Excuse For Not Being That Active, But School Has Been Kicking My Butt And I Need To Feel Like Henry Would

Hi my doves<3 I don’t really have any ideas for writing

I wondered if you could send some DRABBLE(a short little scenario) requests

Any TSH character orrrrrrr even Cillian Murphy or any his characters, can be both smut and fluff

My inbox is open, I will be waiting:)

Ideas for fanfics:

They argue and don’t talk for a few days. Henry is a nervous wreck and she seems like she is completely unbothered by it. A but of drama. And they make up at the end.

Him being jealous, would also be great.

And one about their first kiss or first time admitting to each other that they have feelings for each other.

Oh my god, I LOVE THESE and I love when you give me ideas:)

I will definitely see what I can do to make these ideas come true:) (look at me ryming and being a poet on tumblr)

heyy!! do you ever do male y/n's for your tsh fics??

Heyy, I’m always saying that I will and then I don’t:(

But I see that I have quite some requests for male!reader tsh fics so let me see what I can do:)

Chapter One

The first proper chapter!

As you could already see, this story plays in a different time, so don’t get upset at what the characters say or do.

Please please please tell me your opinions on it and most importantly, enjoy:)

warnings: mentions of murder, death faking, classic Henry Winter behaviour

summary: Henry is on his way to his new home and he reflects on the last couple of weeks.

word count: 2k

Prologue to this fanfiction

1948

He was a free man now, but at the same time he wasn’t.

At least the restless nights were over, he didn’t have to worry about the police coming any second to bust his door down and arrest him. Even though deep down he knew that his father would shoot anyone who dares to lay a hand on his son. But, the freedom he was always destined to live came with a price. He had to sooner or later, so it didn’t really matter anymore. He had his Hampden years as only his, as a brand new person, but after he should have graduated he was supposed to get back where he really belongs. He didn’t need a diploma, when you’re the son of one of the wealthiest and powerful man in the world, you need anything but a stupid diploma. He went there, purely because he wanted to. He wanted to be someone else for a while, he wanted to study languages and adore literature, art. He was lucky to find the people he called his friends, well, some of them were a burden. Bunny Corcoran made himself a burden and Charles Macaulay was born a burden. But Francis Abernathy and Richard Papen were good men with no bad intentions and he liked having them around. And then there was his little love, Camilla, he believes that he loves her, but then again he has absolutely no clue what love is, but his feelings for Camilla were the closests things to it. However, if he loved her, why did he leave her so easily? Wasn’t it supposed to be a hard choice choosing between her or his powerful freedom? The answer doesn’t even matter anymore, nothing that happened in those years and few months matters anymore. Things happened the way they happened and it is time for new beginnings. He was a brand new man, the one he was always supposed to be and the one he left behind is dead, at least to everyone else.

He stared out the window of his family’s private plane. His cigarette dangling from his lips mirrored his father, who sat in front of him, also with a burning cigarette between his lips. He was his father’s twin, the same pale skin, same big height and the same raven dark hair, but he got his bright eyes from his dear mother.

The stewardess, who was also the family’s maid, came in with a tray, two crystal glasses and a bottle of fine scotch. The silver haired woman poured both of them an inch.

“Laura, dear.” Henry’s father said “the boy had a hard time, don’t shy away with the scotch.”

“Yes, Mr.Sinclair.” She said as she poured a few more inches.

When she left the lounge of the plane, Henry reached forward and downed down his drink in one go, his father immediately went to pour him more. He was a ruthless and powerful man, so was his wife, Mrs.Sinclair. But they adored their only child and son, they did what they did not only to carry on their family’s name and reputation, but to give their son everything he could ever want. However, this life came with sacrifices, he would learn that soon enough.

“Look at me, son.” Mr.Sinclair said in a firm tone, so he did. “I know how hard this must be, I understand. Me and your mother will give you time to heal, but that comes with accepting what you have to do. You are the heir who will keep up the magnificent Sinclair name, you will get into business and you will do your duty with honor, like a good man.”

Henry nods slowly and takes a long drag from his cigarette. “I know, father. I had my fun and now it is time.”

“Very well, my son.” He suddenly snickered to himself. “Two murders, huh? Your heritage cannot be denied. However the ancient sex ritual was a new addition.”

Oh yes, when the events in Hampden heightened Henry went home for a weekend and told his parents everything, every single detail. With a life like theirs, there are not many things that can suprise them. They listened to everything and came up with a solution and a perfect plan that suggests a fake tragedy. It took careful and perfect planning.

