#rip Henry Cavill you will be missed

[keanureevesisbae]

Captain Syverson x fem!reader

Summary: You never had a dad figure in your life, but when you meet Sy, all of the sudden you had a man who was willing to be that role model for you. But all you have to do is let him.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: so, in case anyone remembers a sad little sob story I posted about how i was jealous because i didn't have a dad figure in my life, i turned it into an entire oneshot. Hopefully you like it. (also, I totally intended on not posting this until this weekend, but I suppose I am feeling generous today 😘 )

masterlist // henry cavill masterlist

You grew up in a female household. Your mother, your maternal grandmother and two of your aunts. No siblings. Just you and your favorite women in one house.

While it was amazing, there was one downside to it and you felt it deep in your heart: you always had this feeling you missed out on that fatherly type in your life. A role model, one your friends got for free and loved dearly. 

You always wondered why your dad abandoned you to start another family elsewhere. Weren’t you fun enough? Weren’t you pretty enough?

Weren’t you enough?

Being dropped like that, you always felt more at ease with women. You weren’t necessarily afraid of men, but minding your own business and leave men be, was the easiest way for you to go.

However, you met Sy: the most amazing and wonderful man alive. Looking gruff and slightly terrifying at first, but once you peeled off that first layer, you were met with the most amazing and sweetest man you’ve ever encountered in your entire life.

He was a friend of your friend’s boyfriend and while you two instantly clicked, there was a certain hesitation. But Sy was patient and that patience showed you his character, because it took you months before you felt secure enough to let Sy in your life. You often joked that his parents did a splendid job with him.

But then you met said family. It was the first time you saw such a close family. Three older brothers who were all married with a few little ones, a loving mother and a father.

The type of dad you never had.

Falling into an old and safe habit, you found yourself gravitating towards his mother on family gatherings and sometimes a sister-in-law. You were civil with the brothers, however you always stayed clear from the dad, afraid that he’ll intentionally or unintentionally would hurt you the most.

‘You know,’ Sy offered through the phone, ‘you could call my dad.’

You were now staring at a flat tire and you knew that if you called a tow truck, you probably were gonna get ripped off anyway and you would sell a kidney to afford the change of tire. Naturally, you called your boyfriend, who could fix everything, but he was currently stuck at work and threw that one offer in the air that you really didn’t want.

‘No,’ you said, ‘I can handle this.’

So, after you hung up, you got to work. In theory, you could do it. You watched a YouTube video and you tried to fix the tire, but you lacked the strength and nearly found yourself sniffling on your driveway after many failed attempts. 

Time went by and a car stopped in front of your driveway. You looked up, to see the infamous dad Syverson get out of his truck. ‘Hi kid,’ he said. He always called you kid when you arrived there.

‘Hi,’ you said, discreetly wiping away your tears. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Sy called me,’ he answered, ‘telling me you had a flat tire. I thought I’d drop by to ask if you need help.’

You sighed. ‘Of course he did,’ you muttered.

‘You mind?’

‘No,’ you said, ‘go knock yourself out.’

You found yourself watching him from a distance, while he changed your tire. He did every step in the tutorial you watched, but the thing was: he had strength, you didn’t.

‘You got something against me, kid?’ he finally asked. 

You shook your head. ‘No.’

‘You barely acknowledge me when you’re over,’ he said. ‘Is it something I did?’

Yes. That’s the worst part of it all. It is something he did. It’s the way he loves his sons, their wives and the grandkids. It’s how he loves his own wife. It’s how he always greeted you with a wide smile. How he even got you a little nickname he hadn’t given to anyone else. It was you who was on the receiving end of the nickname ‘kid’, not the others.

‘No.’

He looked up and halted his work. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘Sy told me about your own dad.’

Of course Sy would share that sob story with his parents. ‘Right.’

‘Your dad is an idiot,’ he said. 

‘True.’ You took in a breath and said: ‘I grew up around women. All I’ve known is female role models. Never had a dad-figure in my life. Guess I am just a horrible human being and incredibly jealous for seeing how others have a great dad and I don’t.’

‘That doesn’t make you a horrible person,’ he told you. ‘It makes you a normal human being. You know, I had a deadbeat dad. He barely was around and when he was, he ruined everything. I always promised myself that once I am a dad, I wouldn’t be like that.’

‘Mhm.’

‘Dads fix tires,’ he continued, ‘dads cook dinner. Dads pick you up from a night out. Dads teach you about life. Dads are there for you, whether you need them or not.’

‘Not mine,’ you whispered. ‘My mom always told me to do it myself.’ 

‘I get that.’

‘I was already doing an okay job with the tire,’ you mumbled. 

‘True,’ he chuckled. Then he turned around so he was actually facing you. ‘You know, you’re dating my son, which makes you part of the family. You got a flat tire, call me. Your family needs some help fixing something? Call me. You’re family, kid.’

And you realized you hadn’t been acting like family. Instead, you always kept him at arms length, even when he tried to be family. 

Tears burned in your eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘I just want to be that dad-figure for you. All you’ve gotta do is let me.’ He smiled reassuringly. ‘And when you are ready for that, let me know. I’ll be right here for you, kid.’

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It had been three months since that conversation and a lot had happened. You were still dating Sy and ever since your little talk with his dad, it truly felt like you were part of the family now. Sy and you were closer than ever before, his dad and you were two peas in a pod. Turned out, you shared many similarities and he felt like that father figure you always wished you had. He came over to your family’s house and fixed a few things that needed fixing for a while now.

But dad Syverson still understood your wish of being independent and whenever he helped you out, he told you to watch and learn and sometimes wrote down a few tips too.

Today, you and Sy were going to a family gathering again and you could say that you were buzzing with excitement. 

‘Sy, hurry up,’ you pleaded. ‘Your dad is gonna show me how to turn on the bbq, without losing your eyebrows.’

He chuckled. ‘I swear you’re always happier to see him than me,’ he joked. You leaned against his shoulder, before he said: ‘You know, honey, I love you very much.’

‘I love you too,’ you whispered. ‘And thank you, for ignoring my stubborn ass and called your dad that faithful flat tire day.’

Sy smirked. ‘Come on, you honestly think I would let you hurt yourself, because you’re my strong-willed sweetheart and doesn’t want to ask my dad for help?’ He pressed a kiss on top of your head. ‘I… I am glad you accepted the help. It made you happier in the end.’

Dating Sy meant gaining an entire family and to say it was amazing was a gross understatement. You said your quick hi’s to his brothers, the sister-in-laws and the kids, kissing Sy’s mom, before rushing over to the backyard, where you saw Sy’s dad.

‘There she is,’ he said with a wide grin and you launched yourself in his arms. ‘Finally some common sense in the building,’ he joked.

Sy joined you not too long after, hugging his dad and he said: ‘I’ll be the first Syverson to sit through a bbq lesson from my dad.’

‘You guys never listened?’

Dad shook his head. ‘Kid, you’re the first one who voluntarily has signed up for the bbq lessons from dad Syverson,’ he told you. ‘Are you ready?’

You smiled and nodded. ‘I was born ready, dad.’

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

henry cavill taglist: @diegos-butt // @thelastsock // @liecastillo // @mis-lil-red // @sofiebstar // @abschaffer2 // @crazybutconfidentaf // @summersong69 // @gearhead66 // @xobriellaxo24 // @bourbonrice // @kebabgirl67 // @eldarwen333 // @kingliam2019 // @cherry-gemz // @sillyrabbit81 // @enchantedbytomandhenry // @lyrarodriguez // @islacharlotte // @sunshine96love // @oddsnendsfanfics // @xuxszx // @omgkatinka // @pterodactylterrace / @peaches1958 // @pandaxnienke // @raccoon-eyed-rebel

[itzaltwins]

I recently got back from Argylle and AHHHHHH I had a huge smile on my face for like 70% of the movie.

It was dumb (affectionate) at some points, but that's what made it fun. I feel like Matthew Vaughn understands that movies shouldn't always be realistic or have to make sense. Just enjoy what's in front of you.

More thoughts under the cut (includes spoilers, duh):

Maybe I'm oblivious, but I didn't foresee many of the twists. Though to be fair, like most things I just watch and see what happens...

The humour was perfect for me. It was the kinda shit that makes you chuckle as you shake your head, but not burst out laughing (although I'm not averse to that type of humour).

Elly is literally me and every fan fic writer. Except we're not secret agents, unfortunately.

Whenever I see Bryan Cranston, I only see the dad from MItM. I never watched Breaking Bad.

No Henry Cavill and John Cena kiss? Missed opportunity. SMH

Ahem I'm super interested in how Vaughn will tie together the three franchises, because we have actors that have played various characters (except some of their characters are dead).

As for the production of the movie, Brad Allen (RIP) being on there was really nice to see.

Now, I've never met the man, but fucking Carlos Peres (AKA Bedivere) in the first part of the credits as executive producer, made me so proud??? If you didn't know (please note I just like to look at the credits), in Kingsman TSS, he was simply a Kingsman Knight. Then Kingsman TGC, a Kingsman Knight and production consultant. The King's Man, a co-producer. Vaughn's friends/colleagues are lucky fuckers.

I didn't stay til the end of the credits (the employees were eyeing me to leave so they could clean), but I think it's really nice they include the number of jobs supported and mention the hard work put into making such a production, at least for Kingsman 2 and The King's Man.

I know critics take things way too seriously and I will never ever listen to them but this quote makes me laugh: "Argylle [...] ultimately wears out its welcome with a convoluted plot and overlong runtime." (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Argylle) Man, if they think that was convoluted, they haven't seen the DrakeNier universe, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, etc.

Okay, I've rambled enough for now. If you read everything, thank you. (Why would you?)

[cardierreh15]

The Guy Next Door

And we are BACK— with a new chapter of The Guy Next Door! I hope you guys enjoy. It’ll be quite the interesting one.

**I do not give anyone permission to copy or repost my work!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Motivated Violence (Idunno lmao) Fluff ! 💕 Ron being a good baby daddy! 😩🤰🏾

Description: Netty meet’s Ronan’s best friend, Harry for the first time.

Pairings: Henry Cavill (Ronan-POV) x Black!plus size Female (Amunet)

Special Appearances: Thomas Doherty (Harry)

Word Count:

Chapter 8: Birds of a feather …

‘Are you ready?’ His deep, soothing voice brought her out of her blank daydream. It had been 4 weeks since their break up and this was the first time she saw him in person. He would call every day while he was on lunch, and at night before he went to bed. She had made it evident that she didn’t want him near unless she was ready.

Today, she was more than ready.

She blinked her honey brown eyes and looked over at him as his large fist clutched the steering wheel.

It was safe to say she missed him. FaceTime calls never did Justice when she wanted to be able to touch and smell him. It ached her core to force him away, but he had to know she was serious.

‘I am.’ Netty gave him a gentle smile and let out a gentle sigh as he backed out of the driveway.

Ronan looked over at her for a moment and returned the heart warming smile. There was so much he wanted to say to her… so much he wanted to do.

Being in her presence made his entire world gleam, and his soul glow with sheer joy. He didn’t know if it was the pregnancy rubbing off of him that made him so emotional. But he’d already stopped killing because he wanted to be better for her and the baby. He was in love with her.

***

The couple had just walked into Target. Ronan was stuffing his wet umbrella in a umbrella bag when she skirted off towards the bright red buggies. His eyebrows tugged into one.

A gleam of a smile spread across Netty’s face.

‘Netty? I thought we were getting only a few things. Why not use a little basket?’ He said with a gentle smirk curling on his lips, gently shoving her hands off of the handle.

‘Well,’ she looked up at him, ‘I lied.’

‘Hmph.’ He scoffed.

‘Now, let’s go look at the baby section!’ She squeaked, wrapping her small hands around his firm bicep and gave him a gentle tug.

Ronan let out a soft chuckle, ‘oh man. What did I get myself into?’ He mumbled to himself as he began to follow her towards the baby section of the store.

Netty gasped at the sight of the tiny 3-piece set and damn near snatched the whole rack down. ‘Ronnie! Wook at it!’ She looked up from the adorable and tiny outfit.

Ronan chuckled, ‘Aw! That is so cute!’ He carefully took the clothes into his large hands. He felt like a giant! As if he tugged this thing a certain way, he’d rip it apart. It was in that moment that it really set in for him.

‘Wow… it’s… it’s so… tiny.’

His thumb and index finger gently caressed the cotton, his head falling to the side in admiration.

Then he looked up at her.

A sweet smile curled on his lips.

‘I’m really gonna be a dad!’ He scoffed as he looked back down at the onesies.

She walked around the cart and linked her arm in with his before she looked up at him. ‘You are.’

Ronan looked down at Netty with a small smirk before speaking, ‘Hey Netty, I—‘

‘Ron?’

Amunet looked back to see a tall male standing behind them with a box of diapers beneath one arm and a small basket packed with baby pacifiers and bottles.

Ronan recognized that voice anywhere! He swiftly turned around to see Harry standing before the both of them. ‘Hey! What are you doing out here?’ He asked in a slightly confused manner.

Harry stayed on the opposite side of town. And he hated to ride around in his pretty little Audi in Florida traffic. He kept it as local as possible.

‘Oh! Nothing just doin’ a lil’ shoppin’. I heard you guys were having a baby and I decided to come get somethings.’

Ronan’s face turned up in confusion. Eyebrows knitting into one, lips curling in a confused grimace. Something wasn’t right.

He never told Harry that Amunet was pregnant.

‘Oh! That’s so nice of you! Thank you!’ Netty grinned happily.

‘Of course! Anytime! Oh, I’m … Harry—‘ he placed the box on the floor, ‘by the way.’ He reached out for an handshake.

Ronan’s deep blue orbs, glanced down at his hand before they flickered back to his face.

‘I’m Amunet. You can call me Netty though.’ She said with a smile, placing her hand in his and gave him a firm shake.

‘Netty. It’s such a pleasure. Ronan’s told me all about you. His tales aren’t sufficient— you are stunning!’ He complimented.

Ronan never took his eyes off of him. He was impatient and suspicious.

‘Awww, that’s—‘

‘Harry? A word please?’ The glare he held on Harry’s face was … unusual.

Harry and Amunet looked from one another towards Ronan.

‘Ron?’ Netty said in a bit of concern, ‘Are you OK?’

He looked down at Netty and gave her a smile in reassurance, ‘I’m fine. Hey, take some time to look at something’s for the baby. I just remembered I had to talk to Harry about something.’

