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#august walker x ofc
littlefreya · 9 months
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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. 
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princessaxoxo · 5 months
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Thanksgiving
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August Walker x Reader 
Summary: August has you over for thanksgiving.
Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (f receiving), pet names, some food play, fluff, age gap, vulgar language
Wordcount: 930
A/N: Had this in mind for weeks but things got a bit chaotic in my personal life so it is a bit rushed. So sorry. 😣
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A spread of Thanksgiving delicacies and candlelight covered August's dining table as you were squirming in your seat across from him. Although you had been alone with him before, this was the first time he had asked you to his place with such boldness.
“Which one do you prefer?” He pointed at the turkey and ham. “Oh, um, the turkey,” you awkwardly replied. Internally, you were scolding yourself.
August took your plate and placed a turkey slice on it. When your plate was placed in front of you again, part of the food was on the edges since you didn't want to be impolite and refuse any of the food he had prepared. “It looks delicious, August."
As you began eating your food, halfway, you noticed August hadn’t touched his. “Why aren’t you eating?"
August took notice of your nervous mannerisms since the beginning of the night. “Why are you fidgeting?” You looked away from his eyes and dropped your utensil. He leaned across the table and raised your face so you would look at him. “Tell me.” His light-hearted question has now turned into a demand.
“Well, we’ve never done this.” His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “What do you mean?"
“This is intimate. Well, we have been intimate before, but this is a different type of intimacy. It’s romantic. This is different for us.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. August sat back in his chair and chuckled.
“It’s not funny!” You huffed and crossed your arms.
“Oh, I don't think it's humorous, baby. I simply don't understand why you withheld your concerns from me. I am aware that this is unusual for us because we haven't been able to go on the kind of date that I had hoped for. However, the fact that it will be our first Thanksgiving spent together makes it more special.”
Suddenly, all the nerves you held floated away.
August took a few steps around the table before bringing out the chair beside you. He kissed your hand after grasping it.
"This is really special, and I'm glad it's with you. Thank you for doing all of this." You said before giving him a kiss that started out as affectionate but quickly turned hungry. "Suddenly, none of this food appeals to me."
“But you made all of it. It shouldn’t go to waste.” He nodded his head, and you could tell he had an idea. “It won’t go to waste, princess.”
You watched as he brought the bowl filled with mashed potatoes closer. It suddenly became clear to you what he was intending to do. “You’re going to eat the food off of me?"
August started to take your dress off your body, and you allowed him to. "Indeed, I am. After all, it's Thanksgiving. We must be grateful and eat until we put on ten pounds." He paused to give you a kiss on the inside of your thigh. "This is what I'm thankful for—this wonderful food. And above all, you."
As you bit your lip, you saw him apply mashed potatoes to both sides of your inner thighs before starting to eat them off of you. When you felt him sucking and twirling his tongue around, pleasure took over you.
Moans effortlessly left you as you grasped your breasts and pinched your nipples. He applied another sheer coat of mashed potatoes to your cunt, and you soon felt the feel of his tongue pressing against your clit. 
His formerly brilliant blue eyes were bursting with desire as you gazed down at him. His tongue lapsed and sucked until you were a wailing mess that was coming apart. “God, August.” 
He kissed his way up to your mouth. “Get undressed now,” you demanded of him. He tore his clothes off in a rush. And, thoughtlessly lifted you and placed you down on the table. August lifted the cranberry sauce and poured it over your breasts. When he began to suck and twirl his tongue over your nipples, groans fell from his lips.
“August, I need you inside me.”
His face held a wicked smile. “You want me inside of you, princess? Want to feel all of me?"
“Yes, please.” 
With rapidity, he lunged inside you, and your legs encircled his waist. His sac struck your ass with each push. As you bent in to give him a kiss, you noticed how his muscles strained with every thrust.
You encircled his neck firmly with your arms, and he enveloped his powerful arms beneath your thighs. When he pressed you against the wall and invaded you, you were able to feel him more deeply. With every push, his cock grazed your g-spot.
Your come covered his cock. “My good girl, covering me with her come.”
With your mouth hanging open and your eyes shut, you became mute as the pounding intensified. He gripped your face tightly. "Look at me; I must see that stunning face of yours as I come into you."
His body began to jerk as his seed filled you.
August's head rested on the bend of your neck while you both tried to breathe again. Once he was breathing normally again, he took a look at you and let out a little laugh. “What is it?” you questioned him.
"There's food in your hair," he said, moving your hair away from your face.
You chuckled hysterically and touched his face before speaking. "Happy Thanksgiving, baby."
"Honey, happy Thanksgiving." He kissed you several times over your face after giving you a quick peck on the lips.
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Taglist: @shellyshellshell @chloe92 @identity2212 @juliaorpll78 @armystay89
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ashbrat488 · 23 days
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Candy - August Walker Fanfic
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August Walker x Original Female (escort) character
Trigger warnings: talks of abuse and torture
Summary: August Walker, the CEO of a renowned Security Firm located in the bustling streets of Washington DC. His life is a constant juggling act, burdened by the weight of stressful responsibilities. The strain on his marriage is palpable, with his relationship barely holding itself together. However, he remains tethered to his wife primarily for the sake of their son, whom he adores dearly.
To find solace amidst the chaos, August forms a unique bond with an escort who goes by the name "Candy." Their clandestine meetings become a refuge for him, an escape from the pressures of his daily existence. For over nine months, their encounters grow in frequency, and August finds himself becoming increasingly possessive of Candy's time, although he strives to keep their interactions as casual as she desires.
However, their relationship takes an unexpected turn when August accidentally discovers Candy's true identity. Intrigued by this revelation, he begins to interfere in her life and even meddles in the affairs of her boyfriend, who coincidentally works for him. As August's feelings deepen, he wrestles with the idea of whether he can make Candy choose him over her current life.
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This story is 40 chapters and over 50k words. I will be posting one chapter at a time, if you ever want to be added to the taglist, please let me know.
This story (as well as any stories I post) is only for those over 18... it will include all sorts of sex including MFM...
And there will be a special guest star by Lloyd Hansen...
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 - coming soon
Taglist If you want to be added or removed from my list, let me know 🫶🏻
@identity2212 , @alicedopey, @propelkingkitten , @critfailroll, @mrsevans90 , @carrie80reads , @thearcana-moonlight , @devotedlythoughtfulanchor , @alwayzmsbehavn , @dangerousblizzarddreamer , @secretdream2 , @evansabove1981 , @juliaorpll78 , @kingliam2019
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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months
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Daddy Knows Best, Part II
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Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part II
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader
Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout
Word Count: 2.6K
Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?
Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll take a giant leap.
Warnings: age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), pet names (Princess, Babydoll), Daddy kink, corruption kink, praise kink, somnophilia, pregnancy kink, dacryphilia, lactation kink, cockwarming, (slight) choking, deflowering, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, cum swallowing, Murder Daddy™️ vibes, dead dove: do not eat
A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 
Dividers by: @saradika
Support/Reblog banner by me
Spotify Playlist is here. 
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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I am such a lucky man.
Any man in my situation might do the right thing. But when has that ever gotten anyone what they really wanted?
Looking at a perfect flower from afar is just fine, don’t get me wrong. You bend over, you smell it, you leave it to bloom. But plucking that flower and holding it in your hand? Now that is a truly heavenly feeling.
That’s what it was like with my little Babydoll. 
It was a cautious dance. I had to earn her trust. She was Daddy’s little girl, after all. She had her loyalties and she did not like me at first. She didn’t explicitly say it but she missed her father. Who could blame her?
But she was so perfect. And I wanted her. She had to be mine.
And so she would be.
It started with little things. I made sure to get the snacks that she coveted. I called her Princess. I smiled at her and always listened intently to whatever stupid topic she wanted to talk about. She would get so excited to talk to someone who would listen. 
I got the feeling her mother wasn’t exactly her favorite person. She was much closer with her Nanny. I was shocked to find out that she still had a caregiver at her age, but one look at their relationship and it made so much sense. I convinced her mother that she wouldn’t need a Nanny any longer and that I would be taking over watching after her. 
Her sheltered upbringing kept her so innocent in so many ways. It was like her parents fucking gift-wrapped her for me to corrupt. And with Nanny out of the way, I had her all to myself with no prying eyes.
That day she got the sunburn was a godsend. I watched as she slept in the backyard, the sun illuminating her olive skin. I could have easily gone to wake her up, but I wanted her to need me. I wanted her to call for me. 
And soon enough, I hear her voice shout my name. It was burned in my brain. 
As I rubbed the aloe on her warm skin, I knew I wanted to be her Daddy. She needed an authority figure to take care of her, and I took on that role. Since her mother was off in her own world, it would afford me the ability to become her everything.
The way to her heart was care. I told her I would never hurt her, and proceeded to spank her plump little ass. She forgave me afterward, of course. When I wiped her tears and tasted them? Fuck, I didn’t think my dick could get any harder.
And when she didn’t know what to call her perfect little pussy? Fuck! I’ve replayed that moment in my head so many times. I’ll admit, calling it her ‘princess parts’ was entirely self-indulgent. Knowing she was never touched only made me want to forget the plan and fuck her right then.
But there was a time for everything. I settled for eating her delicious pussy. Her sweet face contorting and enjoying my tongue had me hard as a rock. Seeing her cum for the first time was a sight to behold. Fingering her tightness had me wanting to test the elasticity of that wet fuckhole. 
Damnit, she was perfect. 
When I heard her moan for Daddy and knew she meant me, my soul left my body for a moment. It came back so I could take care of her and have the mental image of her in my clothing. She looked so cute and, at the same time, she looked fuckable.
It actually hurt my dick to look at her in my clothes. I had to have her. I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed her and I refused to let this opportunity slip past me. Her mother wasn’t due to be home for hours.
While she slept, I let my hands explore.
Her soft tummy under my calloused hand gave me ideas. What if it was swollen and round with my child? Far too soon to even be thinking about that, she hasn’t even seen my dick yet and I’m already thinking about knocking her up.
I turned her on her back and pulled my shirt up over her tits. Perfect handfuls for me, with areolas that harden at my touch. The way they tightened as I circled them with a finger was almost too much for me. I felt my dick swell as I thought about them bloated with milk. I took one pebbled nipple into my mouth and imagined that she coated my tongue with sweet nectar. When I switched to the other nipple, she stirred in her sleep. I pulled off of her breast and looked down at her peaceful form.
The irony of the urge to impregnate this virgin wasn’t lost on me. I wouldn’t put it past my subconscious to think it could create the next Messiah. I do tend to be a bit ‘larger than life’ at times. I mean, who else but a true sociopath would dream of corrupting an innocent soul?
Fuck it. Call me a sociopath. I won’t lose sleep over it. I’ll be too busy molding her pussy to the shape of my dick.
The first step to doing that was getting my dick inside her. I freed her of my underwear and opened her legs. Placing my palm over her cunt, I could feel the heat that radiated from it. I loved the little tuft of hair on her mound. I preferred it fuzzy anyway.
I slid my fingers down and felt the wetness that escaped her lips. I coated my fingers in her juices and didn’t hesitate to put them into my mouth. She was so fucking tasty. I was addicted to the taste of her and there was no going back. 
As if I wanted to go back after today.
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You awoke to the feeling of rubbing on your princess parts. You had tried to stay asleep but you realized you aren’t wearing Daddy’s underwear anymore. You opened your eyes and looked up to see Daddy smiling down at you. 
“Babydoll, you were so pretty while you slept. Daddy couldn’t help himself and had to touch you again.”
You wiggled your little hips, trying to get as much friction on your clitty as possible. You bit your bottom lip and tossed your head to the side in pleasure. Your sweet moans were music to Daddy’s ears if the plastered smile on his face was anything to go by.
“Daddy has a special treat for you, Babydoll,” Daddy pulled his hand away and you whined at the loss of contact. You watched as Daddy kneeled in front of you and unzipped his pants. He pulled a bottle out of his pocket that had a purple label on it and tossed it to the bed. “Daddy wants you to take his dick out.” He pulled you to a sitting position and guided your hand inside his pants.
When you had made contact with soft skin, you wrapped your fingers around its hardness. You pulled it out and the groan that Daddy made went right to your core. You couldn’t fit one hand around it so you used both of them to hold it. 
Daddy’s large hand covered both of yours and moved them up and down. The silky smooth skin moved through your fingers and Daddy picked up the bottle and uncapped it. He poured some of the liquid over your hands and told you to spread it around. You smiled up at him as your hands became slippery and Daddy’s moans became louder.
“Lay back, Babydoll. Daddy is gonna touch your princess parts with his dick. It’s gonna hurt at first, but Daddy will try and be gentle.” Daddy put one of your legs over his arm as he leaned over you. He poured some of the liquid on you and you shivered as the cold liquid slid over your sensitive clitty and traveled downward, “Take a deep breath and then let it out, Princess.”
You breathed in and held it. When you let it out, Daddy tore through you with his dick. The stretch burned and you started to cry.
“Daddy, it hurts!” You hiccupped as fat tears rolled down your face.
“Fuck, Babydoll. You know I love it when you cry for me. It’s gonna stop hurting soon. Just…fuck, your tight little cunny is holding my dick so tight and keeping it warm,” He wraps your legs around his waist and holds your head in his hands. He looked down at you and kissed your tears away, “Daddy’s gonna start moving now. You feel so good, better than I thought you would feel. I want you to tell me to fuck you, Babydoll.”
You looked up at Daddy and sniffled. “Please fuck me, Daddy. Make it stop hurting, please?”
You felt him twitch inside you as he growled low in his throat. He pulled out slowly then slammed back in. Your body jerked with the speed of his hips against yours. The sounds of wet slapping filled your ears, mixed with Daddy’s grunts and your yelps.
He whispered in your ear while he impaled you over and over, “Babydoll, fuck! You are making Daddy so happy. Taking my dick so well. You’re being such a good girl for me. Such…a…good…girl!” He punctuated his words with thrusts into your tight heat.
Soon, the pain slowly dissipated and you were left overwhelmed with the feeling of fullness. An involuntary moan escaped your lips and Daddy chuckled. His hand moved down to play with your clitty and it was all over for you. Within moments, you were clenching around him and crying again from the heightened intensity.
“Yes, come all over my dick. You’re my good little fucktoy, aren’t you? Say it, Babydoll.”
“I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy.”
“Keep saying it, Babydoll. I’m so fucking close. Just keep saying it.” The hand that was on your clitty had moved to your neck. The slightest hint of pressure kept you still while he continued his onslaught.
“I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy. I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy. I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy.” You repeated the mantra and watched as Daddy’s face contorted and he let out a slew of bad words.
“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna fucking cum. Shit, shit, shit!” Daddy pulled out and stroked himself once, twice. On the third stroke, thick white ropes shot out of him and onto your belly. It just kept coming and you watched in awe. Daddy looked to be in pain but he kept stroking until all that came out was a few drops. He looked exhausted, so when he collapsed next to you, you weren’t surprised.
“Daddy?” You ran a finger through the sticky fluid and touched your first finger to your thumb to see the elasticity of it.
“That’s my cum, Babydoll. You were such a good girl and I wanted to give you a special treat. Open your mouth, baby,” You opened your mouth and Daddy scoops up some of his cum and puts it on your tongue. You swirled the salty substance on your tongue before swallowing. “That’s my good girl, swallowing Daddy’s cum like a perfect Princess. Can Daddy have a kiss?”
“On the lips?” You’ve never been kissed before and suddenly you were nervous.
“Yes, Babydoll. Daddy promises he doesn’t care if you haven’t kissed anyone before. Daddy needs to taste you. Just stay still, and Daddy will show you, ok?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Your breathing picked up as Daddy leaned into you and put his mouth over yours. He exhaled through his nose and his mustache tickled you. He held the back of your head while he kissed you. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips and you opened your mouth to let him in. When Daddy’s tongue massaged your own, you brought a hand up to get lost in Daddy’s curly mane. You swallowed the groan that rumbled through him.
Daddy broke the kiss and set his forehead against yours. He looked blissful and tired and all you wanted to do was keep kissing him. You moved your head to kiss him again and he nibbled at your bottom lip before peppering you with kisses all over your face. You giggled and playfully pushed him away so you could stretch and sit crosslegged.
He sat up and got out of the bed. He walked around it and crouched down to speak to you at your eye level. He took your hands and made you look at him. With a serious look on his face, he spoke.
“Babydoll, I want you to promise me that only Daddy gets to kiss you and only Daddy gets to put his dick in you. You don’t let other boys touch your princess parts. If a boy ever does that, you tell me and I’ll take care of it, ok?”
“Take care of it?” What did that mean?
“Nobody gets to touch my Babydoll without Daddy’s explicit permission. Am I understood?” Daddy looked like he had a fire in his eyes. Daddy wanted to protect you. And he might do anything to keep you safe.
“Only Daddy gets to touch me. I understand, Daddy.” 
“Good girl. Now, why don’t you go take a shower and Daddy will go start on dinner. I have your favorite for dessert tonight.” His bright smile was infectious and spread to your lips.
“You got the cannolis I like?” You couldn’t contain your excitement and squealed.
“Yes, I got the cannolis. Anything for my Babydoll. But you have to be a good girl all night if you want them. That means you keep what you and Daddy do all to yourself, ok Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy. I can keep a secret. I promise.” 
Daddy’s smile widened and he pulled you up out of bed. He kissed your forehead, and your nose, and pecked your lips before he shooed you off to the bathroom to wash up. 
You didn’t know it, but he watched your every step until you were out of sight. 
As you showered, you thought about the cannolis and Daddy’s kisses. When you washed your princess parts, you felt that tingle like when Daddy touched you. You wanted to play more, but you were still sore so you finished washing up and got out of the shower.
After getting dressed, you went down to the kitchen and watched as Daddy made dinner. When Mommy came home, you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when Daddy kissed her. Daddy noticed your pout and kissed the top of your head and let you taste test the bolognese sauce.
Dinner went by smoothly, Mommy and Daddy talked about whatever while you spaced out. But when Daddy brought out the cannolis, you were back to your jovial self. You ate your cannoli and excused yourself from the table.
With a full belly of dinner and dessert, you retreated to your room. The musky scent of sex was all over your sheets and you reveled in it. You replayed the events of the day in your mind and you ached to have Daddy next to you again. He awoke something inside of you that only he had access to.
After today, everything changed. He wasn’t August anymore, he was Daddy. And you were his Princess, his Babydoll. Your hand gravitated to your princess parts again and the thought of Daddy’s hands all over you had you soaking your hand in moments. Tasting yourself again, you imagined it was Daddy’s cum and that he was pleased with you.
You drifted off to sleep shortly thereafter, the promise of more to come heavy on your head.
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Part III
A/N: Ok, I think I still have more to write. But, do y’all want more?
**Tag List**
@raccoon-eyed-rebel @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁]
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milknhonies · 3 months
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The Negatives of Shooting People
Chapter 3 || MasterList || Chapter 5
Chapter Summary: The ten year anniversary soiree is here for August's Lion Lounge club. And he's awfully surprised to see you, an uninvited guest...careful now....
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Gambling, Non-Con, Piss, Manipulation, Threats, Sexual Assualt, Bondage, Murder, Violence, Strangulation, Public Execution, Kidnapping, Bondage, Slight Daddy Kink, Slight Puppy Play Kink, Petnames.
Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader
Word Count: 8k
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Author Notes: I honestly don't know how to gamble or how it works. I read a quick wiki instruction and played a game. If anyone actually knows how to play, let me know and I'll change the writing.
Inspiring Song: "Poker Face." By Lady Gaga.
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07:00pm Friday 16th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane.
When Lloyd met you in the foyer and escorted you to the car, you noticed how his neck was tight against his bow tie. His bruised face and knuckles had lightened. He had waxed his moustache and curled the tips upward.
He whistled low and gawked at you all over. Your foot rubbed the back of your calf shyly. You were decadent in pearls and metallic shimmering from your dress.
He reminded you that your role was too find August and do whatever you could to distract him from figuring out that Lloyd, a police officer undercover had infiltrated his event.
Lloyd gave you another hundred dollars and said it was for gambling and pleasure purposes only. If August could be distracted by a drink, a game of poker, a jukebox dance even a pokie machine, that should give Lloyd plenty of time to look around for an illegal weapons auction.
You both got out of the car and found yourself escorted on his arm passed the body guard checking the invites.
You clenched a small purse under your arm tighter as you entered the massive club. It left you briefly speechless.
The floor was covered in black and gold mixed marble. The club was an old building. Probably over a century or two old. It had a huge bar and multiple show rooms. On one stage was a burlesque dancer shaking her covered nipples. In another part was a casino theme of tables and machines. And to the sides were seats, tables and booths.
Lloyd got you both to sit down and he ordered a drink. He sipped his whiskey and glanced at the stairs that spiralled up to more private rooms.
“There he is, balcony, beside the blonde.”
You tried to not be obvious when you looked over your shoulder. August was smirking with a drink in his hand, shaking hands with an old bald gentleman with beady eyes and a brief case.
As that older fellow walked away Lloyd murmured, “And that’s our cue.”
He moved out of his seat and left the whiskey behind.
You waited a few minutes. You stared at the reflection of August in the whiskey glass and bit your lip. That man was a monster. He had raped you, humiliated you and made you scared…except now you had teeth and claws to flex.
You shut your eyes and prayed to get out alive. Picking up the glass you tossed your head back and finished what Lloyd had left. Your lipstick smudged the beautiful glasswork.
You abandoned the booth and deposited the glass.
You turned back and started to glide up those stairs in your small heeled feet. You felt immaculate, confident. And you were sure…he had seen you as you ran your hand up the banister.
