#it would be cool if it got to exist though

[the-kr8tor]

I'm sorry about the last one I just got way too excited to express my admiration for your works, I forgot to check!! But I've checked now and I saw The "Imagine if Hobie was prowler" that actually sounds really cool!! I was thinking if you could write something about that, maybe Reader is someone who he cares a lot for but it turns out they're also fighting against each other, (I haven't actually tackled the whole Universe of spiderman so I was genuinely just thinking of Reader as someone with powers TvT) but yeah I got a bit curious about that, I'm not sure if you wrote about that yet since I haven't went in all the master list and hopefully I don't finish it yet cause I'd be left with the deep emptiness (I love all the series so finishing it while it's ongoing would devastate medhdhx) but if you did you can discard my message or if this is too much, that's alright!!

Oh and I'm really happy I didn't make you Uncomfortable it's my first time writing something to a writer and I got anxious TvT I hope you have a great day!!

No worries! You're good! I put my own spin on it, I hope you like it! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Prowler! Hobie Brown x gn! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw violence, cw injury, tw death, Prowler! Hobie, Venom! Reader, ANGST.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The air runs cold, and your breath staggers in your throat. The fighting around you hasn't stopped, nor all the screaming, and bleeding flesh. But everything seems to cease when you see him. The noises deafen, debris and blood stilling in the air— Hobie in all his glory, covered in metal and crimson iron. Hobie, whose face is obscured by steel plates over his familiar face, purple smoke ebbing out of his suit. And yet, despite his rough and intimidating exterior, despite his sharp claws and sharper gaze, your heart still longs for him. He still feels like home.

Home, you haven't thought of it in years, the trees that dance in the wind, soft lavender wandering through the air. And your little house in the middle of the fields you once shared with him. A house that now ceased to exist, burned to ashes, nothing left but dark soot and blackened smoke that seemed endless. Ever burning, flames still snaking along the lavender fields, forever burying your memories with him under the red hungry flames. Those memories still live with you, deep down. You hope it still lives with him. If not, you'd rip it from your heart and hand it to him in your waiting ruby drenched palms.

“H-Hobie?” You ask in a broken tone, even though your soul knows him from where you stand. In between gore soaked bodies, bodies you've ripped and chewed yourself— he stands there motionless. You wonder if he still bears the warmth you used to hold in your arms.

The metal bridge creaks and squeaks, hinges about to give up from the stress of the fighting in its steel embrace. Tethering close to devouring every soul standing on its last life. You've felt the earth collapse years ago. If the ground fell from under you, would you notice?

Hobie doesn't answer, you see his chest rise and fall, gauntlets leaking blood. You don't know if it's his or someone else's, you just know it's not yours. Not yet. Would he hurt you?

You stand there, all worn out, arms bleeding and throbbing, legs trembling from the sheer pain. And yet, your eyes never leave his own mechanical mask, as if you can see the worry behind the steel curtains.

He stands there, heart ripped out, still beating atop the bodies laid out in front of him. He stands there, but he should walk towards you, run towards you and hold you. Hold you like he once had in that lavender field he once called home, hold you as if he didn't lose you all those years ago.

To live in his delusion, to never leave from the haze of the past. He longs for it, to stay where he once held you.

But the blackened tendrils coming out of your wounds is the one that he's fighting against. It curls around you, wrapping you in its mass. White eyes in place of your own that he sees in his dreams, sharp claws and lolling tongue— he doesn't see you anymore. Can't see you underneath the obsidian flesh of his enemy. He wonders if it's still you under it.

With a gutteral screech from the large mouth of the alien mass inhabiting your body, he takes his guitar from his back to pluck its strings. The noise could kill you, or it could liberate you. So he decides, and he plays.

The sound reverberates around the bridge, the creaking pauses for a moment, replaced by the ear piercing shrieks from the venoms. Hobie sees you crumble to your knees, tentacles of black slime ripped apart at the seams.

Your face is revealed under the mass, contorted into pain, the light in your eyes slowly fading as the creature feeds on your very being. Your nails dig into the slimy flesh, desperately trying to rip it out from your body. Eyes meeting with Hobie's, you nod for him to continue despite the blood spilling from your ears.

With bated breath, he strums again. More shrieking, more screaming, flesh torn apart, teeth chattering above the sound. His eyes never leave from your suffering as tears prick from his eyes. Grief snakes along his stomach up to his chest, pressing hard on his heart.

“Again!” You yell, ripping and gnawing at the agony filled venom. He follows, another strum, and another, one by one, venoms leave their hosts, and one by one, the bridge's wires collapse. But your own demon doesn't yield, it clings to you like a babe, holding onto you like a lifeline.

“C’mon!” Hobie stalks closer, plucking his strings over and over again despite your screams that would haunt his dreams. The venom wraps around you in its cold embrace, your own screams stifled with its arm over your mouth, choking you. “No!”

The bridge crumbles, someone tries to yank him away and take him to safety. But he shrugs them off, even if it means his own death.

“Hobie!” You manage to yell, “run!” It has you in a chokehold, dark veins ebbing from its touch towards your skin. It's killing you with it. Swallowing you in darkness, drowning you.

He abandons his guitar to dig you out of the mass. He rips out a chunk but it's immediately replaced and healed. Your muffled breaths can still be heard from under, he doesn't leave you. He won't leave you to die in the arms of the thing that took you from him.

Claws cutting and tearing, he heaves, breath stuck in his lungs. Yanking his helmet off, you see his face from the last pinprick of light. You wish there was a smile on his face instead of the desperation and fear. Still, you wished for home and you got it.

He pleads, and he calls for you, and his face is the last thing you saw before you fell into the suffocating depths.

The bridge collapses from under his feet, and he falls with you, holding onto you, plunging into the icy tides below. In the water, venom dissolves into nothingness, and he could finally hold you again as he joins you on the other side.

[jumpscaregoose]

every day I wake up and hope flowers is successful enough for red crimson movie to exist. every day I lie to myself

[chalkrub]

attack for @plaiesancier !

[triglycercule]

wahhh wahhh triglycercule post more NON jk fashion au related content i whisper as i post this. double post today because i genuinely love jk!dream and also if i dont post the dreamtale twins together i will actually die! you might consider her crazy way of somehow getting into trouble a form of bad luck but i see it as more of a being too pure for the world meeting a world that's not all that great. jk!dream lives up to her name she is a idyllic dream

valedictorian. practically a million extra curriculars. she can sing she can dance she can cook she can do advanced math she can fix a car jk!dream is everything jk!nightmare isn't (a loser). the types of trouble she gets into though aren't manmade (like some guy trying to rob her) but instead are naturally occurring. like one day the dreamtale household washing machine explodes because dream used it and coincidentally it was because it was faulty or something like that. really really crazy coincidences

nightmare is a fighting force in keeping her little sister alive i swear to god. she has to monitor dream a lot and when she can't she gets one of the mtt to do it for her. because if she doesn't there is bound to be something that hurts her. and because jk!nightmare is an absolute fucking loser who's stupid she came up with the genius idea of roleplaying a bigger issue than the one that dream's about to encounter (because then she gets to keep her safe and also feed into her pretend villian persona). like for example with the washing machine thing earlier nightmare would probably distract dream with some sort of evil monologue and then put her own load in the washer before she could. that way it won't FUCKING EXPLODE (comments from currently existing jk fashion au sanses :3)

"ah, my younger kin, dream. quite an enigma she is. on one hand, she's the epitome of perfection. even i can admit that, for she's loved by our school, family, and i. but of course, like all aside from i, she has her faults."