‘Are you sure?’ She asked in worry.

‘I’m sure.’

Harry’s eyebrows tugged into one in his own confusion. ‘Whatever you have to say, I’m sure you can say it in front of Netty.’ He raised a brow, the confused look instantly being replaced with a sinister glare.

‘No…’ Ronan bit back, ‘It is work related.’

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek before glancing at Netty, ‘Duty calls I suppose.’ He chuckled before shrugging and scooping up the box of diapers. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Netty. I’ll see you soon.’ Then he gave her a friendly smile.

‘As it was you, Harry! Take care!’ She said somewhat confused but masked it with a clueless chuckle.

Ronan walked past him in a hurry and Harry rolled his eyes following him. Once he’d noticed Ron was walking out the door, he placed the basket and the box of diapers down before taking a mental note of where he left it.

Ronan paced back and forward in front of his car with his hands on his hips.

‘OK Mr. Moody pants. What’d I do now?’ Harry’s voice had a bit of humor in it.

‘How’d you know Netty was pregnant? What are you doing on this side of town?’

Harry made a face, raising a brow in confusion. ‘You don’t recall? You told me this a few days ago!’

The puzzled male shook his head as he turned around to look at his friend. ‘I didn’t. I’m careful with these kinds of things. Netty is still in the first trimester so why do you feel like I would’ve told you and not even my own parents?’

Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes, ‘Look, you are seriously buggin’ from the lack of sleep you’re getting.’

Ronan grit his teeth together so hard, he could’vshattered them, ‘Answer the question! How did you find out?!’

Harry looked at his friend before an unexpected, sudden laugh fell from his lips, ‘Haven’t you learned? I find out— everything.’ He looked away before sighing, ‘Besides, you’re not spending time with me anymore and it’s becoming a bit lonely, Ronniieeee.’

He pressed his lips together, swallowing his spit as he glanced at the random people that walked on by; giving them a fake friendly smile. Ronan then leaned in, ‘I told you I’m done with that shit. Look, I’m trying with Amunet. I’m in love with her!’

‘In love?!’ Harry questioned raising his brow before another sinister laugh left his chest. It caused Ronan to jump slightly.

‘In love?! You only met her 9 months ago! She’s a fucking distraction and she’s getting in the way of our playtime!’ Harry argued, poking Ron in his firm chest.

‘Harry, you’ve completely lost it and you need to seek immediate help.’

‘Oh well if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black! Since when did you become fucking Dr. Phil?!Look, Netty is real pretty… real fine. I just would hate for something to happen to her.’ He said nonchalantly with a shrug.

Ronan picked his head up to look at Harry. Oh he was angry. He snatched him up by his shirt and shoved him against his car. ‘Is that a threat?!’ He gritted his teeth once more.

‘Oh no my dear friend… that—‘ Harry shoved Ronan off of him, ‘Is in fact a promise.’

Ronan’s eyebrows tugged into one. He was livid but he just took a deep breath, ‘Fine…. What is it that you want.’ He said in a hiss.

‘I want you to meet me at my place tonight. I have a arts and crafts idea of y’all’s “Head” of Neighborhood Watch. Be there at 9. Don’t be late. Or I’ll just simply tell Netty that you’ve gone killing again.’

‘You take her as a fool. She won’t believe you.’

‘Well she doesn’t trust you… she’d believe a stranger first before your lying ass.’

Harry had a point there. And that just made his chest hurt.

‘Again. You best be on time lover boy!’ He called out as he began to back away.

***

Ronan walked back inside of the Target with his mind racing. It was like he was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. But he wanted her and their unborn baby to be safe.

He found her snuggling up against a tiny pink onesie with red hearts scattered all around it. ‘Hey! You’re back!’

‘I am,’ he gave her a smile before looking in the cart. She had almost everything in that damn thing. ‘I see you’ve went to work while I was gone. And quick too!’ He chuckled.

‘Yeeeeah. I couldn’t help it!’ She giggled as she placed the small little piece of cloth in the buggie.

‘Well, that’s alright,’ he said placing a kiss on her head, ‘I told you to grab anything you wanted for our baby. Honestly, this is nothing compared to what I thought you would’ve done.’ He snickered. His mood was instantly shifted once again. She had such an positive effect on him. And he loved it.

Amunet sighed, looking up at the ceiling with dreamy eyes, ‘Our baby… our little baby.. such a nice ring to it right?!’

‘Yeah.. our baby.’ He repeated happily.

***

They’d been back at her place for some time now and they were spending sometime looking, and feeling the baby clothes. ‘I just can’t wait til they get here…’ he smiled rubbing her slightly rounded belly, ‘can’t wait to hold my baby girl!’ The thought of him having a little princess made Netty’s heart ache. She didn’t care what they had, just as long as they were healthy.

The room grew quiet for a moment as his mind slipped back to the conversation he and Harry had earlier. ‘Netty?’ He paused for a second, allowing her time to answer him.

‘Hmm?’

‘Do you trust me?’

Amunet looked over at him with a gentle smile, her head falling to the side slightly, ‘Well, you can be sneaky… but the amount of support that you’ve been giving me over the past month and a half… it’s safe to say that you have earned my trust back.’

Ronan sat up with a delighted smile returning to his face, ‘Seriously? You really do?!’

Amunet giggled out loud, ‘Of course,’ she reached across and placed her hand on his thigh, ‘You earned it.’

The smile he wore only grew larger and he just took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. ‘You have no idea how good that feels.’ He cackled.

She smiled softly, her head falling to the side as she watched him just combust with emotion and happiness. This was probably the happiest she ever seen him.

‘Hey?’ He said as he brought her feet up and started to subconsciously massage one of them.

‘What’s up?’

‘Could I possibly… stay over tonight? Like I think it’s—‘

‘Ron.’ Netty said, her face unimpressed.

He stopped in his tracks like a damn deer in head lights.

‘Of course you can stay!’ She giggled, giving him a playful smack on his arm. ‘You don’t have to ask!’

He sighed in relief, ‘Well I wasn’t sure if you still wanted your space.’

Netty felt touched by the comment and placed her hands on top of her chest, ‘Aw. That’s really thoughtful! Well, … to be honest—‘ she looked off to the side, sinking her pretty teeth into her bottom lip.

‘What’s on your mind?’ Ronan asked.

It grew quiet for a moment before she waved her hand and shook her head, ‘Nooo, no. It’s silly. Forget I even mentioned it—‘

‘Oh you’re not shutting me out. Tell me.’ He said softly, his eyes were gentle and welcoming.

She stared over at him for a moment before swallowing her spit. ‘Well, I—‘ she sighed softly, ‘It’s been hard… this whole break up. We went from spending time together every day to… me not wanting to see you… and with good reason.’ He muttered the last part before breaking into an awkward laugh. ‘I just… want us back… I miss you.’

The air grew thick with emotions. He felt guilty about the conversation he and Harry had earlier that day. But he also felt content and happy, knowing he had a second chance to redeem himself.

‘C’mere.’ He said leaning over and placed a tender kiss on her lips. Suddenly, he remembered what he’d been missing. Her soft, plump lips that taste of honey.

He then broke the kiss and rest his forehead against hers. ‘I miss you too.’

[carronyaflowers]

Thank you @official-impravidus for the tag!

Rules: Post 10 of your fave movies and tag 10 people.

10. Epic (2013)

When I first watched this, I was such a slut for Josh Hutcherson and Amanda Seyfried. I was so in love with Nod and MK, and Queen Tara + Ronin?? KILL ME

9. Pirates of the Carribean Trilogy

Look at her! She's my queen, my king, my awakening!! And I'm counting the first three films in one because I refuse to separate them. Jack will forever be one of my icons, and Elizabeth + Will will forever be my number 1 ship (even if it doesn't look like it, rhey're my one).

8. 20th Century Girl (2022)

Because this movie made me weep. The friendships! The high school of it all. The first love. 🤧🤧🤧 This is due for a rewatch actually.

7. Zack Snyder's Justice League (2021)

I'm a hoe for these bitches actually. THIS is my justice league. SO FUCKING ICONIC AND PLOT AND CHARACTER ARCS. And henry cavill in that superman suit!!!

6. Lord of the Rings Trilogy

"It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for." <- TURN THAT SHIT UP

5. The Princess Bride (1987)

Ohh another iconic iconic film. It made me laugh it made me cry it comforted me. If i could, i'd sell my soul to watch this again for the first time.

4. Pride and Prejudice (2005)

HANDS AND LONGING AND YEARNING AND PINING AND KEIRA KNIGHTLEY. YOU HAVE BEWITCHED ME. WALKS IN THE MEADOWS. THE MUSEUM HOUSE THINGY.

3. Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

I'm so jealous of Sam and Suzy's love. Just two kids against the world. And it's so so much. Like take me to an island and let's just wander it together. This is so dear to me, JUST TAKE ME TO MOONRISE KINGDOM WHERE WE CAN DANCE ON THE BEACH.

2. Moulin Rouge (2001)

Such a bonus that when i searched moulin rouge to search for gifs, scott and tessa showed up. Anyways, this film THIS FILM. The audacity it had to take my heart and make it believe in love only to rip it to shreds. And forever robbed that come what may wasn't eligible for best music for oscars bc it wasn't originally written for moulin rouge. And also, look at mr mcgregor and ms kidman. someone mash up my fave songs and create an elephant love medley for me.

1. Dead Poets Society (1989)

i miss neil.

Tagging these people bc i'm curious abt ur fave films: @f1-giuki @dreamingamongthestars @newtness532 @pancsaa @alestire @muhtants @nerdypandablizzard @putyourreddresson @xiaoluclair @fabbyf1

[zoeysdamn]

Review: The Witcher: blood origin

Don’t mind me, I’m rambling about a show I watched to practice English; wrote it during insomnias so it might be strange lmao Also, /!\ MAJOR SPOILERS of the books, the games, and both of Netflix shows

Why ‘The Witcher: Blood origin’ is (in my opinion) a missed opportunity 

As a major fan of The Witcher franchise – having nerding myself to the point I’ve read the books 3 times, played the third game for countless hours and the show’s score being my most listened album of the past year – I was rather enthusiastic at the prospect of a spin-off series. Even more when I learned that this would actually be a prequel, for it could be very interesting. 

However, as some of you may know, the show didn’t have as much success as expected – some could even call it a failure. Without calling it a failure, for I am a rather optimistic and easy watcher, I can’t say that this show was a good one. I personally think that the show is more interesting to analyze, and I’d like to list the elements that worked and failed to understand why ‘The Witcher: Blood origin’ had missed its chance. 

Before I start, here’s my opinion on the Netflix adaptation of The Witcher: 

The first season was a rather successful adaptation, in my opinion. The chaotic rhythm and timeline that had confused a lot of viewers matches the first book style (which is a collection of short stories, for those who hadn’t read the books). Henry Cavill’s interpretation of Geralt is amazing, so is Joey Batey as Jaskier. On that note, the liberties taken by the show writers about some of the characters – namely Yennefer’s past – had surprised me, but it wasn’t half bad. As long as it stays consistent through the show, I’m fine with it. The way the first season also gave more space to explore some very interesting side characters such as Calanthe, Tissaia and even the untold story about King Foltest’s daughter in the book material, was truly appreciated. Also, the score was absolutely wonderful and a fine adaptation of the game’s music, somehow. So, I was rather satisfied by the first season and willing to let a few characters misread slip – like Cahir’s really awkward behavior. The second season however, lost me the very moment they decided to rip Eskel’s character apart and throw the original plot to the bin. I have nothing against a little improvisation or slightly changing a character, but season two straight up rewritten entire characters and that went wrong. So, in conclusion I think Netflix’s adaptation has started great, but should definitely stick more to the original content, no matter how much all of the actors are doing a good job and the score’s good, which saves it a little.  

Back to ‘Blood origin’, the main advantage is that the story takes place in a period of time still untouched by all the content – books, games, various tv adaptations: the time before the Conjunction of the Spheres (CS for short in this essay). For the novices, or only show-viewers, the CS is the most important historical and scientific event in the world of ‘The Witcher’; it’s the moment when different spheres, worlds, collided together and mixed planes of existence into the Continent (the world/time plane where ‘The Witcher’ takes place), including different species such as humans and monsters. Before the CS, only elves lived on the Continent, and chaos (equivalent of magic) didn’t exist, as it was a direct consequence of the conjunction; that’s what we know from the source material. So, the decision to explore this specific time before the Continent became what makes The Witcher universe was both bold and promising. 

That being said, let’s list the good sides of ‘The Witcher: blood origin’. 

First, the clan war among elves is a pretty good idea. We always see elves as haughty, bitchy and posh beings, always acting so superior to other races (and not only in The Witcher, but also Lord of the rings for example). So having them depicted as a dominating race isn’t a surprise, however seeing them in a power play among themselves, as clans among the same race, is a refreshing idea. Plus, the show showed that dwarves, Continent’s inhabitants, are also victims of eleves, to increase the injustice, even cruelty of elves, which was a good idea. Plus, the clans hierarchy is a smart – yet tricky – way to refer to the elven organization in the books. In the source material, there’s different kinds of elves, like castes: the Aen Seidhe, inhabitants of the Continent since generations, the wise and scholars Aen Saevherne, magic users, and the Aen Elle who had left the Continent ages ago to move to another world. I get that making it about clan war was so much easier to put in the plot than explaining the different elven castes, I recognize that. Although it also led to the biggest mistake of the show, we’ll look into it later. 

The second brilliant idea was to include the character of Jaskier in the plot. At first when I learned we’d get to see the lovable bard again I was perplexed – how could we see him, if the story took place more than 300 years ago? But then, the choice of making him the listener, then the future writer of the story is downright brilliant. Because in the Witcher 3, Jaskier is indeed the narrator of Geralt’s adventures, and he’s writing his memoirs in the books, snippets of it are even dropped between chapters. Jaskier is a bard, it’s his job to tell stories; mixed up with his newfound mission of smuggling elves to safety in season 2, it was a brilliant decision to put him as the mysterious elf’s listener and receiver of the epic tale. Joey Batey is in my opinion one of the best cast for the Netflix show, his interpretation of Jaskier is flawless, both loyal and original compared to the book version, it’s an absolute gold character; him coming back for this prequel, even for a few minutes, had been an excellent decision. Plus, it gave us another awesome song from him, it’s obviously a good point for me. 

