Set Me Free

Set me Free

Summary:  Part Two to Let Me In - After a night of being an asshole, getting drunk and then falling asleep when you were just finally getting into the mood. The Captain wakes up finding himself in somewhat of a pickle.

Read Part One

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Reader (You)

Word count: 4.1K

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Male Sub / FemDom, bondage, sex toys (woman playing with a vibrator), oral preformed on a male and a female (face-sitting), power play, teasing, unprotected sex, bodily fluids. All the good stuff.   

A/N: SmuttyWeekend Commences! Guys this is my first MaleSub and I was struggling with it being a FemSub. So please gimmie feedback. 😥😥😥😥 Many thanks to @agniavateira who edits my work.

Title: Set me Free

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Yes, professor

A/N: I watched Sandcastle. I’m ruined.

Feedback feeds the soul, my loves! Requests are always open.

MASTERLIST

HENRY CAVILL + CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairings: College!Professor!Cap. Syverson x female reader (no descriptiors)

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI, please), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, unprotecetd sex, language, age gap (reader is over 18)

Everybody knew Professor Syverson. There wasn’t a soul on campus, who didn’t - even the new students knew about him, and hushed whispers about him rang through the halls at all times.

Mostly the women talked about his thighs, his arms and his crooked smile. He was a retired captain from the army and got a tenure to teach modern history 1 at your college, and had apparently made the entire faculty and student body lose their collective minds.

You hadn’t been to a class of his yet, but you knew him. He was a force in the hallways, a big, somewhat scary demeanour that made people in the halls part like the red sea. He was handsome in that brooding, bulking way and you had spotted him several times having to go through doorways sideways. He terrified you slightly. A lot of people also said he was a hard professor, both to impress but also in his teachings - he took no shit, no being late, nothing and you had wondered if the military ever really left anybody.

So when your finally got your classes for this semester, you had groaned and instantly regretted to take the stupid class in the first place, but when you signed up, i was professor Castle who had taught, a gentle, sweet man in his late 50’s.

You decided to at least try to join a class or two before asking to be transferred to another class. There was no reason to write it off before you’d even tried it.

The only problem now? You were late. By ten minutes. You had rushed through the halls, chest heaving and now, as you stood in front of the door to the lecture hall, you were seriously considering just skipping it.

Instead you grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, stepping inside and hurried to an empty seat - which, of course, only was on the front rows. Wonderful.

“Miss Y/L/N, did you not read my mail?” His voice rang clear as day through the hall. It was stern and dark, and he hadn’t even looked up from his papers. You grimaced and sat down, wondering briefly how he knew your name before remembering his list of students - you were probably the only one who wasn't present as he called out names.

“Sorry.” “Not good enough. I’ll let it slide for this time…” He looked to you, stopping himself mid sentence as his eyes roamed your chest and face, a devious smile playing at the corner of his lips. “But I’ll need you to see me in my office after hours.” You nodded and bit your lip. Great, not even a week into the semester, and you were already going to get written up.

“Think you can manage getting there on time?” Your face was burning.

“Yes, sir.” “Good girl.” Your breath hitched at the voice it almost sounded like praise and his southern drawl made his voice smoother than whiskey.

“Now, back to the Second Congo War…”

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

You had been writhing in your seat during the full lecture. He kept glancing at you, that fucking smile on his lips, exposing his teeth slightly and it made you feel hot every time you saw a flash of his fucking fangs. He must’ve known how you were feeling, because he constantly called on you and you were wildly unprepared for a quiz.

His arms were bulging against the buttoned, light blue shirt he was wearing, and a part of you wondered if a quick movement would rip the fabric in half as he crossed his arms and leaned against the desk in the middle of the room. You kept zoning out, focusing more on his arms, thighs and that one goddamn vein in his neck that kept popping out.

He had caught you staring a few times and each time, a smirk had graced his lips and he had cleared his throat, making your cheeks burn and you to look down as quickly as you could.

