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cavillomania · 7 days

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𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔬𝔴

𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

summary [henry let's you play with bows and you get carried away]

warnings [smut, mouth stuff🎀, bimbo~ish ig, no p in v, pet names, soft dom henry🎀]

being the type of girl you were you loved ribbons and bows. they weren't something you indulged in often as a child, growing up in the country and all, but once you got older you feel in love with them.

you'd put them everywhere, in your hair, on your clothes, there's even some on your walls and others tied around stuffed bears.

Henry had recently gotten you these really cute ribbon bow clips and you were currently sitting beside him putting them in his hair. he's not really paying attention to you, he's used to this kind of treatment and just sat scrolling on his phone. you dropped one of the clips from his hair and in to his lap. as you go to reach for it a thought flashes in your mind. 'can I put a bow on your dick?' you ask your boyfriend after retrieving the clip.

you see the way henry freezes and hurriedly say 'not these, like ribbon' you clear up. he lets out a breath and laugh before looking at you 'I was scared for a sec baby' he says tucking a peice of hair behind your ear making you smile. he returns your smile and leans in for a kiss. 'of course I'll let my pretty girl dress me up' henry says sitting back up with the clips still in his hair.

so excited you jump up and let out a squeal 'omg yay' you scream about to go into you and Henry's shared room for some ribbon. turning to him before you go saying 'don't get hard' which earns you an eye roll as you leave 'you wanna do it or not' he mumbles as your walking but you hear.

in the room your trying to figure out what color ribbon you wanted. you got it down to pink and purple, so you bring them out to henry. 'which one do you want?' you question, you sit beside him on the couch, getting comfortable with your upper half mostly on his lap. 'whatever matches my hair' he says as he scrolls through something.

you go with the pink since he had pink in his hair. unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out your really happy to see the he wasn't hard. it might sound odd but you liked playing with his soft cock. cutting the ribbon to length before throwing everything on to the floor. you start to tie the ribbon at the base of his dick, humming to yourself as henry continued on his phone, you could care less.

looking down at the pretty pink bow you made your so proud in your self. you let out a giggle in excitement and notice the way Henry's cock twitched when you laughed. your mouth begin to water. trying something else you lightly blow making it twitch again.

you mouth became the ocean and you desperatly needed to taste him. opening your mouth and letting droll drip onto the head of his cock before lowering your head and licking it up. 'ohh fuck baby' henry moans out at the unexpected pleasure, finally placing his attention on you.

you take the tip of this cock in your mouth savering the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take his full soft length in. feeling the bow brush against your lips. feeling him swell you come up for air letting out a little whine at the fact that this is the first time he's ever fully fit in your mouth, and it's because hes never let you suck it soft. and it's not gonna last much longer, but you'll enjoy having him in your mouth either way.

looking up to meet his gaze he grips your jaw and squeezes your cheecks together. sticking out your tounge he roughly brings you up for a sloppy kiss, gripping the back of your scalp. he breaks the kiss to leave kisses all over your face before letting you go back down to his cock, which is now fully hard.

bow intact.

you lick from the base to the tip repetadly. bringing your focus more to the head of his cock you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls. 'fuck baby you know daddy likes that' he moans out as his hips buck forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a little before you adjust to it returning to your pace.

henry looks down to the ungodly display infornt of him. you desperatly sucking his cock, pretty hands playing with his balls with a pretty pink ribbon rapped around his cock, your eyes are watery, the floor beneath you full of droll and pre cum. your looking up to him eyes glossed over moaning every so often telling him just how much you love his cock.

'ahh- fuckk, baby im gonna cum' he moaned out. forcing the rest of his cock into your moth and down your throat henry couldn't hold back any longer. his cum being forced down your throat and falling from the sides of your mouth around his cock getting your bow all dirty. removing him from your mouth with a giggle and a smile so happy that you grew into loving bows.

[a/n: this randomly came to me and I wrote it right away so if it's bad blame it on that. 🎀]

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #daddy's good girl

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cavillomania · 17 days

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Bathe in Bliss | August Walker

Pairing: August Walker x afab!reader

Summary: You find yourself linked to August Walker against your will. Desperate to relieve yourself of him, you decide to confront him, and discover just how much of the dangerous man you can really take.