Something that may be controversial, but I really liked the costume designs of this show. They may have been slightly unconventional for some parts, but I globally appreciated what they did especially for female’s costumes. The mix of fantasy and more modern elements such as the empress’ makeup was a rather bold move, and it was quite refreshing. 

A thing I found interesting but quite clumsily put is the plot progression. The whole plot is mostly following a fantasy quest construction; which is logical for this universe. Two characters team up, find other companions through their quest and rally them to the cause before defeating the villain. Classic, practical. But that also makes some episodes way too long. Many side characters are great, like Michelle Yeoh’s character who is an absolute badass. But we spent too much time on side quest-ish episodes, even if there aren't many. 

This is a nice transition to the less fun part of this critic: what didn’t work in ‘The witcher: blood origin’. Admittedly, there are a lot of things, small and bigger details that don't work in this show, but I’ll focus only on two of them – the most importants in my opinion. 

First of all, the (plot-forced) relationship between Eile and Fjall. At the beginning of the show, when the two protagonists make a clan-like pact I thought “nice, their relationship seems more prone to evolve to a strong friendship rather than boring romance, it’s a nice change!”. Needless to say, when the show started to throw them at each other in a romantic way, I wasn’t too happy. Because…there was legit no need? It seemed totally uncalled for, none of them needed each other like that, and frankly, who cares? Fjall had his own kind-of romantic interest (albeit fucked up, toxic and above all that, over) with Merwyn, Eile had her own shit to deal with, and the plot didn’t need any more romantic plot to progress. And more than that, it had felt like a kind of treason to the original material. The Witcher universe is great, among other things, at writing characters in a less conventional, patriarchal way. Many characters are greatly written because I’m deeply convinced that The Witcher has in many aspects a feminist position. For instance, the character of Milva: she spends half of the books alongside Geralt, and none once as she has never been written and/or considered as a potential romantic interest or fuckable side character like she could have been. Her sexuality, although briefly mentioned, is free and assumed, never shamed or criticized. When the subject of abortion is brought to the table, even if she seeks her male companions for their insights, all of them answer that in the end, it’s her body and thus her own decision to make. The Milva example is a good one, but we could also mention many other cases of female characters being written in a very feminist way (Philippa Eilhart being also free in her choices, never shamed for who she loves, Tissaia living for her beliefs, the dryads, even Yennefer and Ciri who doesn’t like being mansplained or being a pawn in someone else’s game), in an early 00’ fantasy novel written by a cishet white man (and for that Mr Sapkowski, your books are truly an amazing piece of fiction). All that to say that a kinda forced romantic relationship appearing out of nowhere between two characters who were more interesting and already complete as friends is disappointing. The deus ex machina ‘it was the power of love that helped them defeat the villain’ was useless in that plot. It could have worked perfectly without, for a strong friendship between Eile and Fjall was more interesting and as legit as romantic feelings. Plus, some side characters offered minor, yet very touching romance material: the buff and bloody warrior Brother Death and the kind magician for instance; his scene where he explains why he’s so in love with her held much more emotion than any romantic moment between the protagonists. Even the story and vengeful devotion of Meldof, the lady dwarf who wants to avenge her dead love was more touching. And both of those examples are enough, the show isn’t centered on romance; side romantic elements like those would have been enough, more subtle, and much more in the spirit of the original material.

Let’s roll on the major problem in my opinion: Eredin and Avallac'h. 

Why Netflix, oh why. Everything could have been fine, the show could have been an acceptable, although a little clumsy adaptation. But you just had to bring up fanservice – which you clearly don’t know how to deal with. 

A little context for those unfamiliar with the books and/or games (and yes Netflix, that includes you too): Avallac’h is an Aen Saevherne (elven scholar and mage, if you remember correctly), which appears in the later books and has a fascination for Ciri. He wants to use the blood of her lineage to produce a new pure blood elf (and basically push her into the king of elves’ bed, but that’s another story). He’s kinda shady, but also an ally to her, probably because of his fascination (maybe crush?) toward her ancestor Lara Dorren. Eredin on the other hand, is an Aen Elle, one of the elves that lives at Tir ná Lia, another world. He’s also the commander of the Wild Hunt, or Dearg Ruadhri (and if you know a little bit of the games, you know he’s up to no good). Basically, his goal is to capture Ciri to use her incredible power that allows her among other things to travel through time and space. He’s an elven elitist, willing to do anything (including killing his king) to keep his power over the Aen Elle world. So by NO MEANS Eredin could be depicted as a submitted soldier; and he doesn't care about the Continent or anything, he despises this world. And Avallac’h being a shy, unambitious mage apprentice makes no sense either. In other words: what the fuck, Netflix? 

They are the two only (three with Jaskier) canon characters in this show, why couldn’t you at least understand the characters? Everything else I said above about any other characters could be ignored because well, they’re new and I’m willing to let that pass. But those two are major characters in The Witcher universe, the show could have a) been without them, the plot wouldn’t have been impacted, and b) pictured correctly. They were clearly used as fanservice, to please hardcore gamers or books fans, but if it isn’t made correctly, it can’t work! Although I understand it might be a way to introduce them for season 3 or 4 (that too Netflix, you’ll have a lot to explain because season 2 finale left me perplexed), but it was just done so badly. Even if the last scene with Eredin, clearly a hint of him becoming the leader of the Wild Hunt is pretty cool, it doesn’t fix it. 

It’s the most important mistake that has been made in this show, in my opinion. Because doing a show on the genesis of this universe, with brand new characters and intrigue, opened a lot of possibilities and most of all, allowed people unfamiliar with the source material to enjoy this universe a little more. A lot of viewers had complained about the show being incomprehensible to novices when the first season launched; ‘blood origin’ could have been a good compromise, but instead it had been a deception for everyone. And I’m not even mentioning incoherences such as chaos (magic) existing before the CS, or first witchers being elves. 

In conclusion, there were a lot of good ideas, but much more big incoherences to the original material or within the show’s plot. It could have been a great, original show but it ended up being a messy mix of new ideas and badly written fanservice. And thanks fuck we got to see Jaskier again or else I would have riot.

The boi saved the day. 

[runekeepershymnal]

Witcher season 3 thoughts (spoilers for all episodes of S3 below the cut

Maybe I'm projecting, but it just did not seem like Henry Cavill was having a good time this season. Like in previous seasons, even when Geralt was miserable, I got the vibe that Cavill was having the time of his life.

The bit when Yen says to Geralt "Promise me this won't be the last time I see you" broke my heart a bit. I think my favorite bit of the whole season, though, was Jaskier bringing the dryads to tears singing the song in Elder.

I haven't read that far in the books yet, and I haven't played the games, so I can't really comment on deviation from the books compared to the show.

I also don't think it's necessarily fair to call out a fantasy universe for anachronism, but I did find the Valdo Marx and the Marxists bits to be... tonally jarring? It just seemed extremely modern compared to the vibe of the show thus far. The biggest record-scratch moment there for me, however, was the Melange, where Yen and Geralt have a sudden tango in the middle of this other dance and it all flows just fine around them. I get that it was (probably?) intended to be representative of how they had their own mission while there were complex machinations all around them, but... enh?

I'm not sure, but I feel like they switched Yen's contacts, especially in the longer shots, and I wish they'd kept it more subtle. There were some Spirit of Halloween moments there, and Anya deserves better. I could be completely wrong, maybe it was a change in the lighting, but I remember them being this deep, rich, wine purple, and season three they were kinda lavender? I dunno.

I loved Jaskier as the big brother or uncle figure (or mommy and daddy's special friend, we don't know what goes on between scenes) who acts as intermediary between Ciri and Geralt. Compared to Geralt and Yen, Jaskier was Ciri's age much more recently, so it makes sense.

Tissaia dying ripped my heart out. I kind of expected her to turn herself into an eel to jumpstart Aretuza's power again, and I don't love the notion that, to pass on leadership to Yen, she had to die. But then, it may have just been her broken heart and the grief at the fallout from her being betrayed. Still, she was my favorite, and I have such an enormous crush on her, and when her hair went white, she was just incredibly hot in a different way. I will miss looking at her, listening to her beautiful voice, and watching her annihilate idiots with a sharp look.

I didn't mind Radovid and Jaskier, it was an interesting dynamic and I'm glad the show went there, especially since it seemed to show how much Jaskier has dispensed, by necessity, with some of the more shallow things that used to be incredibly important to him.

I really enjoyed Philippa and Dijkstra, how committed they are to one another, their shared and individual internal conflicts and desperation.

We may be cancelling Neflix in my household because of the most recent price hike, but I hope that the show continues to be good.

Anyway, unsolicited opinions and general musings conclude.

[virtualtyrant69]

Currently watching Superman 1978 and here are my reactions:

Wow, the Superman theme? Amazing, inspiring, sensational!

Why is Jor-El so old? This is the father of a baby???

Lmao get phantom zoned fuckers, Man of Steel could never with these graphics

Omg the reflective suits lol, it's like they're biking at night

Also love how the curl is apparently genetic and not a style choice on Kal's part

Omg his wife is so young compared to him??!?

1970s graphics are to die for/pos I love them so much

Again, man of steel could never

This is what happens when climate change goes too far smh 😔

Lmao get rekt krypton

Ooh 70s generic man scream! I love that one!

Wait, kryptonians know about Einstein?!

And the Chinese?

I love that that baby is just spinning

Omg Ma and Pa!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Martha's middle name is Clark??

Awww teen Clark ❤️

Oh he has such a silly goofy run

He had a stroke?!?! He's dead?!?!? He gave the worst pep talk ever and then died. Rip to you king

I also love the 1940s setting so far

Clark is such a plain guy he eats regular Cheerios (derogatory)

Love the iconic red flannel

Don't worry Martha, he's gonna visit as often as he can

Wait since this is the 40s, do we think my mans gets drafted?? Or like, since he technically doesn't exist in the USA he gets a pass?

If Jor-El has been dead for thousands of years how did he know about Einstein or the Chinese?

Wait, so 12 years have passed in this weird montage that isn't a montage?? He's 30 now?? He didn't visit his mom for 12 years? She could be dead!

Ok so he just skipped the war in his knowledge montage

Jimmy is so cute I just wanna squish his cheeks

Oh Clark is so Guy rn, he's so Average

Oh I love how he's pretending he can't open a bottle, this is so funny

Lmao Jimmy calling Perry "sugar"

Awww he sends checks to his mom ❤️ but does he still visit her >:|

I love his just some guy vibes

Omg I love him, Henry Cavill could never!! I mean, can you honestly imagine that man saying "swell" unironically?

He's such a big dork I love him

Oh ok he came to earth in '38, started his time skip in '56 and it's now 1968? Or is the time weird and it's in '78?

First day on the job and he gets robbed at gunpoint smh

He caught and bullet and then "fainted" and then he accidentally used his x-ray vision?? Man can't catch a break

Shout out to the seeing eye dog who barks when ppl try to steal/ripoff the blind newspaper seller

Omg lex just killed a guy by train

Wait, lex isn't bald? Also that woman he's with? Love her costume design, it's so slay

So is lex not a celebrity/business owner in this movie? Ok

And I've given it more thought, if Clark landed in 1940 then this movie would take place in 1970 which somewhat matches the costuming choices

Oh Clark sweety I love you so much you are such an idiot/pos he almost walked into the ladies room and he got his coat stuck in the door lol

He really is just some guy!!! waiting for the elevator

Huh, I didn't know they used to have waiting rooms for flights at newspaper offices, wack

Omg he just changed into his Superman suit and a pimp said his outfit was bad, I love this this is so camp

Metropolis just got their blorbo ❤️

*saves Lois lane and then infodumps on her* what a man, love that for him

Aww the little wave as he said bye, so cute

He just left a boat in the middle of the road lmao

Aww he saved a kitty in a tree, ajdhslsj girl just got hit for telling a lie about how a man saved her cat

Superman doing what Homelander could never

Ah the 70s, when you could smoke indoors on the job

Love Lois and her nic addiction. Also girl got dressed up for a man who saved her life once and then took off. You know what? Me too girl

"how big are you? I mean, how tall are you?" Okayyyy get it I guess, Miss Lane coming out with the real questions

Girl just asked him to look at her underwear, the flirting between them is amazing

They flew from south Jersey to New York in a romantic Aladdin-esque way

Lmao he dropped her

Love the poetry Lois is dropping out of nowhere

Man just upstaged himself on a date wow love him

Oh ok so he took off in 1948, landed in 1951, went on his trip in 1966, and it is now 1978, ok that makes way more sense

Luthor's secretary is so slay

Shout out to my fellow Native who sold bad land for an amazing price to some guy he didn't even know. Get that bag however you need to get that bag. Also, "At the stupid high price he offered for this worthless piece of desert, I hope it's Custer." Iconic!!! W for the Natives

He can telepathically change his suit??

He can drill into the ground by spinning?!??

Lex's yellow flower suit is so slay

Clark is so wet and pathetic rn, love that look on him

Wow unsolicited kiss, Miss Teschmacher how could you? You were so slay! Clark looked so sad and hurt afterwards D':

Is he pushing the plates of the earth back together?!?!? What?!?!?!!!!!

My man, Clark kent, is pushing two tectonic plates back together with his bare hands from the center of the Earth, what the fuck

Oh my God he also used himself as a rail for a train

Love the obvious miniature town and flood but also, Clark honey blocking it with rocks wouldn't work, ice breath would be the best option imo

Oh this is the movie where he flys so fast he turns back time, I want someone to explain to me mathematically how this works

Lois is such a girlboss the first thing she does when she sees Superman is rant and tell him off for not helping her. Girl. You just died to him. But still, werk

Oh he is bald! He was wearing wigs? Ok slay ig

10/10 loved this movie, it was camp, it was iconic!!!

