#august walker au

[fallenangelkitten]

Obedience

Synopsis: After finally getting the object of Professor Walker’s desires, he has her warm him under his desk.

Warnings: au August Walker, Professor!August, oral, cock warming, exhibition/public, StudentxProfessor, choking, presumed age gap, August’s pov

Note: This is part two to Examination and I highly recommend reading it first!!

The sounds of keys clicking echoed throughout the auditorium. It was the day of a major exam; one that took up a large percentage of my students' final grade for my class. I expected excellence out of them. Nothing less than perfection.

A soft slurp filled my ears.

That wouldn’t do.

I gave a quick tug on the belt in my left fist, pulling her forward and forcing even more of my cock past her lush lips.

My beautiful little angel.

Her bright eyes held mine as I cocked a brow. I felt myself twitch against the back of her throat. The feel of her was euphoric, but she had one job. One measly little task.

After months of watching her, cumming to the images of her in my brain, I finally had her. She was still so innocent. I was going to claim that- in every way. Starting with putting her beneath my desk, my dick down her throat and belt squeezing against her neck.

She was to only take me deep and keep still. Couldn’t have an auditorium full of hundreds of students hearing the suction of her cheeks or the dirty little moans she makes when my tip continually hits the back of her throat. She had to follow my orders.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as I stroked her hair. She was doing so well for me. I stroked her cheek and brought my thumb down to the side of her mouth, catching the drool that inevitably began to pool. As discreetly as I could, I brought my thumb to my lips, savoring the sweet taste of her.

I resumed grading the exams that had already been submitted, bringing my attention back up to my students. All of their heads were down, none the wiser. I couldn’t help the smirk of satisfaction I wore.

Her tongue gently moved on the underside of my cock, causing me to halt and take in a sharp breath. I looked down to see her pleading eyes, head trying to pull away. I slowly pulled on the belt, bringing her lips back up my length. I needed the warmth of her mouth.

A ring of pink lipgloss stained the base, little flecks of glitter shining up at me. Fuck, she was so cute. I’d make her wear it everytime.

Be a good little girl, I mouthed to her.

I didn’t dignify her with my attention for the rest of the allotted exam period. Not a glance. Just a tight hold on the belt that pressed against her lovely throat. I looked over to the seat she usually occupied, now left empty.

Now that I had my angel, I was not letting her go.

Fuck that. And fuck the consequences.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey, regarding your Henry Cavill fics, could you write about August Walker as a husband or a father? I've never read anything related to that about August. The idea of August being this evil man but with a secret family. He's an evil antagonist and I love him like that, but soft August would be nice for a change.

hello, I do apologise for taking so long to get to this and the shortness. I hope you enjoy it either way.

summary - your married to august walker, and he finally comes home and greets you and your kids.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“Honey, I’m home!” August walks through the door tiredly. He puts his bags down and kneels, hearing little feet running toward him. August smiles, opening his arms as his daughter and son run into them. 

“Daddy!!!” They launch into his arms, wrapping their tiny arms around him. “Missed you so much!” They giggle, snuggling close to him.

“I missed you munchkins too! Were you good for mummy?” August asks, stroking their backs and hair. They nod, grinning up at him.

You smile, leaning against the wall and watching your husband with your children. “Hey, baby.” He looks up before standing, lifting your kids into his arms and walking over to you. August smiles, leaning close and placing a soft kiss on your lips. Your hand comes up and strokes his cheek, noticing the tiny cut. 

“I’ve missed you and the kids so much.” 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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[deandoesthingstome]

Holiday Angel

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 18K; Um. You’re welcome? Get some snacks and water.

@fvckinghenrycavill asked nicely, so I'm releasing this earlier than planned. Also, I think @mayloma might be waiting patiently?

Warnings: age difference (m 40′s, f 20′s; it’s your best friend’s dad for god’s sake), mention of cheating, mention of phone sex, masturbation (f), light!dom (m)/sub (f), praise kink, lingerie, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, p in v sex in various positions, protected sex, light bondage, spanking and ass play; if this doesn’t sound like something you’d be into, I won’t be offended if you scroll on by

A/N: Let's be clear: I've only seen MI:Fallout once. I really only know August from Tumblr. This is an AU, where he is not a traitorous anarchist. I also am not comfortable writing a strict dom, so please take a softer August than you may be used too. Additionally, you are a US college Junior in this story (21-ish). Don't worry, I'm not 21 either. Trust me. It's okay. This is a fantasy.

I've also been extremely self-indulgent here. You're gonna see some names you might recognize. You might wonder what college you go to, where in the US you are, or what year it is. I have taken many liberties. Please absolutely enjoy them. (And if anyone was following along with this post, you may notice a scene change. Trying out my inclusivity options.)

And I have a Spotify playlist I used for various scene inspiration if you're interested.

Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker (could anyone really tie him down?), but I do own these words and this story. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header by me. Dividers by the ever wonderful and giving @firefly-graphics.

You dropped the Blue Book for your last final on Professor Marshall's desk and skipped out of the room with glee, suppressing the urge to turn back and grab one more mental image of the grumpy professor for the road.

Christmas break was officially on!

Gemma was waiting in the loading zone outside McKinney Hall, her brand new Audi packed with both your bags and ready for the five hour road trip home.

"Bitch, what took you so long?" she teased, knowing you were actually a little early. You had breezed through the test and ran back to the dorms to meet her. She handed you your favorite iced coffee indulgence, a special treat for making it through the week.

"Let's hit it!" you shouted, turning up the volume on the Spotify playlist Gemma had primed and ready to go.

You swapped driving duties halfway, stopping at a drive-thru to grab french fries to supplement the cut fruit and snacks you packed for the trip.

"God, I am craving salt right now!" Gemma exclaimed.

"Auntie on the way?" you sympathized.

"Yesss," Gemma groaned. "And Mikey wants to meet up first thing when he flies in on Sunday. God I hope she gets lost on the way!"

"How's that been going? Long distance and all."

You were glad you and Gemma had decided NOT to room together again after the fiascos of Freshman and Sophomore year. It was only through the saving grace of several grueling classes that kept you library or study group bound for a good portion of the time that you had been able to overcome the petty drama.

It was Gemma's father who had actually suggested she move off campus alone this year and you were pleased to find a lighter class load that allowed you to spend more quality time with your childhood best friend without wanting to rip her face off every five minutes. He was so wise, that Mr. Walker.

But living apart kept you from knowing every single detail of each other's lives, so the drive was a perfect time to catch up on the minutiae.

"It's been weird, honestly. I mean, hooking up last summer was totally unexpected. I can't believe he finally let Chelsea go, but what a fucking night that was!" Gemma squealed as you tamped down your jealousy.

Everyone in high school had the hots for Mike, and you were no exception. But Gemma caught his eye at the last hurrah before heading back to college this past September and, well, girl code. Even if your tastes in men hadn’t already started changing, he was off your list forever now. Especially because he had actually seemed hellbent on making a true go of it with her, promising nightly calls that unfortunately turned weekly as the semester dragged on.

"He's seemed a little distant lately. Distracted. That missed call on Halloween really had me questioning everything he said about giving us a shot. But he's been making it up to me. The phone sex..."

"Stop. Please. I don't want to hear about him slapping one out over the phone," you laughed.

"He sounds so sexy when he comes. Long distance or otherwise."

"Ugh, god. Stop!"

"What? Like you don't love it too! What's up with you and Charlie?"

"Fuck him,” you scoffed. “D'you know, I caught him with Brigette?"

"Your roommate Brigette?"

"Yup. Right before finals started. I need to find a new living situation for next semester, stat!"

"God, why didn't you say something??? Are you okay?"

"I'm surprisingly fine. Things hadn't been so hot lately and honestly, I just don't think he's for me."

"What, missionary all the way?"

You both laughed until the tears were running.

"You should've seen his face when I asked to be on top once. It was like I killed his dog or something."

"Jesus, yeah. You're better off. You need a real man," Gemma declared.

You laughed again, but it came out with a hitch in your throat. A real man was right.

"What was that?" Gemma asked.

"What was what?" you feigned innocence, and held your breath.

"You laughed like you're hiding something. You got a thing going with one of your professors?"

You exhaled as normally as possible. Easy enough to fib your way out of this one with an opening like that.

"God, nothing's going on. But have you seen Professor Marshall? I alternately congratulate and kick myself for choosing a criminal justice major. That man is so fine to look at," you let out a whistle. "It's distracting!"

"So I've heard. Think it's too late to switch majors?"

"Why would I?"

"Not you, silly! Me," Gemma laughed.

"Your father would be so disappointed if you didn't finish your business degree. Who's he gonna leave the company to?" You winked at her, knowing she wanted nothing to do with it. She was only playing along, hoping to find a college boyfriend that would be able to keep her in the lifestyle to which she was accustomed.

You didn't think Mikey was it, but hey. Neither your circus nor your monkeys. You chatted for a bit longer before Gemma dropped into a light sleep. Girl could never last in the car as a passenger on long drives. The hum of the road put her out if she wasn’t in charge of driving.

While she slept, you thought about Mr. Walker. 

When did this infatuation start? You’d met Gemma, and by extension Mr. Walker, in 5th grade after your parents had moved across town and into a new school district. Mrs. Walker had already passed and you don’t know why Gemma’s father never remarried, but you also never saw or heard about him bringing a woman home to meet her.

In high school, when you really started paying attention to boys, you began to notice how good looking Mr. Walker was. But the most you ever hoped for was to meet a boy who would grow up to be as handsome. It wasn’t until lately, when some of your college professors had piqued your interest, that you began to fantasize about him, too. This might be a long week.

You pulled up the scenic drive and parked in front of the Walker residence around 8pm. Gemma blinked her eyes opened and stretched before getting out of the car.

"You sure it's okay I stay here until my parents get back?" you leaned over the gear shift to call out the door. "I can't believe they scheduled a whole house reflooring right before Christmas and then skipped town on me to boot."

"It's totally fine. Dad's probably gonna be busy 24-7 at the office so we'll have the run of the house. And thank God for heated pools!"

You kept your mouth shut, knowing if you showed any interest at all in why Mr. Walker would be so busy this close to the end of the year your face would probably melt off from the heat you felt every time you thought about him lately. Let alone the image of him in swim trunks in the pool. Or not in swim trunks.

Gemma leaned back into the open passenger door and you snapped out of it.

"Coming?"

You turned your whole body to open the driver door, desperate to hide from her the wanton desire you were sure adorned your face. Coming, indeed.

You both grabbed your bags from the back seat and headed up the pristine sidewalk towards the stately mid-century modern mansion Gemma called a "house". The thing could host a Hollywood premiere party and was decorated with such understated glamor you wouldn't be surprised if it would play backdrop to such a party one day. Or maybe a movie set.

The tall, rich wooden door had a thin vertical metal handle stretching from a quarter of the way down the right side, stopping a quarter of the way up from the bottom. A warm glow streamed through the large panels of windows stretching across the front of the house and exposing the elegantly decorated Christmas tree in the front living room surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture.

When Gemma finally tapped in the key code and opened the door, you stepped into the flagstone entryway and smiled at the white lights nestled in the pine garland covering the banisters of the floating stairs leading up to the master bedroom and sitting area loft, then down to the basement holding several guest rooms, the fitness and media rooms, as well as Gemma's room.

Another couple guest room suites could be found on the main entry level along with the custom gourmet kitchen and pantry, dining area, mud and laundry rooms. You knew Mr. Walker's home office was somewhere on this level as well, though you'd never dared venture down the hall to find it. He’d always made it very clear it was off limits. 

You were dying to sink into the oversized conversation couch that surrounded the sunken floor of the family room in the back of the house and stare off into the fire or out the back windows onto the deck overlooking the pool but Gemma called for you to follow her downstairs first.

"I have to get out of these clothes and then we'll DoorDash."

"No need, sweetheart." Your heart stopped as you heard the deep voice call from upstairs. "I made dinner, it's just warming in the oven. I'll get plates ready for you both, so hurry settling in."

"Dad! I thought you'd still be at the office!" Gemma exclaimed, dropping her bags and heading to the landing to give her father a hug and turning her head away to accept his kiss on the cheek.

"Well, I couldn't let you two eat cold takeout. They can never keep it warm on the drive out here." He turned, letting go of Gemma and opening his arms to you in what should have been a normal welcoming gesture if you hadn’t just been fantasizing about him half the ride home. "Good to see you again."

You suppressed a flustered squeak and pressed your lips together to stifle the drool, thankful Gemma was now behind her father and couldn't see your face as you reached for the hug. But he could. Did. For sure. Fuck.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Walker. That's very kind of you," you managed to reply while trying not to inhale his scent too deep.

"It was nothing," he let go of you and stepped back, slipping his hands slowly into the pockets of his dress slacks.

Were you staring at his muscular forearms, visible below the line of his crisp, white rolled up sleeves? God, you were. Get a fucking grip.

"We'll be right back, Dad. Thanks."

Gemma led you downstairs and sent you off to your regular overnight room down the hall from hers. You were grateful both rooms had their own bathrooms so you didn't have to pass her on your way to splash cold water on your face.

How were you going to survive these next few days before your parents came back with your aunt, uncle, and cousin for Christmas? Gemma wasn't wrong about needing a real man. You'd put up with immature boys all through high school.

Once you started college, a series of gorgeous, educated older men led your lectures over the last few years and your desires had slowly shifted. It really was no problem that Charlie had cheated on you. Perfect opportunity to drop him and move on to something more meaningful. And hopefully someone more experienced.

Has Mr. Walker been in your sights all along? No. No way. But here he was now. It wasn't right to think about him this way, but fuck he looked good tonight, that fluffy curl hanging down and that porn 'stache. What else could you call it? He even had a little of the scruff you'd really enjoyed seeing on Professor Marshall. You wondered how it would feel between your... You heaved a sigh. This can not happen.

You splashed another round of cold water and then dried your face, swapped your jeans for light cotton joggers, and then climbed the stairs to join Gemma and her dad in the dining room.

"There you are," Mr. Walker announced, standing at the head of the table with a bottle in his hand. "We thought you'd gotten lost." He flashed what felt like a knowing smirk as you froze in your tracks.

"Dad, don't be daft. She knows her way around the house." She turned to you from her seat to the right of her father and motioned to your usual guest spot across the table from her, to the left of Mr. Walker.

"Oh, let me have my fun, Gemma. Would you girls like some wine?"

"'Girls', dad? Really?"

"What would you prefer?"

"Ladies?"

Mr. Walker chuckled as he picked up the bottle and poured two glasses of wine.

"Right then. There you go, ladies."

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at you as he split his arms and passed the glasses over by the stems. You did your best to grab the bowl, but his fingers shifted up slightly as he released your glass. You heated again as they brushed the back of your hand and you took a sip immediately, trying to cover the pleasure that had to be apparent on your face.

You set the glass down and picked up your knife and fork, preparing to dig into the plate of luscious looking food in front of you. You took a bite and tried to suppress it, but a groan slipped out of your mouth as your eyes rolled closed. You closed your lips and chewed the fork-tender meat, marveling at it melting away in your mouth. When you finished swallowing, you opened your eyes to find Gemma staring at you, mouth agape.

You turned your head to find Mr. Walker's piercing blue eyes trained on yours as he leaned casually against the arm of the oversized dining chair.

"Enjoying it?"

You blinked and remembered where you were, who you were with.

"Mr. Walker, these short ribs are divine!" you declared. 

"Jesus. You act like you never ate a home-cooked meal before," Gemma snapped.

"Sorry, I just," you shook your head to clear the fog. "I mean you’ve always been a great cook, I've just never tasted anything like this."

"It's good, right?" Mr. Walker asked. “I’ve been expanding my repertoire lately.”

"It really is. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed! Gemma, I'm sorry. That was..."

You stared at her across the table with a silent plea, your eyes begging her to say something, anything. You were about to give up completely when Gemma burst into laughter, tears streaming down her face.

"You absolute freak!" she laughed and you let out a breath and laughed with her.

You kept your shit together during the rest of the dinner for the most part. But Mr. Walker poured another few glasses of wine and you could feel yourself getting tipsy.

"I think I need to head to bed, but do you need any help in the kitchen, Mr. Walker?" you asked.

"No, but thank you for the offer. Be careful down those stairs." Did he wink at you?

"See you in the morning!" Gemma called, with a lightness that told you she had well and truly forgiven the awkwardness of just an hour or so ago.

You peeled off your thin sweater and discarded your bra, leaving just a lacy camisole and your joggers. You pulled back the thick pile of covers on the bed and were about to climb in, when a wave of thirst overtook you.

You opened the bedroom door and stepped softly into the hall. The Walkers always kept a mini-fridge stocked in the media room down here. You froze as you entered the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Walker! I was just..."

"I thought you might want a bottle of water for your nightstand."

You exhaled a small laugh as you both spoke at the same time, but then froze again as you watched the way he held the bottle. Low, at his hips. One hand on the base, the other fiddling with the cap.

" Wh..where's Gemma?" you practically whispered, unable to get your voice to cooperate suddenly.

"She's finishing up the dishes. I’m sure she'll be right down," he replied with a firm, confident tone. "Did you want this?"

He gave a slight nod in the direction of his hands, where you saw he was now tipping the bottle back and forth, before finally offering it to you with an outstretched arm and hand gripped firm around the plastic form.

"Here. Take it."

You nodded and reached for the bottle, once again trying to avoid his touch. Once again finding your fingers brushing against his.

“There you go.” 

Your stomach dropped along with his voice as you realized what a terrible idea staying here was. There was no way you were going to be able to hide your desire from Gemma if her father was going to keep acting like this. Time stood still while you tried to move something, anything. Your eyes away from his. Your mouth to say thank you. Your feet to head back to your room.

"Let's get you back to bed," he stepped forward, turning you with a hand on your shoulder, then sliding that hand down your side to your waist and guiding you down the hall.

He stopped at the door frame, pressing you gently into the room. You almost moaned at the loss of his touch as you stepped out of his reach and sat on the edge of the bed, finally finding your voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Walker."

"Sweet dreams." He absolutely winked at you. Fuck.

He pulled the door shut, leaving you all alone with the crazy feelings stirring inside you. This is your best friend's father. You reclined back in the bed. Snap out of it. Girl code isn't just about boyfriends. Pulled the covers over you. Besides, he's like, twice your age, at least. Stared at the dark ceiling, while your fingers shifted under the covers and down your belly. But the way he looked at you tonight. Slipped a hand past the waistband of your pants. He wasn't just being polite. Tentatively touched the heat between your legs.

He was flirting, there was no denying it. Maybe you could have written off the hand brush at dinner, but he was showing off with the bottle of water. He wanted you to look.

You swirled a finger gently through your folds, gathering the slick and spreading it around. You thought about his mischievous grin, his tailored pants, and his strong hands before plunging two fingers deep inside, pulling them back out slowly to circle your clit.

"More," you whispered to yourself, then obliged with fingers deep again, arching your back for better positioning.

"Right there," you moaned quietly, letting the fantasy circle around your head. You pumped in and out, curling deep to find your sweet, spongy spot while you toyed with the idea of letting him touch you.

"Please," you begged, pressing a thumb against your clit, twitching with anticipation. You couldn't wait any longer.

You pulled your slick fingers from your clenching walls and focused all your attention on your clit, rubbing tenderly while you imagined his mouth on you.

"God, Mr. Walker!" you gasped, finally reaching your peak. "August," you whispered, rolling to your side and clasping the blanket close around you while you worked to slow your heart rate before drifting off to sleep.

You woke late on Saturday. It was 10 am when you looked at the clock. The floor to ceiling blackout curtains had really done their job.

You skipped the shower, even though you craved one after the long drive and your private activity the night before. Instead, you just washed your face and wrapped a thin robe around yourself before heading up to find breakfast. Gemma was sitting at the kitchen counter typing away on her phone, empty cereal bowl in front of her.

“Oh, good. You’re up! And you didn’t shower already, perfect. Grab a bite and then let’s hang in the hot tub this morning. I have a kink in my neck from that car ride I need to work out!”

You poured yourself a bowl of cereal and mug of steaming coffee and took a seat in a low back leather barstool next to Gemma. She let you eat in silence while she finished her text conversation.

“Ugh,” she exclaimed, slamming the phone on the counter. “I can’t believe Mike got put on shift at the end of finals week.”

“That why he couldn’t get home already?”

“Yeah, says it’s like a right of passage for all new bartenders at the club. Business is light, but they schedule you with a threat that you’ll lose shifts the following semester if you don’t stay to serve the stragglers and the few locals who pop in the bar once the college crowd clears out for break.”

“But he’ll be home tomorrow, right?”

“Yep. You done?” She watched for your nod. “Well get changed and let’s hit the tub.”

You headed back downstairs to your room and fished your bikini out of your luggage. After changing, you threw the curtains aside and pulled open the sliding door leading to the heated pool deck. Gemma must have had her suit on under her robe because she was already soaking by the time you stepped outside.

You slipped into the bubbling water, immediately grateful for the suggestion. The warmth began to work on your own tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding and you let out a little moan.

“I hear you on that,” Gemma stated. “I hate long car rides! They fuck with my spinal alignment.”

“Yeah, this water feels so good.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head back against the side of the tub, sinking as deep as you could without dipping your face in the water. You snapped up when you heard the splash and blinked your eyes open to see a figure skimming under the water from the far deep end of the pool to the shallow end closer to where you sat in the hot tub.

When Mr. Walker popped his head above water and hung on the side of the pool to say good morning, you were ever so grateful for the steam hiding any lust in your eyes. 

“Hey dad.” Gemma turned from her spot to face him. 

“Are you ladies getting in the pool this morning?” he smirked.

“No, I think we’re just gonna soak and then go veg in front of the TV for a bit,” she replied, hanging off the side of the hot tub.

“Alright, well, I’m headed out to check on a few sites this afternoon. Should I plan on you for dinner or have you made other arrangements?” Mr. Walker asked.

“Dinner here sounds great, dad. Thanks.”