You slowly moved around him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. A blonde woman was on his other side, whispering in his ear with her seductive rose lips. She was gorgeous, legs long and slender waist. Her dress was a deep burgundy red and her gloves black. She made you look like the frumpiest woman in the club.
You leant against the railing beside them at a respectful distance. You looked over the dance floor. You recognised local representative politicians mingling, kissing, all salacious actions that the average public would be shocked to witness. A Greenie with her tongue down a Nationalists throat.
From your side you could feel his eyes. You couldn't tell if August was glaring daggers, but you knew he had seen you.
Your fingers squeezed the railing tight.
You took a deep breath in and focused not to stutter, “Fancy seeing you here.”
You managed to angle your face his way. You prayed he wouldn't look at your hands, trembling on top of the metal bar.
He looked down at his glass cup. He turned away from his golden haired friend and smirked at you. The woman attached to his side flashed you a sickly fake smile. Her eyes were full of scornful judgement.
He chuckled lightly, eyes raking up and down your body in a way to made you feel like meat in the deli section.
“Well, I do own the club Miss Y/L/N or did you not read my name on the invitation?”
You curled your toes and strained a brave smile, “Oh of course, but business is always busy with men like you…”
You looked away from him briefly, trying to compose yourself. Your hands were starting to shake while your knees felt light. You swallowed hard and returned to face his predator eyes.
“Men like me?” He purred and turned his body to lean on the railing.
You nodded slowly, trying to find a way to answer him and continue the conversation.
“Men like you,” was all you could repeat back firmly. You could feel a line of sweat crawl down the back of your neck.
He chuckled and held his empty cup to his feminine companion.
“Natalie, be a dear and fetch me some Guinness and whatever you’d like.”
Natalie winked at him and gave a girlish laugh when he smacked her backside. You wanted to scoff but at the same time you pitied her. You were scared she would be his next sexual victim. She toddled down the stairs and August slid himself closer to you on the railing. His fingers fluttered and circled around your neck. It was too public a place for him to squeeze any tighter. He couldn’t kill you out here, it was too public. His fingers softly moved over the spot where your pulse sat.
“Why are you here?” He raised his brow to you as he purred, “How did you even get in, huh? I know you didn’t get the invitation…so…have you come to take some more photos? We could have a quick interview in my office if you’d like.”
His lips were amused, but his eyes were dark and annoyed. Annoyed with you.
You shuddered, you weren’t too interested in his offering, but you had to consider how much time Lloyd needed to gain incriminating information. Lloyd didn’t know you had your phone down the front of your dress. It was risky but you wanted to catch anything if the occasion arose.
Your glanced at him, your bottom lip trembled slightly, you nuzzled his hand that started to cup your cheek.
Lightly shaking your head you said calmly, “I got your photos…the envelope…so no photos tonight…”
He chuckled and leered down your chest before leaning in closer to your face moaning, “So…what have you come for?”
You were frustrated that Lloyd really thought you’d be able to do this….this improvisation was nearly impossible when you had to face a man with a mean face. It was the tension of your chest snapping, the breath you were holding broke in a breathy sigh which was close to a gasp.
“The party,” you lied, you leant closer and let your noses touch, “Just to party.”
You laid your hand on his chest and rubbed it in large low circles. The whiskey was warm in your cheeks. You felt daring. Your heart beating strong in your ears. Do it now or you might as well drown. You squeezed your eyes shut and tightened your insides as you pushed up and kissed his mouth. His moustache scratched your top lip as you forced yourself onto him. It was a hard lip pressing peck, you felt his hot breath fan your face. The smell of his malted breath mad a hot light sing in between your legs. Your heart was thundering in your chest,
His wide cold eyes bore into your soul and he chuckled, “You make such a fucking terrible liar.”
It was like he had punched you in the gut the way the air had left your body.
“August dear, I have your drink!” the ringing of Natalie’s voice had his head turned away and letting you go. You couldn’t think, you just stood there absolutely frozen.
August collected his new refreshment, taking an impressive gulp, and you watched him lean closer to the blonde, “The accounts are settled, you can piss off now Nat.”
Her false smile faltered into a malicious smirk. She winked at you before she fled back down the stairs and greeted another gentleman in a tuxedo. You felt sick.
August leant back and cupped your waist in his awfully huge hand, “Let’s take a walk.”
He smirked feeling the shiver roll down your back. His hand squeezed your fingers as he led you down the staircase. You frantically looked out to the room and dance floor. You hoped you might see Lloyd, you might call out for him to save you.
“Ever played Roulette?” he asked setting his empty Guinness on a passing waitress tray.
You shook your head and heard him chuckle, “Of course you haven’t, good girl like you hasn’t done many things at all.”
You were slightly offended by his wording no matter how much it might’ve been true deep down.
He put his hand back to your lower back and led you to the casino rooms. There were multiple tables with different games involving cards and chips. But there was a long table surrounded by at least twenty or thirty well dressed men with their arm candy super model women. At the end was a dealer with a long metal pole. He wore a golden coloured suit. He looked serious and when his eyes caught the sight of August that cold aura disappeared. A giant smile graced his cranky appearance.
“Want to join the game sir?” he asked, “We just finished a game.”
August smiled and said, “Yes, give me ten black chips, six purple and…” he sucked his teeth, “Six yellow.”
The dealer smiled and nodded, he handed his boss, your rapist, the eftpos machine before pushing some chips towards the edge of the table you both next to.
Your eyes widened. The black chips had the number of one hundred, the purple was five hundred and the pretty yellow chips were decorate with a one and three zeros. You had a wild guess that those digits were the amount of money he was putting on the table.
To August it was nothing.
The dealer was selling other chips to the players that were from the old game wanting to buy more while August groped your hip and pressed his nose to your ear, “Lets start off easy, pick, red or black.”
You looked at the table, there were numbers between zero and thirty six. Half the numbers were covered in red, the other half in black. Your mouth felt dry. You really didn’t know what you were doing.
“Bl-“ you cleared your throat as his hand cupped your backside under the table, “Black.”
He smiled, “Now pick, do you prefer even numbers or odd?”
You looked over the red squares and noticed how half looked odd and the other half was even, you weren’t sure if this would help or set you back.
“Odd numbers,” you whispered.
His breath was hot and his eyes were trapping you where you stood. You felt embarrassed to meet his looks.
“Dealer, One hundred on Black and one hundred on Odds.”
The dealer smirked, you knew that dealer knew this wasn’t really Augusts choice.
He spun the wheel that had a metal ball tapping along inside. Round and round the crimson and black. The ball landed onto black thirty five. You held your breath.
“And now,” August purred, “You’ve just won an extra two hundred dollars pup.”
The light in your chest bloomed with excitement, the butterflies rained like a storm in your belly. You were amazed at how it was to win so quickly…but then what if it was red even that won? Or just black and even? Would you have lost it all? Half? You were tickled with curiosity to learnt this grown up game. Two new black chips along with the original were pushed back to you. August thick fingers stacked them on top of each other in a bundle.
“Lets play again, now…see those top numbers, one to twelve, thirteen to twenty four, twenty five to thirty six?” he said, gesturing to the top of the red and black chart against the green fuzzy felt of the table.
“Pick one of those three groups.”
You sucked in a breath and tried to strategize….you had more numbers in the two boxes. You didn’t want to risk less numbers more chance of losing…
“One to twelve?” you said, his large hand rubbed on your ass pressing you closer to the table edge.
“Dealer, a purple chip on the one twelve,” he said cooly not even looking at the dealer this time as he said it. You wanted to know what he was thinking as he stared right down into your skull.
“Yes sir,” said the dealer pushing the five hundred chip over the dozen number group,
“Spin hockey,” August barked and clapped his hands.
And the bowl with a ball spun. it settled on number five. The table players groaned as their games were losing. Luck of the gods must’ve been over you tonight…
“And now you’ve won an extra thousand dollars,” he hummed.
The damn game made no sense except you were happy to be winning. You didn’t expect the fear you got from being in Augusts palm mixed with the joy of winning at gambling would make you aroused and wanting.
The yellow chip was pushed to you and you daringly picked it up. It was pretty, the emboss was August Lion symbol.
“Now…see those three columns that say two to one? There’s a right, middle and left. Pick one,” he plucked the chip from your curious fingers.
“Right,” you bravely exclaim. August laughed and turned to the dealer who had gotten back to your turn, “You heard the lady, yellow on right column.”
The chip was planted and the wheel spun once more…landing on black eleven…a middle column. And just like that, a thousand dollars gone…All the warmth left your body. Now you understood a gambling drop felt worse than the gambling high. His hand snuck it’s way across your lower belly. He moved you closer into his side. His hot breath fanned over you neck.
He tutted at you, “See the risk? Got all the blood rushing, didn’t it and now you’re feeling that punch of loss?”
You slowly shook your head, agreeing. Thank fuck it wasn’t your money or the money Lloyds' had given you. So far you’d at least made August a two hundred dollars profit from the original ten thousand he bought out.
August held your hips and pressed you back into his crotch. He wasn’t hard but you could feel his warm body heat and the shape of his soft cock in his pants.
His mouth purred along the shell of your ear, “Now, Puppy, choose one number.”
He was standing behind you, trapping you against the table flushed. None of the other players took notice and if they did they didn’t care. Because maybe they didn’t know what type of monster this monster could be.
“N-nineteen,” you stuttered, choosing your age might be a safer option.
“Tell the dealer,” he whispered.
You swallowed. You felt hot and a foul arousal between your thighs. You thought about the time you played Pool with August. Your first kiss...
“Nineteen please sir,” you said to the gold suited man.
“Chip type?”
August whispered like he was telling you the dirtiest secret, “Tell him you’re all in.”
You repeat the term and made it sound like a question. You had a feeling you knew what it meant after watch movies ‘Bounty Hunter’ with Jennifer ashton and Gerald Butler. The dealer glanced at August and smirked, “All in number nineteen.”
The long metal pole came out and scooped up all your chips to the nineteen box.
When the ball began to spin inside the wheel your belly twisted and your hands desperately squeezed Augusts. You remembered there was at least ten thousand two hundred dollars on the number and you were truly risking losing all his money. You damn well knew that Lloyd didn’t give you that much and there’s be no way to pay August back.
Your eyes ran round and round the wheel, you held your breath as the metal ball landed and bounced between the numbers. You felt weak in the knees. The wheel slowed and you nearly vomited from anticipation alone managing to force your arse harshly back into August you sound and desperately buried your face into his expensive cologne soaked shirt. You worried and bit your lip hard as the clattering silver ball stopped and the wheel paused.
You could imagine the dealers face peering down into the black and red bowl of fortunes and curses, debts and dreams.
“Congratulations little lady in front row, number Nineteen, you have won three million five hundred and seven thousand dollars,” said the dealer over an excited cheering crowd.
You swore you misheard, your knees wobbled as you dared to look up at Augusts grinning face. You looked over your shoulder and true to the dealers word, that silver ball sat in the groove of red painted with the number nineteen.  All the air was drained from your lips. You could’ve fainted. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the bad luck in your life, this felt truly unbelievable. You wished your father was here to see this. You started to smile...and then the squealing crawled out of your throat. You jumped up and down on your feet, your fingers squeezed Augusts arm tightly. The buzz inside you was wild. Your adrenaline was jumping out of adrenaline was jumping out of our throat. You knew the money wasn’t yours. It was Augusts but knowing that you’d managed to win that much by chance sent the greatest wave of euphoria.
“I won! I won! I won!” tears prickles your eyes and you cupped your mouth.
 August smiled into your cheek and chuckled softly, “Yes, you did.” His moustache scratched against your cheek, he smelt like Guinness and felt like total warmth on a cold night. His thumb rubbed beneath your arm near the space of your ribs and breast.
The dealer couldn’t give you that many chips but digitally sent a code with the prize to August as owner of the card that bought the chips in the first place.
August laughed and spun you around on your feet, he tugged you away from the roulette table towards the dance floor where a slow dance was taking place to the sombrous tones of Frank Sinatra.
“Oh my god, I did that, I can’t believe I just did that,” you muttered happily in a daze, a high. You suddenly forgot entirely everything that August had done to you in the past few weeks. You forgot your entire purpose of why you were even there. His charming face was beaming in pride.
His warm lips pecked your forehead and cheek, he repeated, “Yes, you did.”
“I mean I know it’s your money but just the thrill of just- my god,” you sucked in a new breath of air and sighed, “Thankyou for letting me experience that.”
He hummed and swayed your bodies together slowly. He could’ve picked you up and carried you away and you weren’t sure if you would’ve protested.
“My money?” he chuckled, “I can right you a cheque if you’d really like. Bank it tomorrow.”
You scoffed in disbelief, you shook your head at him, “Don’t be mean August, like you’d just give me three million dollars, be fucking for real.”
He pinched your bottom making you hiss lightly as you danced in his arms and he scolded teasingly, “Language.”
You threw your head back and giggled. You were still riding the drunk high of life.
“Welcome to bloody Australia Mister Walker,” you tapped a finger on his chest, his suit felt so smooth and expensive like silk instead of basic cotton, “Where we say all kinds of things casually; Ass, cunt, fuck, bitch, bastard and so on.”
He bent you backwards and cradled your spine as his lips pressed up into your jaw and neck, “Oh fret not, I’ll discipline it out of you. I’d rather have you speaking like a true lady who cares about her appearance.”
You scoffed again and rolled your eyes. You didn’t give a flying care in the world what he thought about a true lady. He wasn’t a true gentleman. You pushed a little away from him.
The high of life became dangerous impulsive boldness, “Why? So I can teach you that true gentleman don’t drug and rape women?”
A few heads turned at your words out of the thousands dancing and gambling around you. His jolly gaze turned black and ice. His frown was deep and displeasure greatly obvious. He looked ready to kill you...
The shudder in your chest returned. It was like a bucket of icy water dunking over your head. That glare made you sober and sheepish. You pushed away gently and smoothed your dress out.
“I...I need to pee.”
You didn’t actually, yet the fear consumed you enough, blanketing over you and you needed an escape from the danger you had willingly nosed dived into. It was the only explanation for you to flee briefly and compose yourself for more of his aggression.
His hands were tight on your wrists.
“August, I’m sorry...please let me go to the loo.”
He let you go, and muttered, “It’s upstairs, be quick, we need to talk.”
You hissed when the blood pumped back into your flesh, you felt your wrists throb in rings. Stepping backwards shakily you almost fell back into a passing waiter. It felt impossible to remove your eyes from him, to make sure he wasn’t following you.
You could feel him watching you as you kept walking to those stairs. Up the grand stairs you scurried away from him for the seconds he was distracted looking away from you, grabbing a new drink.
Just find the ladies toilet and he can’t come in right?
Your head was pounding. Breathless and flushed you didn’t look at the signs on doors. You didn’t even need the bathroom, honestly, you just needed to sit down.
Relief filled you as you looked behind. You couldn’t see August and knew he still wasn’t following you. You leant against a door and turned the handle hoping out of all these doors, this would be a toilet.
When you fell inside. You noted the room was empty…but there was also no toilet…instead there was a couch to your left and to your right a massive wall with a control panel and TVs lining the wall…on the televisions were colourful pictures moving, replaying the events of the party…they were the viewpoints of cameras…security.
You were in the security room!
With widened eyes you closed the door behind you entirely and awed at the stuff you were watching…
There wasn’t just one party going on tonight.
The screen showed the rest of the club you hadn’t had the pleasure of observing. The back stages dancers change room, the full game slot casino, a smokers room where a stripper was sucking some random man off. Your stomach twisted.
There were men sniffing coke off a woman’s thigh. Other people in another room were injecting each other with heroin.
There was a room auctioning paintings and appeared to be a business meeting. Multiple men were sitting on couches and bar stools watching while a stunning woman in the middle waving at expensive items…. Katarina Vikander. She wore a stunning green gown that hugged her body, around her neck was a thick row of diamonds, she looked like an old Hollywood actress.
You stepped closer to the screen and traced the figures of people and faces you recognised. There were even famous local politicians. Your mouth felt dry. You knew it was a simple auction but the items were familiar, they were museum pieces. There were items that morally speaking belonged to the indigenous Meanjin people. It was a inexplicable scandal.
Then there was Lloyd! He was sitting beside an older man with the bald head and beady eyes. In that man’s lap was a young woman with dark flowing hair in a very short dress, definitely young enough to be his granddaughter. yuck!
It was a room of gentlemen and their own weapons to show off. Guns and blades you were confident weren’t even allowed to be sold in Australia after the Port Arthur Massacre. There were tommy guns and automatic rifles. There were trench knives and a urban skinner daggers. Things you’d only seen in movies.
You pulled out your phone and started taking photos of the screens. They would be bad quality photos, not well enough to publish to the press but it didn’t matter, evidence was still important. August was willingly allowing this in his club and on the unlikely chance he wasn’t, it was still occurring in his club, he’d be responsible.
You thought about the amount of people these guns and knives could or had already killed. You clicked some more and quickly sat in the empty chair. There was a couch behind you, you noted the strange red splatter stains over the cushions. You took another picture. You didn’t want to consider if it was blood because that lead to the question of whose blood it was...you shuddered.
No wonder he didn’t appear as excited as you when you won the three million dollars…he probably made that in a week from profits out of these illegal auctions.
You held your breath and watched the screens further.
Soon Lloyd would bust the club. He’d call back up and the floor would go wild. Now it was a matter of waiting. Any minute now, you bet.
You took photos of the men doing drugs with the strippers and the gambling and finally the bar. You wondered how much of the alcohol would’ve been watered down to save money. It even clicked to wonder if the club even had a license to sell alcohol while the casino was open.
You were checking the photos and perched yourself on the couch when the door opened. You gasped and dropped your phone on the ground with a loud clatter.
The looming shadow entered the dark room. It was him…August…he stood inside and closed the door, away from the party, silencing the booming hustle and bustle.
“No photos tonight?” his brows lifted and a smile spread while he tutted, “Oh my sweet girl, you’re breaking daddy’s heart.”
You leant down and grabbed the phone again and shoved it into your clutch purse.
“I-I wasn’t using my c-camera…” you poorly lied.
You stood up spritely and tried to find away around him. He leant against the door, blocking your escaped. His eyes rolled from the screens back to you.
He flashed a sinister fanged smile and shook his head, “Oh no, no, I think it’s about time we chat little Miss Y/N…don’t you?”
You pouted and snarled, “Get out of my way August.”
He shook his head again and sucked his teeth, “Tell me why you really came tonight, and I will.”
You gulped. You clenched your first and said louder, “Get out of my way August or I’ll fucking scream and I’ll make a damn scene.”
He stood in silence for three solid seconds before nodding.
He moved away from the door but as you tried to pass him reaching for the doorhandle, he grabbed your waist and hauled you back. You were launched back across the floor and landed hard and sharp on the carpet. The air was knocked from your lungs and your hands lost grip of your clutch.
Gaining your bearings quickly, you shrieked and cowered. You raised your hands and shuddered. You were so sure he was going to punch and kick you, instead a soft strong hand curled over your wrist and tugged you to your knees.
“Come here,” he softly murmured, while he gently made you crawl over to the couch. On the cushions he sat before he pulled you into his thick lap. Your legs were trapped between his, while you were held on his lap.
You felt so small, so weak. His hands were warm, and strong, you were growing sore as your body overcame the shock of him throwing you back into the room. It made you feel terrified at how simply he was able to manhandle you. All those weeks without his presence had somehow made you forget how deadly and scary he could be. And despite being in his club, in a public place, he still had the upperhand and power to take what he wanted.
Your body shook as his hands touched you. He was so calm…it was unsettling and struck icily in your blood. This was the August you met that afternoon two weeks ago. This is the August that duct taped you and forced you to cum in your fathers recliner chair.
“You wearing any wires baby?” He cooed as his hand stuck down your dress top and another slipped up your thighs. You didn’t fight, but your fingers pleadingly hooked into his shirt sleeve while his hand dug around and slid around your breasts, groping your soft flesh.
His hand the groped around your thighs and lingered when cupping near your underwear. A stream of sweat trailed your face, what if he felt how wet you were in your underwear?
You shook your head and pitifully whimpered, “N-no, just the ph-phone in my bag.”
His lips pressed against your shoulder and neck before finally going to your ear, “This is what’s going to happen…” he purred, “You’re going to be my good girl and do everything I tell you, or else I’m going kill your piggy friend.”
You gasped as his fingers rubbed at your underwear covered clit.
“Wh-what?!”
“Yes poppet, I know about him,” he chuckled and sucked on your earlobe loudly, “He’s not very smart, coming here…his wire, he’s wearing…it’s not going to pick up anything.”
Your eyes dared to glance at the cameras, Lloyd was still on the screen, still watching the auction.
August moved his mouth to your other ear and moved your underwear aside, his finger easily slipped inside of you, tearing a whine from your lips at how wet you were.
“Has he fucked you yet?” He mocked, “Has the piggy touched what’s mine? Stuffed that dirty cock in this pretty puppy pussy?”
You choked on a rising sob, “No, now please st-stop.”
Tears streamed down your cheeks, tears August kissed away softly. You were watching the screens, Lloyd was looking around the room from the chair he was sitting in. Someone handed him a drink. You didn’t know what he was saying as he laughed at someone. You just wanted him to call back up, before you potentially were raped again.
August paused and slipped in another thick finger, “So…you thought you’d help him? Think I’d be so blind? It breaks my heart that either of you thought I was that dumb. This whole time I’ve been telling myself you weren’t a threat, just a dumb little girl…but that’s not entirely true huh? Miss picture perfect, taking photos she fucking well shouldn’t be.”