“Alright, get caught up to the reading, I’ll have your goddamn heads if you show up unprepared tomorrow. Y/L/N, down here.” He said as the class finished beckoning you down with a finger, his eyes on the papers on the table. You walked down to him, painfully aware of your bare legs and the triangle of slick that had gathered in your underwear during class.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” He looked at you with a lifted eyebrow. “I don’t tolerate students being late.” He said, sitting down and crossing his leg over his knee, leaning back - he looked fucking dangerously sinful. “I’m sorry, I got lost in the hall…” You started. “I don’t care. If I have class, you’re here.” You nodded. “If I call your name, you better answer correctly, darlin’, or I’ll have your ass.” You felt your cheeks heat up yet again. “Yes, sir.” His eyes gleamed. “My office. 30 minutes.” He dictated and you didn’t dare do anything else but nod again. “Yes, sir.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand and you quickly left, cheeks on fire and an unsettling heat in your stomach.

You went straight to the bathroom, splashing water on your face and adjusted your shirt. “Get it the fuck together.” You whispered to yourself before rushing to the cafeteria and bought a bottle of water, chugging it and glanced at the clock. You might as well be early.

You sat on the wooden chair outside of his office, watching the time tick away, and a minute before time was up, you stood, smoothed your skirt down, drew a deep breath and knocked.

“Yes?” His voice rang out. You walked inside and shut the door behind you. “Lock it.” You followed orders, although you were unsure why.

He had shed his blue shirt and sat in a tattered Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt that splayed across his chest - it looked like it was about to pop at the seams.

“Sit.” You did and looked at him, your hands folded in your lap. He let his eyes wander your body, resting shortly at the swell of your breasts. He stood up and leaned over the desk, his face inches from yours. He was intoxicating, his blue eyes hard and a scent of harpics and pine lingered over him.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He asked in a brash voice. You nodded and he narrowed his eyes. “Words.” He practically spat at you.

“Yes, sir.” “Why?” You shifted a little in the chair, and felt your skirt ride up - you saw his eyes quickly dart to the exposed skin.

“I was late.” He hummed and stepped around the desk to stand against it in front of you. “And?” You frowned. And what? “I’m sorry?” He crossed his arms.

“And you weren’t focused or prepared for class.” You sighed. “I’m really sorry, I had an off day, and I…” You trailed off at the glare he sent you. He pushed off of the desk and placed his hands on the chair, capturing you in between his arms.

“I don’t care if you watched your dog die in front of you, you either tell me you aren’t prepared or aren't showing up, or you. Fucking. Show. Up.” His voice was dangerously low.

“Yes, sir.” He drew a deep breath and sent you a smirk that made you squeeze your thighs together - which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He chuckled darkly.

“Am I making you feel some type of way, Y/L/N?” you bit your lip. “Sir, I’m…” He swallowed hard, eyes trained on your heaving chest. “I saw how you were looking at me during class.” He stated. You nodded, not bothering to lie or deny. “You have a dirty mind, Y/N?” He asked in a low voice, the sound of your name rolling off his tongue made you shiver.

“Yes.” “Yes, what?” His hand was on your arm now. “Yes, sir.” He grinned dangerously and dipped his head to yours, lips almost touching. “Good girl.”

In a fraction of a second, he had you on your feet, turned you around and pushed you against the desk, his hands on your chest - you mewled at the feeling of his rough fingers tugging harshly on your pointed nipples, and his fingertips travelled quickly from your clothed nipples to the top of your shirt. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Are you attached to this shirt?” “Uhm, a little…” He ripped it straight down the middle and smiled wickedly at you. “Not anymore.” Now, with your breasts free, he attacked you again, fingers nimbly rolling and tugging your nipples as your head fell back and you moaned.

“You’re a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you?” He whispered, letting one hand wander down to the edge of your skirt, inching it up.

“If you don’t want this, you better fucking tell me now, because I aint goin’ back after going up here.” He grumbled, the tips of his fingers grazing your heat. You groaned. “I want this, sir.” You moaned, arching your back.

“You’re fucking dripping.” He rumbled and pushed you to sit on the desk, spreading your legs and pushing your thong to the side, slipping a finger inside of you and without pause, he started to pump his finger, curling it against your g-spot.