Gemma turned back to you as you watched Mr. Walker duck back into the water and begin a series of laps. You fluttered your eyes closed so she couldn’t see how blown your pupils were, watching him first speak with Gemma and then propel his body through the water. God, he was practically naked over there. You were practically naked over here. You leaned your head back again to pray for relief.

When you both felt loose and relaxed enough, you climbed out of the hot tub, grabbing an oversized towel from the lidded basket next to the pool to dry off. You were just bending over to reach your lower legs and feet when you heard the splash of footsteps on the pool stairs.

“Right then, that’s me done. And don’t you two load up on snacks while I’m gone. You’ll spoil your appetite.”

You held your breath as he leaned next to you to grab a towel, another mysterious smirk on his face as he rose to face you. You stood and pulled your towel up your body, pretending to wipe non-existent water from your face just to avoid any further eye contact. His body was amazing and his wet swim trunks were clinging to his thighs. If Gemma caught you staring, you were done for.

When it felt safe, you lowered the towel from your face and watched him pad up the staircase leading to the main level before entering the house. Your heart was beating a million miles per hour, but luckily Gemma was already heading inside herself.

You showered finally, then donned some comfy loungewear and joined Gemma in the media room where she’d already cued up Netflix.

“Ready to binge The Witcher?” she asked. “They just released the new season last night.”

“Ugh, that man could raw-dog me all day and night!” 

“Where is the lie???!!!???” she laughed with you.

You grabbed some water from the mini-fridge, doing your best to ignore the scene from last night that popped into your head as you settled into an oversized, reclining theater seat. Gemma paused the autoplay on the third episode and asked if you wanted some lunch. You were hungry, alright. But yeah, a sandwich sounded good.

There were still at least 3 more episodes of the season left, when Mr. Walker called down around 6.

“I’m starting dinner now. It’ll be ready shortly.”

“We’ll help,” Gemma called and flipped off the tv. You both headed upstairs to the kitchen. Gemma began to set the dining table, so you sat at the kitchen counter and asked what you could do.

“You could prep that basil for me,” Mr. Walker replied. “Here, like this.”

You watched rapt, as he proceeded to show you how he wanted you to tear the leaves gently into small pieces. When he was sure you had it right, he drizzled some olive oil in a large shallow saute pan and waited for it to warm before tossing in two packages of gnocchi. 

He stirred them around for a few minutes and when he was satisfied by their state, he ladeled them out into a serving bowl. He scooped out a few and offered them over the counter to you and Gemma. You each plucked a warm, crispy potato pillow from the spoon and you sighed when you popped it in your mouth, happy that Gemma was making the same noise and you wouldn’t be called out this time. Something about food with Mr. Walker was becoming increasingly sensual to you.

He added some more olive oil and then butter to the pan, waiting for it to melt before pouring in the heirloom cherry tomatoes he’d asked you to dry off from the colander in the deep sink. He sprinkled in some salt and gave them a quick stir, then turned to the open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.

He poured three glasses set on the counter and pushed two towards you and Gemma with his fingers pressed on the base of the stems. Then he raised his own glass.

“I’m glad you’re home, sweetheart,” he tipped his glass to Gemma, and then toward you. “Both of you, of course.”

You took a small sip, watching over the rim as he did the same and you held your breath while your eyes trailed along his throat as he swallowed, hoping Gemma didn’t notice you staring. 

The three of you chatted amicably, while Mr. Walker stirred the tomatoes in the pan until they began to burst, at which point he dumped the crispy gnocchi back into the pan. You watched in awe as he lifted the heavy pan with one hand and gave it a good toss, shifting it back and forth with subtle little wrist flicks that nestled the gnocchi into the simple sauce. Then he stirred in some fresh mozzarella pearls and some of the hand-torn basil, giving you a wink of thanks, before popping the whole thing under the broiler. 

He asked Gemma to carry the salad and offered you the last pour of wine before sending you off to the dining room with a fresh bottle. Seated at your usual spot, you piled a moderate amount of the bubbly dish onto your plate, inhaling the heavenly scent of basil and tomato. Mr. Walker raised an eyebrow as he held a small bowl of shaved parmesan in your direction. When you nodded, he held the dish for you while you sprinkled the cheese over your plate, eyes watching you the whole time. The fact that he simply turned and handed the bowl to Gemma to let her hold it while she sprinkled her own cheese was not lost on you.

The white wine wasn’t affecting you the way the red had the night before, so once dinner was over, you and Gemma helped clean up and then headed downstairs to finish out the season before going to bed. 

You woke yourself up in the middle of the night with your hand down your pants again, teasing your slit while you recalled the dream. 

A rugged man with long silvery hair helped you down off his horse and led you to a blanket in a clearing near a steamy pool of water. From a small bowl, he plucked a tiny ripe tomato with his fingers and gently pressed it into your waiting mouth. You sighed as the tomato burst when you bit into it and shivered when he bent over to lick the juice running down your chin with the tip of his tongue before pressing you to your back and holding you down with a heavy kiss. You whispered his name into the night once again as you came. 

“August.”

In the morning, you peeled the covers back and stretched your way out of bed. The pleasure of the mid-slumber release you gave yourself last night still tingled in your mind. You showered and dressed, then climbed the stairs again searching for Gemma and hopefully breakfast, missing that her door was still closed. You stopped short seeing Mr. Walker alone in the kitchen.

“Good morning. Did you sleep alright?” He spoke with a suspicious tone. It was like he knew. How could he know?

You swallowed and tried to find your voice. “I did. Thank you.”

“Coffee?” He held the french press up and grabbed a mug when you nodded. “I have a frittata here, too, if you’d like some.” 

“Yes, please. Smells amazing,” you inhaled and closed your eyes slowly, remembering the meals from the last few nights as well. “You’re a really good cook, Mr. Walker.” 

“I certainly try,” he winked at you. “So what do you two have going on today?”

“I don’t know. Mike gets in this afternoon and I think Gemma wants to meet up with him.”

“Will you be joining them?”

You blinked and swallowed. How do you tell a father that his daughter is probably going to be getting railed six ways to Sunday tonight, so no, you wouldn’t be joining them?

“Uh…”

“Morning!” Gemma’s cheery greeting broke the tension and you were thankful you didn’t have to tell Mr. Walker that the reunion tonight was for Gemma alone. She gave her father a peck on the cheek and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Gemma, sweetheart, are you meeting Mike tonight?” Mr. Walker asked.

“I am!” she grinned.

“Alone?”

“Yeaahhhh…” she answered, just short of shy. “Sorry dad, I probably should have said something earlier. But you can handle a night without me, right?”

Mr. Walker stared at her for a moment and suddenly all the tension was back in the room. He had to know what was going to go on tonight. How could he not?

“I’m sure I can figure something out. But please, be safe.”

You pursed your lips and widened your eyes as you turned away from them. Was he saying what it sounded like he was saying? Did he have no illusions about the extracurricular activities of his one and only daughter? Sure, she was of age and he had to know what she got up to away from home, but still. If you had to tell your parents you were going to be skipping a night home with them to get it on with your boyfriend, you’d probably melt into the furniture.

“Always am,” Gemma exclaimed cheerfully. 

“Alright, well, I’m off. I have some work to finish up here and then a few more site visits to make today.”

“On a Sunday, dad, really?”

“We’re very close to closing this deal and it has to be done before the end of the year. I want to be sure the due diligence is correct so I don’t get stuck with a billion dollar dud when everything is said and done.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“About the things I care about, why wouldn’t I be? You two have fun today. Gemma, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Not before you get home, unless you’re not going into the office tomorrow?”

“To be determined.” He gave you both a short goodbye wave and headed out.

“Awk - ward…” you sing-songed, once you were sure he was out of range.

“Ugh, I know. He’s not stupid. I mean, he knows I’m active, but it’s still a little weird being so forthcoming with him about it.”

“Has he ever had anyone…” you asked before you could filter the thought.

“I mean, you’re here all the time when I’m home. Have you ever seen him bring a woman around? I know he’s dated over the years, but no one’s ever good enough for him. They never last so he never wants to introduce us. It’s a little sad, really.”

You nodded in agreement.

“Do you want to have a swim and sit in the hot tub for a bit again this morning? Mikey’s flight gets in at 3, so I was hoping you and I could head into town for lunch and maybe some shopping and then you could drop me at his place and drive my car back here. Unless you want to meet up with anyone, of course.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m honestly just looking forward to another veg fest tonight.”

You changed into your bathing suit and slipped a robe over top, then met Gemma on the heated pool deck. 

“I can’t get over how warm it is right now! Clearly no hope for a white Christmas.”

“I know! Air’s still a bit chilly, but yeah, sucks. I’d love snow for the holidays,” you replied, dropping your towel on a lounge chair and untying your robe. You slid the fabric off your shoulders, and stepped down the stairs into the warm, salt water pool. You let your body acclimate a bit before dipping your head completely under and pushing off the bottom to glide to the far side in one breath. When you surfaced, you grabbed a hold of the side of the pool and realized Mr. Walker was standing at his office windows, staring down at you.

He held your gaze for what felt like a moment too long, then turned away, presumably toward his desk, but impossible for you to see his face. Which, to be honest, was fine because for a minute it felt like he was going to burst through the windows and eat you up.

The splash as Gemma broke the surface next to you snapped you out of your reverie and she tugged you back from the side, urging you into an easy lap race. You swam back and forth the length of the pool about twenty times before stopping back at the shallow end.

“That all you got?” Gemma called, crawling away toward the deep end again. 

You stared after her, but let your gaze raise to the windows. His window. You could see nothing inside from this far away, the light tint blocking everything. But you knew he was there. Was he still sitting at his desk, typing a memo? On the phone, arranging an international meeting? Or was he back at the window, watching you with his hands in his pockets, struggling not to touch himself? Or fuck, maybe he was touching himself. You sank under the water before Gemma could reach you again.

“Hot tub?” she asked, when you bobbed to the surface.

“Hot tub,” you agreed.

You lounged in the even warmer, bubbling water for another 15 minutes or so, sending the last of your finals week jitters packing. This semester was over. Your relationship was over. There was nothing more you could do about your performance for either scenario. So you closed your eyes and let it all go with a sigh.

“There you are.”

“What?” you opened your eyes as Gemma spoke.

“You’ve been on edge. I know you said you didn’t care about Charlie, but something’s been bothering you. You just look so much more relaxed now. You good? Still okay about the plans for tonight? I don’t mean to leave you all alone, but…”

“I’m gonna be so good, Gem. Don’t worry about me. Let’s go. I want to see if that pop-up shop is still around. They have the cutest jewelry.”

“Yes!”

You found the store you were looking for and bought a few new pairs of earrings. A long, thin drop chain pair and some geometric hoops, asking the clerk if you could wear the gold bar threaders out of the store. You also found a necklace for your mom and some jade bracelets for your aunt. Christmas shopping halfway done.

Gemma pulled you into a lingerie shop next. 

“I wanna get something sexy for tonight.” She tried on a few outfits and picked out a few for you to try on too.

“This is silly. I don’t have anyone to wear this stuff for anymore.”

“Oh, just wear it for yourself. Don’t you just feel luxurious in silk?”

You agreed and bought the dark blue, high cut silk romper with black lace trim and white flower print. It was maybe the sexiest thing you ever owned. And you were single. Awesome.

You and Gemma walked arm in arm to your favorite lunch spot, grabbing a table on the heated patio. You giggled conspiratorially together about how her evening with Mike would go, making sure you cut her off before she got too graphic. You did not want the details. Those were private, no matter how much Gemma liked to brag.

You hit a few more shops after lunch, nabbing a new sweater for your dad, a book from your uncle’s favorite author, and some art supplies for your cousin. You just had stocking stuffers left, so you hit up the candy shop after dropping Gemma at Mike’s.

You pulled Gemma’s car into the garage and let yourself into the basement to drop your bags down in your room, figuring you would just stay hidden and out of Mr. Walker’s way for the evening. But your stomach rumbled and you realized lunch had been hours ago. 

Before you could make it upstairs, you were distracted by the sounds of grunting and staccato smacks. You peered into the gym to find Mr. Walker throwing jabs and punches against a heavy bag. His back was to you and your mouth watered as you watched his shoulders and traps tense and ripple with each hit. From the amount of sweat dripping down his back and soaked into his tank and shorts, he’d clearly been at it for a while. He was shifting his feet back and forth in a little sparring dance and you were about to get caught out as he rotated around the bag. But you simply couldn’t move.

Mr. Walker had just pumped his arms preparing for the next hit as he rounded his target. He grabbed the bag to still it when he noticed you staring.

“Everything okay?” he asked, chest heaving.

You cleared your throat and suppressed the urge to turn and run.

“Everything’s, uh …just fine,” you smiled at him. “I was just on my way to grab a bite and heard the ruckus in here.”

“Sorry to sidetrack you.” He trained an intense stare on you, head tilting to the side. “But I was just about done anyway. If you don’t mind waiting, I can whip up something after I grab a shower?”

“That would be amazing, thank you Mr. Walker. Anything I can do to help get ready?”

He strode toward you now, grabbing a towel from the bench to wipe the sweat from his face. You watched rapt as a damp curl bounced back into place on his brow. 

“If you want to open a bottle of wine, feel free, but no need to do any heavy lifting in the kitchen. I’ve got it covered,” he winked at you with a devilish grin. Suddenly his hand was at your neck, fingers gently caressing the chain hanging from your ear. “Are these new?”

You swallowed and nodded, unable to respond.

“They’re pretty.”

“Thank you,” you practically whispered, trying not to sink to the floor before him.

You excused yourself and made your way back upstairs, wanting to simply escape his commanding presence and seek out a snack to tide you over. 

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” he called to you in the kitchen, his footsteps heavy on his way upstairs as well.

You sat with the banana you’d plucked from the fruit bowl and pondered the scene. 

Would he strip down in the bedroom or the bathroom? Would he stand under the rushing water for a bit and let the warm water loosen his muscles, hand against the wall, head hanging down? Did he touch himself? He had to touch himself, but did he use a bar or gel? Loofah? Washcloth? Or was he just running his hands all over his body now? How did he dry off? Towel over his head to shuffle those curls? Or bend over and get the legs, drying up the body first? Maybe he started with a swipe across his chest? Did he wrap that towel around his waist or just bare-ass it into the closet for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt? Barefoot? Slippers?

“Are you going to eat that?”

You jumped and dropped the banana that you hadn’t even taken one bite of to the counter.

“Oh, Mr. Walker, you startled me,” you gasped.

“You did seem rather in deep thought there. Anything I can help with?”

Why you expected him to be in a ratty pair of sweats and a t-shirt you’d never know. Mr. Walker had donned an elegant pair of loose linen pants and simple cashmere turtleneck sweater that did nothing to hide the muscles he’d been training just half an hour ago. He looked delicious.

“Here,” he reached for the as yet unpeeled banana, “let’s just put this away and get you something more substantial, okay?”

You made some light small talk about your recent semester and watched as he breezed around the kitchen, pulling out packages from the fridge and heating pans on the stove. In a mere matter of minutes he had turned a burner on to boil water and chopped asparagus, tomatoes, broccoli, and yellow peppers. When the water bubbled just right he tossed in a bag of fresh cavatelli. He asked about the rest of your Christmas plans while he sauted the vegetables in a fragrant lemon sauce. After draining the pasta, he tossed it in the pan along with a bit of pasta water, stirring to thicken up the sauce before adding some lemon zest and grated parm. Boyfriends? He asked as he ladled heaping portions into two wide flat bowls and set one down in front of you at the island.

“Thank you, Mr. Walker,” you said as you picked up your fork. “No, not anymore.”

“Please,” he rested his fists on the counter across from you.”I want you to call me August.’

“Okay. August,” you replied, as a jolt of pleasure raced through you straight to your cunt.

“Good girl.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, hoping it was masked as the enjoyment of the bite you took. August Walker wanted you as much as you wanted him. There was absolutely no doubt. When you opened your eyes, his icy blue stare greeted you while his mouth pulled into a sly smirk.

He lounged against the counter across from you, dish in hand, lifting bites of pasta to his mouth and chewing while he listened to you try to explain why it simply wasn’t working out with the men at college. It seemed to you that his breath got deeper with each failed relationship.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, licking an errant drop of sauce off the corner of your mouth. “It just feels like they aren’t really into it.”

“Into what?”

“Well, me. I guess. Into what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

“Something more…” you took a deep breath to stifle the jitters. You were about to proposition your best friend’s dad. “Passionate.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, brow raised in surprise as if he did not expect that to be your answer. He set his plate down, abandoning the last bite, and slipped his hands in the pockets of his pants. And watched you watch. Yeah. He knew. Saw it the minute you walked in the house two days ago.

You dropped your fork to your plate and slid your chair back, standing to move around the island. 

“Can I help with the dishes?”

“Are dishes what you really want to be doing right now?” he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest. “August.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets and placed them against your cheeks, fingers wrapping around the nape of your neck, but with no pressure at all.

“So, listen. I want you to be really sure about this,” his eyes darted back and forth as he searched yours for any hint of doubt, even as you nodded. When he found none, he bent to kiss you. It was gentle at first, a simple touch, then a swipe of the tongue to ease you open and slip in. The mustache tickled your nose and the scruff felt exactly how you imagined, how you wanted it. You let your mouth fall open and welcomed the gentle probing of his tongue.You whimpered when he pulled away.

He considered you then, for what felt like an eternity before he placed a thumb on your lips and tugged down to your chin then slid his digit into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue to gather whatever moisture was available. You closed your lips around his thumb and rolled your eyes back up to him, sucking slowly on his thumb and daring him to pull it out.

He huffed and sneered and pulled his thumb from your lips and tilted your mouth back up to meet his lips crashing down on yours again. When he released your mouth, he licked his lips and then turned you so he could guide you out of the kitchen, down the hall, and up the stairs to his bedroom. He sat you on the edge of the bed and you stared up into his ocean-deep eyes.

“My god you are an angel, aren’t you?”

You shivered and gasped, then released your breath slowly. He smirked again.

“You like that? When I call you an angel?”

“I really do,” you whispered.

“Good. Then whenever you’re with me, alone, you are my Angel. Is that okay with you?”

“It is.”

He smiled at you then and pulled his sweater over his head leaving him bare chested in front of you. You raised a hand as if to drift your fingers through the bed of fur covering his chest and tapering down to his stomach. But he stopped you. Grabbed your wrist with one hand and tilted your chin to him with the other, holding your gaze steady and peering deep into your soul to confirm his observation. It was written all over your face. You wanted him to tell you. You wanted him to give you permission. You wanted to hear him say yes. So you asked.

“Can I touch you August?”

“Yes, Angel. You can.” He released your hand and face and you proceeded to touch him. You slid your palm up his stomach to his chest, your fingers snaking through his hair. He heaved a sigh, then placed his hand on your wrist again and pulled you up to standing. You peered into his eyes, bit your lower lip and slid your palm back down, turning your hand so your fingertips hit his waistband first, sneaking under the fabric.

“You sure you’re ready for that right now?” he asked, placing his hand on your wrist for the third time this evening. “I think you might want to rethink that.” He put your hand over the bulge in his pants so you could feel not only how hard he was already but how large. He was silently asking you if you’d ever had a lover whose cock was as big as his and you paused for only a beat.

You knew exactly how you wanted to start. “I’m a thousand percent sure,” you grinned salaciously up at him.

His nod was practically imperceptible, so determined not to let you see how your eagerness was affecting him. How would it look if he were losing all control?

You licked your lips and brought both hands to the drawstring tie, loosening it slowly, then dragging the fabric carefully over his engorged cock. You sat back on the bed as you pushed his pants down his legs, never once letting your eyes leave his.

Not until you were ready to take him in hand did you drop your eyes to drink him in. It was the most glorious sight you could imagine. Long, thick, hard. Jumping slightly as you touched the underside with your fingertips, then settling the weight into the palm of your hands. He had not been wrong at all. No other man you’d been with could compare to his size. And you had absolutely no doubt he knew exactly how to wield it.

You were hypnotized. Even if you’d wanted to look back into his eyes to ask permission before you took him into your mouth, you simply could not tear your gaze away. Your hunger evolved into something more now, and you leaned forward, tucking your tongue under the head while your lips wrapped around him.

You knew there was no way you’d be able to take his full length inside your mouth, but you wanted to try. Wanted to show him you were willing. You gathered your spit and let it glide your mouth over his cock, past the bulbous head and as far down the veiny shaft as you could manage. With a hand firmly gripped around the base, you held him in place while you moved your mouth up and down, letting your tongue drag and circle. You could do this for hours. He might have let you. But the minute you let his tip hit the back of your throat, causing a small gag reflex and a few tears to well in your eyes, he pulled you off.

“Not yet. I’ll have you undone, but not yet.”

You blinked the tears of pleasure quickly away, confused. Charlie had always loved to come in your mouth, knowing an early release would allow him to last longer with you.

“Was it not alright?” you questioned, unsure now if all those boys had been lying when they said you were the best.

“Oh, Angel. It was divine. Do you see how fucking hard I am for you? And you’ll do that again for me. I’ll insist on it. But I want to drink you in myself, first.”

He asked you to undress. You were suddenly reminded of your spur of the moment purchase and would give anything to put yourself on display in it for him. He sensed your cautious excitement, but mistook it for hesitation.

“What is it, Angel? Are you having doubts?” he asked in a gentler tone than he’d been using since you arrived in the bedroom.

“No, August. Nothing like that. I just, well…”

He furrowed his brows at you and urged you to finish your confession.

“I mean, I want this, but I really wasn’t prepared for it to happen. And it’s embarrassing to say, but I have something I’d love to put on for you. Can I do that?”

His relief shifted to a wolfish grin, as he nodded and shifted out of your way. “Please don’t take too long.” He took himself in hand and began to slowly stroke. “I don’t want to take care of this myself.”

You nodded eagerly and rose to stand before him. It took every ounce of restraint not to sprint from the room in an effort to return to him as quickly as possible, but that didn’t feel dignified. You weren’t going to start acting like a schoolgirl in front of August Walker.