He needed someone to snap, his first subject would have been Richard, but then Camilla called him in the middle of the night when Charles had hurt her. This version of the plan was better, he would provoke Charles until he did something stupid, he drove up to Francis’s country house on one weekend and put Francis’s aunts beretta in Charles’s room. He left the door open at the inn’s room and waited for Charles to come. The beretta had 2 bullets and the third would be a fake one that had piglet blood in it. He also gave a bit of drug to everyone without them noticing, he hid a bottle of whisky in Charles’s room with drugs mixed in it. Then the second Richard told him that he is there at the estate and drunk, he knew that the plan was on. He ordered room service and wine, when Camilla went to freshen up, he also put the drugs in her glass of wine. He hoped that Francis and Richard would show up desperate and shaken up, when they did he was pleased that they took big gulps from Camilla’s glass of wine, he needed everyone’s mind fuzzy. He paid attention to their body language that got more slumped by the minute. When Charles busted in the door, it was game time. He was confident, he was a Sinclair for fuck’s sake, he knew self defense like no one and he had reflexes as sharp as a knife, Charles was no competition. The first gunshot to the window and the second to poor Richard’s stomach, he held the gun in his hands now. There were heavy knocks on the door, it was time. He pulled the trigger, he felt the fake bullet hit his temple and explode with the pig blood, he dropped to the floor and tried to stay as still as he could. The others were too shocked and their heads fuzzy. He smiled smugly to himself when he felt the blanket on him, bless Francis. His father’s men came acting like the police and took him out of there, straight to the private plane.

“You will get over it.” His father interrupted his train of thought. “But, you have to know one thing and keep it in your head, always.”

“What is it?” He was desperate for some good advice.

“Henry Winter is dead, it is time for you to be who you really are supposed to be. Henry Sinclair.”

Henry smiled at that, he would never say it out loud but he felt better being Henry Sinclair, his true self.

Henry Winter was someone he used for his Hampden years, Winter was his mother’s maiden name and he put it to good use. He didn’t need anyone recognizing the Sinclair name.However, there was one thing he never planned. Falling in love with a certain twin blonde girl, if this meant falling in love, he wasn’t sure. He felt protective over her, wanted to protect her as long as he could. But how could he lay beside her at night knowing that he was going to leave her? He didn’t mean to hurt her, she was better off without him and Charles, he just hoped he stayed away from her.

His mother joined them in the lounge, as he walked beside her son she caressed his dark hair and she sat beside her husband.

“It will get easier, honey. I know your heart aches for that blonde girl twin, she will get over it too. Just like your friends. What matters is that the plan went perfectly, and now we have you here with us.”

She threw back a few inches of her husband’s scotch and smiled at her family.

“Paris will wash all your troubles away. You will see the wonderful business of our family, get to know some new friends, join us to magnificent balls and parties.” She smirked at him slyly, he knew that smile of hers, he knew what was coming. “And who knows? You might meet a nice sweetheart and hold her close to your heart.”

“Paris does show you true love, son.” His father says and puts his hands on his mother’s, his fingertips touching her wedding band.

“Yeah, sure. I am fine by myself, thank you.” Henry rolled his eyes, the scotch in his head brought out his attitude. His parents shared a knowing look.

There was a heavy silence now, all three of them lost in their own thoughts. Until Laura, their maid, came in and informed them of their schedule.

“The pilot just announced that the plane will land in an hour, a driver will be waiting at the airport and he will be taking you to your apartment.”

“Actually, Laura,” said Mr.Sinclair. “Henry will be taken to his own apartment.” He wrote an address on a piece of paper and gave it to the maid. “Get another driver and give him the address. Thank you, Laura.”

The maid left and Henry gave a peek to his parents who were already looking at him with smug smiles.

“Thank you, father, mother.” He really was grateful, what he needed was his own space, alone with his thoughts. All he wanted was to finally sleep some and then have some good old silence. Which he could never have, his head and brain were always running and thinking. He needed a good book to concentrate on, or maybe if he emptied his mind down to his diary, he could feel relieved. Or perhaps, if only he had Camilla by his side, he could put his stress somewhere else… Whatever, he should just get himself together and flip the page.

“You will feel much better when we arrive.” Mrs.Sinclair stood up and started to leave the lounge. “I will sort the luggages for the landing.” And with that, she left. Leaving father and son, alone.

“There is more to life than books and ancient languages, Henry. Until you settle down, there are always good ways to cope with stress. Like… Beautiful women, eager to please.” Here we go…

“You kn—“ he tried interrupting.

“I know, I know. Not my business, you have your own private life and I know it. But, so you know. The building we own, where you will live in the apartment, has a little section for pleasure. If you want anything or anyone, pick up the phone and you shall have it. So you know.”