You felt dirty, halfway laying, halfway sitting on his desk, spread out in front of him, as his mouth found your nipple - you groaned and rolled your hips against his fingers, the sound of your wet, throbbing pussy almost filling the room.

“Shit…” He said, grabbing your hair and forcing you to look at him as he added another thick finger, his eyes boring into yours.

“You want to be fucked by your professor?” he asked lowly, dragging against your walls. You nodded and he pounded his fingers in you, making you gasp soundlessly. The palm of his hand rested on your clit, pressing down on it and your legs twitched around him, close to falling into pleasure. “What did I fucking tell you, dirty girl?” He growled, pressing harder down on your clit as he impaled you on his fingers. “Fuck!” You couldn’t focus on what he wanted from you, feeling yourself teetering on the edge, almost exploding in pleasure. “Use. Your. Fucking. Words.” Every word was punctuated by another deep plunge into you.

“Yes! Yes, fuck me, please!” You gritted through your teeth. “Want to come on my fingers, darlin’?” he almost commanded you to do it. “Yes…” “Yes, what?” He growled. You rolled your hips against him, every nerve in you was on fire.

“Fuck, yes, sir!” He picked up the pace and bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before letting it go and his eyes burned into you.

“Come for me.” You exploded around his fingers, feeling yourself gush over his fingers as you moaned and writhed under him, riding your orgasm out on his fingers shamelessly.

He didn’t give you time to come down, but slid his fingers out from you and grabbed your hips, lifting you from the desk and turning you over, bending you over the desk as he pushed your skirt up, bundling it on your hips and pushed your chest down into the cool wood.

“You’re dripping for me, huh?” He whispered. You moaned as you heard his zipper go, and your body tensed in anticipation.

“I’m goin’ to fucking punish you now.” He growled, his hand falling on your exposed ass, eliciting a squeal from you. He wasn’t holding back.

“Count ’em.” He rumbled as his hand went harshly to your ass, once, twice, five and ten times. At the end, your slick was almost running down your legs and tears were welling in your eyes. He chuckled. “Want me?” He was so fucking collected, it almost made you angry. “Yes, sir, please.” Your voice was needy as he pushed the tip against your folds. “You’re so wet, you like bein’ punished, huh?” You could hear his smirk. “By you, sir.” You were skirting a line, you shouldn’t, and you knew it. He groaned and pushed into you, stretching you to an uncomfortable degree. “Fuck, you’re too big…” You moaned as he forced his length deeper, but he just chuckled. “You’ll take me.” He rumbled and pushed against your cervix. He moaned, the sound sending flames licking up and down your skin, and he didn’t give you time to adjust - he began dragging his length against your walls in a speed that was impossible for you to handle. Filthy sounds rolled from your mouth as he fucked you hard with his thick cock, his groans matcing you. His fingers went to your nipples and tugged them harshly. You bucked under him and he picked up the pace.

His left hand went to your ass, cupping, grabbing and diggin his fingers into it, and his hips stuttered against you. “I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it, hear me?” He mumbled between moans, rutting hard against you. “Yes, sir.” He groaned and leaned over you, his chest flush with your back and his teeth found your sensitive skin right at the junction of your throat and shoulder. You mewled and bucked your hips, the orgasm slamming into you as a freight train.

He roared as he came, filling you with his spend fucking you until your legs buckled under you. He pulled out, chuckling at the sight of your spent hole, throbbing and leaking. He smacked your ass for good measure before zipping his pants.

You pulled your skirt down and sighed unhappily at the sight of your ruined shirt. You were going to have a shitty time walking through campus. He quirked his eyebrow at you and handed you his blue shirt. You looked at it, dumbfounded.

“It’s just a shirt.” You took it with a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.” He cupped your face in his hand and finally kissed you. It was soft and surprisingly chaste considering his cum was currently leaking out of you.

“You can call me Logan when we’re here.”

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

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Opposites Attract

A/N: Third person POV. This is a short story but it’s something to make up for my writer’s block.

Word counter: 1,428

Warnings: Language

“Hey, who’s Marshall talking to?” One co-worker asked jutting their chin out to the others as they all looked towards Walter on the phone. “He’s been on the phone since we got here.”