[endiness]

lmao what are you on about. henry cavill did not even know the books existed when he started pursuing the role and thought that the books were just based off the video games. and either way, i guess despite this supposedly being such a beloved franchise to him that he's such a massive fan of, he just ~curiously missed how literally all of the games say they were based off the books as the first thing in the credits and he never bothered to pick up any of the books or, y'know, even google the games or wiki them. 'cause that's totes how massive fans are about their beloved franchises when they're just so obsessed with them, amirite. they just never look any deeper into them at all whatsoever.

geralt will not shut up in the books yet cavill would just not say his lines sometimes, not only leaving other actors in a lurch and having to scramble to pick up his lines, but also putting the writers in a position where they started to change the scripts and how geralt was written in them (which was, y'know, more like the books) to fit his acting choices. which went against the books. like, js, but that's not exactly "he's the only one who understood geralt and cared about the source material~" kind of behavior.

the entire narrative of "i just care about the source material SO much" didn't even start to be pushed by henry cavill until after s2 had already finished filming and he very rarely admitted his own role in the show straying from the source material, like with geralt's characterization, and let all the blame fall on the writers for it while taking all the credit for "pushing for book accuracy" — even though, again, it was his acting choices that led to something like that in the first place. (also idk what people are talking about when they go on about this anyway as all the choices i've heard he's responsible for either directly went against the books or the original plan fit the tone of the books better and made more sense.)

"the people who disagreed so hard with him he quit the project"

we still have absolutely no idea why henry cavill is no longer part of the show (and the only indication from production, at least afaik, is that it was due to scheduling conflicts and how strenuous the shooting schedule is in general) and the idea that he quit the show because the writers weren't following the source material is still just a conspiracy theory. (also, like, how does this idea even work when s3 was the closest adaption to the books thus far yet that's the season he supposedly quit after filming? the math doesn't math, js.)

"they needed a 7000 word letter from joey batey and the fanbase pleading just to allow jaskier to be queer"

it was lauren's decision to make jaskier pan/bi and she is the one who came to joey with the idea in the first place. now, joey did write her a ~7k word email, in his own words, "ripping apart every single bit of the first few drafts" and there was a lot of email exchange between them about getting jaskier's sexuality and his romantic relationships done right and truthfully and respectfully. but at the end of the day, this was still lauren's decision and joey has repeatedly praised her on her willingness to be collaborative when it comes to the writing process and the characters — and not only with jaskier's sexuality but just in general. so, i don't really know how this fits into the whole "the writers are actually mustache twirling evil villains" narrative. kinda feel like it goes against that.

"didn't need incentive from anyone to create fake gay motives for the worse villain of the story"

i don't even know who this is supposed to be about as i'm pretty sure the worst villains in the story are vilgefortz, who is not gay in the show, and bonhart, who... isn't even part of the show yet anyway? so. i'm going to assume that this is about radovid, in which case: the show is based off the books. not the games. and radovid is a virtually non-existent character in the books anyway. plus! he's also not a villain in them, either. (btw, the book character that the games based radovid's villainy off of was willemer, a priest from temeria. jsyk.)

"i do not trust that these people, who have proven callous, arrogant and ignorant about both the source material and the opinions of the fanbase (and have made some choices nearing bigotry) and who disagreed so heavily with the actor who knew the source material best"

none of what you've said is proven at all and your opinions are based off of misinformation and conspiracy theories tbh 🤷‍♀️

im honestly still just as wary about the next season of the witcher even after the table read -

because it was never about liam's acting skills.

do i think henry cavill was a spectacular match for geralt?

yeah. but not only because of his looks or his acting: he GOT geralt and the witcher in general. he's a massive nerd who knows the franchise like he wrote it himself and was a big reason (not the sole, but a big one) that the show kept on track and was even somewhat faithful to the original material.

but i don't believe cavill did a regé jean-page and like. left to seek stardom or whatever. this was a passion project too for him, you could tell.

no, I'm wary of the future of witcher because of the higher ups involved.

so what DID the people who disagreed so hard with him he quit the project do? well, they needed a 7000 word letter from joey batey and the fanbase pleading just to allow jaskier to be queer like he (pretty much) canonically is. didn't need incentive from anyone to create fake gay motives for the worse villain of the story, though. didn't need incentive to completely ruin one of the most beloved characters of the franchise, or let his actor get harassed on socials after the swap without ever saying shit.

i do not trust that these people, who have proven callous, arrogant and ignorant about both the source material and the opinions of the fanbase (and have made some choices nearing bigotry) and who disagreed so heavily with the actor who knew the source material best are capable of producing a good season 4. liam or no liam. am i hoping he's a good geralt? yes, the series and other actors don't deserve to have their performance harmed by him. can it be as good as the seasons cavill was in? for the reasons cited above: fuck no.

[tobusydaydreaming]

Screaming, crying, etc

[kcnnarys]

france is the ohio of europe

[hertzwritings]

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)

You were late. Like, really, really late. You were rushing the halls, trying desperately to find the right room for Modern History 1, where your first class of the day took place. You already knew you weren't in good graces, judging by the clipped email, the professor had sent out about being late for class - he definitely didn't have a lot of leeway for coming in late.

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. You looked at him and instantly had to suck in a breath; this was not a professor, this was a bodybuilder. A tree. A god. Arms were bulging behind the flimsy fabric of his shirt, his thighs strechted the fabric of his pants to a point, where you doubted they'd hold up if he went for a squat. His face was gorgeous, rugged and he looked like he could cleave wood with the back of his hand, which had you reeling over the veins, that popped out as he wrote something down on a piece of paper in front of you.

“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 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 Luke when we’re here.”

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

TAGLIST:

@acaceta @summersong69 @luclittlepond @keiva1000

@a-skov @thatonechickhere @summersong69 @themanfromu

@spookyboogyuniverse @one-sweet-gubler @timetraveller4

@angelmather1 @kebabgirl67 @yourlocalhoney

[bookwormgirl123]

oh thanks for responding so quickly! I agree with pretty much everything you said here, but I will say, Henry Cavill absolutely KILLED it as Sherlock Holmes in my opinion. I’ve seen to graphic novels but never read them, so I’ll definitely try to get to it! RIP Reginald Collie, you will be missed.

thoughts on the movies??????

Thank you for asking!

But I ought to tell you: I never watched the movies. Everything I've seen is from clips, trailers and gifs I've seen on the internet. So I don't think my thoughts can be taken as accurate analysis or good criticism.

Now that you have that warning, here are my thoughts from the little I've seen.

The casting is compelling (Claflin and Cavil actually look like they could be related in my eyes and Brown is an interesting choice for a main character). But none of them are canon compliant, so that was rather disappointing. There isn't any hawkish-ness or gaunt-ness or Holmes-ness altogether. I wished they picked out an actress with a more hooked nose, because that's one of Enola's main insecurities along with her slight build, and I wanted to see a bit of representation of that peculiar nose (I have a soft spot for Enola's sake).

Mrs. Lane was rather surprising though, having expected someone who is easily carried away and not so grounded.

Tewksburial-at-sea was altogether disappointing. I wanted him to annoy her and be loud and obnoxious, not fall in love with her. Honestly he ought to have been more like Will Poulter's Eustace than Ben Barnes' Caspian in the Chronicles of Narnia. Why did he have to be around her age??

Maybe if they had cast actors according to the characters ages instead of upping their ages - (remembers Lockwood and Co and how they raised the ages but the show was still an absolute success) - nope never mind.

Not sure about the acting. I did like Sherlock and Enola's micro-acting when they were considering each other (that scene where Sherlock points at her neck and pauses to let the implications wash over him is *mwah*).

I did like Enola's spunkiness as well in regards to her brothers, she seems genuinely annoyingly little sister material. She wasn't, however, my Enola, book!Enola, so that was another disappointing matter.

Mycroft was a vile and loathsome beetle. He was bad enough in the books, though he does get a sort of redemption. But the movie made him outrightly despicable and dishonourable. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. But more importantly, I hate them for ruining his character. He slapped a girl??? Whom he has never known until recently??? And then he proceeded to yell at her as she wept??? Wanted to kick him right then and there. (please note this is about movie!Mycroft whom I will loathe forever until the stars rain down from the heavens. ACDCanon!Mycroft did nothing wrong and is, as the kids say, the GOAT)

But they made Enola dress like a boy??? NO??? Why would you explicitly change that from the books???

Eudoria was nicer here though. A little more caring, a little more loving. Book!Eudoria can go stick her head in a fish barrel for all I care.

I don't have opinions on the other characters, I'm afraid, since I've just straight up refused to see the movies or bother about anything other than the sibling content. I know that the main villain in the second movie is Moriarty who is a woman, which is crazy and intriguing at the same time, but I don't know anything else. I hope she's some underrated female relative to Professor Moriarty but my bones say she's probably an adaptation of the Napolean of Crime himself.

Ferndell Hall was...not what I expected. Genuine question: Is that how the book describes the Hall? I always expected something more along the lines of Downton Abbey, but then again, I don't know much about manors and mansions and halls. It was nice to see Ferndell Hall, though.

Arguably the BIGGEST failure of the movies: The severe lack of one Reginald Collie. The goodest boi in the books, my pride and joy, and we do not ONCE see him :((( I will never forgive the movies for so heinous a sin.

Just so you know, I'm not overly fond of the books either. Their villanization of the Holmes brothers is most distasteful, and I honestly believe that the books aren't all that great (except for the sibling angst and the intriguing cases to solve and curious characters). As an adaptation of ACD's canon, these books and movies are altogether utter failures.

But I came for books that focused on sibling relationships for the main plot and stayed for Enola Holmes, the girl who deserved the world and despite the world being ever against her chose love and forgiveness every time. So these six books will forever hold a special place in my heart, despite being failures to canon.

I'm sorry about the long post, but I have effectively returned to my Enola Holmes obsession. Honestly, I think of all media, the Enola Holmes Mysteries did best in the graphic novel series by Serena Blasco of the first six books. Even the sibling angst is perfectly captured. You should check it out.

Thank you for reading this post!

[roamwithahungryheart]

@ Henry come to me and do the thing you did in my dream:

The letters won't stop.

They're fanned out on the kitchen island, and I've been staring at them for so long that the entire concept of time has slipped away from me. All I know is fear. Anxiety. My chest is weak. I steady myself on the marble countertop, trying to focus on my breathing. But I can't. A racking sob takes me by surprise. I surrender to my tears.

When I look up through blurry eyes, I see Kal trotting into the room. He settles at my feet. He knows something's wrong. I bend down to ruffle the patch of fur between his ears and he nuzzles into my legs, anchoring my feet to the floor.

The front door opens. Henry shouts a cheerful hello as he walks in, Kal lets out a booming bark that rips right through me, making me jump, but through my tears, I laugh. The sound seems to trigger Henry's fight-or-flight response, as he rushes into the kitchen, his face etched with concern. Kal disappears, his mission complete.

He doesn't need to ask me what's wrong. He already knows.

He pulls me against him, resting his chin on the crown of my head. His embrace is firm, but comforting. Protective. I'm not crying now.

"I hate this." I mutter against the thick fabric of his shirt. "I'm so fucking done with all of this."

He steps back, cradling my face in his hands. I feel small and safe.

"I know, my love. I know." His voice is low, his eyes soft.

He presses a long, gentle kiss to my lips. Then another. Then another, as though it's the last time. I wonder if it will be, so I lean in further, kiss him harder, my hands raking through his soft hair, clutching at the nape of his neck. His grip on my hips tightens. I'm his. For as long as I can be.

@harrysthiccthighss @foodieforthoughts @cavillsbestgal @myloveforhenrycavill @cherry-gemz @blowing-mikey @captainsy-cookiemonster @pussyverson @sillyrabbit81 @viking-raider @zealoushound @keanureevesisbae @littlewrenofrivia @beck07990 @luna-aestas @luclittlepond @kebabgirl67 @angreav @omgkatinka @mostly-marvel-musings @cavillsthighs @littlebirdofrivia @angelcavill66 @darklydeliciousdesires @henrys-little-princess @angryschnauzer @herefortherealdeal @cavills-little-princess @mis-lil-red @mansaaay @thwick @marytudorbrandon @uncensored-steve-the-platypus @nerdyoldsoul @aletheladyinred @thereisa8ella​ @janenyfl @summersong69 @miss-rebel-without-applause @scorpiobitch95 @marantha @notabronte @unauthorizedhenry @est1887 @nuggsmum @spazzymamahenrylover @nashibirne

[221bshrlocked]

That Southern Hospitality

Pairing: Clark Kent X Reader

Words: 8056 (wow this got out of hand)

Warnings: Awkward encounters. Flannel. Forearms. Smut. Dirty talk. Some kinks that might not apply to you including but not limited to hickies, size difference, age gap, flannel shirts, and finally, cum play (if that’s what it’s called). I’m on my period and I’m horny so leave me alone. 

A/N: Listen I’m not sure what happened here. I was minding my own business one minute and the next thing I know, I’m writing this hella long fic because men in plaid shirts are the death of me (Adam Driver in Blackkklansman) but Clark Kent in a plaid shirt/flannel can rip me to pieces and I’d ask him if he could do it again. I know I have other stories to get to and finish, but I got the inspiration and motivation to write this and I decided it was better than not writing any fics at all. Enjoy this hell that is Henry Cavill inspired. This will be up on AO3 with gifs :) Let me know if my smut is still any good.

Two exams, three research papers, and a shit ton of unnecessary assignments, and here you were doing the laundry because how else would you deal with the stress of this hellish semester. You angrily shoved your second batch of clothes into the washer, occasionally looking at the laptop not too far from you in an attempt to memorize any details of the human chest anatomy. As you measured the bleach and poured it in the washer, you forgot what it was you were reciting in your head, turning to the diagram again and repeating the function of the thymus gland for god knows what time that day. 

So busy with the laundry and making sure you don’t push your laptop over the table by accident, you didn’t notice when someone walked into the room until you stood up and grabbed your orange juice. As you were about to take a sip, you heard someone shuffle behind you before speaking.

“Do you mind if I-” The man didn’t get to finish his question, stepping back when he saw you jump in distress.

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, turning around and not watching where you were stepping as you tried to put space between the two of you. You fell to the floor, your heart hammering in fear before it beat against your chest in anger once you felt the sweet liquid spill all over your shirt. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t-” The man stepped forward and held out his hand to pull you up, his eyes unintentionally descending to your soaking shirt.

“Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with you? Trying to give me a heart attack or something?” You took his hand and let him pull you up, grabbing the bottle and its cap before throwing it in the trash. Wiping your face, you were about to say something when you looked up and saw who it was standing with you. Your eyes widened in horror because of course it was the quiet hottie two floors down that had to see you in this rather horrendous circumstance. 

“Believe me I thought you heard me when I walked in but I realized you were probably too invested in that diagram to notice me.” He pointed to your laptop, trying his hardest to avoid looking anywhere below your neck because he really didn’t want to get a boner in these sweatpants. 