Your whimpered and wept with salty tears that stung hard. You heard him shuffle as he propped you onto one knee. A moment later, something hard and cold touched your cheek. You were certain this was your fault. You didn’t distract him enough, instead you ran off like a cowered. You sobbed and found it difficult to breathe seeing what that hard object in the corner of your eye was. If you weren’t so scared you might’ve screamed…
“Did you wear this for me baby?” He asked, rubbing your cheek with the warm tip of the gun, “Awfully pretty, awfully expensive for someone like you.”
Your eyes fell down at the dress you’d bought earlier that day. God you regretted it all now, all the excitement you felt buying it for tonight, it was all backfiring. You bought it knowing this was something he might want, it made you feel rich and sensual. It was your shield of confidence, ironic how a shield means nothing compared to a gun pressed to your head.
“Yes,” you wailed, “Please just let us go.”
“Us?” He scoffed scornfully, “And you’re telling me, you’re not fucking him.”
His fingers curled harshly and pinched your inner walls, cupping and shaking your entire cunt in his hand roughly. 
You whined and choked, “it’s- n-not his faul- fault…I’m…I’m-”
Your eyes widened and your mouth fell silent…Jesus fucking Christ. August was covered in a hot wet warmth. He grunted, slowly, he removed his two thick fingers out of your pussy and shook his hand of the wet liquid pouring out with three large wrist flicks.
Mortified, a blubbering fest left you mouth. A line of ‘’please” and “sorry” poured desperately out of you.
Your piss puddled the floor down to his shoes.
You had half expected him to throw you off or kill you in disgust. Instead, August hissed a little as the warm liquid soaked over his trousers. You flinched away. He put his gun back in his pocket.
He laughed darkly, “You are so silly huh? So goddamn innocent,” his wet head cupped your neck and clenched your jaw, “I think I’ve amused you long enough baby, I think it’s time I show you why you were put in my care.”
You fluttered your wet eyes at him, “Please just let Lloyd go,” you swallowed a gulp of air, “I’ll do whatever you want.”
You gagged at the acidic smell of your own urine on his hand burning into your nose. His tongue clicked and he wagged his other finger at you.
“You’re about to see what happens to shits who think to try and bring me and my friends down, go on sunshine, look at the TV’s.”
His hand jerked your head forward. You were forced to watch everything happening in the room where Lloyd was. Within seconds, there were two security guards dragging in a limping man over a giant square of tarp.
“This dumb piece of shit decided to double dip my profits in a club I own down in Sydney…dickhead thought to embezzle me…I don’t like when men take what’s mine…”
The struggling man had a black pillow case shoved over his head. He was pushed to his knees in front of Brandon Sullivan who held a gun he took out from the briefcase. Katarina stood away from the centre of the room and watch him with the brightest smile.
The gun from the suitcase wasn’t particularly impressive. It was a hand gun with an ivory hilt. American.
The barrel was pressed to the pillow case. Your eyes widened.
Your bottom lip fell, “Wait please no, he can’t, stop-”
It was two little light flickers from the tip of the weapon, the bag flutter backwards as the man’s brains were blown through. It wasn’t like the movies. His body just flopped and slammed down on the floor and in seconds the blue tarp was rolled up and dragged away, no time for the blood to soak into the auction room carpet.. Brandon put the gun down and clapped his hands.
Lloyd didn’t flinch…his eyes hid inside his cup.
You gagged and bent your head opening your mouth above Augusts spread knees, the floor not only covered in your urine was also granted a haul of your bile. The whiskey you finished from Lloyds cup came back up hard burning your throat.
Why wasn’t Lloyd arresting them there and then? Why didn’t he leave to call back up?
You trembled watching the detective standup and walk over to order a drink at a private bar. He was so vulnerable standing in the den. And he was wearing a wire that wasn’t even working and you couldn’t tell him. You were helpless, Lloyd was helpless.
“I could kill him right now if I wanted to…” August cooed as you sobbed with the shock of seeing a real person killed in front of your eyes on screen.
You wailed and turned your body away. Buring your face into his shoulder and begged, “Please don’t hurt him, please, dear god. I’ll do whatever you want!”
“Anything?” He sarcastically gasped.
Your whimpered, “Yes!”
He was laughing and humming while he was toying with what he’d do to you. He bounced his knee you were on forcing you to land hard on your crotch and gasping everytime your clit made contact with his thigh and knee.
When he stopped, he pinched your wet inner thigh, “Call me Daddy you piss soaked slut.”
You nodded and tried to slow your meltdown, “O-okay d-daddy, I will.”
“Are you sorry for trying to trick me, whore?” He said harshly.
Your chin shook as you choked out, “S-so sorry daddy. Please forgive me.”
He liked that with how he grunted and moaned.
“I guess I should huh? You come in here, looking for dirt, but you win me gold.”
He pushed you off his lap. You were scared and embarrassment. The feeling of the wet that ran down your legs was drying up, yet the puddle that was drying up was huge. The scent was pungent. Your legs were weak and wobbly. You stumbled and grabbed your clutch with your phone inside.
You heard him clear his throat and flinched when he stated, “We are going back to my office. I have wipes, and spare clothes.”
That would’ve sounded nice except you knew better, you knew he’d just rape you in there…and with these sketchy men in the auction room you could only imagine what else August had business in. Human trafficking on top of all these other crimes wouldn’t have entirely surprised you.
You needed to find a way to get away. Since Lloyd still hadn’t gotten the back up he promised, you knew you would need to abandon him too. Guilt filled your belly, you worried for the cop’s safety, but it came to the dilemma…would you risk this for the chance to save his life, or save yourself and pack up and run for it with the cash he had given you. The amount of money in your clutch could buy you a ticket up north all the way to Townsville. You hardly could imagine a British man like August in the sweltering heat of northern Queensland…only issue? It was a perfect place to hide a body. Sugar cane fields were burned daily up there. If you wanted to dump a body, it would be perfect and convenient…you thought about moving in the opposite direction to New South Wales. The Blue Mountains had a cult you had heard of, maybe they could hide you from him.
“Y/N,” August broke you from your thoughts, he touched your chin and matched your gaze, “Did you hear me? I’m going to clean you up, sort you out.”
You took a ragged breath in and nodded, “Y-yes da-dad-" you gulped loudly, "daddy.”
He smirked and pressed his mouth to yours, pulling back with a sigh, he murmured, “That’s a good girl.”
He placed his hand on your back and moved you forward to the entrance door.
Your fingers reached out and touched the handle. Your other hand was clenching your bag tightly. It was only a door…But the knob turned, and you were faster than him. You slammed it shut behind you when you rushed out the door. You raced and shoved people aside. You heard him rip and bang the door open. You felt his heavy feet chasing behind you.
You felt so fucked! Your heart was palpating, and your thighs were chaffing with that sour smell of your pee dress soaked. You almost slipped down the stairs but managed to get to the bottom before seeing him starting to run down from the top.
Guests were staring but who cared? The party was wild and many just giggled thinking it was a big game.
It wasn’t a game though, truly you believed now he was going to kill you and Lloyd if you didn’t get out now. You had no idea where that auction room was hidden. You could grab him and bolt. These seconds were precious, and you just needed to get out onto the street.
You got to the bar and as you ran forward, you saw the fire alarm off the side. You slammed a fist down hard and bolted for the exit. Sprinklers went off wild, the rain made the party wet and all the main lights activate blinding half of the club. The other guests became frantic hearing the chance of a fire happening. Everyone was starting to rush out of the club with you. You swore and hoped that Lloyd was going to be able to get out safely too.
There was no way you’d be able to go home tonight. You were a dead woman walking with the content of your phone and the murder you witnessed. You tried to find an uber driving past but the fear that August was behind you made you keep moving.
You kept running even as you got outside in the cold air. The sound of car horns and lights of the streets were chaotically plaguing your mind. You didn’t have a clue where you were running. You just kept going. There were roads totally dead and quiet, you ran across without pressing any walking buzzers. You needed to find safety. Your feet raced down pavement paths until they hit the soft dewy grass of the park. The parkour park was near the train lines, you could hear the rattling wheels and noisy horn of a passenger train go through, leaving it impossible to tell if someone was following you… But you heard could him, you swore you could hear his catching breath and hear those leather shoes sprinting behind you.
You squealed in the dark as your ran past an empty children’s playground. He was big and he was fast. You felt his hand in the air trying to grab you and successfully you dodged him. You rushed down a street of abandoned shops and tripped over a groove in the ground that you missed in the ground.
And that’s how this all started don’t you see? Don’t you remember?...
A rush of air sucked out from your lungs as your hands and knees collided with the gravel pavement. Your stupid kitten heel snapped and your handbag had flown a couple metres in front of you.
Your heart thudded against your ribs as you poorly attempted to catch your anxious breath.
“Dumb. Very stupid. I perceived you to be smarter than this…” his voice dripped into your burning hot ears.
He was behind you, you knew that…with his hands in his suit pockets. His expensive leather shoes crunched on the rocky path the closer he neared you.
You hissed when the chilly night air whistled against your cut up palms. Blood rose up from your skin, shining in the light of the city lamp. You flinched as his two fingers traced along your spine and pressed harshly down on the back of your neck.
With watery eyes, you watched him walk pass and collect your handbag. His lithe fingers dove inside and pulled out the phone. His lips pursed as he let it fall from his hand before crushing it under his foot.
The salty tears raced down your cheeks, gliding into your trembling mouth.
If only you could’ve screamed for help. If only there was someone in the park to see what had unfolded.
A hiccup escaped you and he softly cooed, “It’s alright now, I think it’s about time you received an education, my darling.”
You shook your head and felt the rise of bile in your throat.
“Please,” you begged with a rasp voice, “I won’t tell anyone. Let me go. I swear I won’t go to the police, just let me go!”
He tutted his tongue and wagged his finger. He crouched down, his soft hand combed into your sweat soaked hair and tugged your head up. Your eyes met his icy gaze.
Hopelessness filled you. Begging had fallen on deaf ears.
“That’s right, you won’t tell anyone…but I’m not finished with you yet.”
As a gasp lifted from your lips he chuckled, “You’re precious if you think I’m letting you go after seeing that.”
His cold palm grabbed the sides of your throat and began to choke you. As the oxygen was restricted, your little hands clawed desperately at his callous hand. Your feet flailed against the gravel. Tears raced down your face. It was impossible to scream out without any air to cry with. With every passing second, a dizzy blanket was clouding your mind and filling your eyes with black spots. His glare made your knees buckle. Exhaustion from fighting was taking over, your nails left his hands, your eyes were finding it difficult to stay open. Eventually your lashes shut, and you let your mind drown in the airless space of time....
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Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane.
You thought he had killed you. You genuinely believed as the blood pulverised your skull, he had choked you to death.
You felt cold and hungry…the smell of hot Chinese food woke you up.
You curled up in a tight ball, hugging your naked body. Your couldn’t see anything. Your face had been blind folded. Your mouth was chewing on something long, some type of rubbery gag. And around your neck you felt a tight squeeze and the bite of a chain…a collar? Your fingers tried to pull them off but they were tied around your head and you felt the cold shape of padlock..
The carpet scuffed.
Someone was in the room, getting up from a chair. You heard a masculine breath and you trembled covering your chest and cupping your last as your curled back up in a ball.
You were laying on a soft blanket and mattress.
You whined as a warm human finger raced down your arm and the hand splayed out over your skin.
“Good morning, pet…I’m glad I was here to see you wake up,” you heard August moan.
You felt his fuzzy moustache tough the corner of your gaged lips.
You flinched and rubbed your face into the pillows above you.
The chain moved and taunted you backwards until you sat up so you could breathe.
His hand touched your inner thigh, you felt the bed tilt to his weight.
“I bet you’re hungry, I could hear your tummy growl for quite some time before you woke up.”
You felt his fingers unlock the gag and pull it down your chin.
You gasped and enjoyed the ability to breathe properly again. You were still stuck in total darkness however.
You heard a fork clinking with a bowl. You could hear August blow on the hot food and were told to open up.
Your lips parted and your tongue was touched by the greasy goodness of Chinese honey chicken.
You chewed and tore off the meat from his fork.
“Another,” he said as he fed you some more.
Your hands reached out to hold the fork yourself before you heard him casual say, “Keep those paws down, I haven’t given you permission to use them.”
Your might’ve been blindfolded but you knew he was looking at your body. You lifted your knees up to your chin and tapped your arms around your legs.
A cold bottle of water was pushed to your lips and your mouth greedily suckled it down. You knew it could be laces with drugs but your mouth was dry and you knew you were dehydrated.
You gaspingly asked as the bottle was pulled away, “Are you going to kill me?”
You didn’t want to die but it wasnt your choice. You knew this process would be quicker and easier if you allowed death to come…you would rather die than have to succumb to rape.
“No puppy…not today.”
You didn’t feel relief. Actually you felt your chest shake as you tried to hold back your crying.
Your heard him out the fork down and felt him come onto the bed. He pulled you into his arms and let you sob. He rubbed your back and hushed you gently.
It took everything in you to not fight him…you sagged into his touch and let him hold and rock you until you composed your tears.
You should fight him…if he’s going to kill you…go out with a fight.
“Would you like some more food?” He asked and you meekly nodded, “Yes please.”
He tutted and softly scolded, “That’s not how we ask now is it?”
You couldn’t see him but your fist flew up and caught him in his shoulder, “If you th-think I’m going to call you ‘daddy’…you’re fucking nuts!”
And you truly readied yourself for the beating of a lifetime…rather…his fingers moved up and unlocked your blindfold, pulling it off your head.
You winced as the bright light of day pelted your eyes…
He was sitting on the bed. A long button up shirt with rolled up sleeves and dress pants still wearing his leather shoes. His fingers pinched your chin.
“Still want to be a bad girl?”
You realised he expected an answer. And bravely your jerked your chin away.
“You can rape me, cut me, kill me...I’m not calling you fucking ‘daddy’!” You slapped his hand away and crawled to the other side of the bed feebly. You shrieked as he slapped your naked ass hard and laughed.
“That’s alright… I’ll talk to you again in a few more hours.”
He pushed you down and slapped your hands. He put the blind fold and the gag back on. He took the cup and Chinese food away….he left you…vulnerable and nude on the bed. Alone with your thoughts for the next few hours.
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 Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane
He left you blind folded for hours right? Or was it just thirty minutes? You couldn’t tell…blind folded and gagged. You could move your arms and blindly crawl around the bed but the chain would grow taunt if you tried to climb off the mattress. You considered hanging yourself…would it have been easier to just let him find your corpse then wait to be raped?
You rolled around and felt around the covers. You were helpless and scared. For all you knew he could’ve been watching you quietly.
Your crying was muffled with the gag between your teeth. Drool dropped down your chin and dribbled to your chest. You kept wiping it up feeling revolted with yourself.
You tugged and pulled the chain, yet no freedom was granted in your attempts. You grew tired, the panic in your chest exhausted you.
Hesitantly you pulled the duvet back and wiggled yourself in between the massive pillows, you fell asleep…and it was daunting.
It didn’t help that you couldn’t tell when you drifted off to sleep and the first thing you saw was dad. He was coming home from work and you were in the lounge room flicking through the tv channels. When you saw him come through the door your were scared it was August, but seeing your dad made your heart burst with joy. Relief and peace clouded your mind.
“it was all a bad dream!” You said as you got off the couch and raced to hug your father. He was never much of a hugger, that was okay…
His hand pat your back and you sobbed, “It was so awful dad! I thought you had died, everyone said you were dead but I knew there was no way. Thank god it was just a bad drea-”
He was skinny …you hugged him tight …why did he feel so hard and sharp around his body?
“Dad, I missed you,” you licked your lips, “come on I’ll make you something to eat, why are you so thin?” You moved your head back and screamed. His work shirt was stained in blood and his skin and muscle were rotting off his body. His cheeks were hallow and the tip of his nose was gone. His eyes totally white. A slice settle on his face. He opened his mouth slowly to speak and a rotting tongue rolled out over his chin.
You kept screaming and saying “No!” Over and over again. You moved backwards and fell over on a bowl of porridge. His body fell forward on top of yours.
You couldn’t breathe from the fear. The dream went dark in shadows and it clicked that perhaps you’d woken up. But you weren’t entirely sure. You kicked your legs and curled up in a ball. You wailed and hiccupped. The gag in your mouth brought your mind back to where you were. Where you’d been trapped. You hit the mattress over and over in frustration and anger.
“Lmph ma gaoh!” let me go, you howled.
Your knees trembled and you felt nauseas. You shook your head, trying to fight the vomit that could be rising to your chest. You knew if you vomited it would go everywhere and some might stay inside your mouth or throat or up into your nose.
 You whimpered, “Peaff!” Please!
Your body tightened…you felt your bowels grow sore and your bladder tight.
Dread filled your mind with the harsh reality that if you don’t get off the bed you were going to be sitting in your own fluids. It cracked your mind….it broke your own heart…you started to scream knowing what your kidnapper wanted to hear..
“Daffy! Peaf half mah!” Daddy please help me, you bawled over and over while your legs crossed tightly and you tried to hold in your bowels. Your toes curled and your acrylic nails dug deep into the skin of your palm. You scolded yourself for letting at service woman Drew to convince getting your nails done.
It was agony, holding in for so long. Your hands cupped yourself in hopes to stop any form of self leaking.
But after the fifth or sixth begging sob…you felt his presence return. It was like he never left, you didn’t hear his feet walk over to you, you only felt his hands…he unlocked you from the chain and guided you to the guest toilet. He took off your gag and your mouth slackened. The drool that hit your feet and floor with a splat made your shoulders curl in humiliating embarrassment.
You were sat on the toilet seat. You knew he stood waiting. It made you feel worthless and disrespected, the lack of privacy as he watched you push your bladder and bowels.
And that wasnt even the worst of it.
Reaching for toilet paper to the side of you, your hands were slapped away. You heard the roll move and a quick tear. You held out your hand to take it but his hand touched your thick and you twisted away, choking on a sob….the sick fucker wouldn’t let you wipe your own body... As he wiped the piss, you grabbed his wrist and tried to tug him away from your intimates.
“I’m not a baby,” you croaked quietly. You heard him hum, “I can do it myself”
“I know you’re not a baby…I just want to remind you this body belongs to me,” he murmured as he flushed the toilet paper away and you heard his hands wash under the running water of the sink.
Your knees bounced with anxious impatience. What was he planning to do to you?
He got you to your feet and guided you back. When the tiles became carpet you guessed you were being put back onto the bed.
He locked the chain back to the collar and whispered into your temple, “Just a moment.” You felt him move away and heard him drag something heavy from under the bed. Your stomach dropped and thought the worst.
He’s grabbing power tools…he’s going to chop and stab and beat me up and then dice me up into tiny pieces, you but your lips and let your tears flow.
“Wh-what’ are you going to do to m-me?” You dared to ask the maniac millionaire.
You flinched at his echoing chuckle, “Just tie you up for now, but let’s see where that takes us? You were talking in your sleep, did you know you do that?”
Your shoulders shook and you curled. You moved back to the head of the bad and clenched the fabric tightly. You felt him dropping things on the bed. His torture tools….
“Please don’t do this,” you tried to beg, “I haven’t done anything wrong. I just want to go h-home please.”
You hated the weakness in your voice. A part of you was angry and demanding you to claw his eyes out and fight to the death. You just weren’t sure what was the right thing to do anymore. What was the least painful.
Warm fingers brushed along your shoulder, and you gasped a little too loudly, he laughed.
“Easy now, I’m just taking off the blindfold, or would you prefer I leave it on?”
Your eyes watered under the fabric, your voice broke out into a whimper, "Off please..."
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HELPLINES:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .
Australian Helpline Services
UK Helpline Services
American Helpline Services
India Helpline Services.
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sillyrabbit81 · 1 year
Text
The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Fifteen
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Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.
A reverse harem, biker AU.
Part Fifteen Summary: Marshall agonises while Lori takes matters into her own hands.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC
Word Count: Approx. 3k
Warnings:
Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.
Part Fifteen Warnings: slight angst, mild violence, smut, p in v sex,
Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .
Been a while since I wrote a sex scene with a character other than Sy! I hope you enjoy it.
Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.
Masterlist
Parts Masterlist
Part Fourteen Part Sixteen
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Marshall
Lori sedately followed me as I led her to her room. 
I was in no hurry, on the contrary, I would have liked to walk with her for a while, hold her hand and do some of the usual stuff you do with a girl you like. But that's not how this was going to go, not in this situation, so I folded my arms across my chest and kept my pace to match hers.
“Did you get everything you needed with Mike?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said softly, “the packages should be at the post office tomorrow.”
“I'll send Mike to pick them up in the afternoon.”
Her brows furrowed, but she nodded.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“I told Mike I was going to hang out with him tomorrow afternoon. But it's not like I'm going anywhere for a while, there will be plenty of afternoons.”
“No. You and Mike can do your thing. I will go and pick them up myself.”
“You will?”
“Sure. You seem to enjoy his company. You smile a lot with him.”
She lowered her eyes and grinned.
“See? Thinking about him makes you smile,” I chuckled. Her face dropped a little. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, but then shook her head, “I was thinking… Have you heard from Sy?.”
“No.” Her frown deepened. “Are you worried about him?”
She shrugged. 
“Do you miss him?”
She shrugged again, but with a forced carelessness that made it obvious that she was.
“I’m sure he misses you too.”
We stopped outside the door to her room. She made no move to open her door so I waited, leaning against the wall while she appeared to be thinking.
“What I said to you this morning,” she started, “what I accused you of, it was wrong of me.”
I shook my head. “Your reaction was completely understandable. We were out of line. And considering where you come from, it makes sense that you might see it the way you do.”
She raised her head and her normally steel blue eyes had taken on a dark smokey hue that sent a bolt of energy tingling through my nerves.
“I don’t see it that way anymore anymore,” she said, huskily.