“Alright. I will think about it.” He won’t.

Don’t you get him wrong, he liked to have sex. He liked being inside of a woman, feeling her warmth everywhere and holding her close. He liked seeing pleasure consume her body and seeing it on her face. While he was in Hampden he always found a nice girl to fuck, he didn’t use women, he gave them all the pleasure they could want and he put their pleasure in front of his, always. But he was dead to the one woman he felt really hungry for, some whore or anyone for that matter will not do the job. Right now, he just wanted to get to the place he will call his home and rest for a while.

But for now, he can at least close his eyes knowing that Henry Winter is dead, he can now focus on one thing and one thing only.

Being his true self, Henry Sinclair.

@celestialpoetry ‘s request, thank you for the support dove<3

I kind of based this character off of Meredith from If We Were Villains, which is my current read:)

summary: Henry meeting an embodiment of seducement and finding himself lusting after her

Temptress

Henry’s point of view:

The first time I saw her, I thought that it was the cigarette that clouded my vision. It even went through my head that I only imagined her.

But, it instantly cleared my doubts when I saw her multiple times later.

I only saw her from far-apart, and as time went by, I started to know more about her from here and there. She was in theatre, she dropped in mid-semester, no one knew where she came from and why she came to Hampden. Her hair was golden as the Sun, and always made in a nice way. Depending on how her hair was styled I knew what phase was she going through. If she was busy with exams, memorizing lines and running from practice to practice, her hair was trapped in a french twist. If she was relaxed and free, her hair was framing her face and back like a lion’s huge mane.

Her face, oh, her gorgeous face. She was beautiful, and the fact that she was aware of it and knew how to use it made it all better. Thick eyelashes, delicately curved nose, full lips caught between teeth, lusty eyes. Her body had curves that I wished I could grip into, her silky looking skin was hugged by silk or lace or fur.

She was sex on legs. A nymph. A goddess of seducement. A temptress.

No other woman had as much of an effect on me like she did. She lit a fire up within me with a single gaze of those eyes. She made me jealous of the people and even the wind that surrounded her. I wanted to suffocate any man that came closer to her.

The only contact I had with her was when our eyes met here and there. Whenever they did, she wasn’t shy, she let her eyes run up and down my body, she licked her those plush lips, bit them and let a sly smirk rest upon them. I smirked back at her and winked at her, I threw my manners out the window and checked her out.

Until one night, it was a cold night. I had an urging need to write, but my apartment couldn’t make the atmosphere I felt most inspired in. I put on a wool sweater instead of a shirt and I made my way toward the college’ library in my car. In the parking lot, I saw a blood red vintage car. The secluded library’s window showed that the fireplace within was lit up, someone was in there. I was fine with it as long as the person didn’t bother me with any annoying little habits.

I immediately felt my body relax at the warmth of the library, the warmth coming from the centre. The centre had a fireplace, a big rug in front of it and leather couches and armchairs that I was quite fond of. So, I made my way over to the centre.

My heartbeat quickened when I heard the voice from far apart.

“As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.

But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;

And for her sake do I rear up her boy,

And for her sake I will not part with him.”

Her honey-sweet voice hit my ears, she was practising her lines.

A few seconds later, she came into my vision. She was walking around on the rug, in front of the fireplace, a lit cigarette stuck between her slender, elegant fingers and her nails were painted blood red. How I wished that those fingers were caressing my skin and stroking my co—

“Hello there, Winter.” I was too lost in my perverse fantasies to notice that she turned around and now was looking at me with those seductive eyes of hers.

“Good evening.” I nodded and sat down on one of the couches. “Practise?”

She sat down on the same one as I did and took a long drag of her cigarette. “Trying to, if I’m honest I didn’t even come here to practise.”

I looked at her with awaiting eyes, gesturing to her to continue.

She streched her slender body and tucked her knees into her chest, I couldn’t help but glance down where her knees pushed against her delicate breasts. I wanted to devour her completely, I felt my trousers tighten at a million more fantasies of how I could make her mine and mine alone.

“The apartment above mine is having a gathering.”

“Are they drinking and stomping?”

“Almost, they are having an orgy.” She smirked at me, while taking a big gulp out of her flask.

I chuckled softly. “Good for them, I suppose.”

There was a comfortable silence between us. I looked at her to steal a glance, only to find her already looking at me with hooded eyes. She had a little smile on her lips, she suddenly reached up toward me and offered me her flask. I didn’t even care what she was offering me, she could have given me poison in it and I would have drank it eagerly. It sent a heatwave down my spine when I put my lips exactly where the print of her lipstick was.