Your legs carried you purposefully through the house to your room where you undressed, put your hair up, and quickly showered. After drying off, you fished the romper out of the shopping bags on your bed, tore off the tag carefully, and stepped into the silky piece. Gemma was right, it felt so very luxurious. 

A shock of cold rushed through you. How would you ever face Gemma after tonight? It wasn’t as if you’d been scheming for this to happen. But you weren’t saying no, either. You wanted this so badly. Another deep breath. You’d just have to deal with the consequences later. There was no way you were stopping now.

You searched through your luggage for your long, white crochet cardigan with the front tie. You decided to brush your teeth quickly and took a few extra minutes to dab some of your favorite perfume along your neck and wrists. A makeup touch up seemed useless at this point, but you did fix your hair.

You took a final look at yourself in the mirror and blew out the breath you found yourself holding. This was happening.

You climbed the stairs with purpose, noting the low seductive music drifting from the top floor. You smiled at the thought that August liked to use sound to get into the mood as well. You stopped at the door to his bedroom, just as he was coming out of his own en suite, clothed now in a pair of dark blue silk pajama pants that did little to hide his ongoing erection.

“Oh Angel. I thought you’d gotten lost again,” he teased. “Come. Let me look at you.” 

He reached out his hands as he moved across the room toward you. He grasped one of your hands and raised it over your head, twirling you around once slowly then dropping your arm as you came back around to face him and tracing his hand down your throat and chest, toying with the bow at the front of your sweater.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

You nodded, wide-eyed, hoping he really loved it as much as he seemed to.

“Well, don’t you look good for me?. It’s a pity this won’t stay on long.” He pulled on the strings and slipped a hand inside the sweater, grazing your side as he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you close for a withering kiss. He palmed a breast with the other hand, rubbing against the hard nub straining through the soft fabric. He pressed the small of your back and moved you inches closer to him, his stiff cock jutting against you.

As he released the kiss, he pushed the sweater off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor behind you, once again taking up your hand and pulling you with him as he moved back to the bed. This time, he sat, legs spread wide so you could step between them.

“This really is very pretty,” he toyed with the thin straps of the romper, sliding a finger under the lace and brushing his knuckle against the top of your breast. “Would you like to keep it on a little longer?”

“I would.”

“Very well then.”

He pulled the straps down your shoulders a few inches tempting you with a state of full undress, then replaced them and moved his hands to your hips, smoothing them around to cup your ass and squeeze. He kept one hand on your lower back, pulling the other back around to the front before pushing a hip just off-kilter. You were now on a slight diagonal to him and that allowed him to more easily slide his hand off your hip and down into the crease of your thigh before he slipped a finger under the silk to trace along your folds.

You watched his eyes darken as he discovered the moisture already accumulated, waiting for him. You bit your lip as he turned his gaze to your eyes. 

“You are already so wet, Angel. You’re hungry for this aren’t you?”

“Yes, August. I want you.”

He kept his eyes glued to yours as he dipped two fingers inside your core and you gasped.

“And I want you to fuck yourself on my hand. Will you do that for me Angel?”

Your whole body was buzzing now. No one had ever prioritized your pleasure like this. If you’d had your mouth on a boyfriend’s cock, that’s where it was staying until he came in your mouth or pulled out and slipped inside your pussy. But giving you control of your own orgasm? Exhilarating.

His fingers were curled inside you, stroking and stretching you, smoothing along your walls and seeking out the most delicate spaces as you began to shift your hips against his hand. The heat spread through your body, you relaxed and sank your weight into his hand, your cunt swallowing his fingers deeper. You swept a hand under the curve of your tit, squeezing gently at the hardened nipple while you grabbed a hold of his wrist with your other hand. Using the leverage of his grip, you rocked back and forth into his palm, tossing your head back when he graced you with another curl of his fingers. He had found your spot and was going to exploit that fact, teasing you with a gentle press before spreading his fingers wide inside you.

“Please, August,” you begged.

“Please what Angel?” he smirked. “This is all you.”

You hauled your head back to stare down at him while you undulated your hips, searching for a way to position his fingers where you needed them again.

“Would you put another finger in? Please August?”

He smiled and obliged and you shivered with pleasure, finally beginning to feel the fullness and pressure you needed to reach your peak. If you could just…You snaked your hand around his wrist, moving so you could drag your thumb down beside his and urge it up to the top of your clit. You pressed his thumb into you, guiding his motion and pulling away only when you were sure he would continue on his own.

With his thumb brushing over your pearl, you rocked harder on his fingers, shifting his hand so he had no choice but to curl up into your spot and you held his hand firm in position when he did, praying to all the gods you knew that he would remain right there for just this moment longer.

He stood as soon as you came apart, catching you with an arm around your back as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your pulsing pussy.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” He kissed at the heat radiating from your cheeks, then sought your mouth and traced your lips with his tongue, opening you up to him and licking in deep. You moaned as you imagined him doing that again, lower.

“Yes, I know. You’ll get that too,” he declared, pulling away from the kiss. “What do you say, Angel? How do you feel about taking this off now that I’ve seen you so pretty in it?”

You smoothed your hands down your body, enjoying the sensual feel of the silk, still reeling from your orgasm. You nodded as he slipped the straps from your shoulders once more, this time pushing the elastic waistband over your hips and dropping the material to the floor.

August grabbed your ass then slid his hands to your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he turned to face the bed. His kiss was deep and hard as he climbed one knee and then the other onto the mattress, before easing you on your back. With your legs pinned around his waist, he ran his hands along your calves and up to the crease at the top of your thighs where he hooked his thumbs and pressed his fingertips into the flesh of your hips.

You were fully on display for him now. Nothing to stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your body, kindling the flames still licking at your skin. He eased his thumbs toward your apex, caressing your folds and massaging your slick along the edges. He let one thumb circle around your clit, pressing hard when you arched into it. He dipped the same thumb into your core, then withdrew and placed it in his mouth, licking you off his thumb like ice cream and you melted at the site of it.

You felt adored and basked in his worship, tossing your arms over your head and arching your back to press your chest out towards him. He slid his hands up your waist and over your belly to cup and knead your breasts. When he pinched, the pressure was just the other side of comfortable and you hissed with the pain. He eased up, rubbing gently for a moment before squeezing again, with the same intensity. The salacious leer on his side-cocked head sent a wave of pleasure along with the pain and you furrowed your brow and whimpered with content. Satisfied, he let you go and leaned down to kiss you again.

He unhooked your legs and directed you to the top of the bed. You eased back against the tall, plush gray velvet headboard, positioning yourself right in the middle of the California king bed.

“I’m going to eat that delicious pussy of yours now, Angel. And I don’t want you to touch me while I do. I want to try something I think you will enjoy. Will you let me?”

You furrowed your brow and nodded reluctantly, unsure what it would mean.

August climbed up to the head of the bed, knees straddling your waist as he reached behind the headboard. Your heart beat noticeably faster when you saw the thick strands of silk cord he pulled over the top. Holding them both in one hand by the plush lined leather cuffs at the ends of each, he peered down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Have you ever been restrained, Angel?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head slowly once, chin lowered with a shyness you hadn’t yet felt this evening. August grasped your jaw to tilt you towards him.

“Never be embarrassed, sweet thing. This isn’t for everyone. Believe me, I know.” He dropped one line and your chin at the same time, holding the second cuff in front of you and caressing the line. “You have options here. Let me explain. If you want, you could simply hold onto the rope. It’s soft and won’t burn or cut your hands when you squeeze tight. But the risk here is how easy it would be for you to drop it when you are unable to control yourself.”

You blinked with anticipation for the next option, then closed your eyes when he gave you a few more.

“You could always wrap the rope around your wrists or use the cuffs with a loose buckle as well, but still…” He unbuckled the cuff. “I think your best option, the one that will ensure you are able to enjoy every minute of my mouth on you, would be for you to let me tighten these around your wrists.”

He held the cuff wide for you and waited as you opened your eyes to give him an answer. With a wave of confidence surging through your body, you lifted your arm for him.

“Good girl.” He pulled the strap through the buckle and found the right fit with ease. Firm, not too tight, but certainly not loose at all. He tugged your arm down to demonstrate how little reach you had now and raised an eyebrow again with a last chance to beg off. You met his question with an unwavering gaze and he closed and opened his eyelids slowly with a smile before attaching a cuff to your other wrist.

You tested this one yourself with a tug and another thick swallow to calm your nerves and remind yourself you wanted this. So badly.

You could leave your arms winged back toward the headboard or bring your hands in front of your face, with elbows bent close by your side, but you’d never be able to touch him while he was tucked between your legs. As he began to retreat, you reached reflexively for him, even though you were unable to catch him as the rope went taut.

As if reading your mind, he bent then and allowed you to place your hands on either side of his face while he kissed first your brow, then your cheeks below each eye, the corners of your lips.  He finally slotted his mouth against yours and you leaned into it and kissed back hard.

You let out a soft whine when he finally pulled away, but he pressed a finger to your lips to quiet you, then held it there as he eased down your inflamed body, rotating soft kisses and sharp nips.

No high school boyfriend had ever gone down on you. And Charlie wasn’t the first in college, but he’d been the best so far. August blew him out of the water.

When he arrived at his destination, he pulled his hand down your throat and over your chest, fingertips skimming your belly and lifting away right before he reached your mound. 

He stared at first, eyes devouring the site before him. He tilted his head first one way then the other, as if trying to determine the perfect approach. He pushed your knees wide again when you began to tip them in, nervous about the scrutiny. When he finally eased closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation, but the warm wet sensation never came. You felt only his hands slipping under and around your bent legs, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs and holding you in place. You opened your eyes when you heard him inhale deeply and saw his own eyes flutter shut and open again. As he exhaled, the air drifted and teased, first warming and then cooling across your delicate skin.

He turned to nuzzle into the crook of your thigh, nipping and licking lightly on first one side and then the other. When his beard brushed your skin, you shuddered. It was an exquisite tickle, prickly and soft at once and everything you’d imagined. He pulled his arms from under you then, smoothing his hands along the insides of your thighs and pressing your knees wide and still he wouldn’t touch you where you ached for him.

“Please, August,” you pleaded, head straining toward him.

“Patience, little Angel.”

Only when you placed your head back against the headboard, did he dip low again, still nuzzling gently around the edges of your desire. You felt a brush of fingertips down your inner thigh and the back of a finger running up one side of your aching cunt and down the other. Then a finger along both sides, smoothing up then drifting down. At the bottom he captured your pussy lips between the knuckles of two fingers and squeezed, gently opening and closing and finally providing some of the friction you craved. But as soon as you tried to arch into it, he stopped and pulled his hand away.

“I know what you think you need, Angel. I’m here to tell you there’s more. We’ll get there. And I should have said something sooner. It would be better for you to hear this in a less vulnerable state, but if you want me to stop, at any time, I will. Do you understand?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to articulate even the word yes properly, but he wanted to hear it.

“Say it.”

“I understand August,” you spoke softly, then cleared your throat and responded with more conviction. “If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you.”

He placed a hand on your belly now, heel of his palm pressing just above your clit and rocking back yet still avoiding the tender spot. Then he lifted his palm and swept his finger toward your thigh again, massaging the flesh gently between his fingers and thumb. He did the same on the other side and finally, finally, because you were being so good and laying still for him, he eased a knuckle into your slit and held it there.

And then he craned his neck closer, pulled his finger up through your folds, and let his tongue drag in the spot where his finger was. He pressed his thumb onto your clit and rubbed small circles while his tongue lapped at the slick already forming. When he pulled his mouth away, he slid his thumb down inside you, deep and then shallow as he returned to pressing at your clit.

All you wanted was to lift your hips up to meet his pressure, but you sighed out a low moan instead, trying to be good for him. As if to reward your self-control, he let the tip of his tongue meet his thumb at your sensitive nub and then pulled his hand away so he could close his mouth and suck. When he pulled his lips away, he tugged the kernel with him for a moment before letting it go, then rubbing it with his thumb again.

When his mouth met your pussy once more, it was to press his tongue wide and flat into your folds before curling the tip up and in. He repeated this a few more times, tipping deeper and deeper each time while his thumb still strummed along your button before he finally plunged the length of his tongue right into your core and just like that wrapped his lips around your clit to pull out and away.

You closed your eyes, so he couldn’t see them begging him to put his mouth back where you wanted it, but the anticipation was stoking a fire and you didn’t want to put it out just yet. You felt his fingers push up along the soaking path, tipping into the bud and then dragging back down, middle finger dipping in on the return now. He ran this finger up and down, in and out, circling, sliding, coaxing, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore and you were about to break, he pressed his other hand low on your belly and held your hips in place, like he just knew you were about to shift and search for more friction.

When he could sense you would be good for him, he moved the hand from your belly to cup under your thigh before adding a second finger and rubbing them both furiously from side to side briefly, before splitting his fingers and spreading your labia wide. He dove in to kiss your lower lips, tracing the wide opening before licking in deep and you gasped your eyes open at the memory of his earlier kiss and promise.

As if on cue, any tension you’d been holding in your body at the thought of being tied up, forced to remain still, and eaten out while you couldn’t fully participate just vanished. You sank infinitesimally further into the bed, your arms dropped by fractions of millimeters, and your legs fell open even wider. 

August knew it. And he rewarded you for it. His mouth was on you in earnest now, kissing, sucking, nibbling, licking, lapping, prodding. His fingers were inside you and on you and around you. Two fingers twisted inside, pressing down and spreading you open. One tongue laved at your core, coaxing the heat and juice from you. When it came, you thought he would stop because this is when they stop and climb up your belly and slide their cocks inside you and grind into the wet wet heat, but he didn’t stop.

No he kept going. He kissed your quivering pussy and tongued along the folds, gathering up as much of your essence as he could. He spun those two fingers up now, caressing your walls and seeking out that most favorable spot. The one he already had you coming on earlier. The one he made you make yourself come on. God, what did it matter who was doing what? 

The fact of the matter was, August Walker was giving you your third orgasm of the night with nothing more than his mouth and hands and he still hadn’t let you touch him for very long with either your fingers or your mouth. And he certainly hadn’t placed in cock deep inside your aching cunt.

But what he was doing was continuing to worship at your altar. Well past the point that you could think straight. Was this now four or five? It was all a blur and all you knew was that if August didn’t stop, you might explode. Suddenly it was a problem that you couldn’t move your arms much past your shoulders. 

August was past caring about you thrashing your hips with one aftershock after another. Didn’t mind about having to hook his arms under your thighs and tug you back down the bed each time you tried to grasp the wrist cords and pull yourself off his face. He only wanted you to stop straining so he could show you how much better it could be. He wanted you to relax just like you had right before he’d really started in on you in earnest.

You felt his hand snake up your belly between your legs, creep over the swell of your breast, and rest against your collarbone. At first you resisted the weight, but then you welcomed it. Wondered if it might not be better if he just climbed his whole body right up on top of yours and crushed you into the mattress.

But he wasn’t going to do that, because instead he was going to ensure you came one more time while he scissored his fingers inside you and licked you into oblivion. When you screamed his name, he grinned a kiss against your thigh, crawled out from between your knees, and gently, ever so carefully, eased your legs together and unbent them. 

He traced his hand back up your heaving belly and chest, wrapped his fingers around your throat and tilted your neck towards him.

“So, so beautiful when you come, Angel. I wanted it to last forever for you.”

You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue and whimpered into his mouth because you suddenly realized you wanted that too and it was too late.

“Is it too late?” you whispered and he chuckled at you. 

“You should pace yourself.” He knelt beside you and unbuckled your wrists, kissing each one as he freed you from the cuffs, then dropping to his back beside you. “Thank you, for opening yourself to me.” 

“How in the world are you thanking me after that?” you laughed, still shaking from the explosions, but moving toward your next goal. “And also... Can I get back to this now?”

You began to scoot down between his legs, dragging his silky pants with you and tossing them to the floor. 

“If you’re sure you're ready.”

You trailed your fingers up his thighs as you moved back into position on your belly. He was still hard as rock when you reached for him. You licked your lips at the sight, then sent your eyes straight to his while your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock with a smile. You worked him slow and methodically, tonguing along his length, tasting his warmth. You were salivating for this man, dribbling spit to help ease your tour of his member, and yet you knew you’d never reach the base. You let your hand twist around him, squeezing and grabbing while you worked your mouth down to meet it.  

“Your mouth feels so good on me, Angel. You like doing that, don’t you?”

You peered at him through your lashes and nodded, attempting another wide smile to agree. His hands smoothed up your arms, over your shoulders, and into your hair. You didn’t need him to hold your head against his cock, but he grunted and shifted his hips to press deeper into your mouth. You would have done this for him all night. Let him lay back and enjoy being worshiped the way he had worshiped you.

But with one hand on your nape and one right on top of your head, August helped himself to the pleasure you were offering without hesitation and began fucking your mouth in earnest. With each thrust, you felt him edge deeper until he finally found the back of your throat. 

“There you go,” he grunted. “That’s a good girl. Taking me so deep.”

You could do nothing more than open wide and let him drive, feeling the saliva drip from your mouth with no opportunity to swallow. He set a steady, punishing pace and while you were enjoying it, you also couldn’t help but imagine this must be what your aching pussy would feel like shortly. Your tears were flowing freely now, too, spurred on by the constant stimulation.

Suddenly, he pulled you off and you were confused for one brief, maddening moment until you heard him command you.

“Hands and knees.”

You pressed yourself up as he shifted to his knees as well before returning his hands to your head and dragging your mouth down his cock once again. You felt his grip on your hair at your neck tighten, his pace even faster than before. In just moments, with your watering eyes rolled up as far as they could go to watch him sneer down at you, you felt his release coat the back of your throat, hot and salty, as he came with a growl.

He hauled you up, shifting his knees forward to meet you, pressing his chest against you, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the tears from your cheeks and praised you. He settled back against the headboard, taking you with him and scooping your legs over his, nestling your head against his chest and holding you close. You could feel his heart pounding, the intensity matched only by the speed at which yours beat. His fingers traced along your spine, caressing your shoulder and at the same time he held your hip on his lap and tortured you with tender touches along the flesh of your thighs and legs.

You trailed your fingers over his chest and angled your head to nip at his neck. 

“Was that okay?” he asked, uncharacteristically soft. You bit the urge to respond with sarcasm.

“I loved every second of it.” You punctuated your response with a kiss, cupping his cheek and tonguing his mouth open to lick into the softness.

He groaned and kissed you back for what felt like forever until you began to feel a nudge at your thigh. You reached down between your heated bodies to find him, wrapping your hands around his girth and stroking him to full erection. Without breaking the kiss you began to shift, sliding a leg to either side of his hips. Just as you had raised up, ready to slide him deep inside you, he gripped your shoulders tight and pulled away.

“Wait.”

“Why?”

Without answering, he easily lifted and deposited you on your back beside him, before rolling to the nightstand beside the bed. He pulled out a foil packet and bottle of lube.

“Because I care about you.” He tore the packet and pulled out the condom then squeezed a few drops of lube in before rolling it over his engorged length. He added a few more drops and pumped a few times, before dropping to his back again beside you.

“Now, where were we?” he grinned.

He slipped his arm underneath you and pulled you to him, guiding your leg over his hip again. On your knees, you took him in hand but before you could position his tip at your entrance, he pressed two fingers deep in your slit, massaging and stroking, scissoring you wide. You felt the heat building again and dropped your head back with a moan, still dragging your hand up and down his length. Your pussy was squelching with the juice he was coaxing and you felt his hand slip out then wrap around yours as you both directed him inside you.

With just the tip, you already felt fuller than you ever had and you sat with that feeling for a moment, hands still wrapped around the rest of his cock and keeping you from sliding all the way down.

Once you felt yourself relax around him, you nudged his hand away with your own and began to sink, slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation. His hands gripped your hips all the while as he gazed in wonder and concern.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fucking fantastic,” you replied, rocking back slightly to view the point of his disappearance inside you.

“Do you remember what I told you before?’ he asked, a little more heat and darkness creeping into his voice.

“I can stop you at any time.”

“Yes. And if you can’t get the words out, pinch me.”

You were going to nod your understanding, but remembered he liked to hear it as much as you did. “Yes, August.”

“Good girl.”

August began a slow roll of his ups, nudging up into you and shifting you off balance for a moment. You caught yourself with your hands on his chest, then sat back up to start a slow grind of your own. For several long minutes it was just you riding him slowly, like an easy afternoon stroll, completely in sync with his movements.

When he began to pump faster, you braced your hands on his legs behind you trying to hold on for dear life. He gripped you by the hips and held you in place while bucked and then he ran his hands up your sides and hauled you down to his chest. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you so close, kissed you so hard, rocked even deeper into you than you ever thought possible and just when you thought it was about to hit you like a ton of bricks, he flipped you to your back.

He started a slower pace now, still holding you close, still ravishing your mouth. But when you wrapped a leg around his back, he lifted himself onto his arms and looked down between you then over to the leg at his side.  With a devilish grin, he reached back and under that leg, shifting it up over his shoulder. He picked up the pace, returning to the steady jackhammering you’d experienced while on top. And while you didn’t think deeper was possible, here he was, moving your limbs around to find more space. He pulled your other leg up now, no longer leaning forward, but up on his knees, holding you open before him while he pounded away.

This was more than you’d ever felt before. This was precision fucking at it finest and you were barely holding on. 

“You can let go, Angel. You can come around my cock, squeeze me hard. I won’t break,” he commended you, letting go of one leg and reaching down to massage your clit again with his thumb. That was all it took.

“Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck, August, Fuck!” 

“That’s it, Angel. I can feel you right now,” he growled. “Feel all the heat bursting inside you, feel your walls squeezing around me. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes. My god. Fuuuuuuuuuck! Fuck! Please,” you pleaded, panting and feeling like you were about to pass out. “Please.”

“Please what, Angel?”

“Please…” you didn’t exactly want him to stop but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“I want you to come. Please August.”