Warnings: MDNI. Dub-conish. Free use-ish. Some plot. Mentions of death/murder. Stalking. Foul Language. Alcohol. Dom!August, Sub!Reader. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Slapping. Pet names. Unprotected p in v. Cream pie. Overstimulation. Dacryphilia. Lowkey somnophilia. August isn't very nice.

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: idk if i love this or hate this, but i wrote it, so here it is lmao. this could very well have additional parts, but i shall see the response to it before making that decision!

You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was how it all began.

You had seen him. Seen him put a bullet through some man’s head in an alleyway on your way home from work, paralyzed in fear when his dark eyes caught you witness the act. Even in the low, flickering lights, you could still make out enough of his features to pose a threat to his anonymity, and the last thing August Walker needed was some reckless girl blowing his cover.

He wasn’t sure how he let you weasel your way into your agreement. Perhaps it was the way your tear filled doe eyes pleaded up at him when he had you pressed up against the alley wall by the throat, or the way your chin quivered as you tried to fight the tears that streamed down your face. Or maybe it was the sweetness of your voice, begging him to spare you.

And if there was one thing August loved, it was hearing someone beg.

He was not above killing civilians when it was necessary, and he did everything in his power to convince himself it was, but you were relentless. Hands clawing at his chest, muffled sobs echoing down the alley, and the repeated prayer of please, please I'll do anything, I won't tell a soul singing from your lips.

He must have gone absolutely insane to have let you go. Of course, not without interrogating you for your name, where you lived, where you worked, and any other information he deemed pertinent to making sure he could find you if needed, promising he would be keeping and eye on you, watching you until he was certain you made no attempts to go to the police.

And watch you he did.

The first time you spotted him was two days after the incident. You were clocking out of your morning shift, only to gasp, startled when you saw him across the street. Standing. Staring. Warning. He wore the same black suit and long coat he had been in the night you witnessed him. Only now, in the daylight, you could really make out his features. Hard and pointed, chiseled jaw sat clenched, and brows that appeared permanently furrowed above frightening eyes. You had taken a deep breath before clutching onto your bag, knuckles going white, and turning towards the direction of your apartment. You would be fine, you told yourself. As long as he kept his distance. It was a big city, and he was bound to get bored of you once he realized you posed no threat. The last thing you wanted was to get involved with whatever he was apart of.

Days turned into weeks. You found yourself shocked at how use to his presence you got. Close enough to be your shadow but too far to touch. Always just checking in, reminding you that he could squander your livelihood whenever he pleased. There was an odd safety that came with it, knowing that if he had his eyes on you, there was no way anything could threaten you. Except the cold blooded killer himself, but something told you he was the least of your worries.

Weeks turned into a full blown month, and after a particularly stressful day at work, you did not find yourself basking in the comfort of your apartment until after eleven o'clock.

You wasted little time kicking off your shoes and stripping down, replacing your uniform for a pair of gray sweatpants and your trusty tattered navy blue t-shirt. A shower would have to wait for the morning; your body ached, and you could not muster the courage to go through the routine now. You absentmindedly made your way to the kitchen, popping open a bottle of red wine and giving yourself a healthy pour. Sipping at the glass, you move to shut your blinds that over look the dark city street below, and are left gasping in fear when you see the familiar outline of your shadow man on the opposite side walk.

"Fuck!" you cursed, clutching at your chest with your free hand, heart racing. You're grateful to not have spilled the red liquid all over your carpet. You are not sure what compelled you to be so reckless - perhaps the throbbing headache and short fuse after already dealing with an abundance of imbeciles for the day - but you put the glass down on the window ledge, unhatched the lock, and swung the window up with a force that suggested your irritation.

With palms leaned against the windowsill, you shouted.

"Hey!" The edge of your voice caught his attention as it echoed down the street. He noted the scowl across your face, biting back his own amusement. "If you're just going to stand there and fucking stare at me, you may as well come inside." You were unable to see his features clearly, but you guessed the way his expression shifted indicated shock followed by contemplation. He licked his lips, gazing over to either side of the street, before you crossed in stride. You slammed the window shut, the blinds followed. Not even a moment later, a buzz rang through your apartment, and panic flooded your stomach.

