new--but this time feels different from the usual.

Henry sighs in annoyance, stabbing the butt of his cigarette into the nearby ashtray before finally getting back into his street clothes. The set had been a wild success, and he’d been planning on heading into the club to join the audience members. A night of drinking, women, a little coke--he needed it, needed the stress relief. He needed to relax. He’s pretty sure the girl who flashed her tits at him would be game; or, she was last time.

And then he’d seen your stupid fucking text message, and all thoughts of anyone else went out the window.

It’s not how things were supposed to be. You were supposed to be a fun piece of ass that he could come fuck whenever he wanted. That’s how it started, and that’s what you’d agreed to. You wanted to use his body as much as he wanted to use yours, and the two of you were fine with that arrangement.

But now he can’t fucking sleep with anyone else. He doesn’t want to sleep with anyone else, only you. And christ, the thought of you in another man’s bed makes Henry see red. He knows he can’t be the one you want, not all of him--not anything other than his cock. He gets it; he’s beyond fucked up and you’re not, and you both know it. He’s good in bed, he’s confident in that. But what else can he provide?

God fucking dammit he wants to scream. He’s so fucking frustrated, his previous plans dashed. All his earlier urges, his thoughts of the indulgences the club can provide--they’re gone. His fingertips twitch, and he fumbles for another cigarette on instinct, taking in a deep inhale as soon as it's lit.

He knows what he wants--what he needs. And he’s going to get it.

He takes long drags of his cigarette as he grabs his motorcycle helmet and heads outside to his bike, flatly ignoring anyone who tries to talk to him. He’s on a mission now, and he doesn’t feel like interruptions.

It doesn’t take long to get to your flat, the journey one that he’s made what feels like hundreds of times. He thinks he can make the trip with his eyes closed, each and every turn familiar, his subconscious guiding him until he parks, shutting off his bike and letting the night fall quiet.

Henry stares up towards your balcony, taking a couple deep breaths. He itches for another smoke, but he resists the urge—he doesn’t need another hit of nicotine when he has you.

He’s done this before, come to you at night while you were sleeping. It’s the entire reason you gave him a key to your place. He hadn’t wanted to take the token at first, too scared of what a key represented, too worried about what it insinuated. But you’d made such a convincing argument as to why he needed one—told him you knew he got antsy after a show, and you’d be available to him even while you slept, unconscious to his actions.

Well how could he have said no?

Yes, Henry’s done this more than enough times now to have everything down to a science. He knows how to let himself in silently, knows where to step so the floors don’t creak. It wouldn’t make a difference really—you won’t wake up, and he knows it—but it just enhances the experience, pretending that you might.

He knows you’ll be sprawled out in bed naked; you always said you got too hot at night. He knows how to move you ever so gently, letting your legs fall open to reveal your sweet, gorgeous pussy. He knows where you keep the lube; knows exactly what he needs to make sliding into you slick and easy.

He forgoes the condom this time. Usually he wore one in order to prevent any mess—to try to leave no trace of himself, so you’d be none the wiser when you awoke. But not tonight. Tonight, he’s on edge, possessive, irritated with the feelings you cause within him. He’s going to make a mess of you, leave it for you to find in the morning.

He’s going to fucking show you just who you belong to.

He’s already hard as he unzips his jeans, palming his cock through his briefs. It’s not surprising—doing this always got him going. You’re so fucking beautiful like this, spread out and vulnerable for him. The prettiest, most obscene picture for his eyes only.

Mine, he thinks to himself as he shoves his underwear down his thighs, gaze greedy. He can’t help but suck his thumb into his mouth, wetting it before moving his hand between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You twitch in your sleep, cunt pulsing--begging for his cock.

He considers pulling you to the edge of the bed--kneeling and tasting you, coating his tongue with your slick. It’s just as much for him as it is for you, though Henry’s loath to admit it. Part of the appeal, though, is your response to him--your moans, your sighs, the wriggle of your hips against his face, your fingers gripping, twisting, pulling at his hair. The pain is a high stronger than any drug can give him; your noises, euphoria. He has none of it if you’re asleep, yet he doesn’t want to wake you and spoil the current moment.

It’s another frustrating contradiction. You’ve never made things easy for him.

Henry warms the lube in his palm before giving his cock a couple strokes; it twitches in his hand, overeager. His gaze trails over your body up to your face, expression lax and peaceful where your cheek is nuzzled into your pillow. He thinks about what it would be like to have this--have you--every night. He imagines a world where he comes home to you, pulls you into his arms, rests his head on the pillow next to yours and tells you sweet, beautiful, stupid little things.

It’s unrealistic and he knows it--makes his heart clench up in his chest. That ugly green feeling rises within him once again to replace his sorrow.

Sometimes, Henry thinks he loves you so much that he hates you.

It’s a fine line.

He jerks his cock the way he wants to fuck you: hard and fast and ferocious, squeezing himself tight. His chest heaves as he struggles to gasp in quiet breaths; his lungs feel heavy, suffocated by his irrational anger, his jealousy, his resentment. Henry knows he could let go of his feelings--could free himself from the darkness that swirls in his head, in his heart. But, if he did that, he knows what feelings he would have left, and love is a far scarier thing than bitterness.

