Wake Up Sleepy Head

Wake up sleepy head

Henry Cavill x reader

Not my gif! Credits to: @demivampirew

Summary: After a very tough filming day for Henry and you leaving him pant up the entire day by a hot picture of yourself, he remembered a certain fantasy you had told him in which he could find some release as well.

Warnings: pure filth! Smut! Somnophilia but with CONSENT! P in V, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, eating you out while you asleep, face sitting, blowjob, deepthroat, face fucking, throat bulge, daddy kink, dirty talk, fingering, fingering anal, pet names, cockwarming, one ass slap, rough but passionate sex, overstimulation, controlled orgasm, Dom/Sub dynamic, praising kink, slight chocking

Words: 3,3K

A/N: This fic is entirely written with consent in mind.

Sleepy head

You were lounging on the couch with Kal by your side. It was later in the evening and you tried staying up for Henry, your boyfriend. You haven’t seen him in a while and well you wanted to see him but you also hadn’t had sex in quite a while because he was on a busy schedule with filming. It was over a month now and it was torture for the both of you.

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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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TAGLIST:

@acaceta @summersong69 @luclittlepond @keiva1000

@a-skov @thatonechickhere @summersong69 @themanfromu

@spookyboogyuniverse @one-sweet-gubler @timetraveller4

@angelmather1 @kebabgirl67 @yourlocalhoney

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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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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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...

Night Drive

Summary: A midnight drive turns into an absolute nightmare once Henry decides to take what he always craved for.

Pairing: Dark!Henry Cavill x OfC

Word count: 5.2K

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, sensitive content, Non-con, kidnapping, obsession, possessive behavior, degradation, anal play, breeding, dark themes. Please read with caution.  

A/N: So this is my first non-con, I’m nervous and I really hope you’ll like it. if you’re not into these things, please don’t read, I don’t want to trigger anyone. Feel free to read @brexrif​ essay about reading non-con lit’ as a way of healing. 

Many thanks to @agniavateira​ who both beta’d my work and supported me through the process. And @wondersofdreaming​ for encouraging me. 💖

As always, feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it. 

Title: Night Drive

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