Why the fuck would you do that?

You contemplated your decision making skills for a moment. Clearly, the days work had gotten too far under your skin, because this degree of recklessness was far beyond you.

The buzzer rang again, and you jumped, startled. There was no going back now.

When you reached your door, you pressed the button that unlocked the common entrance. You heard the door open, then close, followed by the echoing sounds of heavy footsteps. Before he had the chance to knock, you swung the front door open, facing your stalker with a grimace.

The air is silent for long while. Only an exchange of silent loathing. You study him. This is the first time since that night that he was this close, sapphire eyes boring into you with an intensity that suggested he could snap any moment. You knew nothing about this man, but clearly, he knew plenty about you.

Not caring to give him the satisfaction of your apprehension, you turned on your heels, strolling back towards your kitchen and allowing him to let himself in.

"Wine?" you called to him. No response. You scoffed, pouring a glass anyway before meandering back into the living area. He's already hung his jacket on your coatrack, the sleeves of his charcoal button-up pushed up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms. You only allow yourself to stare for a moment before your eyes are back on him, extending the glass. "Yeah, I didn't take you for the wine type, but it's all I've got. Take it or leave it."

You could swear you saw the corner of his lips twitch, as if he was amused by your sudden feistiness. Without complaint, he took the glass, and you nodded, satisfied, retrieving your own off of the window ledge before plopping down on the couch, exhausted.

He is like a shadow. Dense. Unmoving. Watching you. Save for the few sips of wine he takes. You sunk back against the cushions, using your thumb and middle finger to rub at your temples.

"So what are you, like mafia or something?" you questioned. That gets a reaction out of him, a stifled chuckle.

"Why do I get the feeling you're way too smart to be asking such a stupid, reckless question like that?" he quipped. You snapped your head over, somewhat shocked to hear him actually speak. It was the first time you heard his voice since that night, no longer laced with fury, but monotone, deep, sultry even.

You sneered out a fake laugh, chugging back a few more sips of your wine before facing him fully, sitting criss cross on the couch. "If you think I'm so smart, then you should know by now that I have no intention of calling the police or getting involved with whatever you are apart of." You repeated the words you had told yourself time and time again to comfort yourself for being such a coward. Any smart person would have called, but you didn't. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was as gut feeling that deep down you knew a man like this wouldn't kill someone unless they really deserved it.

He pursed his lips at this, taking a few more steps towards the edge of the couch. He set the wine glass down on the coffee table next to yours before folding his arms across his broad chest. His biceps became suffocated by the fabric, and you could not stop that buzz of wine that forced your eyes to linger.

"I know," he deadpanned. This made you even more irritated.

You threw your hands up in annoyance. "Then why are you still fucking following me?!"

Looking back, you really don't know how it happened.

Don't know how you made it to your feet, marching over to challenge him. Don't know how you accused him of being an absolute psychopath, the man you had literally watched kill someone, who was certainly capable of doing it again. Don't know what compelled you to raise a hand at him, about to slap him straight across his stupidly handsome face only for him to catch your wrist and yank you against his chest. Don't know how you allowed his hands to caress over the curve of your waist, gripping onto your ass and forcing his lips against yours. Don't know how you let yourself be washed over by him, ending up with your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as he carried you to your bedroom.

The truth was, August had an obsession with your little game. And he would not stop until he took what he wanted.

The memory of it is seared into your brain.

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"Please," you had begged him. It took him mere moments to reduce you down to your panties, he still fully clothed as he sheathed his body between your thighs. He was littering kisses against your hip bones, both sides of your neck and tops of your breasts already growing generous welts. August was no gentle lover. He slapped your clothed pussy, making you whimper and buck your hips forward.

"Don't be impatient," he had growled, the deep resonance of his voice sending shock waves to your core.

The first orgasm he pulled out of you was with his mouth and fingers. His lips permanently attached to your clit, suckling relentlessly while his middle and ringer finger curl inside your cunt, brushing the skilled strokes against your spongey walls that clench around him. You don't think you've came so hard in your entire life, your entire body arching off the mattress, his free hand forcing you back down as he works you through your release.