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The Devil’s Tongue

Summary: A mask of virtue hides a man riddled with lust and while his stoicism proceeds him, even he can’t withstand a begging girl. 

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x OFC (3rd person POV)

Warning: 18+. Manhandling, abuse of power, MaleDom/FemSub, some thigh riding, unprotected sex, deflowering, loss of virginity, mild mentions of blood, sex in front of mirror (auto-voyeurism), profanities, bodily fluids, possessive behaviour. 

Words: 4.5k

A/N: Many thanks to my muse @agniavateira for supporting me through this story and for betaing. This was inspired by a certain scene in the film. My pervy mind took it elsewhere. Sincerely, I am not sure how I feel about it, so I’ll let you be the judge while I’m having my panic attack. 

Please reblog and give feedback if you enjoyed. 🖤

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own*

Title: The Devil’s Tongue

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Rich certified daddy in his late 40s early 50s!Henry Cavill x College student!fem reader

Summary: You were on your spring break and one day, you and your friends end up on a yacht and... the man who owns said yacht, is quite something.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: fingering, eating out, sex, loud sex, doggy style, squirting, orgasms

A/N: I know the girls in the pictures are white, but these pictures had the sets I had in mind and i didn't want to make them black and white because that didn't fit the aesthetic. Please know that the reader in the rest of this drabble is totally neutral, as I didn't describe hair color, skin color, etc.

This was already the best time of your life. You were in your senior year of college and finally, you had found the time—and money—to be part of a real spring break. It was filled with booze, with dancing and all while wearing different types of bikini’s, matching it with cute flip-flops, shorts and skirts.

And now, you were sitting—totally illegal and in the wrong attire—on a jet ski with your friends, all soaring over the waters. You screamed in excitement. This was so much fun. You were far of shore, however closing in on a yacht. You slowed down your jet ski and looked up. It appeared to be a party on there. Your friends and the jet ski’s were making quite the tumultuous noise, causing the guests to look over the railing, down at you. They seemed fancy and a few guys were talking to someone else, clearly eager to get your friends on board. 

They managed to succeed. Three guys helped the four of you with making sure the jet ski’s won’t drift away and after you left your dirty flip flops on the bottom of the stairs, you and your friends made your way to where the real party happened.

It wasn’t the booze fest you had been part of for the last few days. It was fancier in everything. The music, the drinks and the appetizers. You were almost afraid that what you wore screamed “tacky spring breaker”.

Your friends all gained the utmost attention of the three guys who had helped you all on the yacht. Their loafers were probably worth more than your monthly rent. 

To say you were feeling slightly out of place was a gross understatement. You grabbed something to drink and plopped on a very fancy lounge like couch. You took a sip, when you heard someone clearing their throat next to you.

There was someone sitting next to you? You had totally missed that, as you were drowning in self pity. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, looking to your side only to make eye contact with the most handsome man you had ever seen. In between his brown hairs, were streaks of grey. His bright eyes looked intense. He wore a white blouse, however it was totally unbuttoned, revealing a hairy and broad chest. His shorts appeared way too expensive and unlike the other male party goers, he was bare foot. 

His face showed some signs of maturity and you thought he was in his forties, pushing the fifties, but it was still evident how gorgeous he was. 

You were at a loss of words. He had some whiskey in a glass and brought it to his lips. 

‘Was someone else sitting here?’ you asked.

He shook his head. ‘It’s all good, doll.’

You felt your face heating up at the sudden nickname. You took a sip of your drink and plucked your pink short, that matched your bikini. 

‘Spring break?’ he then asked.

You chuckled. ‘What gave it away? The atrocious outfit or the stench of beer and booze?’

He smirked and he looked so handsome doing so. ‘You look too colorful.’

You nodded. ‘Is this your yacht?’

‘Correct.’

‘So you’re like really rich.’

‘Something like that,’ he said. 

‘You’re kind of a cliché,’ you told him, which caused him to be interested. ‘Whiskey, a yacht, an unbuttoned blouse, handsome. The only thing that misses, is a cigar.’

‘I’ve got some downstairs,’ he chuckled. ‘I’m a walking cliché.’