"for example, last week, our bloodline was strolling around the kingdom on the search for a new mirror of truth, as the one in our castle bathhouse had shattered. how did that happen? uh, i might've maybe... i shall maintain secrecy."

"returning to the point, dearest dream had almost lost herself in the shopping district, claiming she had seen a lost puppy in a mirror that she wanted to help. a chivalrous reason indeed, but my, dream can be quite... foolish sometimes. nevertheless, blood is thicker than water, and our bond has never been closer."

they still love eachother in this universe because there was no corruption thing. also nightmare's bullies were just other elementary school kids in this au so it wasn't like fully grown adults vs a 6 year old at least. she's recovered from it (somewhat) and doesn't blame dream. dream's too perfect for anybody to hate her. dream supports nightmare's delusion and nightmare keeps her alive. equivalent exchange (dream has no idea nm is doing this. ok now the mtt‼️

"oh. my. god. dream? like, dream dream? she's literally my idol, i love her so much! i'm the 7th member of her fanclub out of like, the entire school, which is like 300-ish students! she's cute, and pretty, and she gets this a lot, but her voice is literally like an angel's~ i've never heard what a hymn sounds like, but it probably sounds like dream's voice. and no matter how much i search up online, i can never find any dirt on her too! she's got a perfect online footprint! huh? why was i searching dream up? eh... haha... let's move on~"

"dream? she's really cool. there's a reason she's part of the star students at this school, along with swap and ink. nobody really knows what it takes for someone to become a "star student" though. none of the students know, none of the teachers either. apparently it's a title given to a student specifically from the principal? still, dream probably deserves it though. she's good enough to win a nobel prize. one day she's gonna cure cancer or something."

"oh, dream? that girl with the angel halo crown thing? yeah, i know her. she volunteers at the dog park i bring my dog to, the bakery i go to get snacks, the local art museum, the ice cream shop during summers, nightmare's gang, the... car dealership? wait, hold on. how many volunteer opportunities is this girl doing? is she not getting paid? that has to be illegal. or at least some form of monster rights violation..."

both of the jk!au dreamtale twins are soooo silly i love them. the more and more i elaborate on jk fashion au the more i realize that this is just turning into sans aus but anime tropes but its okay i like it its funny. jk fashion au was always meant to be silly and slice of life and fluffy anyways. anyways i love her i'm literally her number one fan. i mean i AM the principal of this school aftersll,,,,,, this really was our,,, jk fahsion au. says dream at the end of the au (there is no end because this au has no lore what am i talking about

[poisonouspastels]

I need to talk about Minecraft AU for a sec and how the difference between our world and their world makes for some of the most humorous but also interesting differences in how people act about certain subjects.

Like the trans thing right. Steve and Rana are both trans I've talked about that before. And neither of them are on hormone replacement or anything (there is an in universe explanation as to why Steve has a beard though I promise I can talk about that if anyone wants) but like that's fine bc it literally Doesn't Matter to them or anyone else. Like as spawned players they already don't have any pre-existing gender roles or ideas of what something "should" be so gender and presentation is what they make of it and there's no real solid idea in anyone's mind about how a "boy" or "girl" behaves or looks like. These are labels that exist but they barely mean anything. It also helps that any preexisting culture that WOULD have ideas of this was almost entirely destroyed like 5000 years ago (thanks Groda) so it matters even less than it already did.

And its funny bc the only two people alive from that era, White Eyes and Groda also just don't care. Groda maybe asks why Rana's voice sounds deeper once and nearly gets torn apart by Alex bc of it (Rana isn't offended or anything she just has a defensive girlfriend), bc she doesn't really understand because she never experienced anything like this first hand but very quickly comes to understand it and accept it. And on the other hand White Eyes is just like "I've seen weirder things than this" which yeah. Yeah honestly I think the person who was previously one with the undead would not care about gender in the grand scheme of things.

And then u have Kai which I've joked before that they may as well have been spawned in nonbinary. They rlly just said "I'm not really anything" and everyone was like yeah makes sense I vibe with it. Good for u.

Steve and Rana are both fairly open about having been the opposite genders previously (because that's how they view their experiences and that's valid!) and don't really shy away from the subject but also never really have much reason to talk about it since there's rarely a need to. In the modern day pretty much everyone who met them had met them post-transition. Even Alex had met them just before Steve started growing in his beard. The only people who ever knew them as Adam and Eve were Efe and Sunny but they never really thought it was weird or anything. Like the weirdest part to them was Steve saying he got his epiphany from seeing some guy in the distance on a foggy day who looked vaguely like him but that's its own subject manner that they aren't going to pry on.

Also Steve did DIY top "surgery" previously with a sword but we aren't going to talk about how messy that was for everyone involved.

[keeps-ache]

there are a couple changes i would make to the keyboard if i could:

wiggly exclamation mark

bleeding heart emoji

varying snake emojis (more poses would be fun)

question mark with a little heart for the dot bc, well,

more explosions

and that is all thank you

[deva-arts]

DEVA...

THAT DOESN'T COUNT.

dANG IT-

...

...

Nate.

He's the most interesting scrunkly to me atm.

[vamptastic]

i think my constant seething rage is honestly very reasonable. i literally live in florida.

[lord-squiggletits]

Even though Pharma got a random cameo in one of the TFA side books (which means nothing to me because I don't care about supplementary material and anything that isn't shown in the main canon material, aka the show, is basically just paying for useless trivia that has no bearing on the main story), I kind of doubt he'll ever show up for any other stories in the future, and even if he does I'm not sure exactly how they'll play him.

I mean, Pharma in MTMTE got the reputation of "token evil Autobot" + "mad doctor who's a crazy murderer", and the general trend of TF media is that the character's first appearance in the franchise informs the way they're characterized in future continuities (for the most part). So I imagine that any future appearances of Pharma would just stick with the "mad doctor" characterization, and whether that characterization is interesting or not depends on the rest of the continuity's story. IDW1 had Pharma as a tertiary character whose days of being a normal good guy were shown in flashbacks, and his descent into madness was mainly offscreen/implied in exposition dumps, which was pretty good because it allows for a lot of theorizing and interpretations of his character. But considering how Pharma is otherwise a pretty obscure character, I think the odds are low that he 1. ever shows up in a meaningful story capacity again, and even if he does, 2. he'll probably inherit the "evil Autobot" characterization and not much else precisely BECAUSE that's the main standout feature of his character, and as an obscure character he would need to be "branded" in a way that puts his most stand-out features first.

[puppyeared]

Man it would be so freaking cool if it turned out Caleb had some involvement with the portal door

[vagueiish]

anyone else have an issue where seeing too much of other people’s ocs (and the creations involving/depicting them and how others respond to said characters) make you wanna give up fucking around with your own characters? no? just me?

[beeapocalypse]

need to do smth w the idea of iterations of grisha displaced in space and time post devouring the unicorns young attempting to kill grisha throughout their life and Other grishas killing those ones in order to assure their life is carried out properly. not out of any concern of timeline fuckery or a genuine wish to live but bc that grisha NEEDS to live in order to suffer the agonies of their life and atone for the sins to be. and these frequent attacks play a big role in influencing grisha throughout their life and its just a constant spiraling case of grishas on top of grishas inadvertently guiding other grishas to make the same choices which they already hate their current self for

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

You know I just went around and picked up things that fell out of Dad's van when he was out rambling.

[letstrywritingmaybe]

So polling on tumblr was a bust and I couldn’t figure out how to make it work, but luckily ao3 didn’t let me down! True to my word, I deleted the poll since it’s not a real fic, but I got some great suggestions and I shall be working to make those a reality!