For a moment I let myself entertain the fantasy that I could spend the night with her again without the mellowing effects of weed to kill my most feral instincts. Heat flooded my skin as I remembered the weight of her body against mine, the sweet citrus like smell of her hair, and the softness of her thigh. I didn’t think there was a snowman’s chance in hell that I could sleep next to her sober and not shred her clothes to pieces to get a taste of the silky hidden skin between her legs. 
I clenched my jaw as I shut that line of thought down fast. I hadn’t changed my mind from earlier; as far as I was concerned, I was no longer a party to the pact. However, I was not made of stone and I knew my resolution could only withstand so much temptation before it crumbled, so I turned towards my door. Then her hand came to rest on my bicep, her gentle touch halted my escape and my back went ramrod straight.
“Spend the night with me?” she asked, her tone so softly pleading that it took my breath away.
“I can’t,” I said, forcing the words out before I had a chance to say something else.
She withdrew her hand quickly, as if my reply had burned her.
The look on her face made me sick to my stomach. The rejection and confusion marring her dollishly pretty features was almost as bad as the accusatory look of betrayal she had given me that morning.
“You don’t want this,” I explained. “What you said this morning, you were wrong, but you were also right. What my Brothers and I did, what we agreed to, we had no right.”
“You said it was my choice.”
“We did, but we put you in an uncomfortable situation you didn’t deserve and one you don’t want, not really.”
“Oh and this situation,” she moved her hand back and forth between us before placing them on her hips, “is less uncomfortable? Rejection is what I deserve then?”
“Lori,” I said, forcing myself to keep a lid on the frustration that began to boil in my guts, “Do you deliberately misinterpret everything I say, or are you just childishly stubborn on purpose?”
Her jaw dropped and she rounded on me, poking her finger into the centre of my chest, forcing me to take backward steps until my back hit the wall.
“You’re a manipulative prick. All of you are. Was this the plan the whole time then? Playing with my feelings, deceiving me into agreeing to your ridiculous pact and then telling me it was a joke?”
“Lori–”
She pushed me then, her palms bouncing hard off my shoulders, and although it didn’t hurt, it was bloody annoying. I grabbed her hands, turning her in my arms until they crossed over her torso and her back pressed against my chest.
“Let me go,” she yelled while she struggled, pulling and yanking on my arms.
“Calm down,” I growled into her ear, trying desperately not to harden up as she twisted like a kitten trying to get free. 
“I’m not your plaything,” she hissed, “You’re supposed to be protecting me or have you forgotten what you’re being paid for?”
“And that’s exactly why I said no. Do you think I don’t want you? Do you not notice how when you’re in the room I can’t look away?”
She stopped fighting, her body was still tense, but she wasn’t thrashing. I dropped my head into her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, my lips brushing against her tender flesh.
“Every inch of me wants you, wants to be inside you,” I mumbled as I my will began slipping through my fingers like sand. 
I released her and ran my hands over her body, until they rested against the burning hot skin of her belly where her tank top had ridden up in the struggle. Her hand covered mine and she didn’t stop me as I slid them under the thin fabric. I rumbled out a groan as the soft weight of her breasts filled my hand, and her hard little nipple teased my palm.
“You’re a constant, tormenting, burn in my chest. Right here,” I placed our hands over her heart, “I ache for you.”
She whined weakly, her body melted against mine as she turned her head towards me.
My lips were on hers before I could think. She was soft, warm, and so perfectly lush that my whole body shuddered and I groaned into her mouth. Without stopping the kiss I grasped her waist, guided us blindly to her door, and fumbled with the handle.
Lifting my lips from hers long enough to turn her, I took her to the bed and laid her on her back before capturing her mouth again. Her thighs fell apart beneath me and I spread my legs to make her widen them until I was grinding my trapped and throbbing cock against her heat. She gasped into my kiss and I didn’t hesitate to slip my tongue into the plush warmth of her mouth. I groaned at the taste of her as she kissed me back and sunk her fingers into my beard, nails scratching gently at my cheeks and jaw. 
Somewhere in the back of my mind a voice told me to stop, that I shouldn’t take her like this. I lifted my head, trying to swallow my most violent basic instincts while I struggled to find the words I needed to stop this from going any further but my body was too raw and my mind was skirting too close to the edge of reason. Then I felt her move beneath me, her hips rocking, lifting up to meet mine and a greedy feral urge overtook any rational thought. 
Fuck it. I was hardly on track for sainthood anyway.
I growled, it's the only way I can describe the animalistic groan I released as pulled her tank over her head. Catching both of her slight wrists, I held them above her head in one hand while the other pulled her jeans and panties down her thighs. She cycled her long lush legs to help me peel her flushed body out of the skin tight clothes.
Below a small short patch of hair, her delicate smooth slit was glistening. As if time had decided to stand still, her legs lazily fell open and she blossomed before me, revealing with painstaking slowness her dewy centre. My cock jerked at the sight, desperate to plunge into that soft and sleek slit.
My fingertip circled her nipple, once, twice, three times, my head pounding as I watched the already pebbled skin grow tighter. She mewled as I took her little pink bud into my mouth; her hips rolled and her arms pulled against my hand while her head fell onto the bed with a long throaty moan. God, that sound made my already throbbing cock so fucking hard, I felt like I could fuck through a brick wall.
“Shh,” I soothed and slipped two fingers into her mouth. Her eager lips wrapped around them and her tongue slid over the pads while she sucked. With a rumble in my throat, I replaced my fingers with my tongue and she reciprocated, hungrily drawing me into her mouth with a torrid pull.
I ghosted my wet fingers over her slit, parting her, making her open for me. Fuck, she felt nice; delicate, small, warm, slick, swollen… just so fucking nice.
Barely able to control the primal part of my brain that screamed at me to completely ruin all that sweet softness, I flipped her onto her chest and lifted her hips until she was on her knees. Her cry of shock hardly slowed me as I clawed at my jeans and lowered them just enough.
“I want to take you like this,” I mumbled as I leaned over her and ran my hand from her hips, down the concave of her waist, and over her ribs until I cupped her breast. My cock nudged against her core and I felt her sharp intake of breath.
“Oh my God,” she whined.
Gathering her thick braid in my fist, I kissed her just below her hairline before turning her head towards mine. She was the perfect picture of a woman lush with arousal; eyes heavy lidded, cheeks rosy, her mouth parted as she panted in shallow breaths.
“Yes,” she whimpered, bobbing her head and chasing my lips.
I let her catch me and she kissed me hard, moaning softly as my tongue met hers. I pulled away but her teeth sank into my lower lip making me hiss and my hips jack. I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“We’ll go slow next time,” I rasped, rising to my knees and I sunk into her molten velvet heat.
“Fuck,” we both groaned as our bodies met.
I stilled, the thrill of being inside her almost too much as she shuddered around me. I swept my hand down her spine to the back of her neck. Her skin was so smooth, supple, and even in this position, with my cock balls deep within her quivering core, she still had that seductive allure of feminine purity that I wanted to take apart piece by painstaking piece.
What the fuck was I doing?
“Shit,” I muttered and started to pull out, “I’m sorry.”
Her hand shot back, grabbing hold of me and sliding down my still clothed arm until her hand held mine.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
All I could feel was the pounding of my heart, from my fingertips to my toes, to my cock. She squeezed my hand while she lifted her head, determination radiating from her fierce, stormy grey eyes. 
Then she moved.
Only a small twitch of her hips, but oh God, the tight, silky, slick friction was heaven. The hold she had on my hand grew tighter and she rocked again as a breathy moan floated from her throat.
“Fuck, Lori…” my voice trailed off as she continued the shallow erotic rotations of her hips and arching flex of her spine.
My lust overrode the last of my hesitations and I began countering her movements, rapidly dialling up the intensity until our bodies were crashing against each other. My fingers were digging into her hips while hers were clutching at the covers, our eyes were locked in a feverish hold, neither one of us able to look away.
“Come here,” I groaned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her up until her back rested against my chest. My hands moved all over her, mapping out every soft curve. 
She stretched, raising her arms to reach for me, turning my head and searching for my lips. Her kiss surged through my body, every muscle straining, the growing tension inside me had me heading for a release that was bearing down on me like a freight train.
I held her tight, one arm around her chest, my fingers mauling at her breast while the other skimmed over her taut, quivering belly going lower and lower until I brushed her clit. Her hips bucked as she cried into my mouth, and her pussy clamped down so hard on my cock, I almost lost it then and there.
Muscling her into place, I kept her still while I fucked her and worked her clit. She was trembling and her hands floundered, searching for purchase to steady herself as she got closer to the edge. I gathered her wrists in my hand and held them to her chest.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“I know, Lori, I know. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” I whispered into her neck, the skin so hot and humid that it made my lips tingle.
“Marshall… Oh my God…” 
“Let go, Lori. I need to feel you.” 
I lifted my head and found her striking, heavy lidded eyes. She was flushed, skin reddened and shiny, panting and gasping, she was more breathtaking than ever.
“Look so beautiful.”
Her eyes widened then squeezed closed as her whole body grew taut and she let out a groaning curse. 
“Fuck, Lori. Just like that.”
Her body rolled as if she were fighting me off again. I moved with her, keeping my fingers where they needed to be, fighting my own release as hers milked and pulled hard on my cock. It was a futile fight. Just as her body went lax and her head lulled against my shoulder, a hot euphoric pulse worked its way through my body.
Gripping Lori tighter, I pulled her closer to me while I pumped up into her, everything focussed on chasing my impending high. The throbbing rush crashed over me in long heady waves, each tide surging through me into her, filling her up until I had nothing left and fell onto my heels, taking her with me.
The sudden silence of the room was jarring; the only sound came from us catching our breath. Still buried deep within her core, my arms were wrapped around her with one hand cupping the firm flesh of her breast and she rested her weight on my thighs. I was sweating through my shirt, my belt buckle cut painfully into calf, and my boots - I still had my fucking boots on - dug awkwardly into my ankles, but I dared not move. I endured the discomfort to avoid the inevitable crash back to reality. Maybe if I stayed still and held her long enough, I could ward off the impending shame and perhaps Lori wouldn’t come to her senses and regret what we had done.
The dead air stretched on and on. Neither of us spoke or moved and the longer it continued, the more I feared I had catastrophically fucked up. 
Then Lori’s hands covered mine and she laced her slim fingers between my thick ones. With some hesitation I rubbed my thumbs over her skin and kissed her shoulder. 
“Say something,” she whispered.
I kissed her some more, trailing my kisses up along the ridge of her shoulders to her neck.
“Something,” I muttered.
Lori shook her head with a snicker and leaned back into me, turning her head until she could look me in the eyes. She was smiling, her face beautifully blushing and glowing, errant tendrils of her voluminous hair stuck to her slightly dampened skin. I brushed the stray locks back, tucking them into her braid as best I could.
Sighing, I shifted and Lori got off my lap, and I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down to unlace my boots. I felt her hands brush over the small of my back and she lifted my shirt to place a kiss against my spine.
“I didn’t mean for it to go like this,” I told her, placing both boots neatly on the floor and dropping my jeans beside them.
“Neither did I,” she said, raising my shirt higher until I had no choice but to lift my arms and let her pull it over my head and drop it on the floor next to my jeans.
“Lori,” I said, rotating my body and capturing her cheeks in my hands, staring resolutely into her tempestuous blue eyes, “I don’t regret it.”
Mimicking my position, she raised her hands to my cheeks and replied just as assiduously, “Neither do I.”
From deep within my gut, a warm surge of relief flooded my nervous system, making my spine feel like jelly. Expelling a held breath, I snaked an arm around her back and guided her back to the bed. Climbing on top of her, I covered her with my body and hummed at the feel of her skin against mine.
“This time,” I told her, “we’ll go slow.”
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Daddy Knows Best Masterlist
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Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader
Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy? {DARK FIC}
Dividers by: @saradika
Cover Art by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Spotify Playlist is here. 
YouTube Music playlist is here.
Parts: I - II - III - IV - V (possibly on hiatus)
My Masterlist
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keanureevesisbae · 1 year
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This is an 18+ story. TW: this story contains a lot of sex and sexual acts. If you are a minor, do not read this story.
Living with August Walker didn’t mean Grace Stanford was in a relationship with him. He was her friend and in need of a place to stay. So, since she had a room left, Grace offered him to move in with her. Little did she know: August Walker had a lot of sex. Woman after woman left their apartment, a smile of satisfaction toying on her lips.
After New Years Eve, August discovers Grace had only been on the receiving end of disappointing sex in her life and he decided to use the new year to teach her all about sex.
happy new year // an introduction // mirror mirror // sensitivity // worn out // a challenge // accidentally // something new // friends over // bad girl // handing over // insecurities // torture // fantasy turned reality // the end //
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deandoesthingstome · 9 months
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Welcoming Committee - Pt 1
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Pairing: Captain Syverson X Reader/OFC (Drea); August Walker x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); Captain Syverson x OFC (Genevieve/Neve); August Walker x Reader/OFC (Drea)
Word Count: 390
Series Summary: You and Sy have been together for three years, but you still like to mix it up. The new neighbors down the street give you a chance to do just that.
Masterlist for series warnings. Heads up: this is 18+ ONLY
Chapter Warnings: Just some sexual innuendo. Nothing's happening yet.
A/N: No cut because it's short and sweet.
It had been a week since they moved into the house down the street. Not so far down the street, that I couldn't see the front door, situated as it was in the end of the short cul-de-sac. But far enough, and in a direction that allowed me to tell myself it wasn't just a walk next door to say hi. It meant I could pretend it wasn't rude that I hadn't yet stopped over to welcome them.
Sy wanted me to remedy that. He wasn't necessarily looking for a new best friend. But he liked to know who he could count on around him. And if these new neighbors were staying, Sy needed to know if he wanted to make himself available to them as well. A solid, dependable, neighbor willing to help with projects or put in a good word with a buddy who could help with whatever situation they might find themselves in.
It wasn't often Sy met someone who needed none of his help. But not for the reason I might have thought. When we knocked on the door to introduce ourselves, I was caught with my hand out in a welcome shake motion, while Sy was pulling the mustached man into his grip.
"Walker!" I heard my husband exclaim. "How the hell long's it been? Long enough you've cleaned up and, what? Settled down? Now how'd you get someone as charming as this one here to agree to marry you?"
"Syverson," the man replied. "Let me introduce you to Genevieve. Genevieve, please meet Dean Syverson and his wife?"
"Yeah, man, yeah. Convinced Drea here to take that step with me, too. Three years now. Drea, this is August Walker. He and I go way back."
Something in the tone of my husband's voice flipped a switch in my mind. Suddenly, we weren't just here to assess. It was as if Sy knew exactly what answer he'd get when he asked the final question we always asked when we met a person or couple we both found interesting and attractive.
It was as if he no longer needed to keep the charade of sturdy, all-american man and wife we chose to present to the world until we knew we could trust someone. It was as if he already trusted this man with his life. And wife.
Part 2
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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year
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Part 1
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Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Part 2 
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A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock
Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...
Warnings: This is a vampireAU!!! There will be blood, there will be biting, there will be graphic depictions of both. It's not going to be a gorefest, though. Also there will be smut. Eventually.
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: Are we leaning into some serious monsterfucker vibes with this one? Oh absolutely hell yeah we are. Am I ridiculously scared to even post this? *Yes.* You literally can't overestimate how much I'm trembling right now.
I took some (a lot of) creative liberties with the vampire lore for this one, so if you're very heavily into traditional vampire lore, this may not be for you. It's my first time delving into anything fantasy-esque like this, so bear with me! (Friendly tips are always welcome.) Also, this is probably going to be weird. So there's that. We're doing kinky vampires, ok? Like. I can't make this more normal than what it sounds like.
@geralts-yenn As promised 🥰
@deandoesthingstome @summersong69 you both asked for a general tag... This is what that gets you. 🙈🙈🙈
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“V-vampire? What do you mean you're a… You can't be.” It felt like the ground disappeared beneath your feet, and you were freefalling into darkness. You’d been dating Mikey for months, and now he… It couldn’t be true. It had to not be true.
“I am.” Mike looked at you, an apology clearly displayed on his face and in his voice. As if that was going to be enough. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I thought you knew…”
“And exactly how the fuck was I supposed to know?”
Mike shrugged. “The mandatory health classes in high school shou…”
“I was homeschooled.” Your anger dissipated somewhat. Apparently, at least part of this was your parents’ fault for misinforming you about vampires in general.
“Oh shit… I had no idea, sorry. Eh… What were you told about us?”
“That you're monsters…” That was the gist of it. You’d never believed much of it, and it had made you curious rather than scared. Less scared of vampires, at least. Your father, now that was a whole other story. “I-I'm so dead. My father… If he finds out…”
“He'd be pretty pissed if he found out you're living with a bunch of vampires?” Mikey’s casual tone was way out of place, but you knew he couldn’t help it. He was Mike, after all. But was he really? Was he still the Mikey you knew? The Mike you… loved?
“Of course it's all three of you. Fuck! Yes, he'd be pretty mad, to say the least. And he'll for sure disown me if he knew I let myself be defiled by one. God! I can't believe this. I slept with you. I… Vampire… Fuck.”
“Defiled? Jesus, please don’t say things like that. You’re making me feel like a monster.” He paused for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. “Are you scared of me?”
“No…” It wasn’t a lie, per se. You weren’t scared of the Mike you knew; you just weren’t entirely convinced that your Mike hadn’t changed.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.” Apart from the fact you had nowhere to go, you didn’t see much reason to leave. If he was telling the truth when he said he genuinely believed you’d known all this time, then you had no reason to fear them, or to leave. If they wanted you gone, you’d be gone, one way or another.
“Do you hate me?” He looked as if he knew it was a ridiculous question, but he was still asking. You couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Mikey, stop, no. I… I'm not like my family, but this is hard. Even if I didn't believe everything they told me growing up, there's still a lot in between not believing vampires are the devil and fucking one.”
“Whoa, thanks. We're just screwing, then?”
“Mike, that's not what I meant. I just… That's what makes me so pissed you never told me! I really liked you. I still do.” You were fifty shades of confused right now, trying to make sense of the fact that your boyfriend hadn’t quite lied about yet still omitted the fact that he was a vampire.
“I'm really, really sorry! I genuinely thought you knew!”
“How was I supposed to know? You're out in the sun! I've seen you eat… Food. I've seen you eat garlic. You show up in pictures and in mirrors.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized it was entirely possible that the information you’d gotten from your parents and their – generally lacking – education may not have been entirely correct.
“Ah. I see some inaccuracies are still alive and well in the homeschooling department.”  Somehow, saying something like that was something Mike could get away with without sounding like a massive dick. There was something in his tone that made it abundantly clear to you that you weren’t at fault for this whole… Misunderstanding? Was that the right way to describe it, or was it a gigantic understatement?
“Well enlighten me.” Mike quickly offered to make you a cup of tea while you had that conversation, which you gladly accepted. Mike put the kettle on and gestured at you to sit down on the couch.
“Get comfortable, we're in for a long talk.” You grabbed a blanket and waited for Mike to join you on the couch. He handed you your tea and you smiled a little nervously. “Fuck, Sweetcheeks, can I hug you?” Mike seemed genuinely upset at everything that was happening right now, which didn’t make you happy – you hated seeing him like this – but it definitely did make you feel more comfortable knowing that he had really never meant for this to happen.
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“Where do we start.” You still couldn’t believe you were having this conversation. It seemed like a weird thing to find out about so late. Then again, you’d gone years without knowing your childhood best friend was left-handed, and you hadn’t known your English Literature professor was gay until a friend had pointed that out to you somewhere in the past week. You just weren’t very observant. Apparently.
“I'd like to apologize again, that's for sure. And after that… Do you have any questions?” He then proceeded to answer every question you had as they bubbled up in your brain in seemingly random order.
“Is this why you're so cold sometimes?” You felt silly asking these questions. It all suddenly really felt like you should have learned these things by now. Like making toast or stacking a dishwasher or doing laundry. Alright, you still weren’t completely clear on the laundry part, but you knew more about that than vampires. As it turns out, it was highly unusual for humans to even notice the difference in temperature, but you were on the right track with your question.
“It is. I'm colder when I'm hungry. And warmer after eating human food.” Apparently, it took up more energy to digest human food.
“Compared to eating people?”
“Whoa, Sweetcheeks, we don't 'eat people', okay? We drink blood, that's different!” He actually looked insulted when you said that, and maybe he was right to feel that way…
“You suck it out of people,” you said in a small voice. The comparison seemed logical…
“Shit, Sweetcheeks, you've sucked things out of me, do you 'eat vampires'?” Of course. That was such a Mikey thing to say…
“Why do I always have to be around when he says something stupid like that?” You immediately froze when you heard the dark, smooth baritone of Walter’s voice.
“Terrible timing? You somehow managed. He chuckled softly – the sound always gave you chills, but in a good way. Maybe a bit too good.
“Or so it would seem. As always, I apologize for his existence!”
“It's alright, I forgive him.”
“What were you even talking about? Wait, do I want to know?” Marshall decided to join the both of you in the living room. Mike didn’t protest, and you weren’t opposed to a second teacher to help explain all of these things. You just hoped that August wouldn’t show up; he wasn’t very good at hiding disdain, and he’d certainly have plenty of it stowed away for moments exactly like this one.
“She had no idea we are vampires.”
“You've been living with us for months? Did they teach you nothing in hi-“
“Homeschooled,” Mike clarified quickly. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks; you definitely hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Like a clueless child in dire need of adults to tell her how the world worked. It reminded you a little bit too much of the way your parents had always treated you.
“Ah. My bad. And you're trying to rectify the situation using phrases like that?” Luckily, it was Mike that was being judged by Marshall, and you sighed in relief.
“She accused me of eating people,” Mike said, looking like a sad puppy; pouty and adorable.
“Alright, that's a gratuitous overstatement.”