He fights the urge to wake you--to pound into you mercilessly, a hand around your throat, making you cry out for him as he stares into your eyes. He wants to punish you for making him love you, for making him weak, for making him hopeless and discontent. But, he’ll save that for later. Because he knows, despite what he tells himself, there will always be a later. He can’t stay away from you long, and you always--impossibly--welcome him back.

Instead, he forces his hands to stop their incessant movement; the lack of stimulation makes his hips jerk. Wiping his hands on the sheets, he clambers onto your bed; his cock bobs between his legs, hard and drooling. You stir slightly, and Henry settles his palms on your knees, watching your face intently--still, you remain unconscious. As soon as you settle back down, Henry wraps his long fingers around your upper thighs, spreading you open just how he needs in order for him to shuffle closer.

Your cunt twitches when he notches the head of his cock to your pretty little hole, as if trying to pull him in. It makes him groan--quietly, low in his throat. He’s already close, cock throbbing as he rubs the head through your soft folds. You’re relaxed enough like this--and probably still open from last night--that he can press in with little resistance. You make a noise akin to a sigh, but Henry’s too entranced by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock inch by inch to check and see if you’re waking up.

It’s perfect, though it always is, having you on his cock. The lube slicks the way just enough for him to press in deep, holding himself there as your cunt flutters around him, adjusting to the intrusion. He’s so on edge--physically, emotionally, mentally; just this is enough to make his balls pulse. Henry allows himself a couple slow strokes, muscles tense as he moves his hips in deliberate, steady thrusts. Your walls grip him tight, hot and soft, sucking him back in as soon as he starts to pull out. He thinks, idly, that he could stay like this all night. Maybe he should lay down, pull you back against his chest--press his cock into you from behind, let your warm pussy milk him until morning while he nuzzles his face into your neck.

But it’s too soft a dream; too intimate an image--it’s not something he deserves. And, more than that: it’s not something he’s ever wanted before. You’ve turned him into someone else.

Henry clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth. Fucking pathetic, he thinks, both of us. Gathering saliva in his mouth, he lets it drip down onto the top of your mound before spreading it around your clit with his thick fingers. It’s messy and unrefined; if you were awake, you’d probably do that thing where you pretend not to like it. He hates that he knows your each and every reaction.

As it is, your pussy clenches on his cock, your body still giving away how much you want it even while unconscious. Each little movement of your hips, each hitch in your breathing, each furrow of your brow pulls Henry closer and closer to the edge. He rubs your clit leisurely; he’s practiced enough to know exactly how much you need to make you cum without jolting you awake.

He swears he can feel your cunt getting wetter and wetter the more he works you; he pulls out just enough to check, and groans quietly when he sees the sheen of your slick coating his cock. Pressing back into you makes him shudder, and the movement of his fingers gets sloppy; he’s desperate to feel you break, desperate to watch you shiver through your peak. He doesn’t have to wait much longer.

You make a whimper that cuts off almost as soon as it begins, a pretty frown decorating your once peaceful facial features--and then, all of a sudden, your hard little clit is pulsing underneath Henry’s fingertips. He clamps his teeth down onto his bottom lip to muffle himself as your pussy squeezes around his sensitive cock, pulling his orgasm from him. It’s all too easy: your soft walls milking him, the knowledge that you’re unaware of what you’re doing. Your body wants his cum, wants him--he’s your most basic desire. He won’t deny you what you need.

Henry’s fingertips circle your clit until your hips jerk, wanting to ride the wave of your orgasm as long as he can. The heat of his cum floods your pussy, coating his cock, leaking out onto the sheets; it makes his head spin to think that maybe--just maybe--it’ll take root. That he’ll place a piece of himself inside of you, that you’ll let that hint of darkness grow. He heaves in a sharp breath, goosebumps peppering his skin. Don’t make a fool out of yourself, the sneering voice in his head tells him.

He doesn’t move for a while after your aftershocks fade, ignoring his aching knees as he savors the moment. It’s quiet in the darkened room aside from his trembling breaths and the faint noise of the city outside. You still haven’t woken, even with the sheen of sweat decorating your skin and his cum sticking to your inner thighs. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe this is how the two of you last. Him stealing little moments while sparing you having to be with him--maybe this was the only way he can know you.

Henry shakes the thought from his mind, finally spurring his body into motion. He doesn’t bother cleaning himself up this time, just watches the creamy white of his cum drip from your pussy as he tucks his cock back into his briefs. It makes such a pretty picture that he wants to document it, but he’s already overstayed his welcome and he knows it. So he leaves the scene as it is: your legs spread akimbo, sloppy cunt on display, sheets stained. That angry little voice within him raises its ugly head once more, telling him it’s what you deserve. He shoves the words away, draping one of your quilts over your bare form as gently as he can.

When he gets back to the safety of his apartment, he shoots you a text just as you’d requested.

Made it home. Sleep well.

_______________________________

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