My priority is still on the Sibling verse, so I’m in the middle of writing the next chapter. But I now also have three other fics from my WIPs that I will be working to bring to life instead of just collecting dust in my drafts. I’ve titled them and gone and polished up some plot points and hopefully I can start posting at least one of them after the new year!

Point of View- Will be a series of all the DetCo characters seeing/shipping CoAi and mostly progressing to ShinShi. I’ve always wanted to write a fic where everyone sees how perfect my ship is together!

Catch My Lies- the powers verse, where Ai can lie effortlessly and everyone believes it while Conan’s is to find the truth. Their powers don’t always work on each other, which is part of the fun of this dynamic. I had this idea for CoAi week 2021? Then made a divergence of it in the year of the otp events. I’m not 100% sure if I should just pick right up from the CoAi week entries or start from scratch again, but I’ve fleshed out the rest of the plot more! It could be a long one shot but I think it’s going to be divided into a few chapters

Love Me, But Don’t Fall For Me- the fake dating CoAi fic I’ve plotted forever ago and never wrote. I literally outlined the entire fic on tumblr, but I think I’m going to change one plot point. It’s pretty much the same though, just I’m terrible at making OCs so I’m thinking of a replacement… I think this will be the longest fic, at least chapter wise

Anyways shout out to KudoMiyano, KalopsiArt, and HealingSpring on ao3. I’m thankful for the input and will try my best to make the top choices a reality! I will be reaching out and work on making these into gifts if that’s okay, and sharing my drafts before hand too <3

[bro-atz]

ripple effect

in which: you and san silently try to get the other to break first.

pair: san/afab!reader

word count: 1.8k

content: smut, san's possessive as fuck, reader wears a slutty bikini, breeding kink, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: fun fact! the other two pictures in the banner were taken by yours truly <3 and yes, i know, i'm insane /j

summer boys series: wooyoung, san, jongho

San started it.

He started it the second he brought you to a very private resort— so private that you were the only two people there. He did tell you that you would be going swimming, but you didn’t think that it would be in such a nice fucking place by the tropical beach.

San told you get changed and that he’d meet you by the pool of the resort. You took your time getting ready since you did want to doll yourself up for him. You had this really cute gold bikini set that you had been dying to try out, so once San left you alone, you got ready. You tied the bikini bottom, the strings resting all the way up on your waist, accentuating your legs. Not going to lie, you struggled slightly with the top because you kept making it too tight around your neck, and one wrong move would allow your breast to pop out. After you got completely situated, you threw on the matching sarong around your waist and quickly made your way out to where San was.

When you got out, you saw San sitting at the edge of the pool. His legs were chilling out in the water as his hands were on either side of him supporting him as he leaned back, his abs bright as fucking day. You nearly gagged when you saw his chest swell up as he took a deep breath. He smiled the second he saw you, only for that smile to immediately drop. His eyes followed you as you went to one of the lounge chairs and sat down, and they remained on you as you sat far across the pool from him.

Either of you had yet to speak. San slipped into the water and completely submerged himself before resurfacing. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, his muscles rippling. You had to bite you tongue as you watched him intentionally try to turn you on— but the joke was on him because you were turned on the second you saw him merely existing by the pool. He pressed his back against the wall of the pool and rested his arms on the edge before puffing his chest out as he stretched his back.

Your legs, which were up as you were kind of hugging your knees to your chest, extended onto the full length of the lounge chair. You watched his eyebrow twitch when you crossed your legs stretched your arms up so that you could puff your chest out.

The two of you were practically in a showdown at that point, waiting for the other to break. San thought he had you when he turned his head to the side to show off his ridiculously sharp jawline, but you had him by the balls the second you removed the sarong from your waist and started putting sunscreen on. You focused on covering every inch of your body, and you did a thorough job until you realized you had yet to get your back. You officially won when you turned around and pressed your chest into the lounge chair, the sight of your ass in the air taking the cake.

“Sweetheart, do you need help with the sunscreen?” you heard San ask in an extremely low voice.

“Yes, please, that would be so helpful.”

San grabbed the tube from you, and you waited several seconds as he coated his hands in sunscreen. Just as he was about to apply it, he realized that your bikini strings were in the way. Rather than ask you to untie them, he grazed his canines along your spine before untying the string with his teeth. You did your best to not react to what he was doing, and you nearly did when you felt the cool sunscreen on your back, his large hands kneading it into your skin.

Unfortunately, you moaned slightly when you felt his hands move to your lower back, and San was winning again. At that point, though, you had given up because every single cell of your body craved every part of him. You sighed sensually when he ran his hands along the curve of your waist, and your breathing hitched when you felt his hands go around and cup your breasts.

“You… Haa, San!” you moaned when you felt his fingers rub over your nipples.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” San teased you, his lips by your ear. “You should’ve been expecting this the second you decided to wear this bikini.”

San’s hands suddenly retreated, only for them to turn you around so that you were on your back again. You reached back and untied the string around your neck, allowing San to have complete access to your breasts. He licked a stripe up one of them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked hard, and his tongue swirled around your tit before his teeth nibbled on it. You sighed and held the back of his neck as he switched breasts. As he sucked, he placed his large hand on your stomach, his fingers making your entire body react as they tiptoed to your waist.

“San, please,” you sighed helplessly. “I need more…” 

The water from his swim shorts dripped onto your stomach as he pushed himself up and hovered above you. He ran his fingers from your ankle and up your leg as he pressed his knee between your legs. While maintaining eye contact with you, he untied one of the strings that rested on your hip. You were starting to squirm impatiently underneath him the longer he took with the insanely sensual foreplay. Luckily, San picked up on that, and after running two of his fingers over your slightly exposed crotch, he figured that he could speed things up. He quickly untied the string on the other side and bunched up as much of the fabric as he could before pulling it out from under you and letting it fall on the side, his eyes still locked on yours.

You gazed into his dark, lust filled eyes before he closed the distance between you and kissed you passionately. You held onto his neck and shoulders as the kisses somehow managed to intensify. One of his hands held your waist tightly while the other pulled his swim shorts down just enough to release his hard, throbbing cock. He sucked hard on your lower lip and tugged upwards as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds. It was when he stopped kissing you did San shove the entirety of his fat cock into you, making you choke out a cry. You dug your fingers into his skin as he bottomed out because, no matter how many times he fucked you, you would never get used to his size.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?” San asked with a soft voice in stark contrast to his intense actions just moments before.

You nodded and exhaled slowly before San started moving. There was a distance between his chest and yours as he rolled his hips into yours steadily, your body occasionally shifting upwards when he randomly thrust just a little harder into you.

“You’re lucky that no one else is here, sweetheart,” San breathed out. “Because if another man saw you in that, I would have to kill him.”

The words were so threatening, but it still made your heart flutter a little. Well, it was either the words or San’s cock diving deep inside you that made you tingle, but it was definitely him that affected you that way.

“You’re too sexy for your own good, sweetheart,” he continued. “You better dress like that only in front of me, got it?”

“Yes— Ah! Y-Yes, San,” you yelped when he suddenly snapped his waist into yours.

San smirked at you before kissing you again, his tongue entering the mix this time. You arms wrapped over his shoulders, and your nails sank into his skin when he started ramming his hips into yours. You could tell San was close because of the way his grunts started getting higher in pitch and because of his quickening pace.

“Fuck, sweetheart— Nngh! I’m gonna fill you up, and you’re going to take every last bit of me, right?”

“Mmhmm!” you responded as you bit your lower lip

Lowering himself again, San forced you to untuck your lip by pulling down on it with his own teeth.

“I want to hear you say it out loud.”

“Ye-es, San! I’ll— Angh!”