“How do you even eat? Drink? Feed? ... You don't kill people, do you?”
“Love, this isn't the dark ages, there's safe ways for us to feed – ‘feed’ would be the most commonly used term.” Marshall chuckled. “And most importantly; the 'people we eat' are willing to let us feed.”
“Why would they do that voluntarily?” It seemed kind of weird to you to just, what? Walk up to vampires and go ‘here, suck my blood?’ Another Marshall-chuckle tore you away from your thoughts.
“Well, they’re not volunteers, per se. It pays pretty well.”
“It's a job?” That made more sense, but something about that felt… obscene and perverted? Though you did recognize that that was probably your upbringing talking.
“Yes, it is. It’s quite popular among students; you're just sitting around, with plenty of time to study.” Marshall’s explanation didn’t come across as judgy or mocking, he just explained. Nothing more, nothing less. “Some are purely in it for the money, and are really freaked out about the bites. It always sucks -pun not intended – when you get one of those.” That had you curious, and you asked about the ‘why’ behind that.
“Fear makes blood taste weird,” Marshall said. Apparently, it had something to do with the hormones humans released when scared.
“I bet August likes it,” Mikey said with a massive grin on his face.
“A little adrenaline from excitement and anticipation, sure,” Of course August came home right that second. You remembered what your parents had briefly warned you about; vampires had keen senses. You wondered if Mike had heard August coming. “But genuine fear? Might as well feed during finals week.” Another tidbit of information that would have been infinitely more informative if you knew the first thing about vampires and their feeding practices, but you didn’t. Therefore, you had to ask again – and this time, you had to ask August.  
“What?”
“Lots of stress doesn't make it taste any better, either. Why are we teaching Vampire Health 1 to an undergrad?” There it was: some good old, signature August derision to feast on.
“Homeschooled,” the three of you said in unison.
“My apologies,” August said. He seemed sincere, and his attitude disappeared immediately.
“The feeding... I take it it's not a fun little restaurant experience?” You asked your question carefully, afraid to have been misinterpreting everything the whole way through, but you were met with three looks that proved you right beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“It definitely isn't. It's a long wait, and you basically have no idea of what you're going to get, no choice at all, and you're out of whack for anywhere from three days to a week.” Mike said, shuddering at the thought.
“Why would you feel out of it?” That didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t eating supposed to make you feel better, not worse?
“They dose you with garlic,” Mike answered as if that explained everything. You gave the boys a quizzical look.
“Oh good grief, this is why Sherlock spends most of his time at the clinic dealing with transitioning homeschooled kids.” August growled. His exasperation wasn’t aimed at you, per se, you noticed. The guys seemed to be very sympathetic towards your status as a nitwit homeschooled kid.
“I'm completely lost, guys.”
“You're completely lucky you're not one of us, princess.” August said. His voice was more mellow than it had been a few moments ago, as if he was trying to make it clear to you that he wasn’t frustrated with you. That being said, he didn’t quite succeed; he still sounded pretty pissed, and you weren’t convinced it wasn’t aimed at you. “Not that being a vampire is so bad, but it shouldn't be an accident.”
“What were you told about becoming a vampire?” Marshall shot August a look that clearly meant he needed to calm the fuck down.
“You get bit, you become a vampire.” You shrugged. That was basically all your parents had told you about the process. “Oh and that it's the most painful thing ever. And there was something about the fires of hell. Actually, the fires of hell got mentioned quite a lot.” The guys laughed at that, which made you very happy. It had been a joke, after all – well, the ‘funny because it’s true’ kind – and it did break the tension a little. It also didn’t seem to be something they hadn’t heard before.
“Alright, they weren't wrong about the biting part, per se. It's not a given, but there's a pretty decent success rate.” Marshall explained.
“'s where the garlic comes in. You were probably told that vampires and garlic don't mix?” You nodded in reply to Mike's question. “Alright. Not necessarily a lie. Garlic does make us easier to kill, which is what the hell-yellers choose to interpret as 'vampire eat garlic, vampire die'.”
“Which can't be true, because you're all still here.”
“Exactly. What it does do,” August continued, ”is weaken us. We're slower, less strong, and it fogs our brain a little. What it also does, is weaken the toxin our teeth secrete when they come into contact with human blood.”
“Not animal blood?”
“Imagine a vampire tiger or bear, princess, and then consider whether or not that's a sound idea from an evolutionary point of view.” August took one look at your face and laughed. It was something you didn’t hear often, and even if you did it was usually mixed into the laughter of the others. It was nice, though. “Exactly.”
“So garlic is what? Vampire contraceptive?”
“Pretty much,” Mike said, “and since the places where we feed can't trust everyone to take their daily dose, they OD you on the stuff to the point where you can't see straight. There's a reason most of us only go once a month or so.”
“This is a lot...”
“Yeah, this was the speed run of maybe just about half of a ten-week high school course,” Marshall said, “and most of those kids have been given information from a very young age. Correct information.”
“What about the sun? And reflections? Do you need to be invited into houses?” Whenever you thought you were out of things to ask about, something else came to mind.
“Sunscreen, myth and yes,” August answered your questions effectively, which was nice, given the fact that you were really approaching the limits of how much information you could handle in a single day.
“Su- no.” That was an explanation that was so devilishly simple that it couldn’t be true. At the very least it was incredibly anticlimactic.  
“He’s not lying to you, love,” Marshall said, “we've been around for ages, give me one good reason why your scientists have come up with something that prevents you from burning in the sun, but ours wouldn't have?”
“Vampire scientists?”
“You can meet one, if Sherlock ever makes it back.”
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poledancingdinos · 1 year
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Hidden Desires
Pairing: August Walker (1st person POV) X OFC
Word Count: 3679 words
Warnings: Stripper OFC, Porn with feelings, D/S dynamics, Knife kink (no actual cutting or injury), Primal kink, Chasing, Choking, Fingering, Vaginal sex, Creampie, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Taglist : @amberangel112  @utterlyhopeful-fics  @marantha ​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka  @luclittlepond  @elizabetharegina  @enchantedbytomandhenry  @narnianaos  @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25
A/N: As usual, something that started as a quick fic turned into the length of all three previous parts combined. Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 here.
Story Masterlist
Masterlist
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I noticed her eyes lingering the first time I packed for a week-long op in Warsaw. I went through all my normal checks, cleaning my firearms, loading bullets into a few spare magazines and pulling the knife out of its sheath to make sure the blade was well sharpened. That’s when her eyes flickered away from her book.
I didn’t know what exactly had caught her attention but I didn’t have time to ask more questions. I needed to get on the road or I was going to miss my flight. She’d only been living with me for two weeks at that point and had never seen me prepare for or unpack after a mission. If she was afraid of having weapons in the penthouse, we were going to have a big problem.
When I got back, I made a show of lining up my weapons on the table before sitting down to clean them. She sat with me at first, telling me about her week at the club and how she was getting settled into her new home. When I reached for my tactical trench knife, her eyes once again sought out the blade as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Shortly after, she excused herself and spent the next six hours reading in the living room.
My pet and I, we work because she always takes everything I have to give. She indulges my every whim then begs for more. What I realized then was that maybe she’d been keeping her own deepest desires quiet and I knew exactly how to find out what they were.
I bought her a Kindle for her birthday last year. I’m not sure if she knows this but since I pay for her account, I have a history of every book she’s bought or borrowed available in an instant.
It’s not surprising that a woman who enjoys submission and works as a stripper has a taste for kinky books. Frankly, the romantic aspect bothers me more than the abundance of raunchy sex. It’s the one thing I can never give her and part of me hates that at least a small part of her craves it.
Maybe that’s why I downloaded all the books she read while I was away as well as the one she binged immediately after my return. Maybe I felt the need to give her her fantasy to make up for the fact that there is one part of me that I will never be able to give her.
It’s entirely possible that the kinks she enjoys on paper have no appeal when it comes to real life and that that is the reason why she never mentioned them to me. It’s also possible that for some reason, she doesn't want to tell me about them. I try not to think about how much that bothers me.
This time, when I get back into town after my mission, I don’t warn her beforehand. I put away all of my gear as usual, shower, trim my beard and redress with my knife strapped to my hip.
I’ve been tracking her phone all evening waiting for her to turn onto our street. As soon as she does, I dial her number and wait for the line to connect.
She picks up after a few rings, “Hey, I just pulled into the garage so I might have to call you back after I get off the elevator.”
“That won’t be necessary, this will be quick. If it's too much, if I push too far, say ‘red’. Remember this, Kitten, when you say ‘red’, everything stops.”
“I don’t understand…”
She knows what the words mean, she just doesn't know why she is being reminded of them now. At the very beginning of our relationship, we established the basic safewords as a general precaution. Though I enjoy pushing limits and toeing the line, I pride myself on being able to read her and stop without her having to tell me. I've never misjudged a situation so much that she needed to use it. 
“I’ll see you soon, Pet,” is all I say before hanging up the phone.
I wait for her out of sight of the front door. It takes about sixty seconds before I hear her key turning in the lock. I wait until she pushes the door closed and I hear the deadbolt flip to make my move. There isn't a single light on and she's at a momentary disadvantage while her eyes adjust. It gives me just enough time to silently move in behind her.
I wrap an arm around her front, pinning her back to my chest. My other hand covers her mouth, muffling her surprised gasp, but other than that she doesn’t make a sound. She struggles a bit but it’s more a question of testing my hold than trying to get free.
“Listen to me very carefully. You have indulged my desires time and time again but it has come to my attention that I have failed to give you the same.”
Her head jerks but I don’t let her move. I’m not sure if she’s shocked by what I just admitted or if she’s afraid of what I might know.
The top of her head only reaches about an inch above my shoulder. She’s strong for her size but absolutely no match for me.
“You may not have trusted me enough to tell me what you wanted, but I hope you will trust me to give it to you now.”
I lift my hand from her mouth, finding hers and guiding it to feel the sheath on my belt. Her breath hitches as she traces the shape with her fingertips, registering the meaning of my words.
“I’m going to count to three. On three, I want you to fight me as hard as you can. The knife doesn’t come out until you submit. I won’t risk hurting you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
At any point until now, she could have told me to go to hell. I’ve felt no tension in her body, only a few shivers of excitement, but the fact that I missed this desire in her for so long has me second guessing myself and I feel the need to be sure.
“Do you have a problem with anything I have said?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good. One.”
She stands taller, getting ready for what’s to come.
“Two.”
I let go of her, moving back two steps. There is a prolonged pause as she turns around and locks eyes with me for the first time since she returned. Her chest is heaving and she licks her lips as she looks me up and down.
“Three.”
She darts towards the living room as fast and as gracefully as a feline, showing me once again that her nickname is well earned. I cut her off as she rounds the couch and the little minx smirks as she leaps over the back of it like it’s nothing.
We both sprint down the hallway and I catch hold of her arm just as she ducks into the bedroom. That’s when the mood shifts from a chase to a fight. She pushes me and slams her fists on my chest but I pin her arms behind her back and lift her over my shoulder.
She fights harder than I expected and almost wiggles right out of my arms but I manage to toss her on the bed and slip a hand into her pants. She continues to struggle, bucking and kicking but she falters when my fingers breach her wet folds.
I keep her pinned under my weight as I work her stupidly tight jeans down her legs. I’m tempted to cut them off but her ass looks phenomenal in them and it would be a terrible waste.
While one hand returns to her weeping cunt, the other grabs hold of her hair, baring her neck to me. As soon as my lips land on the sensitive skin, she stops fighting and focuses on just feeling. I make my way south, nipping at the exposed swell of her breasts. Where I had qualms about slashing her pants, I have none about her top.
“Hold still.”
I pull my knife from its sheath, letting it catch the light coming in through the window before I move it to the hem of her shirt and begin to cut. Once the fabric is in shreds, I move on to her bra allowing the blade to come in contact with her skin for the first time. Her panties survive — for now — but only because I have other plans for her.
“Get on your knees and put your hands on the headboard.”
I move off the bed, freeing her, then I set the knife on the dresser as I strip off my suit. I didn’t tell her to keep her eyes forward but she doesn’t dare look back even when the bed shifts under my weight. 
She doesn’t so much as flinch when the cool metal of the blade comes in contact with the burning skin of her thigh. In fact, she sighs like she’s been waiting a lifetime for this moment and is finally getting relief.
She’s been mine for a little over a year now. She always submits for me — though, admittedly, I sometimes I have to break the brat in her first — but seeing her now, calling it beautiful doesn’t fucking begin to describe how she looks.
She is completely lost to her arousal, her eyes closed and mouth agape where soft gasps are escaping but that’s not the part that has me going crazy. The level of trust she is displaying for me has a horrifying four-letter word running through my mind.
I can’t cross that line, I just can’t. But damn if she isn’t making me question everything I stand for at the moment.
She is perfectly still while I run the tip of the blade over her soft skin. I slip it under the band of her underwear, tearing them first on one side then on the other. Her hands tighten around the edge of the headboard as she fights her body’s involuntary responses to her arousal. Goosebumps form under my hand and when I scratch the blade sideways on her nipple, her entire body shivers.
I move closer, pulling gently with the hand splayed over her stomach until she leans her weight against me.
“Fucking beautiful,” I whisper against her neck, earning a small whine. “I bet you were relieved when I cut those panties away. That sweet pussy is so wet, they must have been uncomfortably drenched.” I sink two fingers deep within her tight walls, a satisfied rumble forming in my chest when she clenches around them. “So good, Kitten, you’re dripping for me.”
I watch over her shoulder as I continue to tease her hard, pebbled nipples with my blade. I maintain perfect control, scratching but never nicking her smooth skin. No longer needing to hold herself up alone, her body goes lax against me. Curious to see just how far I can go, I cup her chin, smearing some of her wetness over her lips which her tongue eagerly darts out to taste, then move the blade to her throat.
I’m on high alert, ready to react if she unintentionally moves into the sharp edge but still, she doesn’t budge. There is no tension, no signs of fear, only unconditional trust.
I’ve been ignoring my pulsing dick since she got home, and I had originally intended to get her off a few times before I fucked her, but it seems that my little kitten is not the only one who enjoys playing with knives. The building anticipation is driving me insane and I am now desperate to feel her around me.
The knife makes a loud thud as I let it fall to the floor, grasping her hip instead and grinding my hardness against her luscious ass. The hand on her chin slides to her throat, exercising controlled pressure.
“Are you feeling empty, Kitten? Is that tight little cunt begging to be used like my personal fuck toy?”
Her throat bobs under my palm. “Yes, Sir.”
“Because it is, isn’t it? Every inch of you is mine.” Body and soul, I add in my head.
“Yes, Sir.”
I guide her to lean forward, lining myself up and wasting no time before thrusting home. My forehead drops to her shoulder and we both groan. She is hugging my dick like a vice and her walls pulse around me but I push down my need to come to snap my hips with full-force.
“Oh fuck!”
I can’t make sense of what I’m feeling, neither physically nor emotionally. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I need something to ground me, something to prove to me that this is real so I wrap my arms around her front and hold her close as I pound into her relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, joined by my kitten’s cries of pleasure.
She lets go of the headboard, one hand snaking around the back of my neck and the other interlacing our fingers over her stomach. My thrusts aren’t as deep from this position, but the erotic sounds spilling from her lips let me know I’m hitting right where she needs me, over and over and it spurs me on.
“Don’t you dare come without my permission.”
I’m about two seconds away from exploding myself, but I just need this to last a little longer.
“I c— I can’t.”
“Yes you can, you’re my perfect little kitten and you can do anything I ask, you just choose not to. Don’t start being a brat now.” I punctuate my words by giving her pussy a sharp slap and immediately regret it when her walls flutter around me, nearly pulling me over the edge.
Just a little longer. My hands move over her body, desperate to memorize how every inch of her feels in my arms.
“Three,” I say when the pleasure fluttering in my stomach and rushing up my spine grows past the point of no return.
“Two.” My fingers find her clit and I pinch hard.
“One.”
Her face turns back and she locks her lips with mine. Her thighs quiver under my touch as our rapture takes over and I have to plant a hand on the wall to keep me from collapsing forward onto her.
My nape burns where her fingernails bite into my skin, holding me in place against her lips. The kiss is as feverish as the rest of our joining and I refuse to be the first to break it even if my body is threatening to give out and send us both crashing to the mattress.
It seems she has the same idea because she ushers me to sit with my back against the headboard and sits astride my hips. I don’t know how long we stay that way but when we eventually pull away, my lungs are burning from lack of breath.
“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”
Her question catches me so off-guard that I have no idea how to respond. Truth be told, now that she’s said it, I know what she means. There’s this sense of finality in the air.
She must take my silence as an admission because she hurries off me. “It’s okay, I understand,” she whispers as she covers herself in a robe and exits the room, leaving me stunned and speechless.
I don’t want her to go or for this to be the end, but I can’t listen to my emotions, I have to listen to reason. Logic tells me that I’m getting too attached and that I should end this before things go south. I’ve left a trail of bodies behind me as I advanced my career but there are still plenty more who are alive and kicking and hellbent on vengeance. Those kinds of people would have absolutely no issue with hurting one more innocent person if it meant gaining power over me.
Every agent out there thinks they are different, that they are better than those who came before them and will be able to protect their families. That kind of thinking only leads to a rude awakening.
I push myself off the mattress, finding a pair of sweatpants to put on before collecting my knife from the floor and slipping it back into the sheath.
From the moment we met, I’ve had this undeniable feeling of possession over her. I mark her every chance I get and we've been seen together in public before. She would already be at risk if someone wanted to get to me through her. To the outside eye, anyone would think she’s my girlfriend even if I’ve never dared use that term before.
I don't know how to love someone. I've never loved anyone and had them love me back. I've been alone since as long as I can remember, never getting attached, never being with the same person more than a few stray nights. Except for her.
I'm definitely not one for marriage, settling down or having children. Well, maybe the marriage idea isn't all bad. I'd like her to wear a mark of ownership for every other man to see but the whole perfect wedding day? Who would even attend?
A choked sob catches my attention and I suddenly feel like even more of an asshole. I exit the room, stopping in the kitchen to grab a bottle of the chocolate milk she loves so much before following the sound to the back room. I told her this was her space to do with as she pleased but she hasn't decided what to make of it yet. For now, it's storage for all the boxes she has yet to unpack and the few pieces of furniture she didn't want to part with.
She's curled up on her loveseat and seems to have found a throw blanket in one of the boxes to keep warm. Tears stain her cheeks and I immediately fall back into my dominant role, sitting beside her on the couch and pulling her over my lap. She protests weakly but her arms are trapped in her blanket and keep her from putting up a real fight.
“Drink,” I order, pulling the soft, velvety fabric back to reveal her arm.
“What's the point? You don't need to play the dom anymore, just leave me to deal with my stupid little emotions alone.”
Well, at least my little brat is still somewhere in there.
“I didn't say that.”
“You didn't need to.”
I sigh, setting the bottle on the floor and taking her hand in mine.
“Your question was unexpected, my hesitation has no meaning other than me giving it the consideration it deserved.”
“Well?” she asks, her tone practically daring me to answer.
I look down at her delicate hand in my much larger one. My thumb brushes nonsensical patterns over her knuckles and I linger over her ring finger.
“I can't give you normal. I can’t give you the safety of a house in the suburbs, two point five kids, a dog and a white picket fence.” I grind my teeth, considering how best to phrase what I want to say next. “If that is what you want, what would make you happy, then I will agree to let you go.”
She shifts on my lap, looking down when she feels the bulge in my pocket.
“How did you know I liked your knife?”
She ignores my question, which is fair since I ignored hers.
“I looked at your kindle.”
Her face flushes red and she shakes her blond curls out to hide her face. It’s strange to see her anything but her confident, assertive self.
“Which one did you—”
“Ones. Everything you read the last time I was out of town. And that saucy little number you read after I got back.”
“Then why would you think that what I want is to be normal? Weren’t all the guys in those books dangerous criminals who literally commit murder for the women they love?” She moves to straddle my lap cupping my face with both hands. “Would you do the same for me?”
This woman never ceases to amaze me. She’s phrased her question in a way that gives her the answers she wants without me having to say the words.
I stroke a hand along her cheek, tangling my fingers in her hair and tugging her forward into a kiss. “I would,” I say honestly, making a smile return to her face.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and reaches for the knife, turning it over in her hands. “I love you too,” she whispers, pushing the blanket and the robe off her shoulders and exposing herself to me. “And I want you to mark me.”
“I won’t scar you,” I state, lowering the knife. “The healing is too unpredictable,” I add when she gives me a disappointed look. I should know, I’ve had enough wounds stitched shut in a perfectly straight line only for them to heal oddly because of how the skin twists and shifts in everyday life.
I lean forward, tracing her clavicle with open-mouthed kisses. “We’ll commission a design, something befitting of your beauty, and I will mark you myself once the time is right.”
I don’t have a single ounce of artistic ability in my body — I’m better at destroying beauty than I am at creating it. But it will be a cold day in hell when I let another man mark her on my behalf so I guess I will have to learn how to use a tattoo machine.
“I know who you are, August. I know the dangers.” She leans her forehead against mine. “You once told me that being with me wasn’t settling. Now it’s my turn to tell you the same.”
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littlefreya · 1 year
Text
@captainsy-cookiemonster, my dear! 💖😍 Once again, I would like to wish you a very happy birthday.
Nothing like a weekend celebration, aye? :) I hope you that are having a really good one today and that the rest of the week will be amazeballs!!!
So now, with no further ado...
Not from this Earth.
Mike x OFC named Lisa x.... 👀
No smut.
Not beta'd. :D All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
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"I love it when they turn on the heat in places like this," Mike proclaimed as he gazed around him.