‘How unoriginal.’

You discovered the handsome rich man was named Henry and he was a real looker. You hated how gorgeous he was, but what you loved about him, was that he was approachable. 

You started to sit closer and closer to him, up to a moment where you were seated on his lap, your legs draped to his left side, his large hand resting on your thigh, toying with the bottom of your short. He brought the glass to your lips, allowing you to take a sip of his whiskey, but it was so strong and not at all what you loved.

Especially not after those nearly sickening sweet drinks you had all those days. 

You had placed your hand on his chest and damn, did he feel strong. He kept staring at your lips and you felt his thumb caressing them. You parted your lips and his thumb slipped inside. With his pad, he pressed down on your tongue. ‘Good girl,’ he whispered softly, only for your ears to hear. ‘Want some more privacy?’

You nodded and as his thumb exited your mouth, you followed him like a lost puppy. He walked down some stairs and after stalking around a little bit, he closed the door behind him and you were in a bedroom. 

As you admired the art pieces that hung on the wall, you felt Henry’s fingers pull on the straps of your bikini and the flimsy material fell with a soft thud on the floor. He was still standing behind you, his lips attacking your neck, pressing soft and sloppy kisses on the delicate skin, while his hands descended from your breasts, to your waist, all the way to the hem of your short. Together with the bikini bottom, he pushed those on the floor as well and like that, you were totally naked. 

Normally, you’d never give yourself over to someone this easily, but this wasn’t just someone. There was something so mesmerizing and enchanting about Henry, you were willing to just give yourself over like that.

He pushed you on the bed. The covers felt so clean, so expensive and luxurious. You crawled back on the bed and watched him get on the mattress as wel. Gently he made you lay on your back, before he spread you legs apart. He took your entire frame in, causing you to feel a little bit exposed, but he simply patted your legs. ‘Gorgeous,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Absolutely breathtaking.’

Henry’s lips were everywhere. Your neck, your breasts—sinking his teeth softly in your nipples—your stomach, your hips, the inside of your thighs, when finally you had enough and you pushed his head towards that aching spot.

His mouth did wonders and while you managed to keep quiet for quite some time, you can’t help but let sounds of pleasure leave your lips. No man had ever eaten you out like this before, sucked on your clitoris and made you already see stars. Right before you’d cum, he would stop, making damn sure you weren’t going to reach your high anytime soon. 

Henry smirked when he looked up as he sat up straighter, as he witnessed you panting and looking quite frustrated. First he buried one finger in, but with how desperate you were, he added another one and the digits brushed passed your sweet spot. The fingers of his other hands were assaulting your clit and you could feel it happening way too quick, your quivering legs giving it away. 

You expected him to stop, however he didn’t. You were caught blindsided by your forceful orgasm, moans filling the room. You cried out when he didn’t stop, pushing your limits. His hairs that had been so neatly styled minutes before, were covering his forehead and he lost a little bit of his perfect demeanor.

He looked way hotter now.

He replaced the fingers on your clit with his mouth, while he kept on brushing passed that spot. You tugged his hair and crushed his head between your thighs. However when you bucked up your hips as you were once again thrown over the edge and were a shaking mess, you felt an unfamiliar feeling washing over you.

Your juices squirted passed his fingers. You finally managed to push his face from your sensitive bundle of nerves and he gently pulled out his fingers. 

You had drenched the covers, but before you could apologize, he kissed you, his hand wrapped around your throat. He wasn’t exactly choking you—though he had full authorization to do so—but knowing that he could squeeze and that would do something to your airflows, made you moan in excitement.

‘Good girl,’ he whispered and you let your teeth sink in his bottom lip. The kiss turned rougher and you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer as his hands were on your back, his finger tips digging into your skin. You tasted yourself on his lips and his bulge was prominent through his shorts.

‘Fuck me,’ you mumbled against his lips. ‘Please, I need you to fuck me.’

He only darkly chuckled, before he pulled back, undoing himself from his clothing. The clothes dropped on the floor and you nearly started drooling once your eyes fell on his hard cock. Never had you ever fucked someone who was porn star sized. 