You didn’t get to finish your thought. San sat up and grabbed your waist. He slammed his hips into yours, and you felt his cock throb and twitch inside you. A long groan left his lungs as his cum spurt into you.

As his seed collected inside you, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment— you yourself were close to cumming ass well, but you didn’t get there quite yet. However, San was never one to leave you disappointed. When he pulled out, you could see that he was still pretty hard, and you only got that fleeting glance of his red, throbbing cock before he flipped you over. He pulled your ass up and stuffed his cock back inside you without warning. You cried out in both shock and pleasure when you felt his cock fill you up again.

“Your pussy was made for my cock, sweetheart,” San commented as he grabbed your ass. “It’s swallowing me so fucking perfectly— this pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

You knew that San wanted a response from you, but he was fucking you so senseless that the only thing you knew how to do was moan and cry.

San groped your ass before smacking it up. You whimpered every time he smacked your ass, the sting making you feel so much more pleasure. He then moved his hands to your waist and leaned over you, his cushy chest pressing into your shoulder blades, letting him leave wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. The change in his angle was enough for him to rub against your G-spot ad hit your cervix perfectly to the point where white filled your vision at a record rate.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, sweetheart. Are you gonna cum?”

You nodded weakly before moaning loudly— San’s cock rammed into you so perfectly that your entire being reacted. You cunt fluttered wildly as your arousal leaked out and down your leg. You desperately wanted to squirt properly, but San was still fucking you wildly. He only gave you that chance after he shoved his cock deep inside you one final time before pulling out completely. Your legs shook as you squirted onto the lounge chair and the man behind you, a long, wavering cry leaving the depths of your soul.

After you finished cumming entirely, your upper body practically collapsed onto the chair, your ass still up in the air. You heard San tsk as he ran two of his fingers along your inner thigh.

“Look at me leaking out of you,” he sighed. “I don’t think we’re done here, sweetheart.”

“W-What?”

“We’re not done until you keep every last bit of me inside you.” 

networks: @atzhouse @blossomnet @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet

@illusionnet @ksmutsociety @wonderlandnet

taglist:

@k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @hwallazia @yunhoszn

@nebulousbookshelf @starryriize @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @minkilicious

@sunshineangel-reads @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa

@frobin4ever @sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans

@hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @bsehindu

@dinossaurz @woomyteez @isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn

@khjoongie98 @jaerisdiction @ninoshome1 @aaa-sia @tiredlittlevirgo

@preciouswoozi @woohwababes @wmewtew @yuyusgirl @exololyunho

@everythingboutkpop @bath1lda @bitejoongie @jen176pink @sousydive

@yyaurii @ateez-atiny380 @arabelleum @seeoonghwaa @oddracha

@wonuwrites @wyrated @flwrshwa @wooyoungqueen @luvt0kki

@oreoqueen @kiki277 @bakarilennox

apply for the permanent taglist here!

[nouearth]

red right hand.

pairing. henry cavill x male reader.

word count. 7.3k.

summary. if there was one thing to give your dad credit for (other than helping create your very existence), it was that he has an insanely hot best friend. it was a universal admiration your neighborhood shared with one another. though, how many actively feasted upon their fantasies regarding that hunk of a man? probably only you, because mr. cavill was more than a crush, he was an addiction. and on one summer day, mr. cavill realized that so were you.

content warning. college!reader, dad's best friend!henry, neighbor!henry, age gap, blowjob (r!giving), degrading, throat-fucking, choking, gagging, spitting, kissing, humiliation, body and muscle worship, rough-play, size difference, dirty talk, verbal, praising, size kink.

The warm wind fanned the sweat off your forehead when you slid your window open. The ledge stained your fingers with particles of dust. Grimacing at the fuzz and simultaneous stickiness, it also provoked a storm of laziness as steel reminders from your dad got caught up in the commotion: CLEAN THE HOUSE.

CAR MAINTENANCE.

STOP ORDERING TAKE-OUT AND COOK.

SORT THE ATTIC.

TIDY GARAGE.

CHECK STOVE IGNITIONS BEFORE LEAVING THE HOUSE.

LOCK THE DOORS.

Ya-dah, ya-dah…

Honestly, how could you check-off any of these tasks with this heatwave currently going on? You were sweating bullets, been sweating enough to bathe in your own salt for days now—which you technically were already doing. It was summer, the long-awaited season after the agony of allergies. A temporary relief to your studies as well, until the humidity hit you like a truck and made you realize that living back in a dorm wasn’t so bad. 

At least the building had a functional air-conditioner. 

“Uh-huh, yep.” Your dad’s voice was going in one ear and out the other as you rummaged through your cabinets for a snack. Cereal; stale. Canned meat; too heavy. Potato chips; not heavy enough. “Dad, you know you’ve gone on business trips before, right? This isn’t the first time I’ve been alone.”

“I know, but I’m just making sure. It’s a new house, and I’ve been watching these true crime documentaries about men leaving clubs and—“

“Well, the first mistake was going to a sketchy club in the first place…” You muttered, peering into the fridge, and then lingering, because refrigerator air has never felt so cooling against your skin. You duck your head to puzzle yourself into the cold box, dumbfounded that the heat had gotten you irritated enough to claim a bag of deli meat as your bunkmate for the time being. The sound of your dad’s frustrated sigh on the other line curled your frown into a smile, and you laughed, “I’m a big boy. Stop worrying, and go enjoy—Ow!“ You bumped your head against the door on your way out.

“How can I not worry when you just referred to yourself as a ‘big boy?’ Not even a man?!” You never realized how theatric the man was. It was like his presence never left the house, exaggerated hand movements and all wafting the smell of his homemade meals whenever he would scold you in his favorite place: the kitchen. You smiled at the fond memories.

“Good point—“ Though they were made at your old house, you were sure that once he’d returned, your dad wouldn’t be opposed to creating new memories of scolding your ass off on whatever trouble you’d get into. If you do, that is. You’ve grown since then, finding yourself too tired to socialize.

“Remember, spare key’s in the birdhouse. There’s a compartment at the side of it. Hopefully birds haven’t evolved enough to pick it open.”

“If they have, they’d be picking at our locks right now to kidnap me and probably feast on my body.” Luckily, the fridge was stocked before your dad had left. You crucified him for being overly-prepared at times, but for this month, it was an exception. You picked at a slice of deli meat and cheese, and stuffed it down your mouth.

“Not funny, (M/N).”

“I’m kidding, Dad. Lighten up! I know you’re nervous about presenting, but they invited you to talk to an audience for a reason. They like you. Just be yourself, and remember not to speak so fast. Have some water on standby too.” And speaking of the devil, you gulped down a glass of iced water to cool down your body as your dad chuckled in your ear.

“I know, I know, thanks.” A muffled sound on the other end filled the silence, sounds of people passing and cars honking passing through your ear. “Alright, my ride’s here. I’ll call as soon as I get to the hotel, okay? You better answer—Oh! I forgot to tell you! Henry’s coming over later to look at the car.”

“Henry—Oh, Mr. Cavill? He’s in the neighborhood?” The name rattled a familiar feeling inside of your stomach. Something rather warm, suddenly ravenous when you thought about the last time you saw him.

“Actually, he was the one that told me about this house! He lives down the street. But tool’s in the garage if he asks for them, okay?” 

“Y-yeah, okay. Got it.” You hadn’t seen him many times. Only when you’d come home from semester breaks, yet the mere mention of his name had you flustered as if he was a long-lost friend or something. 

“Okay, gotta go. Love you, and remember, lock your doors! Bye!”

“I will! Bye…” Your phone blinked back to your previous app after ending the call.

You knew he was your dad’s best friend; a divorced father and a bachelor unsurprisngly made a match in heaven.