Snow at this time of the year was anything but normal but thanks to the crowdedness and the heating system, it was so hot inside the club that some of the women were down to their bras.
Mike was on the hunt tonight. Standing near the DJ's stage with his older brother, he scanned his surrounding with boyish excitement, every time a woman made eye contact with him he immediately quirked an eyebrow and winked which resulted with 'the victim' rolling her eyes and turning away.
"Smooth, really smooth," Will snorted. "I don't know who you got your manners from, but it sure ain't from me, little brother."
"You know that attitude never gets you laid, right?" Mike retorted playfully.
It was Will's turn to roll his eyes now. While he was solely a couple of years older than Mike, Will was always considered 'the mature one'. Having their father leave as toddlers, the young man tried to compensate while Mike was what you can call a loss cannon. Though, Will always knew that Mike just needed to meet the right woman to set him on the right path.
Too bad, it didn't seem like she was anywhere in this sleazy club tonight.
"How about you make yourself useful? Got get us another round of beer." Will suggested and pulled out his credit card.
A slanted smirk peaked one of Mike's cheeks, creating a large dimple that even Will found irresistible. Immediately snatching the card, he nodded but not before fishing something from his leather jacket's pocket, "here, just in case you do find a girl in my absence."
Will blinked at his open palm and then sighed again.
A condom. He gave him a god-damn condom.
The path to the bar was packed with a dancing crowd. People dressed as demons and beasts ground into one another while the lights above them flickered in red and blue.
Mike stood listless, waiting to be noticed by the bartender, when something called for his attention.
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Out from a thick mist, amid the devils and monsters, appeared an angel. Not a literal one, at least, he didn't think she was, but she sure looked that way.
Dark long hair spilt down her shoulders, and her big almond-shaped forest-green eyes looked like they could devour a man in their dark wilderness. A fluffy white halo hung over her head, and from her back spread large white-feathered wings that framed her small figure like something out of a fairytale.
"I'm in love..." he murmured to himself and then swallowed the lump in his throat as a sudden dryness stuck him.
Just then, the little angel made eye contact. She smiled at him, noticing his obvious stare, her hand lifted up coyly to brush a strand of hair that fell to hide her face before she looked away.
Sure, Mike had seen his share of beautiful women, but there was something about her, almost as if she wasn't from this realm.
Completely forgetting why he even came to the bar, Mike slid from the counter and fixed his leather jacket, his heart pounding as he made his way toward her.
The scent of lilies filled the air, and he could have sworn it emanated from her... the closer he got, the stronger the scent became, and she only seemed more and more beautiful as he could catch a better glimpse of her features.
A few more steps and he could talk to her... his mind raced, trying to come up with what to say first. There was no way in hell he could say something corny, not to a girl like this, not with that sweet smile she gave him as she saw him drawing near.
She bit her lip, holding her fingers laced together and dropping her gaze to the floor for a shy second, but as she raised her eyes to peer at him again, her joy suddenly faded, and concern filled her eyes.
Mike halted, looking at her confused when a stern hand fell on his shoulders and squeezed hard enough to hurt.
"Hey, what's your story?!"
At first, he thought it was his brother, but as Mike turned to look at the man who interrupted him, a sudden sense of dread chilled his bones.
Pale blue eyes peered back at him in a glare that couldn't be confused with anything other than a threat. He was slightly taller than him, though had the confidence and looks that could make even the strongest man whimper and above his lips stood a thick moustache that made him look even more attractive and menacing than he was.
Mike wrangled his shoulder free from his grip and took a step back, staring at the bewhiskered man. He was wearing a suit... who the hell wears a suit to a shitty club like this?
"She's mine, kid." The man finally spoke, his smooth baritone leaving no place to doubt. His gruff chick twitched into what appeared like an unpleasant smirk before he wiped his hand clean on his sleeve and walked toward the Angel.
Mike followed them with his eyes, watching the large man as he offered her his below in an old-timey mannerism. The coyness and sweetness faded from her smile, now replaced by submission and what Mike could only interpret as servitude.
The bewhiskered gentleman pinched her chin gently and then began leading her away while Mike stood watching, his heart breaking with the distance growing between them.
But just before they vanished from his sight, she turned her head to look at him, and he could have sworn he heard her voice echoing in his mind.
"Lisa, my name is Lisa. Come rescue me when you wake up."
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ashbrat488 · 18 days
Text
Candy - Chapter 6
Word count: 1089
Cassidy confronts August over lunch...
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August glances up at Cassidy as she comes into view where he sits at the small table in the back of the restaurant. He smiles at her as she scowls, removing her yellow peacoat to display curve-hugging jeans and a light blue blouse as she took a seat beside him and lifted the menu in front of her.
Cassidy ignores August in his button-up, his tie loosened around his neck. She ignores how good he looks, as he brings his hand up to smooth his forefinger and thumb over his mustache. She smiles at the waitress as she greets the table. "I'll have the New York Strip."
"12 or 16 oz?" The waitress glances at August as he just sits quietly, waiting for Cassidy to finish.
"16. Medium. And a bottle of the Cabernet." She hands the menu to the waitress as August chuckles.
"Same for me is fine." He hands over his own menu, not taking his eyes off Cassidy as she finally glares back at him. "So? To what do I owe this pleasure?"
She takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm as they were in public. "What do you think you're doing?"
August chuckles, looking around the restaurant as the waitress comes up to them with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He rolls up his sleeves as Cassidy watches the veins on his forearms, getting momentarily distracted as the waitress poured them both some wine. He nodded at her, waiting for her to walk away before looking back at Cassidy. "I don't know what you mean. You invited me here, Ms. Turner. Called me in the middle of the day at work and insisted I buy you lunch."
She huffs, shaking her head before bringing the wine up to her lips. The wine is dry and bitter and she forces herself to swallow it as August smirks at her amused.
"You don't like it?"
She smiles as he takes his own drink, and she forces herself to take another. She made a show of ordering the most expensive bottle, and she was not going to let him win. "It's fine."
"So, doll..." he leans toward her at the table as she swallows hard, the endearment shooting straight through her as she recalled their last time together. "What are we doing here? I can get us a hotel room for the night..."
She scoffs, leaning toward him too. "No! Why did you pay for my school? And my student loans?"
"Did I?" He asks with a flirty smile, cocking his head to the side.
"Fuck you, Walker!" She spits as he grips her wrist, his smile falling as his brows furrowed and his eyes darkened.
"Watch your mouth, doll. You should be saying thank you, August. Don't give me attitude or I'm going to beat it out of you."
She could only nod as he released her, leaning back in his chair. She knew it was a threat and a promise and it was one she wanted him to follow through on. She took a large gulp of the wine, trying to stifle the sour face as she set the glass back on the table and August chuckled. "You know what I mean. Why?"
"Because I could." He responds nonchalantly with a small shrug as she just seethes, becoming angrier. "You could always work it off with me in a hotel room."
"No." She shakes her head with a groan as she feels August rest his hand on her thigh under the table.
"I miss you, doll." He rubs her thigh, moving his hand to her inner thigh, his pinky reaching her pussy as he hears a sharp intake of air. "Don't you miss our time together? Don't you miss the feel of my cock claiming your pussy?"
She feels her face heat, turning red as she leans away from him, shoving his hand away and avoiding the gaze of the waitress as she set their steaks in front of them. When they're alone, Cassidy picks at her plate. "I do what I do because I do it on my own terms. No one else's. You can't manipulate me into doing what you want, August."
"So think of it as a gift then. A bonus. Speaking of..." he brings his hand up, running his fingers gently along her collarbone and up her neck as she trembled slightly, "why aren't you wearing the necklace I bought you?"
"Because," she brings her hand up to her neck where his hand just was, "my boyfriend didn't like me wearing something from a client."
"He knows what you do?" August is surprised at this revelation as he cuts into his steak, taking a large bite.
"Yes. I don't lie about it. He just isn't allowed to know who my clients are. But I keep my relationships neat and clean so that I don't even know who they really are. And you had to go and fuck that up, didn't you?"
August laughs, much to her chagrin, obviously annoyed. "Look, I was surprised as you were. But you're here now and I don't want to sever our relationship."
"Well I do..." she spits, knowing he was about as convinced as she felt, which was not at all.
He nods, letting it go to change the subject. "So, major in economics and minor in art? Why art?"
"Because I like art and you know nothing about me, August." She flags down the waitress, handing over the plate she barely touched. "Can you box this for me, please? Also a slice of your white chocolate cheesecake."
The waitress glances at August as if asking for permission as he only nods, chuckling. He looks back at Cassidy with a grin. "I might not know much about you yet, but I will." He leans toward her, hovering his face inches from hers to really drive the point home. "And I know you miss me. I know you miss our time together. I will have you again."
She shakes her head, not moving from her spot. "Keep dreaming, August Walker." She stands up and pulls on her coat as August watches her accept the bag of food from the waitress.
He sighs, pulling his phone out, and messaging The Contractor.
August: She's on her way back home.
He pulls out his wallet and sets some cash on the table before grabbing his jacket and leaving the restaurant. The lunch didn't exactly go as well as he had hoped. But he knew he was leaving with the knowledge that she still wanted him too. And that was enough for him to work with... for now.
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Chapter 7 Candy
Taglist If you want to be added or removed from my list, let me know 🫶🏻
@identity22122212 , @alicedopey , @propelkingkitten , @critfailroll, @mrsevans90 , @carrie80readss, @thearcana-moonlight, @devotedlythoughtfulanchor , @alwayzmsbehavn
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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months
Text
Daddy Knows Best, Part I
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Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part I
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader
Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout
Word Count: 2.4K
Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?
Chapter Summary: You get acquainted with your body with the help of August.
Warnings: age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), pet names (Princess, Little One, Babydoll), Daddy kink, innocence lost, corruption kink, praise kink, dub-con, dumbification, dacryphilia, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (vaginal), dead dove: do not eat
A/N: This is different from my usual fics. I do believe that this would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still chose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is a completely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 
Dividers by: @saradika
Support/Reblog banner by me
Spotify Playlist is here. 
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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To say you grew up unconventionally would be an accurate description. Your dad was in the CIA, although you had no clue about this. Your mom was a government attache, she mostly acted as a liaison between the CIA and other branches of the government. 
That was how they met. On a mission, the whole one-bed trope. It would be cute if the future weren’t so tragic for them. 
You were homeschooled from the time you were 5 years old. Your Nanny only took you out to meet children your age on the weekends. And that ended when you started puberty. Your parents thought it would be too compromising to have you out with boys your age.
When you were 16 and a half, your Dad was sent on a mission in Prague with a recruit, August Walker. Your Dad was hesitant to try and get close as he had a wife and daughter at home that he wanted to keep safe. And getting close meant sharing personal details, and that always spelled trouble.
And wouldn’t you know? Soon enough, lines were drawn and so was a gun. Drawn on your father. By Agent Walker. It seemed your father had intercepted what he thought was intel on his partner, but it ended up being proof that Walker was a sleeper agent.
Your Dad, of course, promised he wouldn’t say a word. That no one would ever hear of this. But in Walker’s world? Someone’s word was only as good as the collateral they had against you. And your Dad had some good collateral waiting for him at home. A doting wife whom he would do anything for.
And you. Daddy’s little girl.
He was instructed to leave his wife and daughter and never look back. They belonged to August now. And he would be in charge of their safety. And if your Dad ever got out of line, then someone was going to pay.
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You had just turned 18 when you met Mommy’s new boyfriend, August. She had been divorced from your Dad for less than a year and is already bringing her new boyfriend around. You weren’t a fan of his at first but he won you over with his charisma and his pretty smile.
Mommy had told you that Dad had to go away for a while and that August was going to move in and help out around the house. You missed your Dad, but it was nice to have August around too. He would sneak little treats to you and he called you Princess. And best of all, he made Mommy happy. 
One day, you noticed Nanny didn’t come around anymore. When you asked about her, Mommy said you were too old for a Nanny. And since you were past high school, you wouldn’t need your tutor anymore either. At first, you felt lonely without the company of Nanny or your tutor. But after a while, you liked the freedom of trying to fill your free time with activities.
When Mommy went to work, you stayed home and August kept an eye out for you. You spent most days in the summer laying around the pool and you couldn’t help feeling as if someone was watching you. But every time you looked at the windows on the back of the house, you could never see anyone. And it was only August home with you, why would he want to watch?
One afternoon, you forgot your towel when you came into the kitchen to get something to drink. Your wet feet left behind little puddles on the tile floor and almost caused you to slip as you were heading back out onto the patio. If it weren’t for two strong arms around your waist, you would have gone down easily.
“Princess, how many times have I told you to wipe off with a towel before you come back in the house? I don’t want you to hurt yourself, Little One,” His warm and calloused hands slide down your waist to your hips, steadying you to walk. He shakes his head at you and smiles, reaching a wet finger to boop your nose, “Go have fun, Princess. I’ll clean this up. And don’t stay in the water too long or you’ll get all pruney.” He pats your butt and you go back outside and lay on your lounger with your bottle of apple juice.
You woke up on your lounger a couple of hours later and your skin burned, the sun was still high in the sky and you fell asleep in it. You manage to walk into the house and make it to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen before you’re wincing and calling for August. You can’t reach the aloe and you’ll need help applying it.
“Oh, look at you. Stayed in the sun all day and now you’ve gotten burned. I assume you didn’t put on any sunscreen either? Princess, just because you have this pretty olive skin, it doesn’t mean you can’t burn,” He took pity on you, your hunched form indicating you felt stupid for falling asleep in the sun, “Let’s get the aloe on you and get you upstairs and in bed, Princess.”
August took great care in spreading the cool gel over your skin. You laid on your back in the sun so your front took the worst of the heat. As the gel cooled you, goosebumps formed on your skin. Your nipples grew hard under your bikini top and you got embarrassed when you realized August noticed. 
You tried to hide your face and he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you to look up at him. With a sweet smile, he caressed your chin with his thumb.
“Princess, that is a completely normal response. It just means you like the feel of my hands on your skin. And that is never a bad thing, ok? After all, I am Daddy. And Daddy would never hurt you, would he?”
You hesitate when he calls himself Daddy. You don’t even call your father Daddy. But August cared about you. He wouldn’t hurt you. 
“D-Daddy would never hurt me.” You said, not knowing the gravity of the step you just took.
“That’s my good girl. Come on, let’s get you upstairs and into bed.” Grabbing the aloe, August led you up the stairs and to your bedroom.
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“Alright. You sit down and Daddy will be right back, okay?” August left the room but was soon back holding one of his t-shirts and boxer briefs, “I got these for you to change into. Let’s get you out of this tight bathing suit. That can’t be comfy on your skin, Babydoll.”
He had you turn around in front of him while he untied your bikini top. It fell to the ground, the cool air of the room hit your nipples and you felt them tighten and harden. When he untied your bikini bottoms, his hand lingered on your hip and he turned you around to face him. Your left arm went to cover your breasts while your right hand cupped your netherlips. 
He bent over to pick up the discarded clothing and threw it into your hamper. “Now, look at my beautiful Little One. You know, you don’t need to cover up in front of Daddy,” He removes both of your arms and you swear you hear his breath hitch in his throat, “Daddy needs to see if the sun hurt you anywhere else.”
His hands glided over your breasts with the backs of his knuckles, slowly turning his hands so his palms make contact with your nipples. At your strangled moan, he pinches both nipples and you yelp. 
“Oh, Babydoll, did that hurt? I am so sorry. Want Daddy to kiss it better?” He was already leaning in when you nodded. 
His tongue swirled around one nipple while his thumb played with the other. When he switched his attention to the other, he moved a hand to the tuft of hair that covered your mound. Twirling a hand through your bush, he let a finger dip further and further until your thighs squeezed shut over him. 
“Princess, open your legs right now.” He kneeled in front of you with his hand caged between your thighs.
“But Aug–”
“I’m Daddy, Little One. Did my silly little girl forget so easily? Maybe she needs some reminding of who’s in charge,” He stood, forcibly removed his hand, and grabbed you by the waist to put you over his lap as he sat on your bed, “Stop wiggling and we can get this over and done with. I think you’ve earned three swats for your bad behavior. And after each one, I want you to count it and say my name. Am I making myself clear, Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy.” You sniffled, upset that you didn’t just let his hand explore.
The first spank is barely anything.
“One, Daddy.”
The second spank made your toes curl, but you barely moved in his lap.
“Two, Daddy.”
On the third spank, you heard the wind move before his hand connected with your plump behind. You jolted forward and felt as if white-hot fire exploded across your bum. You almost forgot your words, but the need to please Daddy was high.
“Three, Daddy!”
Only after you finished speaking did the urge to cry reveal itself. You tried to stifle it but when you sniffed and cleared your throat, you gave in. You began to sob and strong hands lifted you to lay across Daddy’s lap. He cradled your body with one arm while the other wiped away your tears. As he rocked back and forth, he spoke up.
“Oh Babydoll, Daddy doesn’t want to hurt you. Daddy wants the best for his Princess. She just has to listen to and obey Daddy when he tells her what to do,” He turned your face to look at him and he smiled down at you, “Daddy doesn’t want to make you cry but you are so beautiful when you do,” He wiped a tear with his thumb and then put it in his mouth, “Do you forgive me, Babydoll?”
“Yes, Daddy, I forgive you. I just never had anybody touch my…um, my–” You didn’t even know what to call it, but Daddy knew what you meant.
“No one ever touched your princess parts before?”
You shook your head and attempted to hide your face in his neck but a strong hand cupped your chin and tilted it upward.
“That’s because it is a very special place. Only you and Daddy can touch your princess parts, ok?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“I think Princess has earned special kisses for being such a good girl during her punishment,” He picked you up as he stood and placed you on your bed with your head on the pillow. He climbed onto the bed and settled himself between your legs, “Daddy is gonna take care of you, Babydoll.”
He opened your legs and placed a kiss on the fuzz on your mound. You felt his hands open you before Daddy placed another kiss. It felt so sensitive but so good and you wriggled under his touch. He smiled up at you and stuck his tongue out before he licked that sensitive spot. He held your legs open when they threatened to shut tight over his face.
“Does my sweet little girl like it when Daddy licks her clitty? It feels really good, doesn’t it, Babydoll?”
“Yes, Daddy. I like it when you lick my…clitty. Um, can you do it again? Please?”
“Look at you, begging Daddy like a good girl. Yes, baby, I’ll take such good care of you.” He delved back in between your legs, he swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud before he started to flick his tongue up and down. 
Your breathing picked up, you felt so good and that’s when he changed his tactics. He placed little kitten licks on your nub and you moaned out his name.
“Daddy…”
He kissed your inner thigh before he spoke, “That’s it, Babydoll. I bet you feel like you’re going to explode. That’s exactly what Daddy wants.” He dove back in, and this time he sucked on your bud. Your breathing picked up again and you felt his finger in the slick wetness of your princess parts. 
“Daddy, I’m–” Your words were cut off as you let out a string of moans. Daddy’s finger was inside you and you could feel yourself explode around it before it moved back and forth inside you. For a moment, it felt like it would never stop.
But soon, Daddy’s finger slipped out of you, and when Daddy lifted his hand, you could see it was shiny with wetness. He reached up and spread a bit of it on your bottom lip. Your tongue slipped out to taste the liquid and you were surprised when it wasn’t terrible. Daddy slipped his finger between his lips and savored the taste of you as he closed his eyes.
“My Babydoll is so delicious. How are you feeling, baby?”
“I feel tired, Daddy.” You yawned as a testament to your exhaustion.
“You’ve earned a nap, Princess. You did so well.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Will you take a nap with me?”
“Of course I will, Babydoll. How does your sunburn feel?” He sat up and you followed suit.
“It feels better, Daddy. But can I have some more aloe?”
He nodded and grabbed the aloe from your bedside table. It felt heavenly to feel the cool gel on your skin. It felt even better when Daddy put a bit of gel on your sensitive bum. He helped you get dressed in his old t-shirt and boxer briefs.
You had laid down on your side and Daddy got in behind you, his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You hadn’t noticed how good he smelled until now. You tried to calm yourself but you were excited to be held so close. You wiggled to get comfortable and you felt something pressing against your lower back. When you squirmed against it, Daddy put his hand on your hip to still you.
“Stay still and take your nap, Princess. Daddy will have a special treat for you when you wake up, ok? But you have to be a good girl and sleep for now.”
“Yes, Daddy.” You calmed your mind before you pulled Daddy’s arm back around you.
You felt safe and cared for in his arms. You wanted to please him. And you liked the way he touched you. You felt his breathing even out behind you. You closed your eyes and snuggled into Daddy as you fell asleep.
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A/N: Um, well, who wants more? 👉🏾👈🏾 Cuz I do.
Part II
**Tag List**
@raccoon-eyed-rebel @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁]
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milknhonies · 3 months
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The Negatives of Shooting People
Chapter 4 || MasterList || Chapter 6
Chapter Summary: August decides to test you with a taste of bondage which leads to a violent fit and a deadly confession...
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Non-Con, Description of Suicide & Self Harm, Trauma Dumping, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Oral Sex M!receiving, Fingering F! receiving, Child abuse, physical abuse, manipulation, subspace.
Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader
Word Count: 8.3k
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Author Notes:
★This chapter is based off of the real life events of my father's issues with women and his eventual death. He did toxic things but at the end of the day I still love him dearly and would sacrifice so much to have him back. He was my first best friend in this world. Please be kind. He is the reason I managed to write this story in the first place as a form of narration therapy
★Okay so I might be publishing this chapter earlier than I usually would because I'm doing a lot of packing and searching for a sharehouse or live in because I cannot stand my current housemate. I also am not sure if my rostered shifts will be taking on a new schedule. So please take this early chapter and be patient until I can post the following in 2-3weeks maybe... I'm not too sure honestly. Ciao Bella 😘
Inspiring Song: "Brutal" by Olivia Rodriguez
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03:00pm Sunday 18th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane
When the light hit your eyes you grunted and rubbed them with your fingers until they could handle the new bright light around you with the blindfold off.