“S-sorry about the mess, I’ll clean it up and give you some space.” You smiled nervously at him and were about to move towards the sink when he beat you to it and pulled out some paper towels before placing them on the floor. “Please, let me.” He looked up, his jaws clenching tightly when his eyes saw two hardened peaks teasing him through your wet shirt. He swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped the floor, knowing very well you caught him staring at your chest. When you did finally follow his gaze and looked down, embarrassment washed over you and you quickly crossed your arms to hide yourself. 

He stood up a moment later and reluctantly turned towards you before looking over to see if his laundry was done. When he saw the timer was down to zero, he blinked at your obvious nervousness, immediately unbuttoning his flannel and taking it off before stepping towards you. He could hear your elevated heart rate and felt bad for causing you so much discomfort. Whatever courage you had left was spent when you looked up at him, and boy did you wish you didn’t because you weren’t sure what was going to cause you to faint first, his cologne, the way his blue eyes dilated at seeing you, or how his chest expanded with each breath he took. 

“I am sorry miss. Here, take this so you could finish your laundry.” He held out his flannel to you and watched as you thought it over before reluctantly grabbing it. Who even looked that good in just a wife beater and some old sweatpants?

“W-what about your laundry?” You questioned him, walking towards one of the corners and hoping he wouldn’t turn around as you changed out of your shirt. You could hear him walk away, the sound of the washer unlocking letting you know he was thankfully a few feet away and couldn’t possibly hear your heartbeat. 

“It’s fine, you can keep that until you’re done.” He quickly took his clothes out of the washer and shoved them in his basket, deciding to fold them back in his place because he really didn’t know what he could do should he stay in the same room with you for another moment. By the time you turned around and grabbed your shirt to put it in the washer, he was just about done grabbing his clothes. And when he didn finally look at you, he lost whatever self control he had left, the handle of the basket breaking under his hold and causing you to blink at him. 

You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. He looked inconvenienced with his tense jaw and the harsh grasp he had on his basket. But he also had this aura of kindness around him, like a gentle giant kind of vibe. “Wow that’s one hell of a flannel collection you got there.” You cringed at the words as soon as they left your lips but he surprisingly didn’t laugh at you. On the contrary, his shoulders relaxed before he smiled at you.

“I grew up on a farm,” he said nothing else and you weren’t sure why his answer made your stomach churn. So he was a lumberjack basically. A sweet, muscular, introverted lumberjack who for some odd reason, lives in the city. 

“Thank you for this, it saved me going up four floors only to come back down again.” The flannel was long enough to be a dress and you nervously played with the long sleeves, not realizing that the more you touched the fabric, the harder he became in his sweatpants. 

“It’s no trouble, miss.” He was about to walk away when you stepped to him and grabbed his arm to stop him, goosebumps erupting on your skin when you realized just how muscular he is. You immediately took your hand away and waited until he met your eyes before speaking again.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N.” 

“I’m Clark.” He smiled and you watched as his incredibly fine, round ass walked away from you. When you were sure he went up the stairs, you swore quiet loudly as you pulled your phone out to call a friend. You couldn’t care less about school work or how you were standing in a stranger’s flannel that smelled way too fucking good. All you cared about was squealing like a teenage girl about the cute neighbor who didn’t miss a beat and offered his clothes because you had to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him.

Unbeknownst to you, Clark could hear every single word you were saying about him, smiling at the prospect of someone your age gushing about him of all people, an average man who didn’t scream “friendly” to total strangers. Well, he wasn’t average but that didn’t matter. He folded his laundry and continued to eavesdrop on your call, not feeling an ounce of shame because you had so far called him “a greek god,” “a sexy farm boy,” and “a big softie.” Clark honestly wasn’t sure which of these was responsible for the raging hard-on he was suffering from and he didn’t really care because he could hear you compliment his scent to whoever you were on the phone with and he hated how vocal you were about your so-called “attraction” to him. 

By the time you were finished with the phone call, you’d lost all hope of retaining any new information about the human body. Then again, if it were up to you, you could have studied his body. For science of course. All the time you were switching out your clothes and absent-mindedly scrolling through your notes, you couldn’t help but bring the flannel up to your nose, taking in deep breaths and relaxing as his musky scent hit your nostrils.

“Fucking hell he smells good.” You whispered to yourself, feeling the sudden urge to reach down and scratch that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he walked in. And you really were about to do it, had it not been for the drier letting you know your clothes are clean.

So much for wanting to get some studying done. 

You collected your things and made your way up the stairs, halting at the second floor and looking at Clark’s door. It wasn’t that you were a stalker or anything. You just saw him a couple of times returning from work. Granted you’d stare at his ass for a few seconds but you didn’t purposely seek him out. You looked at your clothes and thought to just give him his flannel back but you immediately shook your head, ascending the stairs quickly before you changed your mind. 

Clark was writing a new article when he heard your steps slow down and stop at the top of the stairs. He slowly stood up and approached the door, looking past the wood and watching as you silently debated on something before you thought against it and ran up the stairs. He smiled to himself, knowing he was right and that you wouldn’t return his plaid shirt just yet. 

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you folded your clothes and paced around the empty living room. A heavy sigh made its way past your throat and you looked down at the shirt, wanting very much to relieve your stress but knowing there wasn’t time for that self-care session. You put the kettle on and decided to force yourself to get something done before the sun set. If you weren’t going to memorize that shit then you were certainly going to finish some of the other assignments. 

Surprisingly, you managed to finish one of the research papers by eight and you lounged on your couch and listened to some jazz music as you wrote the discussion responses and questions for your other classes. You were happy that you’d only had the two research papers and the exams to study for. Rubbing your eyes, you managed to shut your laptop before rolling on the couch, staring out your curtains before taking a deep breath. 

And that’s when it hit you.

It was such a stupid thought but for some reason, you genuinely believed you managed to finish all of this studying because of what you were wearing. You looked down at the shirt and pulled it to your nose for god knows what time that day, taking a deep breath before letting your mind wander to the little encounter from earlier. 

You’ve had several crushes before but never like this. Not ones that made you feel peaceful at least. Maybe after this semester was over, you’d muster up the courage to ask him out. But what if he had someone already? How awkward would that be? Surely someone with his manners and looks had a girlfriend, a boyfriend even. 

You didn’t dwell on that for too long, not wanting to grow sad at the prospect of missing your chances with a guy like him. You let your thoughts run over until you fell asleep, not realizing that Clark was also having a hard time riding his mind of you. 

You hoped you could run into him again to avoid the awkward encounter of knocking on his door and giving him his shirt but that never happened. Somehow, you couldn’t get a sight of him for the rest of the week, which was strange considering how often you managed to get a glimpse of the man. And you noticed you’d started to stress out again when you realized his scent grew incredibly weak, the flannel no longer bringing you peace of mind as it has for the past few days. 

There were only five days left and even though you had turned in all your research papers and taken one exam (and miraculously passed it), you still felt like shit. Five days to study for an exam should have been a Christmas gift compared to some of the schedules you had to deal with for the past two years, but you didn’t feel like studying and you hated that you knew what was keeping you from focusing. 

You distracted yourself with numerous things, buying unnecessary clothes and accessories online and even calling your friend and asking her what show you could binge watch next.

“Fuck this shit,” you threw your pillow across the room and grabbed your phone, ordering some take out before pulling up all of your human anatomy notes in an attempt to study again. You looked around your apartment and saw the plaid shirt on the other end of the couch, rolling your eyes at the sudden need to wear it because if that meant you could focus even for a few minutes, you were definitely going to put it on. 

A few minutes passed and you were still on the same diagram, swearing out loud when you heard the doorbell ring. 

“Well that was quick,” you grabbed a five dollar bill to tip the driver, unlocking the door and pulling it harder than intended. 

And then you forgot how to breathe for a second because shit shit shit Clark was standing in front of you and you were wearing his shirt and he was looking you up and down and fuck this was not okay. You silently cursed yourself because he was definitely going to think you were weird for wearing it when you had your own damn clothes. 

“Hey,” was the only thing Clark managed to say because his neurons decided to misfire and not form a proper sentence. Goddamn his clothes looked so much better on you.

“H-hi.” 

Clark cleared his throat and pretended he wasn’t gawking at you, holding out a few letters and waiting until you took them before he said anything else. 

“These were in my box by accident. Sorry about that. I think a few of them might be late, I haven’t been here all week.” You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he pushed up his glasses and finally looked at you. 

“Oh, thank you. Was it vacation week or something?” Of all the things you could have asked to not sound pathetically desperate, that should have been the last of them. 

“Far from it, I was on an assignment and I had to go to Gotham to interview some businessman for the Daily Planet. Just got back.” He fixed the strap of his bag before shoving his hands in his pockets and such a simple gesture shouldn’t have made you drool but here you were. 

“You’re a reporter?” Somehow, that made sense but it was weird to see someone who grew up on a farm come to the city and take the oddest job. 

“Yeah.”

“That sounds nice.” You didn’t know what else to say, awkwardly shifting on your feet and hoping he’d continue the conversation for your sake. 

“It is most of the time, but then you have to sit down with eccentric billionaires and then it’s not so fun anymore.” Clark remarked and he was struck with a soft chuckle that almost made him lose his balance. 

“Let me guess, the infamous Bruce Wayne wasn’t as charming as everyone says he is.” You took a step forward and leaned against the door frame, noticing the way Clark stepped closer to you as well. 

“How did you know?” Clark said with a hint of sarcasm and you shook your head before looking past him and silently cursing when you saw the delivery guy approaching you.

“I’ve got an order for Y/N.” The young man took one look at Clark before he knew it was best for him to just deliver the food and leave. 

“Here, thank you so much.” You handed him the tip and smiled when he waved back at you.

“I’ll leave you to eat then,” Clark was about to walk away when you reached out and stopped him.

“Or you could come in? I ordered way too much food anyway.” You hoped you weren’t being too forward with him and let out a breath when he turned around and faced you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.” 

“You’re not.” You said way too quickly to your liking but knew it was worth it when he sent you that dashing smile again. He walked in and set his bag down before following you to the living room. 

“Make yourself at home,” you set down the food on the table in front of the couch before walking to the kitchen to grab a few plates and some drinks. When you walked back and handed him the beer to open until you brought out all the food, he raised an eyebrow at you and asked the question he’d been wanting to ask ever since he saw you.

“Are you old enough to be drinking this?” He asked jokingly and hoped you didn’t find his question too weird.

“Hey hey I’ll have you know I am not as young as I look.” You playfully raised your voice and watched as he held his hands up in defeat.

“Just want to make sure I’m not breaking the law or anything.” 

“I’m about to turn 23 so relax.” You sat down next to him, shoving the laptop to the side and grabbing the beer from his hand before rolling your eyes at him.

“So you are as young as you look then!” Clark hoped his tone still held some playfulness because he didn’t want you to know how turned on he was because of the age gap. Not that he expected anything. 

“I’m old enough…” You let the words hang in the air, pretending you were focusing on splitting the food evenly between the two of you. Clark narrowed his eyes at you before shifting them towards the bit of skin peaking through the buttons of his shirt. 

Fuck, his shirt. 

“Thanks for this, I definitely wouldn’t have bothered to cook for myself tonight.” He broke the silence, trying to think of anything but you wearing that shirt around the apartment. And he really didn’t want to picture you going to sleep in it. 

“Of course, I gotta return a bit of that southern hospitality after all.” You took a bite of the food and were about to say something when he beat you to it.

“And here I was thinking you could have just returned the shirt.” Of all the things you thought he was going to say, that was definitely not one of them because as far as you knew, he was not a confrontational man.

“I- uhhh, I was going t-”

“Relax sweetheart, I’m just teasing.” You almost choked on the food when he winked at you and you hoped to the almighty he wasn’t just pulling your leg. If your friend was here, she would have probably told you to play hard to get. But you were tired, and you didn’t think Clark was the kind of guy to enjoy that. He was older than you after all and he probably didn’t enjoy that childish behavior.

“Honestly, your shirt managed to help me with my stress.” When he said nothing and continued to stare at you, you decided you should probably apologize. “Sorry that sounded weird. Here I am being super creepy when you were just being nice. Probably don’t need this drama anyway.” You moved to get up and were about to head toward your room when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back down. 

“Don’t. You’re being honest. It’s a breath of fresh air actually.” You weren’t sure what made your heart race, the way he was looking at you or the warm fingers he had still wrapped around your wrist. You smiled all the same, nodding awkwardly before reaching for your laptop. You touched the mouse bar so the screen didn’t sleep and turned your attention to Clark again.

“Still studying the anatomy?” Clark pointed to the screen, finishing up his food and thanking you for it before standing up to throw away the empty boxes.

“I actually stopped studying for it this past week. Had other more important assignments and exams to finish. You sure you don’t want any more?” You closed the two other boxes and followed him to the kitchen, placing the boxes in the fridge before grabbing the plates and forks to place in the sink.

“I’m good thank you. When is this exam then?” He stood at the sink and folded his sleeves, the action not going unnoticed by you. When you looked up and saw that he was staring at you, you cleared your throat and went to the table to clean the rest of the things. 

“It’s in five days and I really couldn’t care less because if I have to memorize one more fucking muscle, I’m going to lose my shit.” Clearing away everything, you washed your hands as well and followed him back to the couch, pretending you weren’t checking out his thighs that were currently spread out across his seat. Fuck he looked good.

“Maybe I can help with that.” Clark said before he could think twice about the bizarre idea

“How? Do you secretly know Professor Stevens and could talk to him for me so I don’t have to take the exam?” You jokingly asked, scrolling through the powerpoint to try and see which group you had to study next. When you didn’t hear a response and looked up, you saw Clark staring at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite understand. 

“I sadly don’t know Professor Stevens, but I’ve heard that it’s easier to study these things when you have a real life example to map out.” There wasn’t an inch of hesitance in his words and Clark was finding it very hard to keep a straight face when you looked so flustered. 

“Is this where you tell me you’re secretly a serial killer and I’m about to become one of your cadevers?” You tried to diffuse the sudden tension growing between you two but Clark never once dropped his gaze, setting his beer down on the table before standing up and rolling down his sleeves.

“No, but I am a willing participant and I will gladly be your example.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, pulling his blue and green plaid shirt out of his jeans before unbuttoning the front, all the while making sure you never looked away. 