He clenched his jaw and gave a few more hard thrusts before pulling out and flipping you one more time to your hands and knees. You could barely hold yourself up, sinking to your forearms, head into the mattress. But your ass was still in the air and your pussy was still on display for him and he took you one more time. He lined himself up again behind you, sheathed himself in one long simple stroke, holding still for one moment.

“You're still coming, I can feel it. God, you are amazing. You’re taking me so good.”

Incoherent babble is all he got in return. Even if you’d wanted him to stop, you could no longer form full words, let alone sentences. And how would you ever find the strength to reach back to even graze his skin, let alone pinch it? Whatever. You were riding a wave of the longest high you’d ever been on while August resumed his magnificent assault on you.

After a few more strokes, you felt him swell even larger than he already was, filling you up more fully than he already had. With one final animal roar, he released himself with a hand pressing against your lower back, slowing stilling as he filled the condom inside you. You shuddered with an aftershock and wanted to drop to your belly with him on top and never pull that blanket off.

After just a short moment, you felt his hand at your entrance, fingers drifting lightly through your folds before he gathered himself and the condom in hand and pulled all the way out for good. He pushed against you lightly to urge you flat. You vaguely registered words of praise coming from his mouth, but you were so spun off into oblivion you couldn’t be sure what they were.

From some far off place, you heard water running, then felt a dip beside you, and the wet warmth of a tender caress between your shaking legs. Somehow, you were maneuvered to your back to receive another gentle swipe, before you felt his lips press against your mouth, his tongue seeking your own.

It took everything you had to peel your eyes open and meet his gaze.

“Is that what you meant by passion?” he asked.

“It’s a start.”

August chuckled and gently eased himself to the side of the bed, swinging his legs off and standing. He tilted his head from side to side, loosening a few kinks before he strode with purpose into the bathroom. When he returned, he held out a blue silk robe and helped you into it once you stood from the bed. He tied the belt around your waist, then reached to the floor for his  matching pants. As he stood, he gathered you in his arms for another kiss before he took your hand and led you back downstairs.

Trailing behind him, you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself deposited on the deep plush conversation sofa. August flipped on the switch to the gas fireplace and leaned over to drop one more kiss on your lips, then told you to sit tight.

The warm glow of the fire mesmerized and hypnotized you, not that it was hard. You had been overstimulated and now the exhaustion was settling in. You felt high, completely spaced out. You had never felt so thoroughly and completely fucked in your entire short life. 

August returned a few moments later. Or was it hours? You had no idea. All you knew was that he placed a live edge wooden serving tray holding a few bottles of water, some fruit and cheese, a few small bowls of olives, almonds, and fig jam, some cut baguette, two champagne flutes, and a bottle of bubbly on the low ottoman in front of you, then eased himself onto the couch next to you.

“Let’s get you hydrated,” he leaned forward and grabbed a bottle from the tray.

“How did you know I’d want that?” you teased, harkening back to your first night home.

“You are a cheeky one, aren’t you?” August opened the bottle and pulled you close, tipping the cool, sweet water into your open mouth, eyes watching you closely to see when you’d had enough.

“Only for you,” you purred, reaching for the bottle so you could take another drink for yourself. When you pulled the bottle away from your lips, August bent to steal another kiss from you.

“A little dangerous, too.” He shifted a knuckle along your jaw, catching the soft indent in your chin to bring your face back to his. He kissed you for what felt like a millenia and you could have stayed that way all night. And then it hit you.

“Dangerous how?” you asked, when you pulled away reluctantly.

August closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, still leaning forward from the broken kiss. He sat up straighter when he exhaled and opened his eyes.

“My sweet Angel. I really didn’t mean to spoil our moment, but in a million years could you ever imagine this night could happen again?”

He held your gaze, and wouldn't let you turn away. You could see the anguish in his eyes. This wasn’t a lie. 

“But why would…?”

“You deserve to know the passion you crave. I wanted to help you learn about your desire. You are a strong, intelligent, thoughtful, and gorgeous woman. I wanted you to see you are capable of getting everything you want. You only need to be sure of it. And perhaps understand you can ask for more.”

“But I want you.”

August didn’t reply immediately and in the silence you knew he was thinking of exactly the same person you now were. If you were ever going to keep this night a secret from her, you’d have to make it a solitary event with no hope of a repeat. How were you ever going to deny your craving?

“Come here.” August set your bottle of water aside and drew you into his arms, leaning back against the sofa as you relaxed onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head and ran a hand slowly up and down your back.

“This isn’t fair,” you murmured.

“Life rarely is, Angel. Come on, let’s just enjoy the time we do have. What d’you say, hmm?”

You nodded and sniffed away the beginnings of your tears. August gently sat you up, then prepared small bites of food from the tray and brought them to your lips. You soaked in all the attention, certain you’d never feel so safe and loved again in your life.

With some energy back, you felt your mood lighten. August was right. You should make the most of what time you have left. You reached for the champagne bottle, peeled off the foil wrap, and untwisted the thin metal cage surrounding the cork. August chuckled as he watched you struggle with the cork, so you stuck out your tongue and handed the bottle to him.

“Please?” He popped the cork with ease and poured the golden liquid for you both.

“A toast?” He raised his glass to yours and watched closely as you mulled it over.

“To one night only.”

“One night only.” He smiled with a nod and watched as you took a sip, then stole a kiss before taking a drink from his own glass. He grabbed a strawberry from the tray and held it to your lips as you took a bite. “Now another drink.”

You almost squealed as the flavors exploded in your mouth. 

“When you try this on your own, be sure to get an extra-dry champagne,” August cautioned. “Moet brut won’t work with this flavor combination.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind when I replenish my champagne cooler at school,” you teased. “What about this one?” You took another bite of strawberry and a sip of champagne, then leaned in for a kiss letting the flavors swirl in your mouth alongside his tongue. August continued the kiss, even as he set his glass aside and grabbed for yours to set it down as well.

He eased you to your back on the couch and slipped the tie loose from your robe before he finally broke the kiss.

“That’s also a good one. You’re quite the quick study.” He pushed the fabric aside, baring your chest and stomach, then appraised you for a moment before running his fingers over your breasts and down your belly, letting his mouth follow the trail.

You let out a soft moan and spread your legs involuntarily as he shifted to the floor and tugged your hips around so your ass was hanging off the sofa to give him better access. He let your legs rest over his shoulders and you sighed as he once again slipped his tongue and fingers through your folds, ravishing your core to bring another orgasm crashing over you. 

You barely had a moment to recover before you felt the belt of your robe sliding out from underneath you and in a swift heartbeat, August had you flipped over, urging you onto your knees on the cushions with your arms leaning on the back of the couch. You peered back at him, while he shifted the fabric of the robe over your back, letting it drape off to the side and leaving your bare ass and legs completely exposed to him. He watched you carefully as he rubbed a large hand over one cheek, then drew back and spanked you hard. He was already caressing the red mark before the shocked gasp left your lips. He quirked an eyebrow at you in a silent question. Again?

You pondered the feeling and decided that yes, August Walker could spank your ass. You turned your head to peer over the back of the couch and jutted your hips back towards him wordlessly asking for more, which he gladly gave. The sharp smacks were sometimes single, sometimes doubled up, but always tempered with a gentle caress before he dealt another blow.

You were dripping for him. When he dragged two fingers through your soft petals to gather the nectar, you glanced back to see him wrap his lips around his fingers and lick your taste off them. Then he reached his hand in the pockets of his pants and withdrew another foil square before dropping his pants altogether.

“You planned this,” you cried in feigned scandal.

“I hoped for it. Not the same thing,” he gently replied, rolling the condom over his swollen length. “But it’s always good to be prepared. Speaking of which…” 

August reached forward to grasp the silk belt he’d tossed aside, then drew one of your arms back behind you.

“May I have your other arm, Angel?”

You offered it without hesitation, shifting off the back of the couch so that all your weight was now on your knees. You felt him loop the belt around both wrists separately before he wrapped the tie a few more times around both. Holding the binds of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to guide his sheathed cock to your soaked pussy, gliding easily into your core. Once his hips met yours, he started a commanding pace, pumping in and out of you all the while holding you in place with your hands.

As if he could feel you losing control, unable to stay up straight any longer, August let the belt slips a few inches through his fingers before gripping tight again, giving you enough room to bend forward and rest your chest on the back of the couch while he continued to pump in and out of you with a devastating pace, the juice from you squelching around his cock.

“You fucking take me so good, Angel. Such a pretty pussy. Can you hear her talking to me? She says the sweetest things.”

He set a hand on your low back and pressed his against your stretched entrance, letting it drag along his cock as he moved back and forth and gathering some of your slick on the pad. You felt him ease his hand up, fingers pressing into the flesh of your asscheeks before he teased around your puckered rim with his thumb. When the moan escaped your mouth he knew he was on the right path and wasted no more time. He slipped his thumb right into your hole and held on while you bucked back against him.

“Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you? Fucking my cock so good. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. August, fuck yes.” You could barely form more words so moans of pleasure and squeals of delight were all he heard but they were enough to spur him on and lead him down the path of his own release just as soon as he felt yours.

With one practiced tug, he released you from the bind and eased himself out of your still pulsing pussy, then guided you to stand before him, pressing kisses along your shoulders and neck while he pulled the spent condom off his softening dick. He grabbed a napkin from the tray and wrapped it in a wad before spinning you to face him and kissing you hard.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

He led you upstairs one last time, abandoning the snack platter and half-full champagne bottle. He took you through to his bathroom, turned on the warm spray jets of the tiled shower, then disrobed you completely. You stepped into the glass cabinet and turned to grab his arm to bring him with you.

Without prompting, he grabbed a bar of the same bright citrus scented soap you always found in your guest room and lathered you up. If you weren’t about to fall asleep on your feet, you’d succumb so easily to the way his fingers danced across your skin, caressing every nook and cranny like they knew the way by heart. He spun you into the water to rinse and set to cleaning himself.

And now you had your answer. It was body wash, with a woodsy, pine scent. He rubbed it all over his body with his bare hands. He watched you watching, mesmerized at the way his muscles moved and the carefree way he gathered his own package and lathered it with suds before shifting you gently out of the way and rinsing off under the cascading water. 

Yes, he leaned an arm against the wall, but that could be just because you were with him and he wanted to encase you while he kissed you, tongue probing gently and mouths moving in unison. He groaned as he pulled away.

“We’d better get some sleep.”

The fluffy towel he dried you with was heavenly against your skin. He toweled himself as well before leading you back to his bed. 

“Are you comfortable sleeping here with me tonight?” he asked. “If you’d rather wake up in your own bed, I’d understand.”

It was uncharacteristically sweet, the way August was now wondering how you would feel in the morning, knowing you could never have him again. 

“I’d like to stay with you for tonight, if that’s okay.”

“More than okay.” He pulled the covers back and slipped in, holding them up for you to join him. Wrapped in his arms, head against his chest, you found yourself drifting off faster than you would have liked. You loved pillow talk, but supposed you’d managed that with him before, during, and a little after downstairs by the fire. Besides, pillow talk was for lovers. Which you were now assured you were not.

You woke later than you’d planned, your body still clearly recovering from the unexpected vigorous activity. August was not with you and though you knew the morning would not be a time to whisper sweet nothings, still you’d hoped to wake in his arms, just as you’d fallen asleep. The robe he’d lent you last night was draped across the foot of the bed and your lingerie was folded neatly on a chair nearby. 

You shrugged into the robe and grabbed your things, then headed downstairs where you could smell coffee already brewed but found no sign of August in the kitchen. You continued down to your room where you realized you’d left your phone all night. Shit.

When you picked it up, there were about ten messages from Gemma and you braced yourself as you opened the app to read them. Yes, in the end she wondered where the fuck you were and why you weren’t answering her but there was no urgent call to get her immediately. The night with Mike seemed like it had gone exactly as planned.

She only wanted to let you know Mike’s friends were throwing a New Year’s party and of course you were invited. Mike even had a university friend coming in from out of town for the party and Gemma wanted to set you up with him. The guy in the picture she sent looked cute enough. Apparently he sailed and had dark, wavy hair, a little shorter than Mike’s. His smile was amazing, but to your eyes, he was a boy. He would never compare, you were sure.

Just as you were contemplating how to let him down gently, your phone rang and Gemma’s number appeared. You took a deep breath and hoped nothing in your voice would betray you.

“Hey!” you answered brightly.

“Whoa, too much. Too loud. Calm down.” Gemma was hungover, for sure.

“Sorry,” you quieted. “Everything okay?”

“I think I drank a liquor store last night. Mike’s still passed out, but I need my bed. Can you come get me?”

“Now? Yeah. Of course. Let me just get my shoes on. See you in thirty?”

Gemma agreed, though she wished you’d ignore some of the speed signs along the way and you laughed, promising to grab a Vitamin Water from the fridge before you left.

You noticed another message come through just as you hung up with Gemma. August was in his office. He didn’t want you to think you’d been abandoned, but he had to get an early start for meetings and wanted to let you sleep in. You texted him you were off to get Gemma. Chat bubbles appeared and disappeared a few times before a solitary frowny face finally appeared.

With no idea how to respond and not a lot of time to spare hashing it out, you dressed quickly, grateful you’d already washed off last night’s extravagance. You grabbed the keys to Gemma’s car, grabbed a water from the gym, and headed back out to the garage.

Gemma was still too dazed to inquire much about why you were absent from your phone last night and you didn’t offer any conversation about it. The whole drive was pretty quiet except for the radio. August was gone when you got back and while Gemma couldn’t care less, you were a little let down. You’d hoped you’d be able to at least sit with him a bit while Gemma slept off the rest of her hangover, but that wasn’t to be.

He kept himself pretty scarce the rest of the week, too, texting Gemma he wouldn’t be home for dinner any of the nights until you were scheduled to head back home for Christmas Eve. Four long-suffering nights and days filled with late breakfasts by the pool and dinner and drinks in town with Mike and other friends. You barely got to say goodbye to August as he breezed off to one final meeting the morning of the 24th before Gemma came upstairs to grab coffee.

Christmas was low key with just the six of you at your parents. No other relatives were traveling in and no one else nearby had invited you over for anything special. Gemma always celebrated alone with her dad, too. Your aunt wanted to take you and your mom to the sales the day after Christmas and that was an all day, exhausting affair. You were in bed by 9.

Over the next five days, you visited with Gemma and Mike, old high school friends, and your parents a few times. But never August. Gemma said as wonderful as Christmas was with him, he was stressing about the deal and spending all his time at the office since the day after. He needed to get the deal signed by the 31st at the absolute latest. And his company’s New Year’s Eve gala was set for the Grand Hotel downtown. He’d offered you both tickets, but Gemma really wanted to hang out with Mike.

Will was nice enough, if a little on the arrogant side. He was a good kisser and you could kinda imagine what he might be able to do with that mouth placed somewhere else, but then you really thought about it and decided the missing facial hair would change the feel. Nevermind. He was at least gracious about the letdown.

The drive back to school was a little somber. You were still trying to figure out if there was any possibility of a roommate swap. Gemma offered to just put you up at her place for the semester, but you didn’t want to sleep on a couch fantasizing about her father while she was in the other room. Maybe Brigette would just spend all her time at Charlie’s, like you should have.

A few days after the start of classes, a small package arrived for you in your mailbox. You’d grabbed it on the way to your Criminal Procedures lecture and stuck it in your backpack to open later. When you got back to your room after taking advantage of office hours to clear the theme for your research paper, you sat cross legged on your bed and opened the small, cardboard box. Inside, nestled in tiny, delicate packing peanuts, was an even smaller, embossed white paper sleeve surrounding a small, red velvety square box.

Inside was a thin, delicate gold chain, with a charm of black onyx arranged in the gold outline of an art deco wing. An angel's wing.

You searched the box for a card and finally found one buried under the packing material once you realized you’d opened the box upside down. There was a simple message to you.

'Angel. This belongs on the part of you I never got the chance to chain. Remember all you are worth and take it as you can. Yours for one night. - A’

Taglist (if you are crossed out I can’t tag you)

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @feelmyroarrrr @beck07990 @mysweetlittledesire @mollymal @summersong69  (Old times sake? @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sebbytrash @anotherwinchesterfangirl )

Holiday Angel: @angelcavill66 @lizzystuffsthings​ @plaidcat4815 @augustsprincess  @alexakeyloveloki @gofirityouguys

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #august walker au #ceo!august walker #ceo!august #best friend's dad #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #holiday angel #mine

[buckyshusband0]

𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

pairing; DarkProfessor!August Walker x M!Reader

☬— nsfw content. dark themes. body worship. degrading/praising. jealous themes. mentions of past trauma. rough sex. descriptions of violence/murder. daddy kink. knife play. verbal insults.

summary; After having a first glance at you, professor August knew he wanted to make you his. The only thing stopping him was that you were a forbidden obsession. Not only an obsession, but you were his student.

THE brightness of the sun seeped through the jet-black curtains as the morning day came to a beginning for August Walker. A slight groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself up and leaned his muscular back against the dark bed frame.

His hooded eyes looked around the bedroom as a — quiet but still audible — sigh left his mouth. His hand gestured over his beard as he got up from his bed to get ready for the day.

Once he was ready, he made his way into his jet-black car with a black hot coffee in his hand. After a 10-minute drive towards the university, August slammed his car door shut and marched his six-foot frame towards his classroom.

Attending a university when your professor is August Walker, of course, he would get all the lust-filled eyes from the girls as he walked through the halls with his slightly unbuttoned shirt and his sleeves rolled up on his muscular arms.

Why wouldn't he?

He walked around the place like he owned it. He knew he had this hold of power over everyone in the university, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. The girls worshipped the ground he walked upon, wanting every but of him. But he didn't care for them.

But August only cared for one person. A person who was so naive as to not even recognize the thoughtful acts he would do for him every day. Someone he would secretly protect without his knowledge.

That person was you...

His beautiful sweet angel. You looked shy when you were not with the right people, but when you were, a beautiful smile would break out on your face. As soon as he saw you enter his classroom, August lost his breath as he knew you were going to cause him problems. He was clear that you caused him to have an obsession with wanting you.

They say "love at first sight" doesn't exist, but with August, he felt that love for you blossom out of his stone-cold heart. You were like a plague, something which invaded his mind 24/7.

He couldn't stop thinking about you.. he felt compelled to have you underneath him, to feel your soft skin under his touch. To hear your sweet moans as he gave you the pleasure you most desired. August needed you...

As time goes by, the hallway that was once flooded by people begins to become empty from people going to their lectures. Your soft lips pressed against Zayn, your boyfriend as he forcefully kissed you hard. His hands went to your arms—where bruises covered—and let his mouth form into a smirk.

Zayn was your boyfriend of 2 years.

He wasn't always like this, he was once a loving man. But something inside of him switched. Something to cause you harm. You were too naïve to notice any of his wrongs.

"We're going out tonight, baby," Zayn ordered. He never asked you, just ordered. He never asked why you would cry yourself to sleep, why you would feel like something was holding you down. Your heart clenched and your eyes would cry until they couldn't no more from the way Zayn wouldn't even reassure you.

Reassurance was all you needed...

As he spoke, you nodded before walking away to enter your lecture. When you walked into the room, your professor, August Walker, was talking to a student until his words came to a stop. Without your knowledge, your presence made August happier.

One thing ran through his wretched mind the whole time he taught everyone who stayed sat the whole time, paying attention to the words that flowed out of his mouth. You...

August couldn't help himself but picture what your beautiful body would look like under his. Your sweet angelic moans would escape your lips from the pleasure that he knew you desired — That he desired. He wanted you and only you.

The sinful thoughts that would pop up in his mind caused him to stutter while he was teaching the class that you were sitting in. How could he not? Your (e/c) eyes connected with his every time he would talk, and just by making eye contact with you, his pants tightened.

August knew that he couldn't breathe without you… You were the main cause of his morning awakening. He was aware that this forbidden obsession with you would get him into trouble, yet he didn't care. He was only aware that you were going to be his.

No matter what.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

The terrible smell of alcohol reeked through the club.

August felt the — almost silent — wooden floor creak under his heavy feet as he entered the place. The sight of people letting their bodies lose to the music and chugging alcohol into their system made August grimace with a scowl on his face the whole time.

He walked over to the bar — which was crowded with many slouchy men— with his broad shoulders and towering stance. He gives a sharp nod to the bartender whose eyes were glued onto him, waiting for his order and hurried to get a beer at his command.

The sound of unfunny jokes could be heard being thrown around from man to man as August's blue eyes observed the crowded place. He was here for one thing only—well someone...

August knew you would be here.

That is what he loves to believe—that he wasn't stalking or following you. He wasn't, He was protecting you. Protecting you in any way from the risks that this world might pose to you. He was aware that he had to keep his beautiful angel safe from harm.

Because if something were to happen to you at the hands of someone else, they would have seen the devil himself, only God knows. August would happily cover his hands in the blood of the person who had the audacity to harm what was rightfully his with a smile on his damn face.

His hand gestured gently to his pocket to feel for the pocket knife he always carried with him just in case someone ever tried anything with you. He knew no one would try to attack him because of his threatening build and hovering height.

And then, his eyes connected to your figure.

He felt a muscle in his jaw ticks from the scene that was happening in front of him. You were—drunkenly dancing—with another student of his from another class, Zayn.

August couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. His face turned into a dark red and his knuckles turned white. The sudden sound of glass breaking caused him to step out of his trance and look down at his bloodied hand.

"Fuck." August whispers as his vision darkened at the sight of seeing the—used to be fixed—beer bottle now broken into little pieces in his hand. But, he could care less about his wound. What he really cared about was the anger that he had never felt when he watched you grind onto another man.

Another man who isn't him...

Jealousy hasn't been so clear before, but it was painted like a perfect picture on a canvas on August's face. His brows furrow when he could see Zayn forcefully pull you into a hallway where no one was in and that makes him stand up harshly.

He steps into the — lightly dimmed — hallway and hides behind a wall to observe what is happening. His nostrils flare with anger and envy coursing through his veins from the thought of you being with someone else. Someone who isn't him...