The second orgasm, you're on your hand and knees. Ass pressed into the air by the will of his domineering hands on your hips. Your cheek is flushed into the pillow, jaw slack and eyes screwed shut as he ruts into you. He is naked now, Herculean body nearly demolishing your frame. You are mumbling inaudible phrases, but August is able to pick up on a few fucks, oh my god's, and thank you's. He is grinning devilishly, pleased by your pliancy. His cock is splitting you open at an alarming rate, and you're afraid you wont be able to hold yourself up much longer as your thighs rattle. You see stars when he reaches an arm around you, fingers toying with your taut clit as he pounds into you from behind at a punishing pace. Your walls clench around him, milking his cock into you, and he has to bite his lip to avoid cumming then and there.

"That's it, little slut. Cum. Cum all over my cock."

You think you may pass out at the third.

He's got you on your back, pinning your wrists above your head, both of your legs over his shoulders and pushed back against your chest by the weight of him. If you weren't so blissed out, you would have been shocked that your body could contort in such a way. He is grinding up into you, relishing in the way your cunt flutters around him. Swollen, battered, and gushing.

"N-no more," he hears you whimper, a meek excuse of a voice. "Can't...c-can't anymore." There is an edge of pleading to your voice, and when he lifts his head from the confines of your neck, he notices that way your tears stain your cheeks.

"Yes, you fucking can," he demands, and you moan helplessly as he picks up his already unforgiving pace. Your bed shakes, headboard slamming into the wall. Each thrust, his pelvis smacks into your skin, the tuft of hair above his cock tickling your clit. You sob out a loud cry when you feel the coil growing in your belly again. Everything is numb, everything is sensitive. Too sensitive. And when you reach your third climax, your body is not your own. Convulsing under the weight of him, you scream his name, tears staining your pillow the same way your slick coats his cock. He doesn't let up, not until he reaches his own peak, watching his abdomen contract as he plows into you. His breath is heavy, staccato grunts coming from his lips until he pushes the tip of him all the way to your cervix with a roaring groan, spilling into you. Coating your walls with his warm seed.

You're practically vibrating beneath him, and he takes a mental picture of the brain dead look on your face. Swollen lips, wet cheeks, and dazed eyes. You don't stop shaking even after he pulls out of you, squealing when you feel his fingers at your core. They're gathering his spend that seeps out of you, shoving it back inside of you with the most obscene of sounds.

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You're not sure how long you sleep for. In fact, when your eyes initially flutter open, you assume it was all a dream. As if the throbbing of your skin and ache between your legs is not enough of a tell, you rouse when you feel the rough callous of hands at your backside. Your head lulls back to meet with firm flesh, and you moan softly, half awake, half living in your sleepy stupor filled with dreams of what occurred the night before.

They were not just dreams, however, confirmed when you feel the poke of something at your lower lips. Then, you feel it. The familiar stretch that had overtaken you just hours ago. You gasp awake, hands grasping at the sheets, back instinctually arching towards the intruder.

August has his hand at the base of his cock, sliding it inside of you again. And when he is nestled between your folds, his hand comes around to take you by the throat, applying pressure to your carotid, hazing over your vision. You can feel and hear his hot breath against your neck. He doesn't move, just stills inside of you, moaning softly at the way your cunt envelops him. You shiver and feel him smirk against your ear.

"Just couldn't wait until morning to have you again," he grumbles.

He rolls his hips, slowly at first, and you wince. The few hours of rest you had not enough to heal the ache in your cunt, demolished by his will.

"August," you whine sleepily. You think back to when he offered you his name, just before his lips had taunted you. Thinking how boyish it was in comparison to the beast of a man. But he shushes you, keeping his pace a steady thrum of long, tantalizing strokes.

"Hush now, baby," he coos, rather belittling. He could care less how spent you were. He flexes his hand against your neck, earning another pathetic whimper. "I'm going to take what I want again, and I don't want to hear another complaint." And with that, he's picking up the pace of his hips, coming into you from another angle that has you reeling.

You think, then, that being followed is the least of your problems with August Walker.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker fanfiction #daddy cavill #august walker x reader

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