You shivered staring up at him. Your eyes were still moist.
He had not changed his clothes. He was smiling softly down at you. He held something against your skin. Trailing the soft material along the goosebumps. Looking down at his mysteriously soft item you shrieked.
“No! No not the rope please stop! Not the rope!” You scooted away from him to the top corner of the bed, “Anything, tape, chain, ziptie but not the rope.”
His hand grabbed your ankle and dragged you viciously back to him. His hand pressed down hard on your chest and trapped you on the mattress.
You started screaming and hitting him. Punching his arms and kicking your legs. He slapped the rope beside your head and laid on top of you until you struggled to breathe and fight. His weight hurt so much, pressing on you arms and hips.
He shoved his forehead on top of yours. His nose nudged your cheek as you wept hard and blinked with those wet lashes.
“Please, don’t,” you whimpered, breaking back into another sob.
He exhaled and pressed his lips to your ear. His tongue was wet and breath hot. It felt ticklish and you had to fight the giggle in your throat. It came out in a horrid choking sensation. Tears peaked and fell down your face, wetting his.
“….the rope is the gentlest on the skin….” He purred heavily, “Why are you so frightened of it, huh?”
“Be-because,” you blubbered, “because my da-ad he-he-he….with rope.”
He sat up off you, letting you breathe and suck a healthy breath of air. You were frozen, laying down, too petrified to move.
August grabbed the rope again and twisted the tip with his fingers, “Is it because he hung himself?”
Your eyes widened. It was like a switch or spark or strike. Something lit the bubbling fuel of rage that had been sitting and mellowing deep in your belly.
'How dare he...'
You flung yourself forward and slapped him the hardest your body strength could manage. A loud ring of the skin bounced on the walls of his large empty home. His eyes were wide and his smile grew wider.
'How dare he!'
You felt the tsunami of anger and fury explode out of you. Your nails swiped him. You caught the skin of his neck and the back of his hand as you tried to claw out his eyes screaming from the bottom of your belly.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Don’t say that! Don't you ever fucking say that again! You take it back! Fuck you! Fuck you!”
You tried to kill him. You pounced at him from the bed and gagged loudly as the collar and chain snagged your throat. You must’ve looked like a feral animal. Your teeth were nashing and your hands curled like claws at him as you screamed and yelled incoherently.
He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head in the air. You were no match for his strength. Your legs couldn't stretch out and try to kick him either. Your 'claws' were unable to scratch at any of him. His face wasn't smiling smugly. Instead he looked at you with confusion, perhaps pity?
You choked as your body seized, "Fu-ck you Aug-" you took in a shattering breath that burned your lungs, "Fuck you August! You piece of fucking shit!"
A part of you wanted to hear him take it back, to prove nothing very happened. Deep inside you yearned for no one to ever speak of those events because you could just pretend deep inside that it never ever happened. The shame and anger wouldn’t exist, the loss wouldn’t be as bad and permanent. You wanted to kill August for even mentioning it. He wasn’t allowed to talk about it, 'he has no right'…how did he even know? God you hated how much he probably knew about you.
'How much stalking did he do?'
He waited for you to stop screaming and waited until your sobbing had died down again. Your head pounded loudly in your ears as you let it fall and hang. Your tears dripped quietly on the bed covers.
August very slowly released your wrists. You lowered them and held them to your chest. They were sore.
You half expected August to slap you. But when you dared to look back up at him, towering above you still, he was untangling the folded rope. You gulped.
He pressed a knee onto the mattress and laid a hand on your naked chest. He barely needed to use much force, shoving you onto your back. You whimpered. Too scared to try and fight back again.
“O' my sweet, darling girl, Shhh” he cooed, his knuckles brushed the sweat beading on your face “How life has dealt you a poor hand…” he soft rolled you to lay on your front.
You felt your body relax. He rubbed your spine with the flat of his hand smoothly. You shut your eyes and hiccupped loudly.
You were tired and especially depressed. You didn't want to go to sleep but you also wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare this was. You sincerely hoped he would just kill you at that point. Why did he have to torture you like this?
August grabbed your two wrists and tugged them behind your back, sending you into a shock again feeling the line of material on your skin.
“Please no rope!”
You couldn't pull your hands back but twisted and turned pulling and making it difficult for him to tie any safe knit around your hands. He clicked his tongue and smacked your hip.
“Look at me,” he said and waited until your eyes glanced at him, flooded in glassy tears, “You’re safe, I won’t hurt you with the rope. I promise.”
“Y-your promises mean fuck all!” You hissed with wobbling lips, “You sick fuck!”
You heard him drag out a long. His thumbs rubbed the inside of your wrists.
“And I promise you’ll regret that comment, but I digress…I’m here to help you.”
“Help me?...Help me!?”
You screamed as he began to wrap the cord around your wrists again, “Stop! Get off me! No! Please!” You sobbed hard and tried to kick him but it was met with a sharp slap to your backside, “Please! I’m begging you. For the love of God, stop! No rope!” He tightened the tie around your wrists and push you totally onto your belly.
His hands wrapped your ankles tightly and started to push them up your wrists. Your face turned to the side and you squeezed your eyes shut attempting at the last second of anything that could get him to stop.
You swallowed any sense of pride you had left.
“Daddy….” You panted, “Please Daddy stop it. Please stop tying. Daddy please.”
His fingers paused and he left go of your ankles. It was a hiccup of relief that left your mouth.
“Good girl,” his hand said subbing his thumb over the back of your neck, “You’re learning.”
The air in your lungs was disappearing, you hated yourself for submitting to him like this. You tightened your lips and tensed as his breath fanned your face.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded, you obeyed.
“Look at me,” he said, you obeyed.
He had a softened expression on such a hard face. He had this Dr. Jeckle and Hyde side about him.
He would look so sweet and kind and then the next turn into this hardened angry man.
He scared you.
He pushed you to roll back in your back. Your tied arms were crushed underneath you. You were helpless and scared.
He unlocked the chain from the collar.
“Deep breath in,” he asked and laid a hand on your belly. You obeyed.
“And out.”
A breath came out sounding like a gasp and yawn and moan. You were exhausted.
“Now, you are going to not fight me, not squirm. I have kindly let you through your tantrum, now you’re going to be a good girl and lay across my lap. I want you to talk to me and if you stop talking, I’m going to spank you. Do you understand?”
You pouted, “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t want you to hit me,” you whined.
He chuckled and ran his thumb gently cross your cheek, “Good, because I want you to talk.”
“About what?” you sniffled loudly.
“How did you find out. About him…your father.”
Your eyes widened and you shook you head dismissively, “No, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“You will,” August recounted.
“I won’t…you c-can’t make me!” you snapped.
Within seconds he sat on the bed and hauled your body over his lap, delivering three hard and loud spanks. As you wailed he rubbed the rising welts on your backside. The heat of your blood screamed to the top of your skin.
“You said that with a little too much confidence,” August muttered, squeezing the stinging flesh, “Let’s try that again, yes?”
“You knew he…” you choked, unable to share the gruesome truth yourself, “did that with the rope. That’s how. That's all there is to say.”
August’s hand left another scorching mark across your arse cheek. You tried to squirm, you tried to push away but his other arm tightly hugged your middle.
“Say it. How he did it,” August commanded.
You spat back with a screech in you tongue, “You already know!!!”
He spanked you again before yelling, “Say it!”
“He fucking killed himself!” You roared, “Is that what you want to hear, you arsehole!? He took a piece of rope, tied it to the ceiling fan and fucking hung himself!!!”
You swore the whole room shook along with your anguished voice.
“And why did he do it?” The billionaire asked the billionaire question.
You hissed, “Go to fucking hell August!” Another stinging wack of his palm.
You could hear the venom drop from his tongue as he grabbed the back of your neck and pinchingly pulled.
“Why did he do it!?”
“Because he fucking hated me!" You squealed in defeat, "He hated me! He couldn’t stand to look at me! I was his mistake!”
Your throat was sore and scratched. He let go of your neck.
After a few embarrassing moments of silence you could hear his voice softenly ask, “And how are you his mistake?”
“Stop!”
He grabbed the back of your head and tugged it up, he grunted into the shell of your ear, “How? Tell me or I’ll belt your arse so raw it’ll bruise and you won't sit for a fucking week!”
When you put up more silence, you were pushed forward and could hear the clinking of his belt coming undone.
“Teen pregnancy,” you hastily blurted, wincing, hoping he wouldnt just use his belt already, “He didn’t know my mum was underage. When she had me, she left us, she left me with him. He took custody. He couldn’t find anyone to replace my mum, he hated me for it- I know he did. He got girlfriends and they didn’t last long…they didn’t want a kid so soon in their lives, so his heart was broken more than once.”
You took a gulp. Your hands behind your pack trembled. His fingers rubbed your inner thigh and pinched your backside.
“Is that the only reason he hated you?” August asked softly.
“No,” shaking your head you shuddered, “it’s not.”
“Why else?”
It hurt, god it hurt to say it…to be forced to confess the honest agony.
“Because I wasn’t a boy and even as a girl I wasn’t pretty. He never said I looked beautiful or pretty when I asked, he just looked away and shrugged...why was I so ugly?” You complained, “Why do I have to look so much like the worst parts of my parents? It’s not fair!” Your nose sniffled as your eyes began to sting hot.
Your kidnappers soft voice then asked, “What else wasn’t fair?”
“H-how he loved his wife more than me. He picked her up one day and said I needed to start calling her my mum and I couldn’t, she was only eleven years older than me, it was weird. I didn’t understand why he chose someone who was only twenty years old at the time, and why he didn’t believe me when I told him how she hurt me when he was at work….he only hit her once he walked in on her choking me…when I started to bleed from the cut on my face. She moved out and started cheating on him. God, I hate how he still loved her.”
“He saw her hurt you like that…and he still loved her? How did you know she was cheating on him?”
His fingers started to do wickedly things. The tips tickled at your labia and dip down to dance along your clit. You hissed and tightened your thighs around his hand, but it didn’t stop him rubbing and molesting you.
You talked, not wanting another spanking and know full well there was nothing to stop him trying to pleasure your cunt.
“Her boyfriends would come around asking to see her. They’d try to come in and touch me too but I’d threaten to call the police and they’d be flying out the door.”
August sighed happily as he felt your heart beat throb against your pussy. He condescendingly asked, “Your dad knew this was happening?”
You whimpered and shook your head, your cheek rubbed the duvet. Your shut your eyes and grunted as a finger prodded your hole. You knew this was sick.
“Yes! And then he tried to slit his wrists to guilt his bitch wife to come back but I called the ambulance in time and got the blood…the bleeding to…to stop….”
“That explains the scars. But that's not what killed him.”
You nodded, he was right.
“He…” you paused as August slid two fingers into your pussy and slowly pushed then in and out, your breath hitched. It was wrong what he was doing to you. And it was wrong you softly moaned.
“Dad got out of the hospital after forty eight hours.”
Your hands clenched in fists, August could see that, you grunted, “They let him fucking loose! I was so angry at him. I told him he could kill himself only after I finished highschool.”
You remembered that look on your dads face as he pouted in his recliner refusing to look you in the eye. What did you expect after you spent hours screaming at him? You were only seventeen. You had to go to school knowing your dad was in hospital and there was a chance he could die….all that blood….red was your least favourite colour for a long while. You didn’t say anything to teachers, you didn’t need to deal with the police asking questions and making things worse with child protection.
Your sighed and felt August’s fingers stop fucking you gently. They paused and pulled away. Your breath hitched as your body felt empty of his hot digits. He drew soft lines on your ass with your wetness.
You heard him warn,“….you know what happens when you grow silent or should I remind you.”
You said nothing and bared the pain of the spank. A hissed caught through your lips but you whispered.
August didn’t catch it at first and made you repeat. You felt flushed. You couldn’t believe you were actually asking him.
You weren’t crying anymore, you didn’t want to, you were angry and sad.
“August…if I call you Daddy…will you let me sit up and…hug me?”
The sound of his inhaled was like a contemplation, “I’m not sure…that’s a special privilege…why don’t you try and ask nicely?”
You opened your eyes and looked over your shoulder at him and whimpered, “Pl-please hug me Daddy.”
He slid a hand beneath your chest and held your hip as he pulled you up and turned you around. He crossed his legs on the bed and swaddled you in his arms. Your hands were still behind your back, your hot bottom stuck onto his trousers.
“C’mere sweetheart,” his voice broke you, you started to whimper and dug your face into his shoulder and cried into his warm cotton shirt.
“Daddy’s got you, all safe now.” He said as he rocked you and let you compose yourself. You pressed your cheek to his collarbone and shut your eyes.
How could a cruel man like him become soft?...
He asked and held your cheek as he rocked very slowly, “And what happened after you gave him permission to end his own life?”
'It wasn't permission, it was a last chance to plea...'
“He did as promised…he waited…and waited…and then when he said he was going to end his marriage I was actually happy for him.” Your voice trembled, “I said he was smart and told him that he…he…wait…no…that’s not right...I-”
You swallowed and squeezed your eyes opened as horror and realisation poured from your puffy mouth, “I said ‘It's about time…’ and the-then he gave me all of his cameras. And left. A few hours he came back, he told me he went to see his wife and I knew he meant he went to go sleep with her….I got so angry.”
You sighed, “I threw something at him?…a cup? A plate? It doesn’t matter. I didn’t even feel guilty for doing it…I was happy I made him sad…for the first time I fed off the glee that he felt shitty…I said he was a ‘fucking loser and a dumb ass.’ I said he shouldn’t have ever had me, should never gotten married and if he was going to keep letting himself get fucked over by his wife he should….”
You cut yourself off. You whimpered and buried your nose into August’s armpit.
Why did he have to smell so good? Why didn’t this man have terrible body odour?
You heard him tut and pulled your shoulder away from him. He cupped your jaw and ran a thumb over your bottom lip.
“What did you say?…Y/N?”
“I said…” you gasped and cried, “he should go fuck himself and stop the pity party because it was me that should be sad and suicidal, not him.”
With another suck if air you growled and glared into August’s eyes, “But…God…deep down I said in my mind that he should kill himself and make it easier for me to hate him. It’s all my fault.” Your eyes looked up to the ceiling while your face contorted.
August leg go of your face and brushed his fingers through your hair as he said soothingly, “Your thoughts didn’t kill him.”
Your naked body pressed into him. You couldn’t hold the balance for to long and leaned against him. Your nose touched his and you frustratedlg groaned, “B-but I was so mean to him…I threw a plate at him. I called him names. I bullied him and argued…I…I killed him. I know it was me.”
August kissed your cheek and slid you down back to his chest to hug you. He turned your hips out and patted your bottom softly.
You didn’t need prompting anymore from him.
“And normally every night I’d always ask him at dinner how his day was, I’d tell him I’d loved him and that I was going to bed and would see him in the morning before he’d go to work. He would get up at four am and leave at five am. He drove a truck around town, delivering to the Asian grocery stores and bars, he was their favourite delivery driver…they’d give him presents and free food all the time.”
“Yea?” August cooed, “What else? Did you wish him a goodnight?”
You mewled, “No, I didn’t. I-I was so m-mad. I told him I hated him and I said he wasn’t allowed in my room. I slammed the door so-so hard…he didn’t go to work and I felt like he was grumpy at me, his door was shut…When it was six am I made him some breakfast and I put it outside his door because he didn’t answer my knocking…”
You took a pause and swallowed to stop yourself crying, you forced a pitiful laugh from your mouth, “I was such a cunt…I remember saying something stupid like ‘’fine be a prick.” I started to clean my room and do the laundry and by nine am he still hadn’t grabbed the porridge. I got…a little frustrated -but I felt sorry for throwing the cup or plate and I knew he was upset. I went in to go wake him up or to apologise…”
You grew totally silent and August waited patiently.
You whispered into his neck, “His feet…I-I saw his feet first and you know what’s sick?” you smiled weakly.
August smiled and whispered back, “What’s sick?”
“I laughed and asked dad, ‘’how did you figure out how to float like that?” And I remember the stab of shock that jolted in me the moment it clicked…” you licked your bottom lip and shrugged, “his forehead was swollen and his eyes not fully shut. Lips a little blue… It was awful. I can’t forget that look.” You sighed and looked August in the eye, “He….he looked like he was made of wax…the moment I knew what he had done I grabbed his legs. I tried to pull him down. And when I couldn’t figure out how to get the rope off the fan I tried to use his phone to call help. His phone was flat. I tried to run to my room and grab mine but I tripped over the bowl of porridge and hit the ground hard.”
You remembered the loud this and the slippery wetness on your side. Your face cringed and you pulled your knees up in August’s lap a little more. He continued to pat your backside.
“I was screaming. I remember the pain in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I had to crawl to my phone because it was too painful to walk. I barely remember the woman on the phone. But she tried to ask me to check his pulse and I didn’t want to go back into the room.”
You gasped, “God I didn’t but I did….I had to. And I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t hear his belly move or his heart beat. I remember standing for a very long time, just holding his legs trying to get him to stand up on my shoulders or, to move. He was freezing…he…I don’t know how long….but…the um…the officers came in, they…I don’t know how they got in…maybe they picked the lock. They got him down and took him out. I got mad they didn’t let me come ….one officer told me it wasn’t an ambulance so I couldn’t come…I don’t think I was able to accept that he died, not until they wrung me up a week later to tell me he was ready to be released and have a funeral set up. A part of me thought he would wake up like a miracle…like he could just do some supernatural shit…like he would come home that evening or the next morning and ask me to make him porridge. And he’d smile and say he just felt sad or something and-and that he would buy me some noodles or some sponge cakes when he went to work tomorrow...”
You angrily whined, “But he didn’t…fucking arsehole. He left me…he…died…he…hated me and chose….the easy way out…”
August rubbed your back and whispered, “Cry.”
“What?” you shuddered not understanding what he was saying.
“You’re allowed to cry. You want to cry….so cry,” he said.
Your blinked once, twice and then the damn broke entirely. You wept into his shoulder and just started to blabber, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Pl-please don’t spank me Daddy.”
He sympathetically crooned, “O' my sweet girl, no more, you don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to, daddy has heard enough.”
After some time of more sobbing and rocking in his arms you rubbed your eyes and yawned.
“I’m so tired,” you moaned and smiled sadly at the feeling of his warm chest vibrate with a chuckle.
“I bet you are poppet, lay back” he pulled away and lifted the bed covers. He lifted you up and slid your legs inside beneath the layers. “You can have a nap,” he whispered sweetly as his fingers tugged at the knot of your bound wrists. When the came undone you curled them Infront of you and rolled onto your side facing him. He locked the chain to your collar and smiled at you. You smiled back.
Jesus…your brain felt fuzzy about that…he forced you to talk about your father and how it was your fault, he humilated you worse than when you cummed in the recliner in your apartment…and you….wanted to fucking thank the man….'what the actual fuck?'
Something made you want to accept this condesending treatment as long as he held you and cradled you and let you cry without a fear of judgement.
To this day you’ll never understand what possessed you to do it… but you could never take it back. As he started to shift away and move off the bed, your hand shot out and wrapped itself around his wrist.
“N-no, don’t leave me, please,” you begged, your eyes soaked the pillow while your wet lips trembled.
He looked down at your hand and softly sighed, he leant down to your head and kissed your temple, “I’m right here, I’m not going far, I’m going to grab you some painkillers because I know you’re going to have a headache soon.”
“N-no!” you whined.
His eyes widened before his voice hardened in a commanding grunt, “Y/N…let go of me…be a good girl…”
You didn’t….you couldn’t. Your hand squeezed tighter. He touched it with the rope and noticed how you flinched off him in seconds like the rope had magically burnt your hand.
He nodded and pursed his lips, “I promise I’ll be back in five minutes.”
He made true to the promise…he returned in four minutes and forty seconds…how did you know? Because you desperately counted ever single one until your abuser returned.
A cup in his hand and a pill in his palm. You didn’t have the guts to ask if it was a pair killer or the same drug that forced you unconcious when he first fucked you.
“Open up those pretty little lips.”
Your mouth parted, he popped the pill in and held the edge of the cup to your thirsty chapped lips, “Drink.”
You guzzled the water down and let out a relieved gasp as he set it aside on the table. “Good girl.”
As he turned, you realised he was going to the door. Leaving… “W-wait!” you called and weakly sat up.
He paused at the door. His fingers traced the metal handle, “Yes?”
“D-don’t leave me…” your sucked in a deep and demeaning breath as you pleaded to him, “D-daddy please don’t go.”
You peeled the blankets back and struggled to crawl out towards him. His blue eyes blinked. He reached up and scratches his chin, observing your pathetic state. He tilted his head.
“What do you want?”
“I…I…” You struggled to answer, your bottom lip buried beneath you teeth, you sucked hard and whispered, “I want you to stay…I want…you to cuddle me again…please.”
A smirk spread in the corner of his mouth, “And what will I get in return?”
It was wounding…the concept you had to earn his affections now…where was the free treatment from that day you first met him?
You didn’t even know what you could offer him.
“I don’t have anything…I…I have barely any money...I don't know what you've done with my purse.”
He chuckled cruelly, “You have a commodity…your body. You have a mouth…”
Your eyes widened. It clicked what he was hinting at. You were unsure if you really want to just for a hug…but after such a long couple days and confusion in your life, you would offer anything for a moment of peace.
“I’ll suck your cock…” your mouth quivered, “Please just hold me…I’m tired and I’m scared. Please!”
He looked you up and down one last time before sighing and nodding. Your hands reached out like a sad needy puppy. His fingers cupped them and guided you back to your original spot.