By the time he was finished, you could feel how soaked your panties were and you hoped he didn’t notice you shift in your seat. When he smiled, you knew he did.

“Oh,” you whispered when he opened his shirt and took it off, leaving him in the wife beater and tight, dark jeans. You took a deep breath to try and relax your mind but then he pulled the white material out of his jeans in one swift move and you were left staring at his incredibly muscular, slightly hairy chest that had you wanting to jump his bones right away. 

He sat down again, this time much closer to you. You cleared your throat before turning to your laptop and scrolling to the diagram about the bones, looking it over before facing Clark again and silently asking him if you could move closer. When he raised an eyebrow and nodded at you, you cleared your throat before taking his arm and pulling it on your lap. 

You should’ve known it would be heavy considering how muscular he was but nothing prepared you for how soft his arm would be, even with all the hair. This was not the time to be horny and yet here you were, wanting to do something else with his fingers. 

Softly, you took his hand and rested it on your lap, tracing his fingers as you called out the different bones on the limb. “Phalanges…metacarpals…c-carpals.” You spent a little bit longer on his wrist, turning it up before softly passing over the veins of his arms. When you realized you weren’t actually moving over the bones, you blinked rapidly before continuing to his arm. His arm was now rating completely on your lap and although his hand was facing the ceiling, you couldn’t help but feel like he was purposely making sure he was touching the skin of your thighs. 

Dismissing the wild thought, you applied pressure with one hand on his ulna while the other passed over the hair of his arm and mirrored your actions but on his radius. When you looked up, you saw Clark’s piercing blue eyes staring into yours, not bothering to hide his obvious fascination with your lips before looking down to where you were touching him. You swallowed the lump in your throat before moving your hand to the humerus, not bothering to linger on his arm because you knew very well which bones that was. 

Before you could convince yourself not to, you decided the hell with being appropriate, hands continuing their journey up to his shoulders before lingering over the clavicle, finding it incredibly sexy because it was protruding. And when your other hand moved to his chest and splayed across the center, you made sure to never look away from his suddenly dilated pupils, pushing on the hard center and whispering “sternum.”

“You’re doing pretty well darling…don’t know why you’re worried about this exam.” Clark’s jaw was tense and you knew he was as affected by you as you were by him. 

“I’m more worried about muscle groups if I’m being honest.” You replied breathlessly, not expecting him to reach over and pull you on his lap. You gasped before settling down on him, not bothering to be sly when you moved your hips and found him hard beneath you.

“Get up close and personal Y/N, I don’t mind.” Clark smiled when you grabbed his arm and brought it close to you again, tracing the forearm and whispering the muscles as you touched each of them. “Flexor carpi ulnaris…E-extensor carpi radialis longus…ah fuck.” You couldn’t take it anymore, swearing when you felt his other hand grasp your thighs and squeeze them. 

“Focus,” he dared to warn you, chuckling when you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. 

You continued to move your fingers on his arm, no longer shying away from feeling him up a bit more. As soon as you reached his biceps and named the muscle, Clark was flexing beneath you, the small reflex turning you on way more than it should have. You lingered on his biceps a bit more than you should have and Clark noticed, the fingers of the arm you were studying wrapping around your upper arm before jerking you in his arms.

“I said focus.” His tone was dangerous and you couldn’t help the little drag you took across his thighs. Clark looked down at you before raising his eyebrows, his chest expanding with pride because your self-control was slipping just as his.

“D-deltoid,” you passed over his shoulders before finally reaching where you’ve wanted to touch him for so long. As soon as you placed both of your hands over his chest and whispered “pectoralis,” Clark was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him, lips crashing against yours so aggressively you almost thought you broke your teeth. He was hungry to touch you, his arms not letting up once as he devoured your mouth. When you tried to pull away to breathe, Clark moaned against you, fingers pushing the back of your head towards him so he could suck on your tongue. 

A few seconds later, he finally realized the two of you needed to breathe, letting go before continuing his attack down your neck. You found yourself pushing your body to him, sighing and moaning when you felt his teeth nip and suck on whatever skin he had access to.

“Jesus fucking Christ, do you have…any idea, how sexy you look in my shirt?” He paused in between words to kiss your neck before deciding he wanted your mouth again. You didn’t have much choice, giving yourself over to him and not bothering to attempt to have any control of the man beneath you. To say you were surprised by how needy and bold he suddenly was would have been the understatement of the century. 

“God damn baby, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you last week. Not when you looked so embarrassed with these pretty tits begging me to get an eyeful of’em.” He leaned down and bit you through the shirt, not caring how ridiculous he probably looked. 

“Ohh Clark…please.” You weren’t sure what it was you were begging him for and you couldn’t care less.

“What do you want darling? I’ll give you anything you want. You’ve been such a good little sweetheart, wearin’ my shirt all week long. Were you Y/N?” You didn’t realize he was asking a question until he pulled away and lightly smacked your ass, begging you to answer him.

“Wh-what?”

“I asked, were you wearin’ my shirt all week?” 

“Oh god fuck, yes. Yes I was.” You tried to get out of his grasp to touch him but he didn’t let you, teh vice grip he had around your waist letting you know he wasn’t planning on letting up anytime soon.

“Such a pretty darling. Tell me Y/N, why didn’t you give it to me when you were done?” Before you could answer him, Clark was maneuvering you around, and for some reason, you were still surprised by the sheer power this man had because he handled you as if you weighed nothing. You found yourself buried under the hunk of flesh, and although you should have felt somewhat claustrophobic, you didn’t. On the contrary, you felt safe surrounded by him.

“I- it’s going to sound stupid.” You tried to distract him because you were afraid he’d think you were weird. 

“Please, baby. Tell me.” The man cooed in your ears and you were amazed by how soft he was being when a moment ago, he was just about ready to devour you.

“Y-you smell nice…your cologne, it helped me get work done. A-and I slept better when I wore it. Made me feel safe.” You couldn’t look at him, not wanting to drive him away by your obsession. You did only meet a week ago. 

You took his silence for disgust and were about to push him away when he crushed you with his weight, stopping all thoughts of wanting to get away from him.

“Fucking hell Y/N, you’re going to be the death of me.” As soon as you looked into his eyes, Clark was pushing you further into the couch, his lips savoring every inch of your own, biting and engulfing them like a madman.

“Shouldn’t have gone to Gotham. Should’ve stayed here and tried to ask you out.” He was babbling nonsense, taking both of your hands in his and raising him high above your head. 

“Oh god Clark…”

“Have dinner with me baby?”

“Yes anything. I’ll do anything you want me to do…j-just don’t stop. Please don’t stah-ahh,” you screamed in surprise when you heard buttons clattering across the floor, looking down at the ruined shirt before attempting to focus on Clark.

He was smiling devilishly at you, maintaining eye contact as he ripped the rest of the shirt before giving your newly exposed skin some attention. The man somehow was becoming sexier by the second and you had a feeling tonight would be a night you’d never forget.

He kissed up your stomach, licking the valley between your breasts before winking at you. Before you could beg him to not do the same with your bra, he was already ripping it in half, not bothering with your little whines as he attacked your nipples. You were a moaning mess beneath him, his name like a prayer on your lips as he sucked and bit and pinched your hardened peaks. 

Clark continued his assault on you, not caring that you were shaking in his arms at this point. You were torn between looking down at him and throwing your head back to enjoy the sensations coursing through you. He moaned and growled as he sucked and pinched your nipples harder, occasionally jutting his hips and showing you just how much he wanted to have you.

It was so little, crept up on you without you noticing. Almost as if it was forced out of you. At a particular thrust of his hips, you were arching your back and pushing your breasts into his face, swearing and screaming his name until he slowly eased you down from your little high.

“Did…did you just-” Clark didn’t move a muscle, his cock finally catching up with his brain because did he just make you come without even touching your pussy?

“C-clark.” You sighed his name, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes when you suddenly realized what just happened. 

Before you could attempt an apology at how pathetic your body was, Clark was sitting up and trying to take his pants off. When you saw him fumbling through the simplest of tasks, you felt heated and proud to have made this man a mess, unbuckling his belt and throwing it away before pushing down the zipper and trying to kick his pants down. He barely managed to take off his shoes and socks, marveling at how soft and warm your hands were against his skin as you dragged his jeans down his legs. 

“I need you, please. I need you inside me Clark. Now.” You begged insistently, no longer bothered by how needy this man made you. He nodded frantically and was about to pull down his boxer briefs when he remembered something. You watched him look around for something, furrowing your eyebrows at him before you realized what it was he wanted. “On the pill.” You half-yelled at him, not wanting to waste anymore time because you were so close to finally having him. He nodded at you and quickly got rid of his boxers, standing up and watching as your facial expression hardened and fear washed over your skin. 

“Oh fuck,” you swore louder than you intended, eyes shifting from his leaking cock to his face. How the hell were you going to fit that in you?

“Shit, baby don’t look at me like that. W-we can stop. I could just-” Clark tried to slow down, not wanting to hurt or even scare you in any way. 

“You kidding me? I’ve only been thinking about you fucking me senseless ever since I saw you. You’ll fit, it’ll be tight but y-you’ll fit. Just- just be gentle…go slow.” Your words slowed down as you became less and less positive that he was, in fact, going to fit his cock inside you and you watched as it twitched between his legs with every comment you said. 

“Fuck, don’t say things like that darling.” Clark was slowly losing himself in you, but he really didn’t want to let that affect him in any other way. He leaned down slowly, pulling you up until you were standing on one foot before turning you around in his arms and laying back on the couch with you on top of him. 

“Come here Y/N.” He whispered in your ears, wanting to feel your weight on top of him to remind him of how fragile you were in his arms. 

“Clark, I-” You turned your head to try and look at him, shutting your eyes when you felt his hands roaming your body. 

“Shhh sweetheart I got you. I’ll go slow, won’t even hurt you. But you have to promise that, ah fuck, i-if you do feel like you can’t do this, tell me. Don’t wanna lose you Y/N.” You weren’t sure what made you shudder, how kind he was even when he was painfully hard, or how he was making sure to let you know this wasn't just sex for him.

You nodded against him, spreading your legs across his thighs and looking down to see where his hands stopped. He made small circles around the outer lips of your pussy, groaning in your ears when he felt how wet and hot you were for him.

“Ready for me?” Clark reluctantly asked, waiting until you hummed your approval before grabbing his cock and inching the leaking tip into your pussy. He stopped moving when he felt you throw your head back against him, about to ask you if it was too much when you grabbed his hand and moved it towards your center, where you were joined. 

“F-fuck ahh Clark, y-you can keep going.” You barely managed to say to him, focusing on your lower muscles and trying to loosen up a bit to get used to him. Clark on the other hand was having a hard time, in more ways than one, trying to not shove his dick all the way inside of you. But when he heard your little plea, he couldn’t deny you anything, thrusting up into you and waiting until you adjusted to him stretching you out before moving again.

Within minutes, you were a mess above him, repeating his name over and over as you felt his cock reach so deep inside you while his hand circled around your clit.

“Fucking hell Y/N, you’re so tight. So warm and tight…such a good darling aren’t you?” He whispered words of encouragement in your ears, continuing to slowly buck his hips up into you as his hands touched your skin. 

“Clark, you feel so good…stretching me out like no one else. I- oh god ohh my god yes right there, I’ve never had big cock like you before.” You were sure he was going to split you in half and the thought of him destroying you made you even wetter. You could hear him pushing in and out of you, your juices letting him slide in easier than a few minutes before.

“Yeah baby just like that, keep taking my cock. You’re so good to me darling…made for me. Could spend hours inside you Y/N, if you only let me.” Clark kissed your shoulders before biting and sucking red marks across your neck, wanting to touch you anywhere he could reach. 

You finally managed to turn your head around enough to look at him, forcing your eyes to open and gasping when you could barely make out the blue of his orbs. You leaned down and kissed him, holding onto the hand snaked around your thighs and pleasuring you before you felt a different kind of heat spread inside you. 

Clark came with a growl, holding you down to him as he continued to fuck you. You fisted your hands around the couch, shaking in his arms when you felt him harden even more inside you. 

“Clark, you…did you-”

“Please baby, can I keep fucking you? Please, you feel like heaven.” You were sure you died and went to a different reality because this man did not have a refractory period and was probably going to be the death of you.

“Yes, fuck, yes okay just- I need to look at you, touch you, move with you.”

“Shit yeah alright I can do that, let me.” Clark slowly sat up, pulling you off of him and wincing when the cold air hit his skin. He didn’t give you a chance to get used to being empty, immediately pulling you onto his lap and lowering you down on his still hard cock before leaning up to kiss you. You hissed at the stretch again, distracting yourself with his lips and the flexing muscles beneath your hands to not think of how deep he was reaching inside of you.

Supporting your weight on him, you started riding him at a slightly quicker pace, wanting to come on his cock just once before he continued to use you to get off. 

“Come on Y/N, want to feel this pretty little cunt come ‘round me. Please darling, will you give me that? Will you come around me? So..f-fucking good,” Clark reached around and grabbed your ass, finding it incredibly sexy that you were scratching his chest to release some of that tension you felt from having him stretch you out.

Hearing him begging you to come around him was probably what had done it.. Or perhaps it was the way his muscles rippled beneath you each time you sought out his skin for support. It didn’t matter in the end because Clark fucked you through your orgasm, whispering nonsensical things in your ears and waiting until you returned to your senses before he asked you a question.

He remained motionless to not distract you, pulling you to his chest to kiss you again before nuding you to answer him.

“Let’s move this to the bedroom?” Clark asked, perhaps the third or fourth time, chuckling against you when you just nodded and wrapped your limbs around him. He carefully stood up, refusing to pull out while trying to not hurt you and push in any further. You didn’t show any sign of discomfort when he stood to his full height, slowly walking around the table towards the only hallway in the apartment. 

When he did get to your room, he wrapped his arms around your back and made sure to lay down on the bed without breaking the hazy spell you were under. When he was sure you were comfortable, he supported his weight on his arms and pulled away from your neck to get a better look at you. 

He found you smiling and staring back at him, hands moving his sweaty hair away from his handsome face while the other one still held onto his arms. 

“Clark.” The way you said his name twisted something in his stomach and he knew that he couldn’t possibly go on without telling you his secret. He didn’t want to risk putting your life in danger, but something told him you’d be willing to take that chance for him. At least he hoped he was worth it to you.