He was someone that shared your father’s interest in tabletop games and comic books. A replacement for yourself you thought earlier on, but he was way more knowledgeable about those interest than you ever were. You grew up on your dad’s nostalgia. For Mr. Cavill and your dad? These memories altered them who they would be in the future.

He was a friend that would help your dad out on building projects, like that birdhouse he had mentioned. He was a charming man that built the PC you currently use after hearing you complain about the previous laptop you had. And best of all, his looks were as abundant as his kindness. Standing over six feet tall, with a chiseled face that matched an equally sculpted body; he’d been a little crush since you first met him, being the only man who was capable of rendering you utterly speechless.

And in present, the only man who had the power to tighten your briefs and shorts with only a passing thought of his body; muscular and athletic in all the right places. If only your dad could somehow muster up a beach day before summer ended. Either way, the image of his bare body excited you, the blood flow immediately rushing south in agreement. Your dick kissed your shorts at the thought water cascading off his hulking body like meltwater over an ice shelf, freezing you in your place to not-so-subtly gawk.

“Jesus…” Your body couldn’t catch a break, could it? With the ramping heat and the constant sweating, your erection only added fuel to the bonfire that was the pores of your skin. Your cock pulsed madly within the constraint of your briefs, teasing yet begging to be released, to be sheathed from its slick, because it knew you had the key to its relief.

Or rather, Mr. Cavill did.

It was pathetic. You’d been at this for a year now. As much as you were unfamiliar with Mr. Cavill’s disposition, it was certainly the opposite regarding his physical appearance. Though it hadn’t exactly occur to you when this crush of yours had been tiptoeing along the lines of obsession. 

Wait, was it an obsession..? No, no, it was just a crush. 

You hadn’t done anything wrong. All you had done was browse through his social media—he did follow you, and you mutually pursued—and stalked—no—scrolled through his posts. Thank god, he was an avid poster. Pictures of his selfies, his knack for grilling, his love for his pet dogs, his pride over his geeky hobbies, his friendship with your dad and mutual buddies—all of these pieces attributed to allowing you to get to know him more as you were rotting away on campus, missing life back at home. Like clockwork, looking at his feed brought a sense of comfort, a hope that maybe you could be part of his life as well.

“God, what I’d do to ride that mustache…” You blurted out your thoughts, hyper-aware that you were alone in the house. You’d been waiting for this. You’d been surrounded by your roommates 24/7, and then once break started, your dad wanted to insert himself into your schedules as much as he could before the next semester starts. 

As much as you loved them, you needed space. A space bigger than the privacy of your own room. You deserved the whole house to yourself after enduring months of agony from overdue assignments; stress from bickering roommates that led to chaos within the dorm. You haven’t jerked off properly in months, often resorting to a quick session that comforted you on the occasions you’d have to pull multiple all-nighters to get a project done.

You needed relief.

You needed pleasure.

“Fuck,” Your eyes had been fixated on Mr. Cavill’s social media feed as you stripped yourself free of clothing. On one hand, it helped your body cool off from the heat building in the house. On the other, you felt vulnerable, like someone could walk in on you any second, and god, was that a turn-on. 

A grid of his life displayed happily before you, and your thumb scrolled aimlessly in pursuit of multiple pictures ingrained in your brain that had your cock throbbing in your palm. You laid flat on the couch, earbuds fit snug in the canals after briefly switching apps to play your favorite porn in the background of your search. Your stomach sunk deep when the man began moaning in your ears. Hot like the blistering sun outside; you can imagine Mr. Cavill breathing against you like that, as you took his cock in like the video you had playing. Your balls pulled when the man grunted, “Right there,” and you couldn’t help but pull at the ache of your cock, then at your balls to fondle at the loose stretch of skin.

“Right there,” you repeated when your thumb paused at the desired video of Mr. Cavill. Another major part of his lifestyle was working out. Strength training, cardio, marathons. You name it, Mr. Cavill did it all, exceptionally well, and the crème de la crème of it all was that he bared his torso for most of his videos. “Fuck, you’re so big… Fuck, fuck…” 

It was like watching a warrior prepare for battle. Sweat dripped off the holiest parts of his body as he pumped his muscles with heavy weights. Grunts, heavy and lewd sounds filled your ears while Mr. Cavill powered through his body’s resistance. You wondered to yourself if he could take you like that. Force you to take him with brute strength like the weights in his muscular, veiny hands. You were stroking yourself to him, every part of him, palm slick with sweat and spit. Two fingers would get the job done, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. Though, you knew deep down that it would take more than that. Three, or maybe even four, considering the hunk of a man was seemingly built from metal. The video replayed multiple times before you remembered that he had more than enough content for you to jerk off to. You were barely five minutes in, but this was already more pleasurable than whatever you had endured back at the dorms. Your cock felt pleased, spitting out dribbles of thick pre-cum that loosened the stick of your palm as donation to your generosity.

“Fuck, Henry…” You rarely referred to him by his first name. It felt unusual. You were much younger than him. Addressing someone closer to your dad’s age felt rude, like you were trying to assert your dominance despite your age difference. You were many things, but disobedient was not one of them. However, you couldn’t lie. His name felt polishing to your tongue, something that could improve the taste of dreadful meals if one were to whisper it before taking a spoonful.

His name felt like a miracle.

Your sexual appetite was nourished by the frames of Mr Cavill’s second video. He was completely unaware he was bulging, free-balling in his sweaty shorts while he pursued his vitality through jumping jacks, lunges, toe-touches—cardio galore that made his heavy cock bounce in rhythm. You could tell he was large, gifted with insane girth to the point where you could make out the shape of his cock just from him stretching. And the smell; sweat sticking on thick curly hairs on his chest, and a happy trail that seemed to promise a world of musk if you ever had an opportunity to endeavor upon your curiosities. You were practically salivating for him, saliva pooling where your tongue sank, while your cock leaked. You pumped yourself quicker and harder at the frustration that your desire to taste Mr. Cavill’s cock would remain a pipe dream.

All that left you was your imagination, and your own musk. Pulling up at your glans, you squeezed out thick loads of pre-cum before swiping it with your thumb and tasting it off with a suck. Salty, bitterly pleasant on your tongue, and satiated enough to not let your libido falter at the disappointment that it wasn’t Mr. Cavill’s pre-cum, but rather smolder.

“Oh, fuck my mouth… I need that cock, Mr. Cavill. Please—“ The frames of the third video showcased him flexing his arms and torso. His body bursted with pride, veins surging through every fiber of muscle like they were charging him and his very existence. It was veiny too, wasn’t it? His cock. Large and veiny, like how you’d like it. You would struggle fitting him inside of your mouth while his cock veins pulsed with great pleasure knowing that it was Mr. Cavill’s kink that you couldn’t take him. 

No one could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Your eyes rolled back. The slurping sounds from the porn increased by tenfold as you pumped the volume by a few decibels. Lewd, slick sounds you wished you could perform on Mr. Cavill himself violated your ear drums. Pleasure him. Thank him on your knees for being so kind to your father. For building your PC without compensation. For providing you temporarily relief while you were away on campus, and could only jerk off under the blanket. You were grateful for him. For Mr. Cavill. For his thick arms. For his veiny forearms. For his dashing good-looks. For his muscles. For his strong cock. You’d give yourself to him if you could. Worship every inch of his step, every inch of his body, and that still wouldn’t be enough to show your appreciation towards him. 