"C'mon, baby... stop being scared and let me touch you..." Zayn whispered drunkenly into your ear as his hands caressed your body. He had you pushed against the wall and even though you were drunk, you clearly didn't want this.

"Zayn, I-I don't want this." You muttered under your breath as you felt his slimy hands make their way under your shirt. You felt an uneasy feeling in your stomach from his touch.

You didn't like it.

You wanted this to stop. "Baby quit bitching and let your boyfriend fuck you," Zayn said with anger and impatience as you didn't let him touch you the way he wanted to. He could see that you were uncomfortable, but he didn't care.

Zayn always loved that feeling he had with you. The feeling of power. He had knowledge about how you're childhood was and why you're this naïve now — which is why he loves to take advantage of you. He loves having a sense of power over you.

But you were done with it.

"I said, stop!" You shout and roughly push Zayn off to get him far away as possible and march your way out of the exit with tears trying to fight their way to escape your eyes.

August's eyebrows lower as he sees you walk out and debates whether or not he should follow you, but he can't just let Zayn walk away feeling happy with himself. He couldn't let Zayn walk away freely after hurting his angel mentally and physically.

And with that, August steps out from behind the wall and marches his heavy feet towards Zayn whose brows furrow from seeing his professor. "Professor Walk-" His words are cut off when a straight punch connects to his jaw, sending him to the rough ground.

His face starts to get covered in crimson-red blood as August continues laying punch after punch onto this fuckers face for touching and disrespecting his sweet angel.

He was going to pay for what he did...

"If I ever hear you talk to y/n or touch him like that again, I will not hesitate to hurt you again. And so God help me, if I find out you were to hurt him again—" August lets out a low evil chuckle and lays another punch onto his broken rib. "I'll kill you with a smile on my face." He seethes through his teeth as he starts to stand up.

"F-Fuck you man!" Blood covers his ugly teeth and a smirk makes its way onto August face as Zayn coughed up more blood.

"Just know this, Zayn, and hear me clearly..." August reaches for the knife in his pocket and retracts it. He roughly injects the cold metal blade into Zayn's stomach and leans in toward his ear. He licked his soft pink lips before speaking.

"He's mine."

Zayn's brown eyes widen from the blood that was rushing out of his body. His skin turning pale, and his eyes fighting to stay open. His vision slowly turning black as the last thing he saw was August's dark shadow walk away from him. He was left there to die. Left alone.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

Darkness was all you could see.

The sound of crickets could be heard as you walked on the rough concrete with your arms crossed. The chilling breeze caused your body to shiver and bumps to grow on your skin.

Your thoughts were running wild as you walked to get back home. You couldn't believe what just happened. You actually stood up for yourself... sort of. The sudden sound of a loud honk and beaming lights came behind you and you started walking faster.

"No, no, no, no."

You whispered under your breath hoping the person in the jet-black car would just surpass you and not think to look back. That was until it stopped right by your side and the window rolled down and you felt your eyes widen from who you saw.

"Professor August?" You questioned the knowing face. Worry covered your professor's face as he observed the unsafe environment that you and he were currently in.

"y/n? What are you doing out here walking alone at this time? It's not safe." August said sternly with concern laced in his husky deep voice. You frown not wanting to tell him what happen, but he already knew. Hell.. he even dealt with the problem.

August could still see the way how your body didn't stand up straight, so he knew you were still drunk. "Get in, I'm taking you to my place." You were too drunk to even comprehend what he was really saying, so with that you got into his car and felt how soft the passenger seat was. His face was lightly lit up from the street lights and you couldn't help yourself but think how attractive August is. You feel your body grow with heat and your eyes widen slightly with the sinful forbidden thoughts that rush through your mind. 'Stop it y/n... he's your professor.' You thought to yourself as he drove to his apartment.

Now you were sitting on the end of his bed waiting for him to come back with a glass of water he said he would get. August let a gentle smile come onto his face at the thought of him taking care of you.

This is how it should be...

Him making sure you're safe, well-fed, cleaned, and loved. He needed to love on you like no one else could. He wanted to be yours as much as he wanted you to be his. He couldn't help the feeling of butterflies crawling their way into his stomach at the thought.

He brings the glass of water and lays it down gently on the desk. "Are you okay, angel?" August asked with a soft tone he would only use with you. You are so special to him and you don't even realize... Too blind to see the acts he has act upon for you to notice him.

He let out a soft breath as he looked down at you and saw an unfamiliar look in your (e/c) eyes. "Angel are you-" August's words were cut off when he felt a pair of lips connect with his. A bright pink shade reached his cheeks as you kissed him, and God did he love the feeling. The feeling of your soft lips on his...

He soon returned the passionate kiss and felt the butterflies he once felt, come rushing back in. Fuck he needed you so bad... Your tongues soon started to dance with each other—fighting for dominance. He backed away from the kiss to connect his lips to the soft skin of your body and gestured over every mark on your body.

"You're so beautiful..."

His tall muscular body leans in towards your ear, his hot breath exhaled towards your (s/c) skin which made unwanted goosebumps arrive. His next words left you to let out a soft whine escape your lips.

"I'm gonna fucking ruin you angel.."

August's words made a smile reach onto your face as you leaned back onto the silky sheets of the bed and reached your hands out for him to take. He threads his rough fingers into your soft-like ones and puts them over your head. He leans in for another kiss until you have to pull away—which causes a string of salvia to form—to catch the loss of breath.

Your body was in bliss as you felt nervous under his touch. His blue dilated eyes held nothing but lust and love. As you feel his hands gesture over your thighs, you look away but instantly feel a finger under your chin to reconnect your hungry gaze to his.

"Look me in my eyes as I fuck you, angel."

You swallow a growing lump in your throat and nod to the six-foot man's order. Without warning, you felt a soft pair of plump lips against your hole and your eyes widen from the euphoric feeling that made its way towards your stomach.

It was all happening so fast. Soft moans escape from your lips and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your toes curl. Your fingers thread through August's brown hair and you pull at it roughly which causes a muffled grunt to leave him.

The eye contact August was making was so real. His eyes filled with—nothing but lust and love— never stopped looking at you as he ate you out like you were his last meal. "Fuck, that feels so good!" You moaned out loud, not holding back any noises. Your body jolts up when you feel three fingers curl up inside of you and penetrate your hole roughly. Your cock leaking as you felt your orgasm rushing in already.

"Shit, I'm so close, keep going-" Your words were cut off when he yanks his fingers away from you to your wet tongue, leading them. As he forces you to suck on the fingers that are already within you, he inserts another finger. He moves them into scissor motions as he removes them from your lips to show how wet they have become.

"You're not gonna fucking cum till I say so, understand?" August growled out and all you could do was nod until you felt his thick cock push itself into you. Your eyes widen from the size of it and sweet moans escaped your lips.

"A-August..." You mumble a whisper as he thrusts deep inside of you over and over. You couldn't believe what was happening. This felt so... so real. August hands caressed your body, worshipping every part of it. Like the beauty you are. Your touch, your moans, your fucking sweet scent. August couldn't hold back any longer. He felt his cock twitch inside your pulsing hole—which signaled he was about to cum.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum! Cum with me, angel... cum with me like the good boy you are." He moaned out. The scratches that you caused on his back start to turn a dark shade of red and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he felt his sticky, white cum paint the inside of your walls— like a blank canvas waiting for its artist to perfect a masterpiece.

A masterpiece is what you are...

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, August pulls out of you and falls down onto the soft sheets. You fall onto his chest and lay a gentle kiss on his chest as you look up at him. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, as if you could disappear at any second.

He couldn't let that happen.

You were finally in his arms, exactly where he wanted you. The butterflies started to flutter once more as soon as he felt your presence next to him. You were, after all, his to hold, feed, care for, and protect—his beautiful forbidden obsession.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x male reader #professor au #x male reader #august walker #henry cavill #black reader #dark fanfiction #henry cavill angst #henry cavill smut #buckyshusband0fics #black male reader #henry cavill x reader smut #henry cavill fanfiction

[littlefreya]

Summary: Revenge is a dish best-served cold

Pairing: AU! Pirate August Walker x OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+. No smut, but sexual themes are mentioned, as well as dark themes - he is a pirate. Possible historical inaccuracy. This is not the real Blackbeard. Mentions of kidnapping.

A/N: Not beta’d. Many thanks to @agniavateira @luna-aestas and @wolvesandhoundshowltogether for the support, and thanks to @geralts-yenn because this story started as a 15-minute challenge, and I ended up writing a whole shot. There might be a part 2, and this might turn into a series. We will see after my anxiety runs its course :D

Thanks for reading, and please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :)

Neptune's Snare

The soggy wooden platform creaked beneath her feet as she climbed onto the main deck. Each step eliciting s husky wail - a sorrowful hymn to the lost maidens of the sea - those who would never return, those devoured by the sinful desires of monstrous captain August ‘Blackbeard’ Walker. 

Whatever madness drove women to go there willingly was beyond comprehension. No more than a tomb, the ship alone looked like a carnivorous maw; black iron spikes stood firmly at the bow, and the sheer size of it was enough to strike fear at the heart of even the bravest sailor.

Yet, there she was, draped in a black velvet cloak and an ivory corset dress, willingly marching toward grave danger. 

Dozens of ragged men welcomed her onboard, filthy scoundrels, all drenched in an exotic mixture of sweat and alcohol. Hungry, their eyes gnawed at her tender flesh, but none would dare touch her. If August’s crew knew one thing, it’s that some fates are much, much more worse than death. 

It didn’t stop them from taunting. Suckling their lips, they followed the girl on her march toward the captain’s cabin. Cheer and chortle in their voice as they imagined the obscenities their captain was about to perform on this naive girl. 

“Pity, he never let us look…” whined one of the pirates while the other bood.

“Aye, you mad to come ‘er tonight. The cap’n hasn’t had his fill in weeks, lass. He would sure pillage each of you’ holes tonight.”

“He gonna paint her full of his sea foam!”

The entire ship roared with their laughter. The girl, however, kept a blank face and, without spending any minute longer, opened the door to the captain's cabin.                                                                                                                                                

Bright, golden luminance blinded Lizette’s sight as she entered the cabin. The walls were plated by ornaments made of gold, reflecting the sparkle of the hundred candles that burnt at the decorated candelabras and crystal chandelier. Fine works of art hung from each wall, and on a vast lacquered table stood a plethora of delicacies that made Lizette’s belly gurgle. 

She stared at the table momentarily, almost fooled by the obvious seduction. In complete opposite to the murky exterior of the ship, the captain’s chamber was a room fit for kings, sputtering style, elegance and riches. Perhaps this was how he lured them. The poor naive girls truly believed he would give them a better life. But Blackbeard was no king, nor was he a gentleman. He was the deadliest man the world has ever known - a serpent, nightshade - all he could give a woman was death. 

“Take off your cowl.”  

A deep voice called from behind, dark and mysterious as the ocean. It struck like an icy shard through her spine, making her shoulders jerk and stiffen. It was odd to know someone by hundred of myths and stories spun around them and have men mimic their voice in an attempt to portray them but never know what they truly sounded like. 

As it turned out, August sounds like a man one doesn’t refuse. 

Obedient, Lizette pulled the cowl from her head - slow as she would unwrap a much-anticipated present. Her gaze kept to the floor still, continuing to play the coy virgin the Captain wanted her to be, though if she had to be honest - she was terrified of whatever hideous monster she would soon have to face. 

There must have been a reason why the women who came here never left. Lizette was willing to bet every dime in her pocket that August was the most gruesome, repulsive creature, and the only way for him to keep people from knowing was by murdering each woman he bedded!    

“Shy, aren’t we?” Blackbeard murmured with a dry chuckle and began to circle her, observing his bounty from side to side.

“I quite enjoy shy,” he chuckled once more, his voice almost a groan. 

She forced herself not to flinch too much. She could sense his glare upon her, stripping her garment by garment, weighing what he earned tonight and considering all the ways in which he would pillage her body. It made her feel like she was one of the delicacies that rested on his table rather than a person. 

After gyrating around her and inspecting each crease of her body, August finally returned to his starting spot behind her and, in a low, delighted groan, demanded, “Turn around.” 

Doing as he commanded, she turned to him, still keeping her glance plastered to the floor, her breathing now shallow as the air in the room grew magically stuffy. She could spot his blurry silhouette from the corner of her eye; a tall and fit man, rather broad. It seemed that he was doing a loose white cotton shirt and dark trousers, and from his waistband - a gleam of silver winked back. 

“Are you a mute?” 

Another chill shot through her as he spoke. Absentminded, she swallowed. “No…”  embarrassingly, her voice cracked; she took a deep breath and reprimanded, “No, sir. Just nervous.”

“Captain,” he corrected. 

Lizette nodded but did not repeat him. She couldn’t. Words died on her tongue as the Captain made a bold step toward her, drawing dangerously near. He paused for a shy second, fingers laced together, contemplating, before he reached a fist beneath her chin and, in a ceremonious tenderness, lifted her chin.  

The air drained from her completely. Her lips parted in a mixture of fear and astonishment. 

It couldn’t be.

Perhaps she had the wrong man?

Grey, ocean-eyes peered at her through a face that women and men would damn themselves for. No! Even angels would. His jaw was sharp and profound, statuesque like cut marble - dashed with dark stubble and a thick raven-black moustache. His lips, though chafed from the salty sea breeze, were plumped and shaped to be kissed, and while some of his curls were streaked with silver, he still had a healthy mane of hair on his head. 

‘He could have been a decent man,’ she thought, ‘and yet he chose this?!’

There was an obscure attractive melancholy to his looks - almost tragic. 

August took another moment to study her face, a frown slowly forming on his ridged brow. “You look familiar…”

“I work the docks,” she answered almost immediately.

His stare deepened, eyes dropping to her cleavage momentarily before returning to pierce back into the back of her skull, “Skin too soft. Too shy to be a prostitute.” 

His fingers wrapped around her chin, caging it between his thumb and his index in a tight grip, making it hurt. He tilted his head, daring her to come up with another lie.  

“The tavern,” Lizette answered, firm and steadfast. She did not flinch from his touch, even though every instinct begged her to.

“And you came to me. Why?”

“What girl wouldn’t give everything for a night with the notorious Captain Blackbeard? The living legend… the king of pirates.” She softened her eyes as much as possible and offered a shy pout to reconcile him. 

August chewed on the inside of his cheek; storm clouds gathered on his pale eyes as he contemplated. They both knew she was flattering him to gain his trust and save her pretty little neck. It wasn’t a situation he hadn’t encountered in the past. They both also knew that he was stronger, bigger and armed and could snap said pretty little neck in less than a split second. 

“Are you a virgin?” He proceeded. 

She nodded, her throat clenching. 

August lingered on her response and, after what felt like an eternity, offered a small grin and pinched her chin sweetly as if to praise her before moving a step closer. Lizette smiled back nervously. She could sense his rum-drenched breath on her face. The scent was so pungent it made her moan invulnerably. 

Or perhaps it was the anxiety that was eating into her heart. 

“Ever sucked a cock, pet?” 

His question was answered by a small click that echoed through the quarter and the press of hard, cold metal against the bare parts of his chest. 

Not stepping back, he slowly, almost theatrically, spread his arms into a gesture of defeat while peering at the girl. No rage nor fear painted his face, and as he spoke, there was neither surprise in his voice. 

“Heh. So you ARE a whore.”

Lizette held the pistol determined, not saying a word.

“What is it that I do, pet?” 

Offering a sly grin, the pirate pressed against the barrel; the oceans in his glare darkened. As Lizette stared back, she could have sworn the many shades of blue in his sights shifted and swayed like angry waves. Quickly brushing the thought away, she cocked the gun in a warning, her little thumb grazing the trigger.

But to August, it was clear that the girl had never killed anyone before, and the longer she stalled, the more shaky her hand became. Taunting, he moved further into the barrel, which forced her to take a step back. 

“Do not move closer!” She finally spoke. 

August brushed her warning away, moving forward instead. He had been so nimble in his movement, fluid, like a sea creature himself. Only now she realised that his hands were no longer in the air. 

“Was it your dear mother?” He suggested. “Father? Sister?” He paused and offered a vicious smirk, “Ah… I see, A lover. Well, to that, I surely deserve to die. Go ahead, pet, pull the trigger.” 

His slender, heavily ringed fingers reached to envelop the barrel, holding the pistol steady for the girl. Every breath he took pressed the metal harder against his sternum. Lizette could sense his heartbeat pulsating through the barrel, the thrum of his blood nearly mingling with her own. No longer steady, her digit quivered around the trigger and in her throat, she felt the strenuous hold of anger, guilt and hatred. 

“You have taken everything from me!” She simply answered. 

Soon her sight became blurry, and wetness gathered beneath her eyes.  

‘Do it, do it now.’ 

Another click sounded in the room. Louder than the cocking of a gun. 

Lizette’s eyes flared in shock, and before she could pull the trigger, August had carefully veered the gun from his chest and, in a tenderness that was accustomed to lovers, snatched it from her hand. His other hand laid still on her neck, fastening the iron collar he granted her.

“Good girl,” he teased and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the forehead of the girl who was too struck by her own misfortune and stupidity to react. 

With the pistol safely placed in his waistband, the pirate stepped back, face alighted, eyes sparkling with starlight cascade, like a child who had just earned a new toy.  He clasped his hands together, ecstatic; thick silver rings chiming as they collided.

 “I haven’t taken everything from you, pet. but I am going to…”

With one last slanted grin, the pirate turned on his heels and marched toward the door, not bothering to bid farewell as he left and locked the door behind him.

Panicked, Lizette reached her hands to the iron collar, desperately trying to pry it off her neck despite knowing there was no logic in pulling at the heavy metal. 

“Please!” Tears trickled down her cheeks and chin, “no! No! No! Please!”

Through the open window, she could hear the captain's voice barking orders, commanding his men to lift anchor and set sail. 

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x ofc #AU!August Walker #Pirate August Walker #Pirate Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x reader

[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (1)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, extortion, mentions of character's death, mentions of a cheating husband, degrading, groping, implied mentions of prostitution

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

They look like kings sitting on their plush chairs as you tremble in front of them.

In reality, they are wolves, with sharp teeth and claws ready to rip you apart.

One of them with thick and luscious curls and a thick beard, and the other one shares the same features with neatly styled hair and a mustache.

Walter Marshall and August Walker.

Both are equally pretty and deadly at the same time. Gods amongst mere humans. 

Their blue eyes sparkle as you try to find your voice. 

You’re a pitiful sight to them. A broke woman, with no hope, or money left.

All thanks to your useless and unfaithful husband. 

He recently passed away and left more than a hole in your heart. Six digits of debt are now yours to pay.

“I-“You drop your gaze and swallow thickly. You wring your hands, wincing as you miss your wedding band and engagement ring. “I sold my rings and all the jewelry I own.”

“How much do you have for us, mouse?” One of the wolves gets up to stand in front of you. He roughly wraps his large hand around your throat, thumb brushing over your windpipe. “I could easily break you.” He smirks, as your eyes widen in fear. “Maybe I will.”

“August,” the other wolf slowly gets up to place his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We talked about impulse control, brother.”

“Ha! Do you want to tell me something about impulse control? Brother, you are the incarnation of impatience and easily loose control.”

You shrink into yourself. Crowded by both of them you feel even smaller and vulnerable. Your legs are about to give in, and you wince anytime their eyes land on you.

“I sold the car and his golf clubs,” you whisper, not daring to speak louder. “The house…I couldn’t sell it. The bank will take it.”

“You will learn that I hate repeating myself,” August flashes you a devilish grin. “So, how much do you have for us?”

“Eight thousand and fifty dollars,” you sniff. “I know it’s not much, but I’ll pay every buck he owes you back.” Your fingers tremble when you get the envelope with the money out of your pocket.

“Aw, look at her,” Walter coos to mock you. “She’s already trembling for me, brother.” He lifts your chin with his index finger. “Look at me, lamb.” He leaves no room for arguments when he intensely stares at you. “Good girl.” Walter praises when you hold his gaze for a few seconds.

“I wonder what else she has to offer.” While Walter cups your chin to tilt your head, August circles you like prey. “Tell me, mouse.” He whispers in your ear. “Is this cunt tight?”

“What?” You splutter, while tears well up to your eyes. You struggle to breathe. These men treat you like a piece of meat, not a person. All they have in mind is getting their money back. And they don’t care how you pay them back.

“We have a club,” August slaps your ass hard enough to bring more tears to your eyes. “Maybe you can work a dick to pay us back our money.”

“Brother, I don’t think this pussy is worth five-hundred thousand bucks,” Walter tuts, but his eyes drop to your chest. “Maybe she can ride my dick and I give her fifty bucks every time she swallows me.”

“Mouse, what do you say?” August places his hand on your shoulder. “I let you ride dick at my club, and you pay me back my money this way. Or do you want to ride his dick for the rest of your pitiful life?”

“No…” You shake your head. “You can kill me, but I won’t work at your club.” You have a little self-respect left. Even if these beautiful monsters hold your life in their hands, you won’t stoop even lower and sell your body to random men. 

“She’s got some fight left, August,” Walter smirks darkly at your predicament. You try to put a brave face on, but he can see the fear in your eyes. “So, lamb. How do you wanna pay us back our money if you don’t work his customers dicks?”

“I don’t know,” you sniff. “I’ll find a way. Even if it’s not my fault you lend money to my deceased husband. I didn’t know about any of this. He never told me about his problems or that he ate some other bitch’s pussy.”

“Walter, I think we got a cocky mouse,” August wraps his hand around your throat from behind to tilt your head. He forces you to look at him, making you wince in pain. “If I tell you to ride dick, you ask which hole my customer wants to fill.”

“August,” Walter tuts. “I think she’s too mousy for your club.” You hear August sigh deeply behind you. “I like me some shy mouse. They are best at sucking dick.”

“She owes us both, not only you.”

“If she works at the club we will never get it back!” Walter grunts. “If you give her to me, I’ll have a nice kitten to play with.” His features darken and he wraps his hand around his brother’s wrist. “We both know she’ll never be able to pay us back.”