“Y/N, I-”

“Please, move…let me make you feel good baby.” You cut him off, knowing he was probably trying to say something that didn’t need to be addressed anytime soon.

And my god, when he did start thrusting into you again, it was like you found the answer to a question you never knew you had. He was so gentle, kissing you everywhere and smiling when he saw the dazed expression aimed at him. He continued to whisper sweet things in your ear, occasionally pinching your nipples or rubbing your clit with his navel. 

You arched your back against him, feeling the familiar tug in your lower stomach but wanting to wait until he came with you. You could tell Clark was chasing after his orgasm because his grunts grew louder and his rhythm faltered. His arms moved from caging you in to grabbing your neck and pushing you up to him so he could kiss you. In the end, it was his neediness that pushed you over the edge, crying out his name as you felt him thrust into you one, two, three times before you felt the familiar heat fill your insides.

Had you had one functioning neuron, you would have marveled at how much more he came the second time around. But you didn’t.

The both of you stayed wrapped around each other until Clark realized that should he stay inside you any longer, he would probably go for round three, and the last thing he wanted was to freak you out by how long he could go. 

When he finally forced himself to pull out, he swore under his breath at the sight of his cum leaking out of you and before he could stop himself, he was pushing his cum back into your cunt, smirking with pride when your legs shook and you winced at the thick fingers pushing in and out of you.

Clark, however, was surprised when he didn pull his fingers out and watched as you grabbed his wrist and pulled the two digits into your mouth, never losing eye contact as you licked and sucked his fingers till they were clean.

“You’re going to be the death of me Y/N.” Clark smiled before falling to the side and wrapping his arms around you. You sighed happily, looking up at him as you traced shapes around his chest. 

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Clark asked to make sure you weren’t feeling any discomfort. 

“Pretty sure I won’t be able to walk for the next few days but fuck me it was worth it.”

“Careful what you wish for Y/N.” Clark warned and you laughed against him before you snuggled into his embrace. 

A few minutes passed in silence before you realized you needed to ask him what’s been on your mind ever since he walked into your apartment.

“You aren’t put off by my age are you?” Clark looked quizzically at you before pushing up to his elbows, making sure you knew he was giving you his undivided attention. You continued to play with his chest hair, refusing to look at him when you elaborated. “I just know that…well, sometimes, older guys don’t take younger girls too seriously and..what I wanted to tell you was-”

“This wasn’t just sex to me Y/N. I want to go on dates with you. I want to take you out to galas we have at work. I want to help you out when you’re too stressed or when you need to vent about something. I want to be here with you. If anything, I feel like you deserve someone your age.” Clark combed back your hair, taking the hand on his chest and bringing it to his lips before kissing it over and over again.

“I don’t think I can find anyone my age that’ll make me feel as safe as you make me.” Clark would never get used to hearing you admit you feel safe with him. It did something to him knowing you weren’t one to shy away from vocalizing your thoughts and emotions. 

“You mean you won’t find a guy who’ll let you steal his shirts and walk around with them.” You punched his chest and allowed yourself to breathe again because now that you got this off your chest, you could be sort of normal again. 

Clark was about to say something when he felt you trace his skin again, the hairs on his arms feeling standing up at your obvious attraction to him. He wasn’t a vain man, far from it, but he felt happy that you were pleased with him. 

“Don’t tempt me sweetheart.”

“What? I’m just reviewing for the exam. You don’t want me to fail do you?” You asked playfully, hoping to god he didn’t feel weird by how much you wanted to touch him.

“By all means, review.” Clark laid his head over his arms, flexing the muscles you were currently “studying” before looking down and raising an eyebrow at you. “But I’m not responsible for what’s to follow.”

“Is that a promise or a warning?”

In the blink of an eye, Clark was shoving himself between your legs, shamelessly rolling his hips against your wet core and not caring that you probably needed some rest before you went for it again.

“It’s just my southern hospitality darling.”

[crimsonrae]

Drowned Desires

Summary: Pirates plunder wasn’t always jewels and gold. Sometimes their bounty was flesh. Captain Cavill had found his treasure in the shape of a feral woman.

Pirate!HenryxOFC

Warning: Kidnapping, coercion, trapped, spanking, ultimatums, dry humping, masturbation. Dark Themes below. read at your own risk.

A/N: I have written and rewritten sections of this several times, but it took nearly deleting it all by accident to get me to post. I hope you all enjoyed. 

Drowned Desires

Wooden planks whined and groaned as waves licked and lapped at the ship's underbelly. It was a familiar tune, as much as the heavy thumps of feet upon the deck, the clash of swords, and the cries of men – so familiar that the Captain heard none of it as he perused the papers and trinkets hidden away in the desk of his now fallen counterpart.  

His men never understood his predilection for ship diaries and official correspondence, not when there were shinier prizes at hand. Yet, he understood what they did not...information would always fetch a far higher price than any piece of jewelry – not that he didn’t take his share of that too.    

A faint smirk spread lazily across his lips as he drew his finger across beautifully inked letters that denoted the mark of nobility. His mind already hungered for the letter's contents – for what could nobility want in the Caribbean wild?  

“Captain!” Sapphire-iced eyes flicked to the cabin door with disinterest before returning to his venture, “Captain!”  

With a roaring slam, the door flew open to reveal his first mate, but he was not alone. A wild maelstrom of silk impressively blocked the large man from view as guttural grunts and screams filled the cabin.  

Henry raised an innocuous brow as he watched the virulent struggle, silently amused by the brief glimpses of frustration on Brooks’s face as he maintained his hold on what Henry could only assume was a feral girl.  

“Be quiet!” Brooks barked, finally having enough as he shoved the girl to the ground. His bulky frame took up the entirety of the cabin’s exit as he glared almost mutinously at his captain.  

Henry licked his lip and smirked before peering curiously over the edge of the wide desk to the sprawled form below. A mass of hair flipped back to reveal a startlingly beautiful and mature face. Unbidden, lust stirred within his veins.  

Not a girl, then. A woman.  

A very angry woman, Henry mused as he sat back and stared at his first mate, “Is there a reason why she’s not locked in the stores with the others?”  

“She ripped Thatcher’s ear clear off, Captain. He’s demanding recompense.” Brooks intoned wearily as he kept a watchful eye on the now oddly quiet woman.

Henry’s brow arched higher, if possible, as again he leaned over the desk to take in the fallen woman. She was paying him no mind, having come to her knees. Her eyes shifted about the room as if looking for an exit or a weapon. It was then that Henry was able to note the faint glimpse of red staining her skin – not on her hands, but her neck and mouth. It wasn’t hard to deduce what Thatcher had attempted that had cost him his ear.  

“I take it young Mr. Thatcher, is currently being attended to which is why he’s not here to plead his case.” Henry murmured, as he took in the long line of her throat and the gentle swells that teased the hem of her bodice. Blood had stained her flesh here too, but he found his cock twitching despite her dishevelment. He could see why Thatcher had chosen her.  

“Aye, Captain.”  

“And what say you, woman?” Henry queried lightly, smirking as her gaze finally alighted on him. Wariness, fury, and a touch of fear – but not as much as he expected, “Should I let Thatcher have his pound of flesh?”  

She said nothing, her fine eyes narrowing into a fierce glare. It made him want to grin. How had Thatcher missed the fire she emanated? But then, the deckhand was not the brightest of his crew.  

Henry tilted his head, “Oh, don’t play mute now. Not after the ruckus of your entry.”  

He barely had the words out when something wet hit his cheek. If it were possible the entire cabin stilled, even the creaking of the ship had quieted. The captain’s amusement with the situation had disappeared as he stoically wiped the spittle from his person.  

“I suppose I should be grateful to still have my ear.” He muttered with deceptive gentleness as he leveled a cold stare onto the woman. She stiffened in preparation of an attack, but none came as his attention turned back to his first mate, “Leave us.”  

There was a moment of hesitation before the cabin door swung shut with as decorous a roar as it had been opened. To the woman still kneeled on the floor, it was almost like hearing a nail pounded into her coffin. There was little point in trying to leave. She would merely end up on the deck with the savage crew that had taken the ship hostage. If she were lucky then she might make it to the water, but that was only a slower death.  

“What’s your name?” His words were measured and deliberate, “And do not spit at me again lest you wish to feel the back of my hand.”  

“...Mary.” She muttered after a moment.  

Henry snorted, her pause had given her away, “Too pious a name for you. Try again.”  

She huffed indignantly, but acquiesced, “Elowyn. Elowyn O’Dara.”

There was a faint lilt to her voice that agreed with her name, though even this moniker seemed too tame for her spirit, “Ms. O’Dara, why aren’t you locked in the stores with the other passengers?”  

If eyes were daggers, he’d be dead as her glare became pointed, “Your man already told you.”  

“Surely, you don’t simply have a predilection for tearing off ears – or shall I say a taste.” He prodded, wanting his suspicions confirmed, “What exactly provoked you?”  

“He looked at me funny.” Elowyn hissed bitingly.  

Henry pursed his lips, a reproach on the tip of his tongue when better sense prevailed him. Despite the grand silks she wore, her gown was ill-fitted. The sleeve came within a breath of falling off her shoulder and her speech while refined was far blunter than any gentlewoman. He had a new suspicion about his little spitfire.  

“Is that all it takes?” Henry taunted as he towered over her. Well aware that her dangerous mouth was aligned to an appendage far more valuable than an ear. In fact, it was the image of her mouth and that appendage which enticed him to draw closer still, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze and avoid undue embarrassment. He swore that he could feel her breath even through the thick leather of his trousers.  

Elowyn growled, though the flush of her cheeks belied any indifference, “Why should it take more?”  

“I think it would take more.” He stated quietly. His finger curled under her chin and urged her to stand. He wanted the full measure of her. Not the defiant victim she had curled herself into.  

The fabric of her gown swished and whispered as it draped around her body like a protective cloak. Her eyes sparkled wildly at him, warily – like twin pillar flames of a candelabra. He had no doubt that she would attack him as fervently as she had his man if he were to push his luck. He was tempted to try anyway...but a greater desire lurked in his heart.  

She would bend to him first.  

He let his finger trail down the line of her throat as he kept his gaze locked with hers, taking in every twitch and tremble that she tried so valiantly to hide. His touch smoothed across her shoulder, warm and chafing against her delicate flesh until, at last, he reached that clinging hem.  

Almost thoughtfully, he traced that strained neckline, “Tell me, did your mistress press you into her dress to hide, or have you been trying to pass yourself off as a gentle lady for your voyage? Graces and airs do open many doors.”  

Elowyn stilled as his words took home, “I’ve no idea of what you speak.”  

“I’m sure you don’t.” Henry hummed knowingly, “A good liar you are not, Ms. O’Dara. Which makes me inclined to think you were pressed into this gown. However, like recognizes like and I think I’ve merely unsettled you.”  

“The devil would be unsettled by you.” She murmured; heat resonated through her bosom as his fingers hovered over her swells, but he didn’t touch... just teased.  

He grinned roguishly, amused by her scorn, “Either way... it does beg the question, how are you going to keep yourself from ruin? Even if you leave my presence – and that of my crew’s untouched – you’re still caught in something of a predicament, lass.”  

Confusion furrowed her brow at his words and only deepened as he stepped away from her to lean against the ornate desk behind him. Smug and insufferable it galled her to ask after his meaning, “The only predicament I’ll have is giving the navy a name for the swine that dared board this ship.”  

Henry barked a sharp laugh before giving a mocking bow, “Why Captain Henry Cavill at your service, milady? But do you honestly think that if I were to return you to the stores below that assumptions wouldn’t be made?”  

Elowyn’s lips pursed, a silent refusal to entertain his inquiry. It only delighted him.

“You’ve been gone too long, lass. They know why Ole Thatch took you. Probably already assume that you’re dead. And let’s say you were pressed into this gown by your mistress... Loyal though you were, what use does she have for a spoiled maid? Best to send you on your way. And if you are a gentlewoman, word of your ruin will reach all and sundry before the ship is even done being berthed. No hoity-toity wealthy gentleman will look at you twice. All your prospects gone.”

Her cheeks were scarlet with humiliation, and she gritted her teeth as she scolded him, “Does this please you? These cruel games? I demand to be taken back to the stores.”  

His eyes twinkled mirthfully, “Oh that’s it, Luv. Not bad for a gentlewoman, but you should tremble a little more to sell it.”

She barely bit back a snarl, even as her body moved without permission. To the surprise of both Henry and Elowyn, her slim hand snatched the pistol tucked into his belt and had it pressed under his chin before either could blink.  

“Get. Off. This. Ship.” She sniped, hand minutely trembling as she stared straight into his now unimpressed eyes.  

Outside the sounds of battle and the thumping of steps had dwindled to a steady few. His crew had overwhelmed the other and were taking what ever they could find back to the Kalliope. His time aboard was limited anyway... but still, it wouldn’t do to have this slip of a girl think she gained the upper hand. No longer was he willing to see her submit, but he would see her pride broken.  

It was time he acted like a pirate.  

“I intend to.” He murmured.  

It wasn’t what she had expected him to say, and her moment of bafflement worked to his advantage as he ducked down and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed in much the same way she had in entering the room.  

He heard the soft click of his gun and grinned when she comprehended that there was no bullet to be shot. He had used his powder on boarding, his pistol now a pretty decoration for his ruthless image. Her screams became even more enraged.  

He chuckled and ignored her pounding fists to his back as he stepped out to the deck, “Brooks!”  

His steadfast first mate appeared with nary a word and a raised brow. Yet, Henry knew he wouldn’t ask the question dancing on his tongue, “Ms. O’Dara will be joining us. See to it that the rudder of this ship is disengaged and gather the men back aboard Kal. I want to be sailing with the wind within the hour.”  

“Aye, Captain.”  

No further words were spoken nor needed between the two though that hardly stopped the squalling of the harridan thrashing his back. Grunting in frustration, he crossed the boarding ramp in two steps as his palm placed a resound slap onto Elowyn’s wriggling rump. A silent warning to be still which she did not heed.

“Put me down!”  

It must have been the hundredth time she had shrieked this, but as Henry crossed the threshold of his cabin he decided to finally obey, “Very well.”  

Grim amusement touched his lips as he tossed her onto his bed, her skirts flew wild, and he caught a tempting glimpse of the thin cotton of her bloomers. Those would not last long, like the whores of Nassau she would learn to stay bare beneath those skirts.  