Your fist tightened. Your other hand had grown limp by now, dropping your phone to the floor by mistake, but you were too fixated on the pleasure your cock was receiving to retrieve it back. You could watch it from where you were laying, just like this, slickly twisting and pumping your cock to the sound of the porn, to the sound of Mr. Cavill grunting simultaneously as if his thick cock was being feasted on like a hungry beast. “Mr. Cavill, please—I’m going to—“

One earbud slipped from the sweat building on your body, but you were close. So fucking close to coming. And when you do, you’d come on your phone.

All over Mr Cavill’s pecs. His abs. His crotch. His face. Anywhere, as long as it was your friendly neighbor, because—

“Enjoying yourself, (M/N)?”

A voice from behind you alerted your body to jolt and whip around upon instinct to defend yourself. Naked or not, you weren’t going to die, not in the hands of a burglar.

Though, as soon as you did, you regretted it. You felt like stone. Cold, hard stone as all signs of life seemingly felt like it had been sucked dry out of your body, with your erection taking up most of the produce surprisingly as you confronted the intruder.

The six-feet, muscular, handsome, and familiar man of an intruder. 

“M-Mr. Cavill?! What—When did you—“ You were flustered. Radiant heat blooming like the season of Spring across several patches of your naked body. It also didn’t help that your porn could be heard from earbuds once you took the remaining one out, albeit a bit muffled. And your phone, it was facing the ceiling, looping the video of Mr. Cavill training over and over again. Right before him.

Your body was shaking, physically evident despite your efforts to conceal the tremors as the man stared you down, unfazed by the drama of it all. “Fuck—“ You didn’t know what to turn off first. The porn? The video of him working out? Or maybe dressing yourself should be a priority because—Mr. Cavill was still staring, blues lingering on your naked body, seemingly outlining every drop of sweat that followed the contours of your figure. There was movement that naturally caught your attention. 

It was his hand, large and muscular over the center of his shorts. Rubbing, squeezing, fondling at an evidently large mass that made you dry-swallow. You mustered up the courage to finally pause the porn, then clicked your phone off. “H-how long have you been watching?”

“Since the beginning.” He chuckled, stating matter-of-factly. “Your dad told me to come look at your car. Your garage was open. Thought you did that for me, but I guess you really just forgot about closing it considering…” He nodded towards your cock, licking his lips when it acknowledged him with a throb. “Was coming to get you, and I found you like this.”

“And you just watched?!” You sputtered out in distress, hastily dressing yourself back into your clothes, stumbling over your feet in the process. Sweat always made it more difficult to put on clothes.

“Well, I did call you for while I was coming in. You didn’t hear me over your video, and…me, I suppose.” It was smug. Amusing to him that you were in this state of embarrassment after being caught red-handed. You groaned, burying your head into your knees after sitting back down on the couch. The heat was unbearable, but to face Mr. Cavill after being caught jerking off to his videos, you were overcome with horror at the ghastly spectacle of the situation.

“Don’t tell my dad about this,” Your fingers scraped through your scalp out of frustration, but also to keep your head pressed to your knees as they interlaced around you. You refused to even spare one more glance at the man when you felt him practically hovering over you, a gentle smile riding along the coattails of his composure. “…please.”

“I won’t,” Mr. Cavill’s voice sounded clearer, closer than before. Right above you, but still, you maintained your position despite the pleasant scent of his cologne almost breaking away your focus. “Just as long as you suck me off.”

Those final words hit you like a truck. 

You were astounded, confused by the turn of the situation. It felt like a taunt, and it was treated as such because it worked. You whipped your head up upon Mr. Cavill’s demand, almost insulted because it was how guys on campus used to taunt you.

What you expected to grace your eyes with was his face; charming as ever with a mustache that was reliable in stirring immense feelings inside of you.

Instead, you were met with a face full of flesh, Mr Cavill’s heavy and large cock. It sported a strong curve, throbbing veins to prove its accelerating lust, with thick balls swinging low to entice you into a hypnotic state. If someone was to grade you upon your predictions, you’d score a perfect mark, because god damn, he was huge. Hairier than you’d expected, though just as arousing, if not more, because this was unexpected for Mr. Cavill as well. He would’ve cleaned himself a bit if he had a plan to meet you under these circumstances.

“I—You’re serious?” With the string of thick pre-cum dripping from the very slit of his head, it seemed like your question was answered. You could smell him. The musk of his pre-cum. It tingled your nostrils, enchanting you akin to what fresh pastries would’ve done for you on normal, non-libido provoking circumstances.

“Does it look like I’m kidding? Come on, I’m waiting. You didn’t even say ‘thank you’ to me in person when I built you that PC for Christmas. It’s the least you could do, right?” Without warning, he took ahold of his cock and tapped the center of your lips with it. Your orbs shook as you looked up at him, hesitant through the tremor of your lips as Mr. Cavill stared back, determined for you to accept his plea offer with some kind of answer—with your mouth preferably. “Been teasing me for so long… Think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me whenever I came over? How you kept massaging your cock under the table during dinner? Always in those shorts too… God, you were begging to be fucked with your thighs showing like that.”

“No—I-You’re my dad’s friend, I can’t—“ Your hand said otherwise with your fingers taking initiative on their own, wrapping over his large cock, right above Mr. Cavill’s fist. It was a two-hander, a fucking two-hander, yet your fingers struggled to close around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so…”

“Your dad doesn’t have to know, right? I won’t tell. You won’t either. We don’t want to hurt him, right?” One of his hands found its way to the back of your head while he took a step closer, bringing his cock closer to your face. Before you could pull away, there was true grit to the palm of Mr Cavill’s hand as he applied pressure to the back of your head, pressing your cheek flush to the underside of his cock. “Look at you, you don’t have the heart to say no, do you? You’re obsessed with my cock, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Cavill…” You were under his control. Locks of your hair bundled under a grip while he ground his cock against your supple skin, making you smell him; his musky cock, the sweat buried in the deep hairs of his pubic area. It was a glorious scene that returned your cock back to its original state of arousal by tenfold. 

“You’re going to be a good boy and suck my cock off, right?” Almost in your mouth. You parted your lips open to trap his cock into your mouth with the way he maneuvered your head like a rag doll, a brute strength your nape now, pulling and pushing your head as his cock rubbed against your face, but Mr. Cavill pulled at the last minute, right when you were one lick away from tasting meaty flesh. “Close your mouth. You will open your mouth when I tell you so.”

“I—I—Yes, please...” You were pathetic. He held you still, head tilted upwards to face the ceiling and his towering body while his cock and balls laid over your face like a table runner, a perfect heater to warm his meat. A t-shirt remained on his body, and that was a true testament to his appeal, being able to get you off like this half-naked. You reached down, back to fondling at your sore cock, at the blue balls you’d given yourself earlier, sniffing, inhaling the heavy delightful scent of his sweaty cock. Guess his house was having air-conditioning difficulties too.

“I can use your mouth however I want?” He dragged his cock over your face, the head leaking out pre-cum in midst of its journey to introducing itself to every one of your facial features, saving your lips for last. 

“Yes,” You gulped at his rousing speech, breathing in the drying musky pre-cum on the perimeter of your skin. “Please fuck my mouth, please—“

“If you’re good, then this can be a regular occurrence, yeah?” You slipped your shorts and briefs off again, jerking yourself off to simply the teasing taunt of his cock, tapping at your skin, brushing over your eyelids, pushing up against your nose. You felt humiliated. You’d been marked by Mr. Cavill, pathetically as it only took his huge cock to make you submit to him. “You’d like that? Sucking your dad’s best friend off?”