“I’ll pay back every buck,” you croak. “Please…” You start to cry. “It’s not my fault he died and left me nothing but trouble and debts. I would’ve sold the house to give you the money.”

August huffs. He’s not in the mood to waste more time on you. “Have her for tonight. I want her at the club tomorrow!”

Walter glances at your quivering lips. He’s mesmerized by the sight of your fear. In his line of business, people mostly fear him. But he never was enchanted by one of the faceless people he tormented in the past. “No.”

“No?” August cracks his neck and gets ready for another fight with his brother. “Please enlighten me, Walter. How do you intend on getting the money back if you keep her?”

“I was looking for someone to share my lonely nights with,” Walter grins down at you. “She’s not too bad to look at and knows how to shut her mouth. I don’t like the mouthy bitches you wanted to share lately. All they have in mind are clothes, social media, and money.”

“Oh,” August drops his hand from your neck. He pinches your ass, making you jump. “You want to share the mouse?”

“I bet, she will look pretty stuffed with two big cocks,” Walter dips his head to glance at his brother. “Do you remember the cute little thing in Dublin? The one we found at the pub?”

“She squeaked like a mouse when we punched her pussy with our cocks,” August groans deeply. “She was tight but lacked endurance. I bet this one won’t pass out on us when we use her all night long.”

“Right, lamb?” Walter cups your chin again, “You will be a good girl for us. Did you ever cum on two cocks at the same time?”

Your eyes widen, and you feel an icy shiver run down your spine. These men see nothing but a body they can use in you.

You are trapped with them in their territory and scared shitless. Still, your panties dampen at the thought of them using you to their liking.

“She just pressed her legs together.” Walter drops his hand from your chin and steps away. He admires your trembling form for a moment, drinking every micro-expression in. “I bet she’s a little brainless slut.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#august walker #walter marshall #Between a rock and a hard place (1) #mafia au #angst #mobster!walter marshall #mobster!august walker #henry cavill fandom

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blind Offer 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Lloyd Hansen, and August Walker

Note: I wish this week would be over.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

The checkered fabric beckons you forward. Your fear smothers all doubts. You're in no place to question any of this. What will they do if you don't listen? Who are they? The voice that comes from thin air. Certainly Steve too.

You touch the dress and move it aside to unveil the small lumps beneath. A set of red lace lingerie to match the shade of the checkers. You swallow tightly and pull your hand back. You look at your fingertips as if they've been singed. 

You tremble and touch the hem of your shirt. They're watching. You shudder and slowly raise the cotton. You try not to think about what's happening. Just get through it.

You drop your shirt on the bed them quickly push down your sweatpants. You heap them atop the tee and close your eyes as you peel off your underwear. You sniffle as you don the red lingerie and figure out how to tie the little string at the waist of the dress.

Your eye is caught by the shiny red shape at the foot of the bed. A pair of heels. It's not hard to guess you're supposed to put them on.

There's a chime, the same jingle as before. You spin as you search around and tinkles again. It's coming from downstairs. You clamour out into the hall and cling to the banister as you descend. You go back to the kitchen and read the screen.

'Check your phone.'

Your heart leaps. You trip over your toes but keep upright as you run into the front room. You go to your phone but deflate in an instant. There's a video pulled up on it and nothing else. No status bar, no time. What the heck?

A message pops up over the paused video thumbnail, a woman's eye up close. You read the font in the bubble before it disappears.

'Upstairs bathroom. Press play. You'll know what to do.'

You lower the phone. Right. Not cryptic at all. You teeter on your heels before you can gain your balance again. You clop out and to the stairs. You take off the shoes before your climb and keep them in hand as you skirt down to the bathroom.

As you enter, there's a sparkly pink case on the counter. That wasn't there before either. You put the shoes on the tile and lean your phone against the mirror, leaning it just so before you tap play. You twine your fingers through each other as a beaming woman smiles at you from the screen. She welcomes you to her video with her cherry red lips and expertly lined eyes.

"Today, we're going to learn how to get the perfect look!" She chimes and frames her face, "so first, lets go over our tools."

She smiles so big, her cheeks are round, almost twitching as her eyes bulge just slightly. She lifts up a small bottle. 

"Let's go over our base..."

She lists off the items, showing each to the camera. You reach to open the case as you listen, revealing a collection of cosmetics. Wow. You keep a few essentials, tinted moisturizer, some mascara, a touch of gloss, but nothing too substantial.

She presses on, going through everything you'll need for eye, lip, and cheek. When she finishes, she smiles even wider and stares. The camera lingers a bit too long and the hollowness in her eyes unsettles you.

"But first, we have to start with a naked face. Let's go!"

She claps her hands in front of her and the shot transitions. Suddenly, her face is barren of makeup. You notice the fatigue under her eyes and the vibrancy missing in her skin. She looks above the lens and her lips quiver. She gives a small nod and clears her throat, as if distracted by someone else.

"Alright, let's begin," her voice creaks at first but she quickly steadies it, "are you ready?"

You feel icky watching the video. You're not ready. This is demented. This cannot be real. It's a horror movie come to life.

"Find your primer," she presents a tube proudly, waiting. 

You look down and search for a similar tube. You shake your head as you take it out and look back to the screen. She starts by showing you where exactly to apply the primer. You hesitate. The video on your phone pauses and another message pops up.

'I can wait, doll.'

You inhale and lean in. You focus on the screen and the video skips back ten seconds. You uncap the primer and follow along with the application. The longer you look at the woman, the more you notice. That mark on her neck, a patch darker than the rest of her skin.

She moves on to foundation. The video pauses again as you struggle to find the right bottle and a clean sponge. Then concealer, and some blush, bronzer, and highlighter. You're starting to sweat.

"And that's the base," she preens, tilting her head back and forth to show the effect of her contouring, "isn't that pretty?"

She stops, smiling, staring. The shot cuts again. She pulls her hand away from her chest and bats her lashes.

"N-now," she stutters, "now, we have to do our eyes." She leans closer to the lens and you notice the slightly puffiness in the brims of her eyelids, "remember, we don't want to mess this up. We have some nice waterproof products to make sure we stay perfect, from morning to night." She looks up, above the frame, "we don't want to be crying it all off because we had one bad day, right?

"Now, I'm going to try a nice shade of gold for today's look but you can really be creative. Go wild and choose whatever you like. But nothing too loud, we don't want to scare him away."

She winks at the camera in a theatrical manner. You take out a palette and lower your head. You can't move. You're frozen. This is too much. There's something just off about all of this.

"What kind of Stepford bullshit--"

The video stops. Another pop up. You peek up at it. There's only two big red exes in the bubble. Alright, fine. You open the palette and pick out a brush. The video resumes. You really hope this stuff is waterproof because you're about to have a goddamn breakdown.

You get closer to the mirror as you work on applying the shadow. You go with a subtle caramel and amber combination. You're not very good at it but the instructions are easy enough. Nothing too difficult as long as you keep up.

You finish the eye after fighting the liner. You're starting to get the hang of it. Wait. No. That's not a victory. You don't want this.

Eyebrows. Do you really need to do all this? Right, now lips. You take out the candy apple red and delicate trace the shape of your mouth. Finally, a setting spray that nearly makes you sneeze.

"And that's it. You're all done," the woman announces, "you're ready to--"

The screen cuts. The image of the woman with her makeup smeared covers the screen for a split second then disappears to a credit screen, congratulating you on completing the the look. You gape, stunned, and take a step back. Alright, this is twisted.

The video exits out and you're left only with a blank screen. The next message takes over the expanse; kitchen. You grab the phone and take it with you, swiping up the shoes as you go.

Downstairs, you plop the shoes down and face the Echo as it chimes again. Your next directive is on the screen. A timer that reads 'Dinner, t-minus 2 hours'. You hear the television mounted in the corner flick on and you turn to see the same woman as before.

"Hello. Welcome. It's good to see you." She puts her hands on the counter, staring again. She flinches. "Please, don't make--" The video cuts. "Today!" She points at the camera, "we're going to make a classic; meatloaf."

You walk closer to the screen. There's something wrong with this woman. This isn't Rachel Ray or Martha Stewart. This is horrifying. She pauses, nodding, her smile getting bigger, than falling, and spreading again. It's as if she's glitching.

Another jarring switch. She's by the fridge, speaking intimately as the camera is angled down at her.

"So, let's get our ingredients, ladies," she announces, "now, we can go with lean turkey if we're being mindful or we can go with a classic beef." She reaches inside and takes out a paper packet, "nice and fresh."

The screen pauses on her hands. There's a broken nail among her perfectly manicured hands. You back up and drop your shoulders. You drag your feet to the fridge and pull out the ground beef in the same brownish red paper. The video starts again.

You put the beef on the counter and wait for the next ingredient. One buy one you get everything out. Then you get your tools, bowls, pans, knives. You admire the long silver blade as it slides free of the block.

"It's important," the woman chirps from the screen, "not to play with knives..  you could get hurt."

You look up as she holds up a knife and shakes her head. You frown as she grabs the blade and slides her palms down it, leaving a red sheen on the silver.

"See? Always be safe," she grips the knife by the handle as her blood drips onto the counter. "Lets prepare our veggies first–"

The blip is less than subtle. Her hand is suddenly wrapped in cause thought the drops of blood remain on the cutting board. You put the onion on the wooden surface and dice along with the happy host.

The step-by-step directions keep you occupied enough to ignore the tremor of fear inside you. Your thoughts fade to background as you pull the lid off the breadcrumbs. You work through the recipe mindlessly until you have the meat neatly in the loaf pan.

As you open the oven door, that small voice of logic breaks through. Who are you cooking this for? It's an awful lot of food for just you.

"Now we can work on our sides," the woman sings, "roasted potatoes and charred asparagus."

🖤

You stand before the table. It’s set precisely to the standard set by the woman on the screen. Cutlery, cloth napkins, tall glasses, and a jug of iced lemon water. 

The timer counts down and dings. You rush over to hit clear and grab the oven gloves. You take out the pan of meatloaf, then the roast potatoes. You place them carefully on the stove. It smells delicious but your appetite is scant. You’re not very concerned with food at the moment.

You wince as the television flicks on again and the woman holds a spatula and talks to the camera, almost as if she’s talking directly to you. 

“Now, it’s time to plate dinner,” she explains, “now I know, it’s just meatloaf, but it doesn’t mean we can’t spruce it up. Let’s begin by slicing the loaf.”

You huff and push your head back. This is a chore. You don’t think you’ve ever put this much effort into a meal. 

“We want to make our romantic dinner for two perfect,” she chimes as she sets out two plates, “for our very special someone. The most handsome man…”

She bats her lashes as she gives another tense smile. Forced and frightening. The camera slowly pans in before suddenly pulling back. You blow off the unease and open the cupboard.

You once more follow along with the knock off Julia Child. You get two plates set, the meat placed just so, the potatoes scooped out in delicate measurements, the asparagus lines up neatly. You put each plate on a table mat and take a step back. 

So, what next?

Ding dong.

The loud chime makes you jump. You don’t move. You wait and listen until it comes again. The doorbell?

You turn on your heel and pass into the entryway. As you do, the door opens from the other side. Your lips part in shock as Steve steps inside, greeting you with a smile as the security system alerts you to the open door and secures again as he lets it fall shut behind him. You clasp your hands together, questions racing but no words coming.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he smiles, “you look…” his eyes fall to your feet. “Adequate.”

You follow his gaze and curl one foot behind the other. You left the heels off. You suppose that was wrong. Wait, no, this is wrong. What he’s doing is wrong.

“Excuse me?” You scoff.

“Dinner smells good,” he smooths his golden hair. 

He wears a crisp white button-up and gray pin-striped slacks. You grimace at him and cross your arms. He comes closer, stopping before you as he reaches to touch your cheek. You wince and lean away from him.

“You shouldn’t scowl. You’ll get wrinkles,” he says.

“Wha– Steve. What is going on?”

He presses his index finger to your lips, “ah ah. I came for dinner. Let’s not chatter and let it get cold.”

You step back and glare at him, “Steve, what are you doing? Please, let me go.”

“Honey, let’s not argue,” he comes close and grabs your upper arms, pulling them apart, “you won’t like how it ends.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Meatloaf,” he turns his head and looks towards the kitchen, “it’s my favourite.”

You’re upended by his sudden change in topic. It’s frustrating how he just ignores you. You want to know why he’s doing this. How can he even think of something like this. He can’t. Someone will come looking for you.

No one knows where you are. You didn’t tell them.

“Don’t keep me waiting, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice as he leans in, “I’ve waited long enough.”

You look up at him, shaken by his tone. You’ve never heard him sound like that. You feel his grip tighten on you. 

“Go get your shoes and we’ll sit down and have a nice dinner.”

“Steve,” you croak.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. He smirks and lifts his lashes, blue eyes gleaming like crystals, “don’t you remember what I said. How I like order. How things should be in their place. How everyone has their role.”

You scrunch your nose. You remember. It was weird then, now it’s terrifying.

“Yes,” you rasp, “I remember.”

“You don’t want me to be unhappy, do you?” He challenges, his thumbs rubbing your arms.

You shake your head stiffly, ready to wilt beneath his gaze. “No, I don’t.”

“Good girl,” he slides his hands down your arms and slowly retracts his touch, “so, let’s eat.”

#steve rogers #august walker #bucky barnes #lloyd hansen #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark august walker #dark lloyd hanse #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!august walker #dark!lloyd hansen #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #blind offer #multifandom #captain america #winter soldier #avengers #mcu #marvel #mission impossible: fallout #the gray man

[deliciousangelfestival]

Secret Sorrows || 4 -B.Barnes

Summary: Former special ops, Bucky, seeks solace in a cold refuge to escape his past. However, his haunted history catches up, unraveling mysteries that persist relentlessly.

Series Masterlist

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Monday. It was the first day of the week, a day that dawned not just for the adults who had to rise early for work, but also for the children.

Ethan grumpily buttoned up his school uniform shirt, realizing it was time for him to continue his studies. His mood soured further as he watched his aunt, who didn't utter a word to him, only stroking his hair before slipping into her car.

He crossed his arms and puffed his cheeks in frustration. Couldn't she at least say something to him?

From the rear window of the car, Bucky caught sight of Ethan's grumpy expression, likening him to a disgruntled hamster.

"I thought you liked to study?" Bucky asked, noting how diligently Ethan applied himself to his studies. Despite being just seven years old, Ethan focused intensely like his aunt.

If it weren't for the butler placing their meals in front of them, Bucky mused, both Ethan and Y/N might only eat once a day.

Ethan replied, "It's great, but I don't like the kids. They're childish."

Bucky nearly choked on his surprise. Of course, the other children were childish; it was an elementary school.

As their car arrived at the private school, where attendance was reserved for children with influential parents or those who had made significant donations, the security measures were top-notch, with some students even accompanied by their own bodyguards. Bucky noted with a raised eyebrow that the school even employed a sniper.

Straightening his shirt and adjusting his bag, Ethan muttered, "Here we go."

Offering reassurance, Bucky said, "I'll be nearby if you need anything."

"Okay," Ethan replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

Entering his classroom, Ethan was immediately surrounded by classmates offering their condolences. Bucky observed from a distance, noting Ethan's warmth and camaraderie with his peers, silently relieved that Ethan had good friends by his side.

Soon, Bucky discovered the reason behind Ethan's reluctance to attend school. In fencing class, a taller boy from another grade, Greyson, regarded Ethan as his rival, though Ethan didn't share the same sentiment.

Greyson constantly challenged Ethan, but Ethan, still grappling with some underlying trauma, found himself unable to respond.

Sensing Ethan's distress, Bucky intervened, only for Greyson to call upon his own bodyguard, escalating the situation further.

The clash between the bodyguards began. Bucky, unfamiliar with fencing techniques, relied instead on his instinctual combat skills. Despite Ethan's doubts about Bucky's abilities in fencing, Bucky couldn't afford to lose this battle today.

Disregarding the rules of the sport, Bucky unleashed his full capabilities, catching Greyson's bodyguard off guard. With a swift motion, Bucky's final attack sent the fencing sword hurtling through the air, narrowly missing embedding itself in the thick wall.

The spectators, including Greyson, watched in awe and fear, while Ethan's admiration for Bucky only grew.

Greyson, now intimidated, pointed a trembling finger at Bucky. "I’ll tell my father."

Bucky simply stood tall, his expression unyielding, ready to face whatever consequences lay ahead.

Because of Greyson, Bucky found himself in the same situation again, standing before Y/N. This time, however, she wasn't preoccupied with signing documents; instead, her focus was entirely on him. Bucky knew this meant he was in big trouble.

The situation reminded him of the time he and Iris were called to the supervisor's office and punished together.

Y/N placed her hands together before her lips, her expression unreadable. She had been on a conference call from abroad when she heard about Ethan's situation.

The silence made Bucky nervous until she finally uttered some words. “The last time it was the swimming coach, and now do you want to tell me why the senator is blaming my nephew's bodyguard for making his son cry?”

Bucky responded, his tone respectful but firm, “With all due respect, those children trying to bully Ethan are not just kids, but devil spawn.”

Y/N's secretary, Marie, coughed awkwardly upon hearing Bucky's words, while Y/N remained silent, her lips quirking into a small smirk. “You're always a troublemaker, aren't you?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why did she say “always”? Once again, she left him feeling puzzled.

Y/N continued, her tone surprisingly lenient, “I'll let it go this time. The senator didn't make this a big deal since he knows Van Alen is one of his main sponsors.”

Bucky had expected her to be angry, but her reaction caught him off guard.

“If something like this happens again,” Y/N warned, her voice firm, “handle it quietly.”

Bucky smirked confidently. “Of course.” With that, he left her office.

Marie couldn't help but glance at the closed door. “You're too kind to him. Is it because he's handsome?”

Y/N shot her a glare that silenced Marie immediately.

Returning her attention to her work, Y/N picked up a pen and began signing a document. “Is everything prepared for dinner?” she asked casually.

Marie checked her tablet. “Yup, the food and beverages are ready, including your and Ethan's outfits.”

Ethan paced back and forth, his expression troubled, his mind consumed with worry about his bodyguard. Spotting Bucky, he rushed over to him. “Bro, is my aunt mad at you?”

Bucky shook his head. “Not really.”

A relieved sigh escaped Ethan's lips. “You're my bodyguard, but I always worry when my aunt calls you.”

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle softly at the boy's concern. Then, his gaze fell upon a semi-formal dress adorning a mannequin inside Ethan's wardrobe.

“Are you going somewhere? I didn't see it in your schedule,” Bucky inquired, curious about the unexpected attire.

Ethan turned to look at the mannequin. “Oh, my aunt has a guest coming for dinner.”

“Who?” Bucky asked, intrigued.

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. “Don't know. Usually, it was my parents who welcomed the guests.” His voice quivered slightly as he mentioned his parents, the pain of their absence still raw.

Bucky felt a pang of sympathy for the boy's loss. “Do you want to join the dinner?” he offered, hoping to provide some comfort.

Ethan nodded eagerly. “It's the only time I get to be with my aunt.”

Bucky sighed inwardly, his heart aching for the strained relationship between Ethan and Y/N. When would things get better for them?

********

At dinner time, Bucky discovered that Y/N had already welcomed the guest, and it was time for Ethan to join the table. As they approached, both Bucky and Ethan finally saw who the guest was. Bucky had expected someone older, but to his surprise, the guest was around the same age—a young man named Duke August Walker.

Ethan murmured, “He’s Duke August Walker,” informing Bucky of the guest's identity. August Walker was an oil tycoon whose company collaborated with Van Alen.

He had become acquainted with both families, and there were rumors of his interest in Y/N, which she had apparently declined.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly in recognition. August Walker— the name stirred memories. Bucky remembered him from their school days; they had attended the same school. He recalled their encounters, but their paths had never crossed closely.

Observing Y/N and August chuckling together, Bucky couldn't shake off a twinge of jealousy. He didn't understand why he felt that way, but the sight bothered him.

Walker noticed Ethan's arrival and greeted him warmly. "Hey there, big guy," he said, fist-bumping Ethan.

Ethan reciprocated the greeting politely before taking a seat near Y/N. Meanwhile, Bucky remained standing outside the dining room, still able to overhear their conversation.

Y/N engaged Ethan in conversation, their interaction warm and familial.

Observing their aunt and nephew interaction, Walker commented, “Now I understand why you didn’t answer my call.”

Y/N shot him a look. “You have a problem with that?” she countered.

Walker chuckled, unfazed. “No. In fact, I’m impressed you’re starting to act like a normal human.”

Ethan's grip on his utensils tightened as he hissed at August, clearly displeased by the remark.

Walker laughed softly before changing the subject. “Do you have any plans to send Ethan to Vanguard Academy?” he asked Y/N.

Bucky's breath hitched when he heard that name—the same Academy he and Iris attended. It was the place that had become his sanctuary when he felt alone in the world. There, he learned valuable lessons about skills, friendship, love, heartbreak, and betrayal.

The mention of Vanguard Academy stirred up a mix of emotions within Bucky. He disagreed with the idea of Ethan attending the academy, feeling that he was too young for such an environment.

While the academy catered to students from kindergarten to high school, most of the younger students lived in the same area. If Ethan were to study there, he would have to be separated from Y/N—a prospect that Bucky found unsettling.

As for Ethan, he had heard about the academy from his mother. He had seen her photo from her days as a student there. Although his mother didn't speak much about the institute, it was evident that she harbored some dislike towards it.

Ethan didn't want to live far away; he was afraid, especially after hearing his Aston family's grandfather mention their plans to send him to Vanguard Academy a few times.

Y/N responded to Walker's suggestion with firmness. “He doesn’t fit into that place. Who do you think you are to even consider sending my nephew?”

Walker raised his arms defensively. “Whoops, don’t get mad. I only mentioned it because Iris seemed to have the time of her life there.”

Y/N wiped her mouth with a napkin, her expression unreadable. “Do you want to discuss my nephew or business?” she asked pointedly.