Ever defiant, Elowyn flew up from her supine position and slid from the bed before he could blink. Her speed was impressive, but she was not fast enough to beat the closing of the door as the lock clicked into place. Smirking, Henry seized the bottle of whiskey from the corner of his desk as he fell languidly into his chair to watch the despairing storm that descended upon his captive.  

Elowyn yanked heartily on the handle, a torrent of panic and anger spurning her heart. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she was furious to find a sob pulling at her throat as the sands counting down her freedom quickly dwindled. She could not be trapped here. It simply was not to be born.  

All the while, Elowyn could feel his gaze burn into her back. Not for the first time her stomach clenched under the weight of his attention. She detested the stirrings of lust his visage had enticed; his quiet perusal of her body had done much to set a simmering awareness along her skin that could only be calmed by the touch of another.  

She slammed her palm against the hardwood of the door as her head became bowed with defeat.  

“I am no one’s whore.” Her voice hoarse from her screams broke the expectant silence.  

For a moment, the captain wondered if she could read minds. However, the longer he was in her presence the more he thought she was an innocent maid... if only her protest had not been so despondent. Tired. Bitter. As if this was a situation not uncommon.

“Aren’t you?” The words were spoken with seemingly little thought as Henry took a light swig from his bottle. A pleasantly harsh warmth burned over his tongue and down his throat as the dark liquid sought out his blood.  

A low snarl emanated from her, and Henry watched curiously as she whirled to face him. His breath was stolen by the fury in her watery gaze. Her lips had curled back into a sneer, and she stood defiant. Wrathful, proud, and stunning. She was Circe reborn.  

The entertained glint that shined in the face of her rage, merely cemented her ire as she strode across the room with the full command of a Goddess. She let the dress fall from her shoulders to twist and drown around her torso before falling lost to the floor. She trod on it and over it with little care.  

Henry devoured the view of her corset and bloomers. Her curves were more pronounced with the clinging material of her undergarments and yet not enough. He’d rather see her bare.  

Elowyn pointedly ignored the hunger of his countenance and snatched the whiskey from his hand. Her throat bobbed deliciously as she downed one mouthful and then two before throwing the bottle at the very door she longed to escape through.  

A sharp thunk and the glittering clatter of shattered glass echoed through the cabin. Henry arched a brow in mild disappointment, “That was a very expensive bottle.”  

“That I’m sure you stole.” Elowyn countered as she moved to straddle his lap. Her gaze was taunting as her fingers laced into the collar of his shirt, “Is this what you wanted, Captain?  

He hummed, amused by her show of bravado, and respected her attempt at taking control, but he could see the quivering girl just below the surface. He delved his hands beneath the hem of her corset, gliding calloused fingers around the satin flesh of her waist. Goosebumps raised like waves in a storm at his touch.  

A sharp gasp left Elowyn’s throat as one hand slid down beneath her bloomers to grasp the firm muscle of her bottom and squeeze. It was like lightning had been released across her hide. Visceral mordant liquid pooled in her loins, and she tried not to squirm. She didn’t want him to see how affected she truly was, even as evidence blossomed across the flimsy material guarding her.  

Yet, as she held his dark stare, she swore that the staccato beating of her heart had given her away. A cool thrill shivered across her skin, only to be chased by a flaming warmth that she could not control. Beneath the rough cotton of her corset, her nipples puckered and pebbled, and she felt a shameful heat spread over her breasts to her collar and up her neck.  

He hadn’t even kissed her.  

He leant forward, teasingly drawing his lips along the shell of her ear. Henry grinned at the small shivering whimper that spilled from her lips at such an act. He had to wonder if she was worried that he would do to her what she had done to Thatch. Tauntingly, his tongue shot out and suckled her delicate lobe into his mouth as her knuckles whitened to match his collar.  

She mewled prettily and arched into his hold, unable to voice the word stop. He wouldn’t have, even if she begged.  

He lathed attention to her sensitive appendage for another few seconds before gently nipping the tender flesh, “I think this what you wanted, lass.”  

She swallowed tightly and tried to bring forth the dispassionate woman that had brought her to his lap, “No.”  

“No?” Henry almost sang, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. He nuzzled the plush swell of her cheek, breathing a kiss to the corner of her mouth as his fingers made quick work of the laces of her corset. A faint copper taste dazzled his tongue – had she enjoyed the taste of Thatcher’s blood?  

Her breath hitched as she felt the boned fabric slide from her bosom. It took every ounce of strength not to fold her arms in and hide. She had tried to out bluff the monster but had goaded him into action instead. Brute violence would not remove her from this situation. She knew this instinctively, and as his bristled cheek chafed against the silk of her neck and chest, Elowyn became uncertain if she wanted to be removed.  

Gossamer licks of pleasure pulsated from his rough skimming, and his hot breath ignited a current of desire that made her stomach clench with need. She felt suddenly empty and as his supple lips latched onto her pointed teet, she keened. Unthinkingly, she rocked into his pelvis in a feeble attempt to fill the throbbing void between her legs. Her cunt dripped and twitched needily as he suckled.  

Elowyn sputtered and gasped at his forceful pulls, pressing down harder into his lap and ultimately onto his erection. She wasn’t sure when, but her fingers had delved around the bandanna holding back his wild mane as she tried not to fall into his ardent mouth, but she was helpless against his assault. He would devour her.  

“Please.” She breathed.  

Henry smiled and lightly bit down on her tortured tit, admiring the dark hue her sensitive flesh had garnered from his attentions, before moving his attention to her other breast, “Please, what?”  

She arched as he began his attack anew. Her hips coming alive as she undulated frenetically against him. A pressure had started to build, a delicious force stood just out of reach and she just... just needed.  

Henry’s strong hands dug into her hips stilling her movements. He knew that she was on the cusp of climax. He could smell the heady scent of her arousal, but such satisfaction would not be had until she took his cock.  

Elowyn wailed in frustration, “Please!!”  

“Please, what?” He iterated again. His fingers latched onto the seam of her bloomers. One fierce tug would be all he needed to tear her undergarment in two.  

Her pride screamed at her to remain silent, but the wanton in her demanded she cave. Elowyn bit her lip as she tried to stave off another plea. Instead, she sought out the lace of his breeches and swiftly freed him of his leather confines.

Henry allowed her this and watched with a jovial grimace as she took in his hidden pistol. Her eyes widen at his size, her thighs clenching over his at the thought of taking him. He would not fit, but he would certainly fill her. She dragged a curious nail over his weeping head, jolting as his manhood twitched and bobbed under her innocent exploration.  

He hissed, “Either suck me off, lass, or finish your request. If I must choose what comes next, you will find little pleasure in my actions.”  

Her gaze flew up to his, noting the seriousness she found staring back at her. She swallowed tightly, “T-take me.”  

A cruel grin twitched at his lips, “Take you where?”  

She bristled at his mocking, “Copulate with me, like the pig you are.”  

SMACK!  

She gasped at the pain that flared through her hind-side and barely refrained from moaning as the reverberation echoed with her desire.  

Henry tutted, “Name-calling when you’re begging? Not very gracious. Especially as you were the one to come to me, Luv.”  

“Bastard!” She spat and choked on another moan as he assaulted her rear once more.  

He grinned, “Enjoy that do you?”  

She cursed him again and he laughed, “Should I take the cat and nine tails to you? What a saucy minx you’re turning out to be.”  

“I loathe you.” Elowyn murmured through gritted teeth, “What do you want from me?”  

He smiled bitingly at her, “Ask nicely and remember my title.”  

She growled and tore from his hold as her pride won out for the moment. He watched her with the gaze of a predator as she discarded the last of her garments. She flung herself onto his bed and splayed her legs wide. She would not capitulate to him.  

At least not verbally.    

Henry’s mouth watered greedily as her nimble little fingers delved and played with her soaked mound. She was playing a very dangerous game. She stroked her sweet little nub with feverish intensity, allowing her moans to fill the cabin like a sonorous symphony. She put on a lovely lurid show and he couldn’t pull his gaze away as she ran a finger along the edge of her cunt, teasing him with a view of her seeping hole. It took little time for her to find that pleasure peak again and even less for him to lose his patience.

In less than three steps he was between her legs, knocking her hands away from her lush garden.  

In two breaths, he was poised at her entrance.  

In one kiss, he speared her with the intensity of a hunter claiming his prey.  

He swallowed her raucous cry and reveled in the silent tear the swam down her cheek as he brutal entrance. Unbridled heat scored up his manhood as her wet cavern suckled him reluctantly to her womb. He had warned her what would happen if he were to choose.  

Groaning, he could not still for long and raised his knee for leverage as he began a brutal pace toward release. Despite his harsh embrace, it was not long before her hips met his, seeking salvation from his unrelenting torrent.  

Her muscles strained from being split, but the sharp ache was diminished by the relief of being so completely stuffed. Her pride wailed in horror at being proven the whore, but Elowyn cared little. Pleasure scalded and overwhelmed her like a bubbling hot spring. 

Henry was everywhere.  

Grasping, biting, prodding, and shoving. 

He pulled sounds from her throat she had never heard before... but she was no better. Willing, she spread her thighs wider for him, welcoming his passionate tempest as he soundly cast her to the waves of ecstasy.  

She cried out fervently as she drowned, and her body clung to him as if it were a buoy. Her walls became a vice, now trapping him to her as she fell victim to her carnal desires, “Captain!”  

Henry watched her erupt through half-hooded eyes, captivated by the euphoria that descended upon her. He groaned as her walls clenched even tighter around him, demanding his seed.  

He thrust once.  

Twice.  

Thrice more before he gave in to her delicious demand and came with a roar, filling her to brim as he enjoyed the way his cock spasmed in time with her tremors. Lazily, he pressed a kiss to her temple as she quivered against him.  

Elowyn peered up at him with wide eyes, shame seeping into her mien as the weight of her actions crashed down onto her. She tried to cover herself, but Henry refused to let her move. He trapped her wrists above her head as he trapped her stare with his, “You have a choice now, lass. Be a good girl and warm this bed or walk out of this cabin and warm my crew’s. Either way, you’ll be a whore, but whose... well that remains up to you.”  

Tears welled as he pulled out of her with a wet plop. Only then could she see the image she painted. Ruined and laid bare before the man who had stolen her as he fixed his trousers and shirt. She hated how little she had resisted him, how much she still wanted him. She had no recourse. He had extracted his pound of flesh as she drowned in her desires. 

She would be his whore.  

It was then she knew that Captain Henry Cavill wasn’t merely a pirate, he was the devil too.

[angryschnauzer]

Never Stroke A Tigers Stripes

Summary; Tired hands wander, and when sat next to your superior officer aboard a flight back to DC, you get yourself in a bit of a predicament.

(Wholly based on the realisation that there is a stripe of fabric ‘tuxedo style’ running down the leg of Henry/August’s pants legs in Mission Impossible Fallout)

Drabble dedicated to @littlefreya​. I can’t send you flowers, but i can send you a smutty drabble.

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Mission Impossible: Fallout

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type mentioned)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fingering, Thigh Riding.

Wordcount: 721

Not beta’d, only the finest organic free range typo’s for me, allowed to run wild and free.

For fic updates see @angryschnauzerwrites​, for masterlist see AO3

Never Stroke A Tigers Stripes

47 hours; that’s how long you’d been awake. The mission had bounced around half the continent, with helicopter rides, car chases and all manner of fights and infiltrations. But in the end it had all worked out, and now you were sat on the commercial flight home, beyond exhausted but also buzzing from so much adrenaline that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep until you were back in your own bed and had eeked at least two if not three orgasms out of your body to give you enough serotonin to finally let your brain relax.

It was a small charter flight, a Boeing 737 or similar, and as your mission had ended in a well known tourist spot, it was just easiest to hop onto a charter flight back to DC. The battery on your phone had died long ago, your seatmate squeezed into the isle seat with his long legs stretched out beside you meaning you were against the window. In the last few rows at the back where you were there were only two seats per row, and with the behemoth of man that August Walker was, you could barely see the rest of the plane beyond your seat. 

He was tapping away on his phone, and you absentmindedly rested your head back against the headrest, your hands slipping to the sides of your thighs, just as your fingers touched a seam of fabric. 

With your gaze still firmly fixed on an indefinite point out of the window you explored the stripe of fabric, presuming it was part of the seat or armrest, a stripe of smooth fabric maybe an inch wide, sewn onto a firm wide expanse of slightly rougher fabric. The fabric was warm to touch, the stitching a stimuli under your work tired fingers, the ridges tactile and pleasing. For maybe fifteen minutes you continued to absentmindedly stroke the fabric, before it suddenly flexed beneath your touch and a bolt of realisation shot through your mind; it wasn’t the seat.

“Shit” you muttered under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut. 

You felt August shift, your co-worker and superior officer, his breath warm on your skin;

“Why did you stop?”

-

The door to your apartment crashed open, the handle making a dent in the drywall behind it but you didn’t care, your arms were wrapped around August’s shoulders and your legs around his waist, his lips on yours as he blindly reached for the door and slammed it shut before finally pulling away;

“Bedroom?”

“First door on the right”

With more bumping into furniture he finally made it to your bedroom, the mattress hitting the back of his knees before he softly settled on the covers, bringing you with him until you were straddling his waist. As the kiss broke he quickly worked on the fly of your pants, before with a grunt he ripped the entire inseam of them. Next casualty of his muscles were your panties, but as he plunged two thick fingers into your soaked canal you cried out at the stretch as he growled at you through gritted teeth;

“The way you kept stroking my leg on the plane, i’ve had a fucking raging hard-on since the first second you touched me…”

“I...I didn’t even realise it was you… i thought it was the seat…”

“Well now you’re gonna get yourself off on my thigh, then maybe i’ll give you what you need, Miss ‘need three orgasms to go to sleep’... yes i heard your delirious muttering too”

He lifted you and placed you to straddle his clothed thigh;

“C’mon pet, ride…”

He flexed his thigh muscle beneath you and you let out a groan, steadying yourself as you gripped the sides of his waist and you started to rock back and forth, relishing the friction of the rough fabric, the smooth stripe against your inner thigh as you moved.

His hands gripped your hips and started to move you faster, pushing you ever closer to your peak before it finally hit you like a freight train and you came with a scream as you soaked his pants leg.

Quickly flipping you over he unfastened himself;

“Well done Pet, thats one of three” and he plunged himself deep into you; “Two more to go”