“F-fuck, yes…” His cock was a wand to your body. Every time Mr. Cavill was seemingly about to push into your mouth, you willingly opened it to no avail, even if it was obvious that he’d pull away. You could only get off on his scent for so long. He’d draw your tongue out when he squeezed pre-cum out the tip of his cock, right above your pink flesh. It would sink, drip, slowly like syrup, in thick strings, until it wasn’t anymore with the sudden obstruction of Mr. Cavill’s finger swooping in to nick the sticky web, and letting it waste away on the carpet. “Please, Mr. Cavill… I-I’ll be good…”

It was amusing to him, watching you desperately try to taste and watch him in any way you can, to the point of going cross-eyed as he would center his cock in your vision. He waved his cock like a flag as if he had conquered you. Humiliated you with several heavy slaps to your face, thick smacks that you took in whimpering grace because Mr. Cavill had stolen the resources to your insanity.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Mr. Cavill didn’t waste a single second for you to prepare yourself. The pressure on your nape steeled, bruising to make you open your mouth and whimper, and maybe that was the point, because he seized the opportunity to charge his cock inside of your mouth without warning, making you gag on your own desperation. It was a forewarning. A brief prologue on how you should take his cock as he quickly pulled himself out to properly prepare yourself. In the meantime, he slapped your cheek multiple times with the spit you had already layered him with, cooing at how incredible hard and big he was against your dazed face.

“Fuck, your mouth is so warm. That’s it, you can take it. Good boy.” Saliva spilled out of your mouth like a popped water balloon when he pushed himself inside of your mouth again. You couldn’t control it. You couldn’t control what Mr. Cavill had stripped away from you with the strength he had on your neck. Not to mention, the mass of flesh gagging you into oblivion, leaving you completely incapable of stopping him, as if you wanted him to. “Come on, use your hands too. Don’t be lazy.”

“Mm-mmf…” A compliance that was muffled by a slur of slick sounds, but Mr. Cavill knew what you meant. Amusement played on the corner of his lips as you struggled to fit a hand around the base of his sticky cock, sloppily stroking what was left neglected by your mouth, or rather your inability to take in. You suckled on the head of his cock, plump and heavy on your tongue as it throbbed with every lick you provided him. Stroking its slit with the tip of your tongue, you then dug and slobbered over the salty taste of his pre-cum. “So big… Just like I’d imagined.”

You pulled away to marvel at the size of his cock, taking your time to lube his cock with your spit from tip to shaft before your fist flushed to his pelvis to slap his meaty cock on the pouch of your tongue, lewdly flinging your spit in the air. It was your favorite move, often reliable in coercing a reaction out of the men you’d sucked off previously. The roll of his eyes, the flex of his muscles, the grunt from his gut; you slobbered all over his cock, worshipping every inch with your mouth, polishing the cock knob clean with your tongue and stroking what you couldn’t with two deft hands. Mr. Cavill was no different, he was a man with needs like you, with needs like the rest of the men you’d given head to, and you exploited the hell out of it. You loved making them feel in power, making them feel like you were worth time out of their day, despite their original pleas to use your mouth.

He briefly pulled back to rest a kiss on your lips, one that you’d treasure for the rest of your life. Not only was it because it was your first kiss was him, but because of how delicate he was with you. Warm and inviting like he usually was, his large hands cupped at the end of your jaw, holding you as if you were made of porcelain. “Making me so proud right now, fuck. Take in more of my cock, would you? I like it when you gag.”

“Mm-hmm…” They always do. You mumbled against his lips, no longer needing his guidance to finish what you’d started. Your eyes were glued to Mr. Cavill, aroused by the look he was giving you. A famished stare that demanded to be satiated, by means of sheer persistence as you knew it was going to be difficult to down him with your throat.

Mr. Cavill drove a hand into your hair, cuffing the strands to keep you still, to keep you from pulling away, to dominate you. He watched you without an ounce of kindness, muscles flexing, cock and balls hanging obscenely as you found a better position on your knees with a throw pillow guarding you from bruising. “Want you to throat-fuck me, Mr. Cavill.”

“Fuck, who knew you had such a mouth on you…” He sturdied his stance, spreading his strong legs while manhandling your head between them. You licked a stripe over his balls, then the underside of his cock until your tongue reached the scorching skin of his precum-slicked tip. Approaching the end of the journey, your mouth opened wide to welcome Mr. Cavill back into your mouth, and like tugging on a loose knot, you drew out moans from within his gut, his body loosening in turn of your hot mouth. “Fuck, just like that…”

With a thundering heart, and a building pleasure so morbidly big, you sunk and lowered your head lower, taking in Mr. Cavill’s horse-cock like a fleshlight. Crimson rose to your cheeks, to your neck, as you strained to maintain him inside of your mouth. He was too big. You’ve utilized all the tactics you’ve learned on campus, on a few buddies, on your roommates. Breathe through your nose, relax your tongue and jaw, let your saliva drip out. Yet you’d barely taken a few inches more than you had done prior before a couple of gags alerted you to take a breather. Your head pulled back, but it was met with violent opposition as Mr. Cavill brought your head back down to further shove himself down your throat.

“Mmm—gggrgh!” Your body jolted in defense, stiffening your body into an upright position when you couldn’t refrain from gagging on his cock. Your hands braced on his strong thighs for balance, squeezing at the muscly flesh of skin to distract yourself from the uncomfortable stretch your mouth was receiving.

“Fuck, yeah. Fuck, fuck, just like that. You’re taking it like a good boy.” You were making him proud, so fucking proud. You coughed, gagging, almost choked on your own spit, but the stuffing of Mr. Cavill’s large cock simultaneously emptied your mouth of saliva as it all came flooding down your mouth in lewd webs. “Shit, look at that. I’m making your mouth water, aren’t I? Fuck, what a waste.”

He yanked your head back, pulling him out of your throat, and you had never felt such relief. Breathing, exhaling and inhaling deep to compensate for the prediction that Mr. Cavill wasn’t going to let you spare a second of abandoning his cock like that. Your eyes watered, reddened from straining your muscles to make him fit inside of your mouth. You knew there was a shift in the room when you looked up at him like that, glossy in the eyes, tremors involuntarily making your knees unsteady, coughing as you held onto his thighs. He towered over you, you were beneath him, beneath the ravenous gaze he simultaneously terrified and seduced you with. You couldn’t complain now. You did your job. You made him feel powerful like you’d wanted. Dominating, as his cock leaked in your spit, and spit your saliva back onto your face.

“You were fucking hungry for my cock, weren’t you? Look at you. You’re a bloody mess…” With one swipe, he gathered the layers of spit you had generously supplemented his cock with, and smeared it across your face. You took his humiliation with good grace, moaning at your loss of pride with every smear. It deducted the more he messily layered your face with your own spit, but as demeaning as it was, there was immense merit to the satisfaction on Mr. Cavill’s face. “Open up.”

“M-mm, ah—“ Your mouth opened with a vulgar sound. If Mr. Cavill had something to compare it to, it would be like sticking a spoon into a cup of jello, and then scooping its content out. Sweet and glorious to his ears, salty to your mouth as he bought your head forward again, and plunged his cock back down your throat, deeper, and further within the confines of your throat. You squeezed around him, eyes clenched tight while he brought your face flushed to his pelvis, the hairy bush of his public area gentle abrasive against your nose. He smelled as delectable as he tasted. A hint of spice, sweat, salt, you could lick at it if it was made into a popsicle, lap it up if it was in a bowl and you were on all fours, bowing to his feet.

Your cheeks bulged as your mouth churned internally to produce more slime to seemingly ease the slide of Mr. Cavill’s cock thrusting inside of you now. He was careless, half-bent over your head to lock you into a tight embrace while his spit-polished cock rubbed at either side of your cheeks, rut against the roof of your mouth, then thrust himself into the depth of your warm throat. You couldn’t have escaped if you had wanted to. He was too strong. Two hands unrelenting around your head while he packed his large cock deep into your mouth, pelting into your gags and whimpers with fast, sharp thrusts, the sound of his wet dick choking you mutually turning you and Mr. Cavill on. You want to quit, yet he was choking you too good. Water streamed down your cheeks. Whether it was your own spit, sweat, or tears, you couldn’t comprehend it because Mr. Cavill was uncompromising, refusing to yield for your comfort.