Walker shifted uncomfortably. “You’re really different from Iris. But your business instinct is top-notch,” he remarked, attempting to steer the conversation back towards business.

The remainder of the evening passed in a flurry of business discussions between the adults, their voices filling the room with a serious undertone. After Duke August Walker departed, Y/N decided to check on Ethan.

Ethan, feeling the weight of sleepiness settling upon him, ran eagerly to his aunt, his arms outstretched in a silent plea for comfort. The weariness seemed to dissipate from his demeanor as he looked up at her with hopeful eyes, seeking solace in her presence.

Y/N raised a quizzical eyebrow at Ethan's sudden request for a hug. "What are you doing?" she inquired, her tone laced with curiosity.

"Please, give me a hug," Ethan implored softly, his voice tinged with a hint of longing.

Y/N regarded him with a mixture of confusion and tenderness, unsure of what had prompted this sudden need for affection. Nevertheless, she couldn't resist the innocence in his request.

Before she could utter another word, Ethan rushed into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. His warmth enveloped her, momentarily melting away the worries of the day.

Y/N's initial stiffness softened as she returned the embrace, though uncertainty still lingered in her movements. She wasn't accustomed to such displays of affection, especially from Ethan.

As they stood in the embrace, Ethan's voice barely above a whisper, he confessed, "I miss my mother."

Y/N felt a pang in her heart at his words, her own emotions mirroring his sorrow. She wished she could fill the void left by his mother's absence, but she knew she could never truly replace her.

In an attempt to offer some comfort, Y/N gently stroked his back, her touch tentative yet comforting. "Go to your room. I’ll read a bedtime story for you," she promised, her voice soft and reassuring.

Ethan's eyes brightened with gratitude at her offer. "Really?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Y/N nodded, a small smile gracing her lips, and Ethan hurried off to his room, eager to prepare for their nightly routine.

Meanwhile, as Bucky helped Ethan select a book from the shelf, he noticed a slip of paper fluttering to the ground. Curiosity piqued, he bent down to retrieve it, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized what it was—a photograph.

This was a photo of him and Iris back at the academy. And why did Ethan have this photo?

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Author Note :

Hey friends, I've set up a Ko-fi account if you've been enjoying the content.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bodyguard #bodyguard au #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #the winter soldier #august walker x reader #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #sebastian stan characters

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Club Reading Order

The Duff, Nightlife, and Carpe Noctem can be read on their own and thus I will not include them in this list. Cause of Action can be read on its own but should be read after The Duff.

Find the AU Masterlist here.

*this is only a recommended order, meaning that some parts overlap but events should align relatively chronologically.

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 1 

Mise en Place ♡ Part 1 

Wasted ✫ Part 1

Black Light ✧ Part 1

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 2 

Mise en Place ♡ Part 2

Wasted ✫ Part 2

Wasted ✫ Part 3 

Wasted ✫ Part 4 

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 3 

Mise en Place ♡ Part 3

Black Light ✧ Part 2 

Snake Eyes ☾ Part 4

Mise en Place ♡ Part 4

Black Light ✧ Part 3

Wasted ✫ Part 5 

Black Light ✧ Part 4

Wasted ✫ Part 6

#the club #au #drabble #reading order #alternate masterlist #masterlist #mcu #marvel #the gray man #defending jacob #the devil all the time #mission impossible: fallout #snowpiercer #curtis everett #lee bodecker #bucky barnes #thor #loki #august walker #andy barber #lloyd hansen #series #multifandom

[fallenangelkitten]

Examination

Synopsis: Professor Walker fantasizes about one of his students.

Warnings: au Professeur!August, August’s pov, mentions of oral, restraints, and penetration, presumed age gap, kind of stalker vibes?

Note: Read part two Obedience now :)

The auditorium was large and always seemed so hollow until the university’s students filled the seats. I was leaning against my broad desk, arms crossed over my chest as I watched them file into the room. I took a mental note of everyone who showed up while I waited for them to prepare for the lecture.

As I waited for her to stroll through the door.

I couldn’t help but wet my bottom lip as she made her way to her usual place; just to the right of my workspace, three rows up.

I pried my gaze from her and cleared my throat.

“Please turn your attention to the screen above,” I instructed before turning off most of the lights.

I dimmed them just enough for the students to still write notes on the documentary.

And for me to see her.

The glow of the film illuminated her pure little face. Her eyes so bright as she stared at the screen- so full of life I wanted so desperately to help her explore.

I could already picture her kneeling before me, those innocent eyes begging for me to allow her a taste. I wanted to run my thumb across her cheek and grasp her chin as she would take me into her lush mouth.

It took everything in me to stifle the groan emerging in my throat.

I ran a hand over my face, my mustache scratching my palm, and attempted to grade some past assignments. I tried to plan for future lectures. Fuck, I even tired watching the damn documentary myself.

But my attention always landed on her.

I took in how she wrote on that cute pink notebook of hers. The way her elegant wrist moved with each stroke of the pen she wielded.

I could practically feel the roughness of my favorite red rope in my hands. I wanted to fasten her wrists together in knots as beautiful as the skin they strained against.

My cock twitched against the now tight fabric of my trousers.

I wanted to secure them to- god, to anything while I devoured her body and soul. To taste her in every fucking way possible.

My heart skipped a beat when her eyes flicked over to mine. To feign disinterest took every ounce of my focus.

Even when my now throbbing length begged to feel her clench around me. To brush away that stray piece of hair that now fell over her eyes, only to grip it all into my fist while I fucked her.

Suddenly it was too quiet.

Fuck.

It wasn’t the first time I’d spent the entirety of the class gawking at her. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last.

I cleared my throat again to get their attention.

“Please fill out the questionnaire online,” I ordered while turning the auditorium lights back on.

She looked like an angel as they shown down on her.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡

summary - your married to august walker, and he finally comes home and greets you and your kids.

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

#imyourbratzdollwork #imyourbratzdollmasterlist #august walker #august walker x you #august walker imagine #august walker x reader #august walker x y/n #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #august walker fluff #august walker fic #august walker fanfic #august walker fandom #august walker imagines #august walker oneshot #august walker one shot #august walker angst #august walker au #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill imagine

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Masterlist (Complete)

Y'all know my drill. I have a new series I can't wait to share with you and you just have to tell me if you want it!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Series Summary: FBI Agent Dean Syverson is looking to take down one of the most notorious drug traffickers in Miami, August Walker. A stakeout leads to the revelation that Sy's long, lost high school girlfriend, the "one who got away" is now working for August. Can he get her out before it's too late?

A/N: I originally thought this would be DEA Agent!Syverson, but research pointed me in a different direction. Hope it doesn't disappoint.

Word Count: 33K

Series Warnings: Drug use, drug trafficking, smoking, alcohol, p in v sex in various positions (I can't name them all here; the whole thing's not written yet, but close!) threesome (MFF), light dom/sub behavior, past relationship pining, cheating (-ish?), world travel, special guests, and more! I'll try to update if anything comes up.

Playlist: As always

Taglist below the cut; if you are on it you will be tagged; please let me know if you want on/off and if you would like Everything or just this story:

Everything Henry: @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @feelmyroarrrr  @sweetdreamsofgelato  @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @dedicated-to-a-brit-and-a-scot @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1  @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @lizzystuffsthings

#walk with me teaser #fbi agent!syverson x ofc #drug czar!august walker x ofc #fbi agent!sy #drug czar!august walker #syverson au #august walker au #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #august walker #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #walk with me #deandoesthingstome

[pascaloverx]

DANGEROUS

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: You are a retired spy trying to live a normal life. Some time ago, a hired assassin named Tangerine tried to kill you. In response, you sought the help of an old acquaintance who could fake any death, August Walker. However, now your false identity is in jeopardy, along with your life.

Warnings: For now, the fanfic will not contain explicit content, but it will be flagged if it does in the future. However, there will be the use of strong language and moderate violence. Readers are advised. The characters August Walker and Tangerine do not belong to me but to their respective creators. Some other characters that belong to both Mission: Impossible (2018) and Bullet Train (2022) may appear in this fanfic. Other characters who are not part of these movies will be of my own creation. I hope you enjoy the reading.

chapter two

A dark night, too dark for your liking. You're the kind of person who prefers light to darkness, but life has taught you to adapt to your surroundings. Trained since adolescence, you became a great spy. Perhaps too great. One day, someone tried to kill you, and they almost succeeded. To this day, all you know about the hired assassin who nearly ended your life is his nickname. That's because he told you to thank the kindness of the tangerine or any other citrus fruit when you were in a hospital bed fighting for your life. In the end, he helped you. In order to disappear from the radar, you turned to a highly dangerous man named August Walker.

"Neighbor, you should come inside. It's too late for a young lady, even if you're a widow like yourself. Your husband surely wouldn't leave you alone, especially at this hour of the night." Mrs. Johnson speaks from the balcony of her house, which is a few houses before mine.

"In fact, my late husband didn't have much say in where I should go, regardless of the time, but thank you, Mrs. Johnson. I have a commitment with an old college friend, and I have to hurry to catch the last train." you say, trying to be falsely polite and quickening your pace; after all, you're really running late. Walker sent a message after two years of no contact. To be honest, you thought he was dead. But when a bouquet of red roses appeared on your fake late husband's grave, you knew. Walker needs you.

The cold night wind rustles the hem of your dress, which is neither too short nor too long. Fortunately, you decided to wear a coat that shields you from the excessive chill. The bouquet of roses marks the location of the meeting with Walker. In the city center, there is a flower shop named W. Flowers. Few know, but August is the heir to this florist. The new owner usually keeps the flower shop open until late at night, claiming it's for the sake of last-minute lovers. You hurriedly board the train, having purchased a ticket for the last available seat. Strangely, the seats next to and in front of you are empty. A chill runs down your spine. Something feels off-kilter. When you stand up, you see Walker entering the train with a dark overcoat that complements his expensive suit. He doesn't look directly at you; in fact, it's as if he's scanning every corner of the train before allowing his gaze to meet yours. Something is amiss. You act as if he is a stranger for much of the journey. He occupies the seat in front of you, indicating that he wants to observe you without interacting. A young woman with a child in her lap takes the seat next to August.

The train is about to depart, and no one has taken the seat beside you. You allow yourself to think that perhaps the passenger gave up the journey, or Walker intentionally bought this ticket, knowing that only the seat across from him would be left for you. You glance at him, and he seems uneasy. As always, his gaze says little. During the times you trained to become skilled spies, he was always praised for having a difficult-to-read or interpret face. You decide to gently nudge his leg with your foot, while the mother of the child tries to calm her restless son. He seems to understand that you need a signal, something to comprehend the situation you both find yourselves in. So, he drags his shoe to the exposed part of your leg and quickly forms a 'T' with the tip of his shoe. You swiftly grasp what's happening.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" A completely recognizable voice addresses you, and then he sits beside you. The man, as attractive as he may be, will always be remembered as the one who tried to kill you, now sitting next to you on the train. He is wearing a blue suit, adjusting his blazer while smiling at the child who has now stopped throwing a tantrum and has finally calmed down in the mother's lap.

You look at Walker, as if to say, "Fuck you." He handed me over to the citrus fruit. You get up quickly trying to escape. But Tangerine's hand holds your hand. His hand is firm holding yours, almost making it seem like we're old lovers or something.

"Honey, you should sit down, the train is going to leave soon. You might lose your balance." Your eyes are penetrated through Tangerine's blue eyes. A somewhat greenish blue.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I really need to go to the bathroom." You say, smiling slightly and then heading to the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your breathing is so uneven, your chest feels like it's going to explode. You only come to your senses when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

"Sorry, the bathroom is occupied." That's all you can say before having the bathroom stall invaded by Walker. As soon as you see it's him, your first instinct is to hit his chest. With all the strength possible. But he holds your hands and then pulls your body against his.

"I know you're angry and I accept all your anger. But right now, Y/L/N, we're screwed. We're in that psychopath's hands." He speaks almost with a beating, while still holding your hands.

"We're screwed, my ass. You screwed yourself and for a change you gave me away so you wouldn't be screwed alone." You know Walker too well to know he would do anything to survive. You think about opening the bathroom stall door but he holds your body against the door and finally lets go of your hands. You look into Walker's eyes before doing the only thing that comes to your mind. You pull Walker's face towards you and kiss him. A kiss that slowly intensifies, as you explore every part of his body with your hands. Carefully you notice that he has a gun on the back of his waist. You hold tight to his neck, bringing your legs up to Walker's waist. He understood that he should hold your ass and basically hold you on his lap. You lightly touch Walker's penis, which seems to be getting erect. Anything to distract him while you try to get the gun out of his waistband.

"I know what you're doing..." He says without breaking the kiss too much, which is perfect. You finally reach for the gun and then you bite down hard on Walker's lip. He moans loudly in pain and and moves away from you. Before he can react, you shoot into the air and turn to run out of the train, imagining all the passengers running out of the train as soon as they heard it the shot.

"See you outside." You talk running out of the train with the crowd. Leaving Walker behind. But then you feel someone grab your waist as soon as you get off the train.

"I'm glad you let Walker go, now it's just you and me." Tangerine says, smiling slightly as he guides you and you feel like you won't escape easily this time.

#august walker x reader #henry cavill x reader #august walker x you #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #aaron taylor johson characters #Spotify #spy au #action fanfic #august walker #tangerine #mission impossible #bullet train #enemies to lovers #unrequited lust #slow burn #future smut #angst #fluff #original female character

[geralts-yenn]

A lesson in obedience

VampireKing!August x reader x original female character

warnings: 18+, Adult content, Minors DNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, oral (f/m, f/f), hint of dacryphilia, vampire bites, blood, vaginal and anal sex, sex toys. If I missed something else, please let me know.

word count: 4k

A/N: It's almost October and that somehow got me in the mood for some very kinky, filthy vampire threesome. Please read the warnings!

Slowly, you raised your head as you felt the temperature drop in the room. The girl whose legs were still draped over your shoulders winced when she felt your mouth leave her pussy.

“My queen, didn’t I give you clear instructions about my plans for tonight?” August’s voice was just as cold as the atmosphere that he radiated. A hand wrapped around your neck and with a tight grip, August pulled you to stand. The girl's legs fell onto the mattress, but she was smart enough not to let out any sound of displeasure. 

“You did, your majesty,” you answered him hesitantly. Of course you knew you’d get punished for starting your dinner without waiting for August to arrive. But as the girl was brought into the bedroom by one of August’s men, you just couldn’t hold back. She was gorgeous, she smelt delicious, and you were hungry, both for touch and blood after a long week away from your king.

As soon as August’s hand left your jaw, you dropped to your knees. “Please forgive me, your majesty. I was too hungry and you were working. I thought, you'd like…” 

“Enough!” August hissed. “I will teach you a lesson, my queen.” He dragged out the last two words, ridiculing the meaning, and it really hurt you. Until now, him calling you his queen was always a sign of affection, an intimate pet name. 

Without any effort, he picked you up and placed you on the padded armchair. The wetness between your legs surely would leave marks on the soft velvet, but that wasn’t something August cared about. In swift motions, August wrapped soft red rope around your wrists and ankles, fixing you to the furniture, his fingers skillfully tightening the knots. You knew those ropes, August and you had played with them often enough.

“You already had a taste, so you surely won’t mind watching me getting my portion. Ah wait, technically you won’t be able to watch me.” August chuckled and turned the heavy armchair with you on it away from the bed to face the big mirror. You had always wondered why August had it in his bedroom. Now you knew it was a utility for punishment. Because what else was it to know that this unearthly beautiful creature was here in all its naked glory and your eyes were robbed off his sight.

You whimpered just from thinking what was to come. August's fingers brushed slowly over your bare form, from your thigh up over your waist and rib cage to the swell of your breast. When he touched your hardened nipple you couldn't suppress a small moan and August answered it by pinching it hard, which made you gasp even louder.

But then he was gone. From the opposite corner of the room came the telling noises of a belt being unbuckled and clothes tossed to the floor. Then you heard a faint creak as August got onto the bed. You saw the mattress dip and the girl moving to the side. She was throwing a wide smile at your beloved, you knew, even though you couldn't see him. 

And then you watched how August took the beautiful girl apart that was supposed to be your companion for the night as much as his. Her legs opened wide and her head fell back, gasps and moans slipping her beautiful lips. You wondered if August was using his fingers to pleasure her or his mouth. Maybe both. Not knowing was part of his lesson. And he was right, you already regretted your impatience.

You watched as the girl's eyes fluttered shut in response to August's endeavors, and you heard him talking to her, saying all the sweet praises that he loves to share generously. You noticed that the girls' sounds got louder and more desperate, her hips thrusting upwards to meet whatever August offered her for her pleasure, and August noticed too. The moans stopped and the girl let out a whimper that was almost a plea.

“You're not allowed to come yet, sweet little human. Your blood would be too sweet, not what my disobedient queen deserves tonight.” But soon enough, the girl's whimpers told you that August had started to fulfill her needs again. 

The sound of skin smacking against skin told you he started fucking her in earnest. Her head fell on the bed as she arched her back in a deep moan and August's own noises made you clench your legs together as good as you could with your ankles being tied to the chair.

“August, please!” You begged, his title forgotten in your despair. August snarled as he heard your plea. 

“Desperate little minx, now you beg?” A second later, August was beside you. Your eyes roamed over his appearance, thankful that you were finally able to see him again. His body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and his curls were falling unruly into his forehead. He looked like the beast he was. 

“Will you disobey me again?” he asked, his eyes piercing and cold. 

“Never, your majesty.” Your voice was breaking. “Please, your majesty, I am willing to submit. Just please let me feed.” August grabbed your jaw roughly. 

“You will not misbehave again, or your punishment will be far more cruel. Now acknowledge my mercy and show me that you've learned your lesson.” August loosened the knots that held you in place. You fell to your knees immediately. 

“Thank you for your kindness, your majesty.” you breathed, kissing his feet. 

August fisted your hair, tugging you up, and guided you to the bed. He made you straddle the girl who was watching you both with her chest heaving and eyes wide. She bit her lip as August pulled her to him, her head falling over the edge of the bed.

“Now that looks like a good girl, aren't you a good girl, sweet little human?” August praised her and the girl gasped as he petted her cheek.

Her mouth opened as soon as August pressed the leaking tip of his cock onto her wet lips. You sat and watched as August pushed into her throat in long, languish strokes. 

And the girl was good, she took him deep, almost to the hilt. Her eyes were wide and tears were running down her cheeks, but her arms wrapped around August's thighs told you she wanted him right where he was. With growing desire you studied how he moved inside her. 

Tears were running down the girl's face, new ones building with every deep thrust into her throat. August's fingers brushed some of them away before he let them wander to her neck.

With a long growl, August appreciated the girl's aptitude to take him. His grip tightened, and you knew he was able to feel himself fucking the girl's mouth. His rhythm got faster, snapping his hips relentlessly forward.

“Good girl, your impressive work will be rewarded soon.” His hand left her neck and reached for her breasts, meticulously tracing the soft swell of them and the pebbled buds in their center. 

You watched him, taking in every little detail: His curls, falling into his forehead. Drops of sweat, running down his temple, over his clenched jaw and down his neck. His muscles, moving under his soft skin with every jolt. His wet length disappearing in a mouth you wished was yours. 

A whimper escaped your mouth and August's head shot up, his gaze falling onto you. For a brief moment, he considered tormenting you further, you observed. But then you finally heard the words that freed you.

“You're allowed to feed, my queen.”  Immediately you let yourself fall forward and sank your fangs into the delicate neck of the girl. She might not yet carry the evidence of euphoria in her blood, but she tasted sweet nevertheless. And the fact that you could feel August's cock thrust into her while you sucked at her throat made it all more delicious than you could have imagined.

Hungrily you lapped at the girl's throat. It was desperate and messy, but you didn't care. It didn't take long until you felt sated, and you parted your mouth from the girl's skin. You licked and kissed the fresh wound, but then August grabbed your chin between his thumb and index and pulled you up to him. 

His thumb brushed over your plump lower lip, gathering some drops of blood, and then he pushed it into your mouth to lick it clean. Your tongue circled his digit and you started to suck on it. You wanted to protest when he withdrew his finger from you again, but then his mouth took its place. 

His tongue forced itself into you, desperate to get a taste of the sweet girl's blood. August's kiss was deep and violent. His tongue brushed over your fangs, catching every last drop of blood before he drew back, leaving you panting.

Your lover's attention turned back to the girl who was still pinned between your thighs, her mouth still filled with August’s throbbing cock. 

“You did wonderfully, sweet human.” August pulled out and bent down to kiss the girl on her forehead. “Now tell me, how do you want me to make you come?” His hands were roaming over her beautiful curves as he awaited her answer. But it never came. Probably totally overwhelmed, the girl did nothing as to stare at the man who was bent over her. August realized her struggle and helped her find some words.

“Do you want me to please you with my tongue? Do you want me to fuck you? Your pussy? Your ass?” A whimper left her lips at his last word. August's mouth spread into a wide grin.

���Your ass it is?” he asked once more and the girl finally found her voice. “Please, your majesty!” 

August left his place at the edge of the bed for a moment and you guided the girl to kneel in the meantime. When August got back, he threw a bottle of lube and an assortment of toys onto the bed next to the two of you. He followed, positioning himself behind her back.

“Am I allowed to kiss her, your majesty?” you asked carefully. August's face appeared behind the back of the girl while his hands continued to stray over her body. With a raised eyebrow, he appeared to be considering various options on how to go on with you.

“You may get your hands and lips on the girl. Make her feel good. But you are not allowed to touch me. And you are not allowed to touch yourself. No grinding, nothing to ease your ache.” He waited expectantly for your reaction, and it was hard for you to hide your frustration, but you managed to bow your head and whisper a “Thank you, your majesty.”

August turned to the girl again. He took the lube and covered his fingers as well as the crack of the girl's ass with it and started to work her open, so she’d be able to take his girthy cock. The girl gasped as he pushed his finger into her. 