“It’s a dirty martini.” She said when I gave it back to her.

“I could tell, it’s really good. Did you make it?” It really was good, the olive taste and sweetness mingled perfectly together.

“I’m glad you liked it, yes I made it. I have too much fun making all kinds of cocktails. When I was in my late teenage years, I worked in a bar, that’s where I learnt it all.” She was looking forward, as if she was telling tales to the fire. Her hands blindly reached for another cigarette, and so did I.

I couldn’t help, but smile at her. When she was talking about something she was enthusiastic about her eyes weren’t holding that lustful gaze of hers, more like wider, adorable eyes that reminded me of a doe.

I lit my cigarette with ease, and I noticed that her lighter was refusing to light up. “Oh damn it! It’s out, little fucker.” She mumbled under her breath.

Suddenly, she turned her head around to look me in the eyes..

There was something about her at that moment. Her hair was long and big, I wished to stroke it and pull it at the same time. The cigarette was between her lips that were painted a dark red. Her skirt rid up to the top of her thighs. I was lured in, and lured in deep.

She slowly crawled towards me from across the couch, when she got close, she supported herself on my knees. She leaned closer to my face, with a sultry look that made me want to fall to my knees at her every wish.

“Henry?” She whispered.

“Y/N?” I whispered back to her.

She leaned into my ear, I could smell her sweet scent all around me, I wanted to drown in it. My arms tightening with the need to just wrap themselves around her and show her pleasure on earth.

“Would you light my cigarette, please?” She leaned away and giggled, she was very well aware of the effect she left on me.

I lit my lighter up and she leaned into it, lighting the ashes to life. “You know what this means? When you light someone’s cigarette?”

I shook my head softly, there was an adoring smile on my face. She slowly got up and gathered her things, she stopped in front of me and said the answer.

“I’m your bitch now.” She smirked, everyone wanted her to be their bitch, I was no different. But, at the same time I was, I wanted to give her the world and worship her.

“And are you?” I smirked back at her in challenge, I was always up for a game.

“Do you want me to be?” She tilted her head in front of me, looking me up and down discreetly, there was hunger in her eyes, she had hunger for me.

I put my cigarette down and took hers too. I stood up and towered over her, my broad body nearly swallowing hers up. I let my fingers caress her hair and then wander to her cheeks, it was like caressing silk.

“I want you to be.” I whispered. “Let me take you out on a date, treat you nice, show you how you should be cherished. Let me give you the world.”

She closed her eyes, she loved to hear the words I said, and she loved that I was the one who said it. Behind that sultry gaze, I saw that she wanted me, and wanted me deeply.

She got up on her tiptoes and her lips were hovering over my ear. “If you want me, show it to me, show me that you really mean what you said. And then, if you are a winner, you may claim your prize.”

My blood stopped when I felt her plush lips press against my neck.

After many long seconds, she leaned away, winked at me and made her way out. From the window I could see the red vintage car driving away, of course it was hers.

I took my previous seat and watched the fire. She was playing hard to get, I loved it. I wanted to work for her love, I was fucking game.

I took my writing notebook out and I wrote one thing on the top of the page.

Temptress.

I found my muse.

———————

Yes, this will have another part dw I got you<3

Please, let me know what you think and thank you for reading:)

I am a HUGE Henry Winter apologist, still, I admit that he did awful things here and there.

BUT nobody, and I mean nobody, can tell me that the only reason he wanted Camilla, was to make Richard feel bad.

It is mentioned multiple times that he was always fond of Camilla and that she made him smile (bless her dear heart)

So, he may be cold and all, but he had true feelings for Camilla, and when she needed help, he was willing to do anything to protect her.

Case dismissed.

Hello!

Would you doves enjoy a Henry Winter fanfic that would be written in Richard Papen’s point of view?

I have this idea in my head and I am interested if you would like it.

xoxo, Rosemary <3

Why aren't we talking about the fact that Henry marks his place in his books WITH A RIBBON?!

He is a little coquette princess:)) and I adore him for it.

hi dear

honestly LOVE the way you write

tbh i need me a henry

Thank youu, to think that my writing is entertaining to people means the world to me:)

Tbh SAME

Eat Me

Here is the first Camilla writing!

I did not proofread it, so excuse me if it has mistakes.

And happy school season! Your dearest girl also already packed a 100% latin exam in her pocket:)) (Henry be proud of me!!!)

warnings: mainly fluff, a teeny tiny bit of smut, this fluff is also dripping with average greek class activities and homosexuality:)

summary: you and Camilla make sunday night dinner in your shared apartment and get distracted.

word count: 1k

Camilla’s point of view:

It was a warm Sunday night.