You were fucking grateful. That was what had been missing from your college experience. A man. Someone taking charge for once. Someone utilizing you like the whore you made yourself out to be. Mr. Cavill saw right through you, through your taunts from several breaks ago, and he was fucking furious for making him wait.

“Shit, I’m close,” Fucking your mouth furiously. You could get off like this. Fuck, no. You were getting off to this. Fucking your cock with your fist, doing your best to match the pace of Mr. Cavill’s hips. You wanted to look up, to watch his face morph from admiration to animalistic desire as he utilized your throat at his own disposal.

You blinked away your tears, even if they had stung, and gawked at how captivating Mr. Cavill was for being selfish, thrusting into your mouth with one hand keeping your face free of your hair from obstructing his view. A frown permanently framed his mustache, and his dark brows furrowed at the approaching climax. He wasn’t looking at you. Rather, he was scrutinizing your wet mouth as it was jam-packed with his cock. How could a mouth look so pretty while doing something absolutely obscene? How could a throat feel so tight, so addictive, even after piping his cock down its drain several times? How could you let him treat you like this, a complete stranger, completely violate and humiliate you on your knees, like a broken doll whose purpose was to fulfill a man’s deepest desires? Maybe he needed to have a talk with your father. Talk about how broken you were, and that you needed fixing. Spend a nights with him at his house, and he would help you rewire your brain. He’d fix you. Fix you with his cock. With his lips. With his hands. With his body. Your eyes rolled back at the thought, fisting your cock faster, twisting to his heavy grunts as he was nearing closer and closer to the edge of his insanity.

“Mfghm!” Your throat felt raw, the subtlest whimper scratching at your throat like claws on chalkboard. But you persisted, pumping your shaft vigorously, your ears lapping up Mr. Cavill’s constant appraisal for your performance. Good boy. That’s it. You’re taking my cock like how I want it. You want your reward? Fuck, sloppier. Spit on it. Spit on my dick. I like it sloppy. 

Sweat pebbled every inch of your skin. You couldn’t take it. It was coming. Your stomach sank and steeled upon the sudden rise of fulfillment, and you quickly released your grip after a final stroke before coming into the air. Thick ropes catapulted upwards, your cock throbbing with every pulse, and your balls emptying itself more and more with a bounce, a twitch, and a jolt. “F-fuck, ugh…”

“Fuck, yeah. Look at all of that cum. Fuck. You came that much just from my cock, look at that…“ Your body spasmed as the carpet soaked up your semen. His voice gruff yet gentle at the same time, making your cock twitch once more before softening. 

“Come on, not done yet. Suck me off.” He spat out, tugging your head forward after a quick breather.

Something in you clicked, and you began sucking his cock off like it was your job. Twisting, stroking at the slick shaft while nipping at the head while you caught up to your breath. Suddenly saltier on your tongue as some of your cum had landed on your hand before it was smeared across Mr. Cavill’s dick. You’ve never tasted yourself before, but it was a found contentment you didn’t expect to turn you on.

Then, you took one last breath, cleared your throat, and charged forward. Long, thick inches slid into your throat once more, and you’d hold yourself there upon his final warning, mouth agape, lips pressed into the fur of his pubic hair. Your tongue flattened at the underside of his veiny cock, and your nails dug into the back of his thighs as you felt a thick warmth rush down and coat the inside of your throat. His cock throbbed, and Mr. Cavill’s grunts emptied from his gut with every spill. You could feel every heavy pulse as Mr. Cavill came down your throat in heavy, creamy spurts. You didn’t want to swallow. Not yet. You wanted to savor him. Savor the taste of his cum. You’d pined for it for so long, for all you could know, this could be your last opportunity to properly taste him. Slowly, but surely, his loads rose and pooled in the back of your throat upon barricading it with a tighten of your trachea. The rest of his spurts emptied on your tongue as he pulled himself out, and milked himself to completion. 

“Don’t swallow yet.”

You nodded, panting, awaiting for his nuts to be emptied as he flung his cock a few times, hurling drips of cum and your spit over your tongue and face. When he was seemingly emptied out, his gaze fixated on his cum pooled in the back of your throat; semi-translucent and filthily swimming with your own spit, and then Mr. Cavill’s own saliva, as he then spat into your crowded mouth. 

“Now swallow.”

You whimpered at the vulgarity of this affair, yet you were highly-aroused by this shame you were feeling. Mr. Cavill’s gaze stilled, anticipating with calm amusement while petting at your cheek. With one clean gulp, you downed your guilt, scrunching your nose when the salty taste of his spunk throttled your tastebuds, and sighed in satisfaction.

“Does your throat hurt?” He was on his haunches, carefully examining your throat as if he had his hand around you from the outside. It was a surprising return to his normal self, at least, the man that you knew as your dad’s best friend. Caring and patient, as he tended to your neck with apologetic kisses, and a gentle massage around your nape, where he must’ve gripped too hard upon your jolted reaction.

“A little… Didn’t take you were one to be rough like that.” Your knees gave out, letting yourself fall back onto your butt knowing that the couch would catch your position.

“Not usually, no… You just… happen to rile me up for some reason.” He was smiling, joining you on the floor, and nuzzling his furry mustache into the crook of your neck as if he wasn’t choking you with his cock a few minutes ago. It was unusual, yet charming. “Seriously, don’t tell your dad, okay?” He whispered into your ear before turning your cheek to look deep in his eyes.

A meaningful stare, a beat of silence, before you spoke, “Only if you promise me something.”

“What’s that?” Mr. Cavill pressed a kiss to your swollen lips, another apology for stretching your mouth without much warning.

“You really meant it that this would be a regular thing if I did a good job?” Mr. Cavill scoffed at first. It was almost embarrassing. Were you being naive? Was this too good to be true? Your cheeks flushed red, and you solemnly casted your gaze downwards, defeated because that was that it felt like. The sound of rejection always came with a scoff, everyone knew that. 

“Well, it was going to be a regular thing even if you had accidentally bit my dick off.” He suddenly laughed at how susceptible you were by the smallest actions, and at this moment, you were surprised that maybe this crush wasn’t so one-sided after all. He teased at your frown, kissing the corner of your mouth until it was a smile, and then prodding at your sides when you resisted. “Come on, you couldn’t possibly think this was a one-time thing.” 

“Tempting…” You snuck a head in between his thighs, reaching for a certain tool that had brought in so much pleasure and pain to your body. “I don’t know… we don’t talk much. I don’t know you that well.” 

“Don’t.” Mr. Cavill teasingly warned, stopping you by taking ahold of your wrist. Though, one step too late, as you already cupped his flaccid cock, tormenting his balls with a few tugs and squeeze of your palm as an act of revenge for your throat. “Well… then let’s get to know each other. No problem doing that, right?”

“Mm-mm, guess not.” Pursing your lips, you nodded, feeling placated by his words.

He sighed into your mouth, kissing you again, licking at the inside of your mouth, tasting your tongue and then your cheek, to soothe his selfish stain on your body with the work of his mouth. 

“First, I want to hear you say ‘thank you’ for building that PC of yours before I promise you anything.”

“Jesus, we’re still on this?”

“Yes! Do you know how long that took me?”

“I didn’t ask you to build me one—“

“God, you’re an ungrateful brat.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!