Without words he made loud and clear he wanted you on all fours. He massaged your asscheeks after he pressed your face into the mattress, your back masterfully arched. His tip teased your slit and your moans were swallowed by the pillow. 

‘Already so needy and loud,’ he noted. He allowed you to get used to his length and girth, as he slowly slid in. He totally bottomed out, getting a tight grip on your hips and he gave you one more second, before he started to roughly pound in you. Moans were stuck in your throat, totally overtaken by the pleasure, as you stretched around his cock. 

You were on the verge again, desperately wanting to cum once more, however Henry could tell and he pulled out entirely, leaving you yearning for more. 

‘Henry,’ you whined. ‘I need you!’

You pushed yourself up, only to see he was literally pouring some whiskey in a glass. He snickered when he saw your pouts and he took a sip. You stood up from the bed and made your way over to him. You took his face in your hands, slamming your lips on him, tasting the whiskey on his lips. You let one hand slide down and you wrapped it around his cock. He clearly did not expect that, because a moan escaped his lips, as your thumb swirled around his tip.

Your knees hit the bed and before you know it, he was in between your spread legs and didn’t waste a second. He pushed himself in and you gasped, hardly used to how thick and long he was. He wasn’t so patient anymore. His lips locked with yours, his thrusts rough and the noises of his grunts, your whimpers and skin slapping against skin was all around you. 

While the party continued on the deck, he was fucking the daylight out of you.

He was close, but so were you and desperate to reach that final orgasm, you slid your hand in between your bodies, rubbing your clit so feverishly, that you were seeing stars before you knew it. You were shaking underneath his broad frame, and while it felt so sensitive for you, he was still chasing his high. His hand holding your face in his hand, kissing away the tears of your face, before looking you deep in the eyes.

His thrusts turned sloppy and he groans as you felt his seed shooting deep inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, still making sure you were able to breath, as he buried his face in your neck. It took you quite some time before you were able to move and when he softened, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of contact. 

You don’t know how long you were snuggled against him, but after awhile, you cleaned yourself up and decided to get dressed again. The two of you barely shared any words, but right before you left the room, he gave you a kiss and a smack on your bottom, causing you to squeal.

You walked back onto the deck, only to see your friends staring at you with wide eyes. ‘What?’ you asked.

‘We heard you having lots of fun,’ one of your friends noted.

‘Never expected you to be so loud,’ another said.

Oh my, had you been that loud? You started to stammer, but then two strong arms wrapped around your waist and when you look over your shoulder, you saw Henry with a smirk plastered on his handsome face. He kissed your temple. ‘We had loads of fun, didn’t we, darling?’

Your friends were surprised to say the least, because they were literally at a loss for words as they were gawking at what was unfolding in front of them.

Somehow you forgot all about your humiliation, because you nodded simply. ‘We had fun,’ you agreed.

He brought his lips to you ear and asked: ‘You need to go back to your hotel or can you stay the night for some more fun?’

You smiled before you whispered for his ears only: ‘I can always stay the night with you.’

☀︎ ☀︎ ☀︎

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Not me having never seen or heard any of this valuable information 😂😂😂😂 I fucking love Tumblr 😂😂 okay but where do y'all find this information?!? Somebody tell me please

So I was reading through some old Lipstick Ally threads regarding Henry and someone was recounting an old story from a hook up with Henry from years ago and apparently he's noisy in the sheets, moans a lot, he's generally very good and described as a "giver", and apparently big, thick and uncut. He likes to ‘experiment’ in sex. He likes to lead and is dominant but in a gentle way. He likes it ‘gentle’ rough. Girl, I need several moments, I don't think I'm going to get anything done today!

Oh god. I need a moment.

I read something like that long ago in an old message board. Someone said that he is REALLY good in oral and gets off from having a woman squirm and make her come hard. And yes it was also mentioned that he is dominant and kinda rough.

I KNEW my theory of him based on all the Tudors sex scenes is correct and that he is HELLA noisy. Fuck yes, that’s the biggest turn on for me.

And gentle rough basically means that good possessive sex when he bottoms out inside you and grinds you.

💦💦💦💦

Oof daddy...