I was splayed across our couch in the apartment, reading a book. My lips instantly tilted upwards when I heard the door open, I knew who was coming.

Seconds later, she appeared in the doorway, looking like the gorgeous sweetheart she was, holding a brown bag that was filled to the brim. I instantly rushed to her help, which she thanked with a loud relieved sigh and it was music to my ears, even though I nearly snapped my arm in half because of the heavy bag.

I carried it to the kitchen and she followed after me. I put it down the counter and when I turned her way, she pushed me against the counter and gave me a heated kiss. I, with zero hesitation, kissed her back.

We pulled away breathlessly and she rested her forehead against mine.

“I missed you, Milly.” She whispered and it made me smile. My sweet girl.

“I missed you too.” I caressed her blushed cheeks. “Was your study session successful?” Whenever she needed to study or write properly, she went to the library. The reason for that is because she knew if she was studying at our shared apartment, I would be a big big distraction for her.

A month ago, she had to analyse and translate a few poems. The rain was pouring like crazy and she decided to study here at our place, but she made me promise to not be a distraction. I obviously couldn’t help myself, I crawled under the desk and tasted my darling. She gave in to me and let me pleasure her, after she had her blinding orgasm, she abandoned her papers and punished me for distracting her. She teased and edged me ‘till dawn until I was crying, begging for her to do something.

Given that it was a Sunday night, dinner for our class had to be made. We decided on spaghetti.

“I also bought a few things for the fridge, and some chocolate.” She smirked at me as we began packing the stuff away.

“Thank you, you know me too well, y/n.” I was on my period and my already sweet tooth became even sweeter.

We started on the sauce and the meatballs. We needed very few words to understand each other and we finished rather quickly. We just had for the water to boil.

For the time being, we went back to the living room and took my previous spot on the couch, except now I had my darling’s delicate body on mine. She reached for the book I was reading and read the cover, it was a collection of Sappho’s poems. “Ironic.”

“Sure is.” We just grinned at each other and suddenly connected our lips together.

“We have like 20 minutes until the pasta is proper, sooo… We could do a lot of fun stuff in 20 minutes.”

With that she straddled me and I sat up with my legs bent so we could be closer. She grabbed the back of my neck and I gripped on her hair.

It started out slow and sensual. As the minutes got by, the more heated we became in our making out session. I had to get more of her, I basically ripped her blouse off of her and I let out a moan when I saw her full tender breasts caged in a lacy bra. I caressed her soft skin.

She returned the favour and helped me take my sweater off, she was pleased to find that I had no bra underneath.

She pulled her skirt upwards and changed her position, so now our clothed centers were rubbing against each other. I kissed around her nipples and she kissed me again by gripping my hair and guiding my lips to hers. We pressed our chests tightly together while we grinded desperately with loud moans and pants.

In the heat of the moment, we didn’t even hear the door opening and the footsteps coming closer. We carried on undisturbed, until…

“Having fun without me?” A sly voice said.

We looked at each other heaving, smirking and we then turned towards the voice. She got off me and went to our guest, nearly naked, only her skirt covering her body.

“Bonsoir, François.” She said with her honey sweet voice in french, it always did something to me. She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the mouth.

I didn’t even bother to get up from the couch, I was laying there flushed and also bare chested. Francis came over to me and gave me a smooch too.

While y/n went to pour him a drink, he sat down on the couch and put my legs on his lap, caressing my calves. Me and y/n were partners, but we were very close to Francis too, we knew that our relationship will always remain unharmed by him. We made sure to include him in our activities from time to time when we both craved a man’s touch too.

“So this is how you make dinner, huh?” He winked at me and I gave him a playful kick. “Ouch!” He faked being hurt. “No need to abuse me for honesty, Milly!”

At the nickname he earned himself another kick. “Ca-mil-la is my name.”

“But y/n calls you Milly!” He cried.

“Y/n is special.” Just as I said that, she came into the room with a tray that had three big glasses of wine. She nuzzled herself on Francis’s lap while also being between my legs.

“Heard that, deary? I’m special!” She joked.

We talked and joked for a bit, slowly becoming more and more tipsy on the wine, waiting for our last guest for the night.

We even stayed in the same position when our mystery guest made his arrival. He froze in his steps at the sight of us, me and y/n nearly naked with Francis caressing us warmly. Henry then smirked and said before making himself comfortable on the armchair in front of us. “Doing it like the Greeks I see?”