You crawled over until you were positioned with your head between her legs. You had to keep yourself busy, else the need you felt between your legs would drive you insane. So you started to run your fingers through her slit, gathering her slick and spreading it all over her pussy. You circled her clit and got rewarded with a needy whimper.

August decided it was time to add another finger and the girl jerked in surprise, only to press herself against his hand the next moment. Your fingers went back to her entrance, too, and carefully, not to touch August who was working only inches away on her other hole, you shoved two of your digits into her warm, wet pussy. You lifted your head and let your tongue work around her swollen clit. 

The girl was squirming, overwhelmed by the sensations August and you made her feel. Her screams were echoing through the room. You enjoyed making her feel like this, you almost forgot how much you wanted to feel like her, too. Pressing your knees together, you felt your pussy throbbing, your juices dripping down already. 

August grabbed the girl by her hips and pulled her back to him, but before he aligned himself to fuck her, he grabbed one of the toys and held it out to you. “Fill her up, I want to feel you fuck her,” he commanded.

You obeyed, taking the thick dildo and ran it through the girls slit a few times to gather her arousal. Then you pushed it into her slowly, letting her adjust to the toy.

As soon as you had it buried completely in her, you started to fuck her with it. After you fell into a steady, slow rhythm, your mouth closed on her clit again and you sucked while your hand kept thrusting the toy into her.

“That’s it, my queen, make her relax, make her able to take me.” You flushed at the praise you finally got from your lover, but you kept your pace. August shifted behind the girl, and when she cried out you knew he had entered her. 

The two of you worked together well, alternating in filling her holes while you kept up lapping at her bundle of nerves. The sounds of pleasure both of the girl and August filled the room, and it only made your ache grow. Your whole body was under tension and you knew you needed to explode, but you couldn’t. You weren’t allowed to. 

The girl shuddered, her legs were trembling as she cried out. You removed the toy, substituting it with your fingers, and you felt her walls clenching around you hard, as well as you felt August’s dick thrusting into her mercilessly. 

The next moment, August pulled the girl’s back flush against his chest and his mouth assaulted her neck. With a snarl his fangs pierced her skin and he drank hungrily from her. All the while he kept slamming his cock into her and you kept your fingers working her pussy while pressing your tongue onto her oversensitive bud. 

August finally jerked back his head with a growl and slammed his hips hard into the girl as he filled her with his seed.  Then he went back to lapping on her wound and cradling her in his arms. 

“Hush, you did good, sweet little human. So good!” Blood was running down his stubbled chin, as you watched him whispering more words of praise to the girl who lay totally spent in his arms.

“My queen, come here.” You didn’t need another word. You got up on your knees immediately, wrapping your arms around the girl and August. Her heart was racing in her chest and you brushed your hands over her hair, trying to calm her. 

When August felt like she was doing better, he carefully lay her back onto the mattress and covered her with his soft satin sheets. He bent down to kiss her cheek, leaving a little stain of blood that he rubbed away with his fingers. 

Then his eyes fell on you, as you knelt next to them, your own chest still heaving. August gestured you to come into his arms and you eagerly followed. His embrace felt like coming home. He guided your face to him and then he finally kissed you. 

His mouth was the sweetest you’ve ever tasted and you devoured what he gave you at last. You spent what felt like hours just kissing and feeling each other, before he pulled away from you.

“So, did you learn your lesson, my queen?” His voice was still stern but not cold anymore. He watched you with a small smile as you nodded. 

“Yes, your majesty. I regret my disobedience and I will not betray your trust again.” August kissed your forehead and took you in his arms again.

But then you felt the girl stirring next to you, coming back to her senses. August was about to take care of her and reached for her as you felt her hand on your thigh. 

A stifled moan came from your lips before August could take the girl’s hand from you. Your whole body was still aching for touch and the brief sensation brought back your need in full force. 

“What do you think you’re doing here?” August asked, his voice sweet but surely still intimidating to the girl.

“I want to make her feel good, too. What she did to me was wonderful.” The girl’s eyes switched between you and the king and August’s face told her immediately that this was not going to happen.

“I appreciate your generosity and your kindness, but my queen will not be included in this today. Obedience is something I value deeply and I can’t tolerate my beloved disrespecting me.”  The girl nodded understandingly, even though there was still a pout on her full lips. She sat up, looking through the room.

August brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “What do you need? Cuddles, sleep, a bath? You can join us in our bed or I can send Will to guide you to a private room. You can stay as long as you want.” The girl seemed to be surprised by the changed attitude of the king. She clearly hadn’t expected him to take care of her after he had used her for his pleasure. 

“A private room would be lovely.” she said. “Assuming there’s a bathtub close.” August and you both chuckled softly. You got up and handed the girl the soft robe she had worn when she arrived. August opened the door and talked to Will, who was standing guard in the hall. The younger vampire entered the room and wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulder, not batting an eye over your naked bodies or the mess of blood and other bodily fluids on the sheets. 

As Will and the girl had left the room, August turned to you. “I will go take a shower.” You already started to head towards the bathroom, too, when August stopped you.

“You won’t join me. You will wait here. On your knees.” His hand on your shoulder, he guided you to kneel down on the thick and soft rug. At least he allowed you so much.

Your frustration and despair peaked when you saw that August had the silk ropes in his hand again. He took his sweet time to bind your legs, knot for knot. Then he moved to your chest, waving the cords to a harness. And finally, he guided your arms behind your back, tied your wrists together and wrapped the last inches of rope around your arms in expertly crafted knots. Then you felt chill fabric cover your eyes and August tied the satin blindfold behind your head. After a chaste kiss on your forehead, he left you alone and disappeared into the bathroom. 

You heard the water starting to fall and August whistling a bright tune, knowing too well that he only did this to increase your torture. Your senses reduced, you felt the ache in your knees as well as the ache in your core. You tried to calm yourself, tried not to think about the vampire that was standing in the shower only a few steps away from you. But you couldn’t. 

After what felt like hours, the water stopped as well as the melody on August’s lips. You still imagined August, his wet body, his chest, covered by just the right amount of hair, his strong thighs and the veiny cock, springing out between them. 

You were so deep into your fantasy that you hadn’t even noticed that the real August was standing next to you until his deep chuckle startled you. You gasped and August’s chuckle transformed into a real laugh. His hand cupped your cheek. 

“Will you respect my wishes in the future, my queen?” he asked you, his words only a whisper but yet intimidating. 

You held your breath for a second before answering. “Yes, your majesty. I learned my lesson and I will not disobey you ever again. I will show you all my respect and I will never disappoint you again.” Your voice was trembling. You were hoping that he would finally accept your apologies and let you have at least his arms and his bed for the rest of the night. Even though a small little voice in your head still hoped for more. 

August pulled you up by the ropes on your chest and it took you a little to be able to stand without trembling. But as soon as you were steady enough, he pushed you forward until your hips crashed against something soft and yet solid. The recamier at the end of his bed, it came to your mind, as August pressed his hand on your back to bend you over it.

A sigh, relieved and desperate at the same time, escaped you as you felt his fingers running through your folds. Without any prior warning, he shoved two fingers inside you. It didn’t matter, your rejected heat had you prepared for this. The small voice in your head grew louder, maybe August showed you more mercy than you expected him to. But there were still doubts. If he left you again, now after giving you this tiny bit of attention, you would break.

As he pumped his curled fingers into you and made your riled up body already build up a high, he whispered in your ear: “You are lucky, my queen, that my heart can’t stand seeing you suffer. And my cock can’t stand seeing this pussy dripping wet and yet ignored. So you better be thankful for what I give you now because you didn’t earn it.”

He withdrew his fingers and the next moment his cock drove into you, stretching your walls and leaving you whimpering. He fucked you hard, brutal even. His hips crashed into your ass while his hands held you in place, one pressing down your chest to the furniture while the other one held your hip in a steely grip. 

You couldn’t care less. He gave you everything you had craved for hours. His attitude probably made it even easier to bring you to your long-awaited climax. It took him only a few hard thrusts until you were screaming and clenching around his cock.

August didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. He kept ramming into you with full force and your second orgasm almost took you by surprise. Your tied legs couldn’t hold you anymore, so you just hung over the armrest and took every jolt of the vampire king with a gasp, as your lungs were robbed of air. 

You felt how August lost his composure, speeding up his already frantic rhythm. And just the thought of him cumming inside of you gave you another high. So you were both screaming, your own cry muffled through the padding of the chair, when August finished. 

He pulled you to stand, more gentle now, and he untied the knots that held your arms and legs. His hands kneaded the skin that was marked by the ropes and kissed your shoulder briefly. You felt his seed dripping from you and running down your legs. But August refused to offer you the tender clean up that he usually enjoyed. Instead, he moved to the bed, replaced the messy sheets with new ones and dropped to the mattress. 

“Get yourself cleaned up and come to bed, my queen.” he told you. 

As you stood alone in the shower, washing off the reminants of your night, you knew that August had succeeded. You had learned his lesson of obedience. 

#vampire!august #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic #august walker #vampire au #vampire king!August #believe in me #my writing

[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (5)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, groping, gaslighting, darkfic, both brothers are not nice guys, mafia au, a tiny hint of fluff/aftercare, possessive Walter, jealousy?, cockwarming

Between a rock and a hard place (4)

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

Shutting the world around you off, especially the two men using you to their liking, you fell asleep on the couch at the club.

You slept for almost two hours before Walter finally decided it was time to go home. He covered your body with his large shirt and picked you up in bridal style.

August was less aggressive and loud on your way toward the car. He grinned and talked about your perfect ass the whole time.

At least you got him off your back by letting him fuck your ass. A silver lining in the dark pit your world became.

“You’ve done so well for us. We made so much money,” Walter soothingly runs his big hand over your back as you try not to move too much.

You are in the largest bathtub you have ever seen. Walter insisted on running you a bath and on joining you. A trick, of course. You ended up impaled on his insatiable cock to keep him warm once again.

“Feels good keeping my big cock warm, doesn’t it?” He laughs when you hide your face in his chest. You’d love to tell him that you are sore and tired, but he wouldn’t listen to you. None of them does.

“You tricked me,” you murmur, afraid to speak louder. “You lied too.”

“Kinda,” he pats your head. “We let our customers fuck our employees but provide a different service too. I kept my word, didn’t I? I only shared you with August. No other man will touch you ever again, lamb.”

“We call it live-action porn,” August snickers as he joins you in the tub. He stretches his long legs out and you instinctively cling to his brother. “Don’t worry, I’m satisfied for tonight. The blowjob you gave me in the back of the car was mind-blowing. You’re a little minx.”

“She was such a good girl for me. I’m so proud of her for letting herself fall,” Walter’s praise, makes your heart flutter. “I rewatched the close-up and got hard again. My sweet little lamb is a star. I hate to say it, but I told you so.”

“Hmmm…you don’t hate to say it, brother.” You squeak when August leans forward to grope your ass. “As long as I can fuck her, you can keep her. I’ll figure out how to make her disappearance believable.”

You stiffen. “Relax, baby lamb. We only want to keep you to ourselves. Bad people are after your dead husband, and I can tell, they’d love to get their hands on you.”

“You’re ours now. No need to be officially alive, right?” August pinches your ass meaningly and snickers when you try to move away. But you are trapped, still impaled on his brother’s cock. “Right.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Walter slaps his brother’s hand away. “She made fifty thousand bucks in one night for us. I told you she’s going to be good for us.”

“Good for you,” you sniffle. “So good…”

Walter showed mercy after he filled your cunt up for one last time. He cleaned you and put you into a barely-not-there nightie to present you to his brother.

“I like the way you dress her,” August laughs as you lie on the bed, worn-out, and tired. “She’s a damn porn star with a mouth and a tight hole like that.”

“She has had enough for one night,” Walter points at the door. “You can fuck her with me at the club, but nowhere else. The blowjob at the car was a one-time thing. She’s mine.”

“Christ, you are obsessed with her,” you hide your face in the cushions when the brothers start fighting over you again. “I want her at the club again next week. I got some VIPs waiting for a good show.”

“Next week,” Walter jerks his head toward the door. “Now leave. She needs sleep and me too. I fucked her so many times I’m a little tired myself.”

August glances at you one last time. He can’t help but feel a little jealous as you immediately move closer to his brother the moment he lies on the bed next to you.

“Night,” he walks out of the door, slamming it shut with a loud thud. You flinch and sniffle, knowing he’s mad at you again.

“Let him sulk, lamb,” Walter moves closer to you. “Come here. I’ll keep you safe and warm.”

You don’t argue or fight Walter when he tells you to lie on his chest. It’s easier to be good for him and do as he says. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

“He’ll lose interest soon and then you are all mine,” he whispers. “I’ll make sure that he doesn’t hurt you, my sweet lamb. You’re too good for me to go to waste.”

Walter runs his big hand over your back up to your shoulders and back down. Your eyes flutter shut, and you feel warm.

“I knew you were special when I saw you the other day. You smiled and giggled, but your husband didn’t pay attention to what you had to say. I think you came to the event to show off your pretty new dress, but he only had eyes for some other woman.”

Your eyes snap open again as he continues.

You remember that night. It was the last time you went out with your husband.

That was over a year ago. – He must have watched you for a long time if he saw you that night. How could this happen to you? Maybe he even had a hand in what happened to your husband.

“You looked so cute in that dress,” he nuzzles his face in your hair. “I would’ve loved to take you right there and then.” He chuckles. “August told me to not pay attention to some pussy but I watched you all night. Your smile faded and you hid in a corner as your useless husband flirted with some other woman.”

You don’t say a word, even if your heart is racing. Closing your eyes you try to pretend you are asleep. His words replay in your mind while you struggle to not freak out.

“I set my eyes on you that night,” he tickles your skin with his fingertips. “I knew you’d be a natural submissive - a little lamb.” Walter hums. “You enchanted me with your innocent smile and soft laughter. You didn’t dress to impress but looked like a goddess to me. August calls it an obsession. I call it fate…”

“Come with me,” Walter wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you out of the safety of his bedroom. “I told you I got a surprise for you.”

You nod and let him lead the way. What else can you do? His admission from last night is still swirling in your mind. How could you not see that Walter knew you from the beginning?

“You’ll love it, lamb,” he murmurs and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“What is she doing here?” August grunts. He watches you like a hawk and squares his jaw. “I asked you a question, brother. We agreed on letting her stay in the guest room or your bedroom. The rest of this place is taboo.”

“Shut up,” Walter snaps at his brother. “After last night she has every right to be here. She let you fuck her ass and blew you off. We made fifty thousand bucks because of her. Now get out of my way.”

“What? I—”

It’s a small win, but watching August step out of his brother’s way makes you smirk for a second. At least he didn’t lie about protecting you from his brother.

“You heard me, brother. I bore your one-nighters and bimbos for years. If you don’t leave my lamb alone, you will not like my answer.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t live together if you always fight,” you murmur. With your eyes cast down, you can’t see the brothers turn their heads toward you to look down at you.

“Would you look at this cocky little bee,” August roughly cups your face, making you whimper as he forces you to look up at him. “What did you just say?”

“Fighting and arguing isn’t good for your well-being and blood pressure,” you recite one of the articles you read. “You are brothers and shouldn’t be mad at each other all the time.”

“Aw, she’s already worried about me,” Walter kisses your temple. “I knew she’d love me, brother. My sweet little lamb.”

August grunts. “She has a name. Maybe you should use it once in a while.” You glance at August, wondering if he’s as bad as you thought. He’s not wrong. You’d love hearing your name, not only a pet name.

“She likes it,” Walter bites back. “I can call her whatever I want. Maybe one day I’ll call her my wife!”

You suck in a breath.

“What?” August huffs. “You can’t be serious! Walter, you let me fuck her in front of dozens of guys jerking off while we destroyed her holes.”

“See, I share the most precious things with you, and you never appreciate it,” Walter possessively wraps his arm tighter around your shoulders. “Now, let me show Y/N my surprise.”

“Walter!” August calls after his brother. “This isn’t over!”

You follow Walter, stunned and speechless as he tells you how much you will love his surprise…

Tags in reblog.

#august walker #walter marshall #henry cavill characters #mafia au #walter marshall x reader #august walker x reader #darkfic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 14

Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

August marches you down the hallway, his fingertips a vice on your neck. You hiss as your feet bounce on the floor, struggling to keep from tripping at his furious pace. He shoves you against a door as he unlocks it.

As it opens, he hurls you inside and a growl rumbles up from his chest. He flicks on the lights as you catch your breath and face him, bracing the wall to keep from falling. You watch him with a tinge in your cheeks; you can't tell if you're scared or excited.

The more you look at him, he isn't that bad to look at. Even with the scars across the side of his face and the constant arch of his thick brows. And you've seen how well-built he is. You've felt it.

His black shirt is taut across his chest as he thumbs off his leather boots and sneers at you, "why are you looking at me like that, girl? I'm about to break you."

"Was just thinking, you're kinda cute," you beams and wring your hands together bashfully, "maybe if you shaved--"

"Do you know how to shut up?" He snarls.

"I'm sorry, sir," you bat your lashes, "is that good? Should I call you sir? Or do you like daddy?"

"What the fuck?" He hisses. "What is wrong with you?"

"Come on, daddy," you flutter over to him as he stands straight and you grab his thick biceps, "go on and break me."

"You are truly insane."

"Pot, kettle," you sing as you drag your hands across his chest and down his stomach.

"You're playing with fire," he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms above you. "Why are you here if it hurt so goddamn much?"

You pout up at him, your eyes stinging for just a moment before you quell the sudden tide, "you took something special so you better make it mean something."

"Girl," he shakes his head.

"You must like me if you did all that," you wiggle your body as he keeps your arms trapped above you, "come on... I wore cute panties for you."

He shivers and grits his teeth. He lets you go and nudges you away from him.

"This isn't gonna be something sweet," he rasps, "don't you understand?"

You smirk at him, a flutter in your core which could as easily be horror as excitement, "come on, Auggy," you pull up your dress, "let's have some more fun."

He glares at you. There's war in his eyes. He's fighting himself. Good, he should suffer too.

You sweep your dress off, revealing your naked chest and cute flower-specked panties. He sucks in air and you shake your chest at him. You reach again for him but he's too fast.

He grabs you, a hand on your neck, the other on the back of your head. He bowls you backward, your shoes clunking on the floor as he urges you further inside.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, girl," he growls as you cling to his forearm.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," you chirp back through your tight throat.

Another rumble escapes him as he turns you against another wall. He drops his hand from the back of your head and paws at your panties. He has you pinned as he shoves his fingers down the front and rolls over your tender bud. You're already wet with anticipation. He purrs as he feels it against his fingertips.

He rubs you firmly, teasing you, patient this time. He explores your folds, delving back and forth from your clit to your entrance, spreading your arousal as you feel his trembling beneath the surface. His blue eyes are dark as he puffs hot breaths on you. You clutch his thick bicep once more and moan.

"That's it, Auggy--"

He chokes the words from you. Your lashes flicker and you caress his arm enticingly. The friction is hot against your sensitive flesh, still wrought from your first time. You're only happy your whimpers can't rise through his tight grip.

You buck your hips, begging for more as you bite your lips, eyes cresting with hot tears as your head swells from your constrained breathing. He toys with you until your thighs quiver and you slap a hand against the wall as you tilt into him. You feel something. The pressure mounts, twisting like a coiled snake, lashing out only as his touch slickens and swirls wildly. Your eyes roll back as you spasm and cum.

His fingers glide back and he rams them into you. You yelp and clasp your hand around his sleeve. He chuckles as he fingers you roughly, stretching you as he spreads his fingers with each invasion. He drags his hand from beneath your panties and smears a wet trail up your stomach.

He fumbles with the front of his pants as his hold on you slackens enough to gulp in air. He shifts as he shimmies his pants down with one hand, tugging at both sides, then yanking down the front of his briefs. He turns his attention back on you and bends to hook an arm behind your legs. He lifts you easily, pushing between your thighs and crowding you against the wall. You hook your legs around him eagerly.

"You're still too tight," he snarls as he slips his hand beneath you and tugs aside your panties, the fabric catching in the crease of your leg. His thumb digs in behind your jaw as he feels around beneath you, guiding his tip along your entrance as he hooks his hand under your ass.

He exhales as he impales you. You babble, the fire just as scalding and violent as before. You don't understand. It should feel good this time. You hold back the pain and drone, bracing his shoulder as you rock your hips, puffing out haltingly.

"Hurts?" He taunts.

"No," you lie and roll your hips again, a little better.

"Sure," he scoffs and buries his nose against your hair, breathing over your scalp as he ruts into you from below.

He trails his hand back to grope your ass as you work against him. Your clit rubs against his pelvis, the tingle slowly building again, enough to soften the dull pain from within. You hook your hand around his neck and tilt your hips faster.

"Come on and fuck me," you challenge him as his deep grunts seep into your ears.

"Girl," he warns hotly.

"I know you can do better," you snap out, not as certain you can take any more.

He steps closer, crushing you against the wall as he squeezes your throat and digs his nails into your ass. He pounds you against the plaster, flesh clapping loudly as your spine aches. You slip your fingers up into his hair and lean forward. You nuzzle along his neck and shoulder, biting into the thick muscles there. He grunts lower.

"What--" He can't say much through his effort. He doesn't stop you as his motion picks up, fueled by the pain of your bite. You tug his hair and he tries to jerk his head away. "Crazy... fucking... girl."

He thrusts with each word, stopping on the last as he pushes himself into his limit. You moan, your climax dangling just before you, no...

You unlatch your teeth from him and huff, "is that all?"

He releases your neck and fists your hair instead, pulling you away from the wall, "not even close..." he snarls as he turns and carries you easily with him, "I told you... you're playing with fire."

He falls onto the couch with you beneath him. He quickly resumes his pace, snapping his pelvis against you as he sits back on his heels, watching the way he slides in and out. You look down to a shiver rolls through you. Oh wait, that is nice...

#august walker #dark august walker #dark!august walker #august walker x reader #mission impossible: fallout #drabble #black light #the club #au #series