He moved the chain away from you both. You kneeled and shut your eyes waiting for him to just use your mouth….
“Y/N…scoot over. You can do it in the morning.”
Relief washed over your head like a cold ice bucket.
He pushed your body away as he took off his shoes and socks. He slipped beside you and dragged you to his side.
He playfully scolded you, “I spoil you rotten.” His finger tapped your nose. He kissed your forehead and watched you happily sigh.
Your eyes started to grow droopy. You knew it was the unknown drug he used on you weeks ago. You grew tired too quickly for it not to be.
As your body felt motionless and gooey you let your head roll onto his shoulder. Your mouth uncontrollably starting to drool onto him. He was smiling and stroking your head almost lovingly.
You weren’t sure if he was going to use you while you fell into your drugged sleep but you were happy to have this small peace. Even if he killed you…you were going to die at peace.
“Goodnight,” you heard and fell into the mindless nothingness.
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08:02am Monday 19th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane
You had absolutely zero knowledge of what day it was, how long you had been with August, or where he had kept your clothes…when you woke up though, your eyes watched the ticking of his expensive looking watch. It’s handles moving slow at a time of eight am.
Your head slowly rose. Your chain reflected from the morning sunlight burning from the windows.
You held down the yawn building in your throat and glanced over your shoulder.
August was out cold.
His face was totally relaxed. His bushy eye brows however left a certain hardness to his face. His lips were slightly parted and a soft snore left through them.
He was handsome and it hurt you knowing that beautiful men could be as evil and abusive as ugly men. A beautiful man was probably more ugly because they could hide their evil better.
You gulped and tried to move carefully. You had no idea what waking up a man like him could do to you…and you remembered sincerely of the promise to suck his cock.
You had never sucked cock before...and it disgusted you to think about...
'Men pee from there, why do people even do blow jobs?...ew.'
But you promised, in exchange for this. A loving cradling in a bed with him. And as wonderful as it had felt for a brief moment, you couldn't help but resent your past promise to him.
The more time you put it off, the better.
As you moved you felt something metal press against your ass. Your fingers slowly and carefully picked at it. Lifting the small object to the light…it reflected light into your eye.
A tiny silver key…
The key….
To your chain….
You didn’t hesitate, you slowly unlocked it, trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. As the pad lock clicked open and the chain grew loose. You settle the chain careful on the pillow and away from his arm.
It was scary, the tension of moving your backside across the bed sheets. Your toes touching the carpet. Trying to move slow enough to move nothing. You pushed up and stood.
He hadn’t woken up not moved a inch. You swallowed and stood away from the bed. You stood confused and naked. You couldn't think about searching for clothes in this bedroom. You didn't know where he had stored your stolen gown. Your feet tiptoed to the open door.
You didn’t know if there was a home phone on a wall somewhere. You wondered where he had your clothes and most importantly your purse with your phone.
You recalled him stepping on your phone in the park and considered that it was probably destroyed and thrown away...August had such a fierce look about him. You shuddered and worried to see it again if he woke up soon with you missing.
You looked at the key on you and…you were desperate.
Shoving the metal in between your teeth, it slip to the back of your mouth and your eyes screamed as it swallowed and scratched the entire way down your throat.
There was no way you wanted him to chain you back to the bed. And something suggested confidently to you that the padlocks on the gag and blindfold were the same as the bed chain.
You found his room. You knew the millionaire would have a closet in his own master bedroom.
It was beside the bathroom. A walk in. Your purse was sitting on the centre island. You gasped and ran to it and dumped the contents. You found your phone and almost sobbed… the screen was shatter and it wasn't turning on.
With all the strength you mustered you kept your mouth closed and your brain calm. Your costume dress was still missing, you didn't have time to waste. You stole one of his shirts. It was hanging in a long collection, organised by shades of white, navy, grey and black.
'Definitely a psychopath. No one is this particular or maybe his housekeeper is. Does he have a housekeeper? Surely? He is rich enough.'
His shirts, trousers and blazers where either folded neatly or hanging in the open spaces after all being beautifully ironed.
You buttoned the shirt up. You couldn’t find his underwear. You found some sweat shorts and tried tightening them around your waist. His shorts that probably cut off at his knees ended at your mid calf.
God he was so fucking huge. It made you remember why he was so intimidating. His height…
You took your purse and even broken phone. Dashing out his closet and room you bolted down the hall and staircase.
You tried your best to remember where everything was, including the exit. You found the kitchen and stole a carving knife from a butcher block set.
If he or anyone wanted to fuck with you, you wanted to make it clear that there was gonna be a blood spill.
You would be okay going to jail for assault if it meant you got out of this shit alive. You just needed to run.
You got to the glass doors that led to the outdoor pool in the gardens and patio it would lead to the back yard or some sort of garage where you might find a security button to open the front gates and sprint to the nearest bus stop. Unlocking every piece you smiled as the glass easily slid open.
You felt the cold morning air hit your face and body. His clothes were light and did barely anything against the wind.
You stood onto the concrete platform and heard something shuffle around the bushes of the garden. For a moment you thought you were crazy hearing a growl…a animal growl…a dog growl…your eyes glanced to your side. Your fingers tightened around the kitchen knife.
You held your breath as you met the sight of a dog, no- no, a big fucking dog. A small bear if you might humour yourself. This dogs bottom was in the air while his head was on the floor, teeth bare and growling.
It’s massive coat was pricked up and defensive.
And when it pounced, you squealed and ran back inside, launching the glads door back closed. You heard the beast yelp as you closed the door on the tip of its nose.
It’s teeth was gnashing and biting as it barked at you through the glass.
You held up your hand to block the door from gliding open. You frantically turned the knob to lock it.
Fuck! August would wake up and find you missing if this wild animal kept barking. You felt like an idiot. Of course August would have at least one guard dog.
The moody guard dog huffed and turned around before bolting back and slamming itself onto the door.
The shock had you falling on your arse.
Or rather...into someone’s arms.
His strong muscle appendages caved around you. His hand grabbed your knife wielding hand harshly, twisting your wrist until you were forced to let it go.
The blade clattered loudly as you screamed and grunted pathetically.
August held you strong and walked backwards until he could sit on the couch with you squirming in his lap.
“Oh look at you, miss escape artist…” a whine caught in your throat as his nose shoved itself against your jaw. His voice heavily rasped, “Planning on trying to run off? O' believe you me…” he patronised, looking at his aggressive dog back at you “That would be a terrible idea…”
He slapped your inner thigh. You jumped and hissed from the sudden pain.
This morning would be one to remember for a while.
“I see you’ve met Kal!” His fingers dug into your sides. You sneered at him and grabbed at his hands, weakly pulling him off.
“You didn’t have a dog last time!” you whined as you squirmed.
He snickered and forced your legs over his hips. His hand snuck down into the stolen shorts and he kisses your neck as he rubbed at your clit.
“He was here last time, I swear but he was in his kennel that day and I wanted you all to myself.”
You sighed as his large fingers played and soothed you to a unpredictable horny mess.
There was no use fighting when he had you so caught up. You really weren’t sure if he would beat you but the memory of the recliner and the spanking in the guest bed were fresh to remind you how he could play with you if you refused or displeased him.
You wanted to get out alive. He caught you out of bed with his stolen clothes, your broken phone and a knife in hand. It wasn’t a good appearance.
He didn’t let you cum. No. He pulled his hand away before you reached the sweet completion.
Your bum felt his bone hard erection and struggled to move away from it.
“Do you know how much trouble you’re in? Answer me Y/N,” he softly pressed.
You shook your head and tried craning your neck back to kiss his prickly cheek.
“No…no I…I just…”
“Just thought you could leave without making good on your promise? You have a cock to suck… are you ready for that?”
You shook your head again and confessed strongly, “No, I don’t know how to do that….I said it because I was scared.”
He laughed again and chewed the bottom of your ear, “Oh? Then this will be exciting.”
He pulled your dazed body off and pressed you onto your knees on the carpet rug. Between his thighs, you swallowed and looked up at him. Smirking with a sadistic tilt to his head, August looked like a fallen angel.
You gagged as you watched him lift the hand that was just fucking you up to his lips. He licked and sucked each digit like they were a delicious treat. His exaggerated moans of pleasure had you rolling your eyes.
After another moment he put his hands back and jerked his chin at you.
“Well? Unzip me. Go on.”
His dogs barking made it hard for you to hear him but with your eyes following his lips and direction of eyesight you knew what he wanted out of you.
He watched with a lazy gaze as your finger tips pinched his zipper and tugged down the opening.
His flaccid dick, unprotected from any underwear greeted your sight.
With warm hands and a wish you had for any chance of forgiveness from him for trying to run out on him; you collected his cock into your palms.
It felt warm and lame for a moment before a great pulse cause you to jump and the member to flinch and twitch. His veins bobbed slightly.
You tried thinking about what girls in porn did…they always did this hugging thing with their breast. Motorboating? Tit surfing? You unbuttoned his stolen shirt in one hand while holding and squeezing his heavy cock in the other.
He was staring as you shed the silky shirt to the floor. You sat at his feet with your breasts bare. You wondered what was going through his head…he wasn’t just a lustful predator….he was a calculating business man.
That led you to ponder on if this was like a business transaction? You asked for his kindness and in exchange you had to debase yourself as his personal unpaid whore…
To make matters worse, you were unsure if catching you trying to escape would lead to some sick punishment like how he caught you in the club.
You were annoyed that if you made it out alive there was no evidence of those deals or the murder of the Melbourne Embezzler.
You were still behind in your plot of revenge and as tempting as it was just to bite his cock off with your teeth, you’d never leave this place alive…not even a chance…
You sat up a little on your knees and shuffled closer. You pulled at his cock some more until it was entirely hard in your palm.
He smirked before he mockingly asked, “Are you going to fucking suck it or am I just waiting here until you turn me off enough to lose interest?”
With widened eyes, you sheepishly stared at the pink thick sausage in your hand and cringed.
Your tongue timidly poked out and you licked at his tip. He sighed, but it was full of impatience. A strange anxiety filled you… overwhelming fear of disappointing him. You knew logically it was dumb. You didn't respect August why did you care what he actually thought of you? You just needed to get out of there alive.
Your tongue and lips spread kisses along his wide shaft before you opened your mouth as wide as you could and attempted to put him in your mouth. You looked crazy. Your teeth trying to stay wide open but your lips peeled back away from them….
August laughed at you, “Are you planning to bite my cock off with those rows of fangs?”
Eyes filled with confusion and self-conciousness fluttered up at him. His thumb rubbed along your cheek and he told you to wrap your teeth up in your lips and to stick out your tongue more.
Now it was truly humiliating…following his instructions and wagging your tongue out like some dog.
Your eyes glanced to the left where the glass doors were now empty of his fluffy beast.
His hand pushed your mouth down a little further. Your cheeks felt full with his girth along and when his head hit the bag if your throat, you loudly wretched and pulled back but found his hand forcing you back down onto him. Your spit flew out messily on his cock. Your eyes watered instantly at the irritating sensation. You felt suffocated and choked in his thick appendage.
It was confronting to have something so big being pushed back into your mouth. You gagged on just two fingers, you had no clue what you must’ve looked like with a cock a third of a way in your mouth.
He did it over and over until you scratched at his hand and he let you pulled back, falling back on your ass and rasping for breath.
You heaved and swiped your mouth and tears. You hoped you wouldn’t have to ever do that again and next time you wanted something from him you’d never promise a blow job.
“If you want to leave today, you have to do something for me…”
You were stupid…you were desperate…you asked “What?”
“Open your mouth.” He commanded.
You winced, afraid he would shove it back into your mouth…you obeyed. You didn’t expect the assault of his thick cum spraying across your face. Some dropped into your mouth as it flew. Most of it stuck in your hair and dribbled down into your eyes.
He chuckled at the sheer horror of shock written over your face covered in his pearly cum.
You were about to wipe it away until August grabbed your wrist brutally and shook his head.
“You belong to me. I own you. You aren’t going to clean this off until you get home. Do I make myself clear?”
A shuddering breath escaped you as you nodded.
'Home?'
He was letting you go…you couldn’t understand why he was so lenient with your freedom. You accused him of rape and yet you lived…he killed a man just for a small crime of embezzlement…
But you were graciously relieved.
You were surprised he let you put on his stolen shirt again. He pinched a nipple but he gave you back your purse and broken phone while he called someone to pick you up. A driver. Jude.
August took you out front of the house once the black vehicle arrived and slipped inside of the car with you. He leant across and buckled you in reminding you that he liked this power dynamic even through the little things. Wiping you clean, buckling your seat, feeding you...you wouldn't call it infantilism the entire way...it felt like the motive was to humiliate, not to take care of you...The entire time was filled with a stretchy and uncomfortable pull of tension.
You didn't face the rearview mirror in case Jude could see all the embarrassing white cum drying on your face and in your hair.
“I…I-” you tried to ask but fell silent and afraid. The cum was drying on your face, a perfect reminder of your place. Beneath him.
He looked at you with interest, “What’s on your mind?”
“I am…confused…why haven’t you just killed me yet? I’m disposable, and I know you already know if I go missing…no one is going to look for me…”
He didn’t take his eyes off you and you couldn’t even meet them. Your knees rose up against your chest.
His finger touched the skin beneath your chin and made you look at him.
“Because…Y/N…I am not someone to throw away my toys so easily. You are a important posession and it would be very stupid of me to waste you."
He leant in and kissed you softly, breathing against your soft lips, "You’ve got a tight cunt and a dead father to thank for that.”
That made you lunge…you slapped his face hard. The sound cracking. Everything was dead silent. Even Jude was holding his breath. You turned your body away and cowered in the door.
“Fuck you…fuck…you.” You sobbed. You didn’t like how he mentioned your dad. It made you think on how he forced such a terrible confession from you about the days that it all went down.
You expected him to hit you, to make you beg for mercy.
Only his cheek flinched as his pale flesh became a mean pink in the shape of your fingers. He sat back and nodded slowly.
He knew that was too far. He smirked..
'that selfish fucker.'
He didn’t harm you like you feared he would.
He brought you home and you half expected him to invade your space, rape you again for your outburst in the car. But no…he took you up the stairs. Unlocked the door and returned your key.
He chuckled at the sight of all your installed locks, "Here I thought Jude was pulling my leg..."
He shook his head and smiled. Before you could run inside and slam the door shut he blocked your path with his hand. He leant his head down and purred. With his other hand he fingered the leather around your throat.
And then he asked, “Mind telling me what you did with the key to the bondage gear?”
Your hand cupped your throat…you still wore the collar…fuck…
You bit your lip and shook your head, “I ugh…swallowed it…” you confessed.
His eyes slowly widened in disbelief. His laughter grew harder, “You are truly a special one my little dear, fret not I’ll have another copy made and we can take the collar off you. Or not…I mean I do love the look on your face as you wear it.”
August pulled you close and hard as he planted his mouth over yours and viciously kissed you before turning around on his toes. He waved a hand at you.
“Until next time sweetness!” he called, "Don't forget to clean your breakfast off your face!"
You sighed and felt your knees buckle. You rushed through your door and locked every deadbolt and chain across.
You rushed to the kitchen and vomited in the sink. Your face felt crusty from his cum. You hissed as some peeled from your skin.
Your eyes watered. You stumbled back to your room and struggled to charge your phone. It refused to turn on. It was fucked.
'I need to talk to someone, I need to make sure Lloyd is okay, please dear god make sure he made it out of the Lions Lounge den. Fuck you August!'
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HELPLINES:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .
Australian Helpline Services
UK Helpline Services
American Helpline Services
India Helpline Services.
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91 notes · View notes
sillyrabbit81 · 1 year
Text
The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Sixteen
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Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.
A reverse harem, biker AU.
Part Sixteen Summary: Marshall opens up about his past.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC
Word Count: Approx. 3.1k
Warnings:
Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.
Part Sixteen Warnings: slight angst, discussion of murder and violence against women, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of body fluids, I think thats it
Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .
So... Been a while... I am really nervous about posting because it has been so long! But I put my big girl pants on and I'm just going to do it. This chapter had to be split in half, which was a small reason for why this took so long to put out, the other part is that I think some of it is a bit dry... Exposition is hard!!!! The next part isn't quite finished but this point was a natural stopping point so I figure, post this and then maybe I won't be so in my head about the next bit.
Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.
Masterlist
Parts Masterlist
Part Fifteen Part Seventeen
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Lori
I woke up with a start.
My heart was beating as fast as a mouse’s and I was sucking in huge gulps of air that failed to fill the hollow in my chest. I was shaking, every muscle and sinew quivering with a chilling thrum, yet I was frozen. I willed myself to move but my glaciated neurons refused to fire, iced over, hardened, ready to snap.
From behind me, a heavy arm moved on my waist and a hand pressed against my belly as soft whiskers and gentle lips caressed and the back of my neck. Relief warmed my blood in a balmy rush, my body thawing in a heady and welcomed surge.
Marshall. It was only Marshall.
“Alright?” he asked, his voice low and rough from sleep.
I hummed, not quite ready to speak. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. Small and generic, its garish neon green digital numerals reminded me that my room wasn’t actually my room and my briefly mollified anxiety inched its way back into my tightening chest.
I’d barely slept, little more than dozed. I wondered if I should get up and shower, but I didn’t want to disturb Marshall. So I laid there and listened to his breathing return to its regular cadence while I tried to recall and hold onto my dream. I might as well have tried to catch a cloud, the memories were wispy vapours, too vague and insubstantial to retain, leaving behind echoing stains of dread and emptiness. 
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what I had dreamed of. The strange and rapid life changes over the past couple of weeks made it possible for me to push aside the grief from the loss of my parents and focus on other things like my anger at Nate, the shocking revelations about Jake, and the developing situation with the Brothers. I may have made a conscious decision not to dwell and process my emotions, but my subconscious was obviously not on board.
I focussed on the rhythm of Marshall’s breathing, the soft reverberation in his throat on each inhale and the sturdy snugness of his arms while I pushed down the lingering feelings, stuffing them like clothes into a laundry basket, deep into the recesses of my mind. Even as I crammed them away, I knew I’d have to deal with my emotions at some point. I told myself I would, just not today, or tomorrow. Maybe in a month or two. Or three. When I was home again, or alone, or when things were back to normal.
Eventually, the residual fear from my lost dream ebbed and slowly faded while a myriad of new ones took its place. 
Had last night been another mistake on the long list of mistakes I had made. Was Marshall another Jake? Was Sy for that matter?
Sy.
Now that Marshall and I had crossed the Rubicon, would Sy still feel the same way about me when he returned and faced the reality of what he had agreed to? Or, had the existence of the pact forced him to adhere to it out of a sense of bravado and loyalty to the Brotherhood? Had I just turned myself into another groupie, a woman destined for a lifetime of disrespect, deception and disillusion, stupidly thinking that an outlaw, an outsider, a biker, could change for them?
I waited for the gut feeling that I had fucked up by sleeping with Marshall to arrive, but it never came. Of course there were no guarantees in any relationship, but everything that had happened with Marshall had felt sincere and genuine. 
“I can hear you thinking,” Marshall grumbled. His breath was warm against my ear and his gentle accent made me shiver as a heated rush rippled across my skin, soothing and comforting me.
“I thought you were asleep,” I said.
He grunted and shifted his body until he laid on his back. I rolled over, following him and he tucked me under his arm. He glanced with a half smile that I barely picked up in the darkness of the room. I returned it and his grin grew slightly bigger before he laid his head back into the pillows.
“My sleep cycle has been off for years. Never recovered from shift work with the PD.”
I shimmied closer to him, pressing my breasts against his side, resting my thigh across his hips and dipped my fingers into the thick, coarse curls that spread across his chest from shoulder to shoulder. In response, I felt him stroke my arm, the tips of his fingers tracing an invisible path.
“Marshall?”
“Lori,” he replied, one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk.
“How did you end up in the Brotherhood?”
His smile vanished instantly and after a couple of passes over my arm, his hand stopped his caress, pausing mid stroke. His eyes sought out mine and I made it easier for him, by laying my chin on his chest, ignoring the way his wispy hairs tickled my jaw.
“There were a series of murders. Women, young women, some still teens. To call them murders doesn’t go far enough, each one was assaulted, tortured…” Marshall trailed off but his fingers began to stroke me again, this time sweeping over my back.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said.
Marshall grunted and took a deep breath. “It was a long investigation that led nowhere. We had physical evidence, DNA, but no matches in the system and no motives. There were no useful eyewitnesses, no connections between the victims, they were of different racial backgrounds, economic status, from all over the city. We kept hitting dead ends, every lead we had didn’t pan out. Meanwhile, more girls were showing up dead, nearly a dozen and the media were breathing down our necks.”
He scoffed, his lip curled in disgust.
“They can be viscous,” I said, remembering the media circus that followed my parents' death.
Lifting his head, Marshall kissed my forehead before continuing.
“Eventually a name popped up that looked promising, he had been a contact in four of the victim’s phones. No other number had shown up twice, let alone four times. So we started an investigation into him. Found out he was a CEO of a financial institution or an investment bank, I don’t remember which. He was young, one of those prodigious financial wizards that seemed to have the Midas touch. He was famous in the financial world, puff pieces in newspapers, magazines, you know the type?”
I nodded and he continued.
“We’d barely gotten further than collecting basic background on this guy when the case was taken out of our hands by the Feds. I was furious, obviously, their jurisdiction over the case was on a flimsy basis at best. There was nothing I could do about it but wait for news of the investigation. However, months went by and… nothing. No news, no arrests, no more media reports, nothing.”
“He wasn’t the guy?”
Marshall shrugged. “I thought I must have been wrong. After a year, a homeless guy was arrested and charged.”
“So you had the wrong guy, after all?”
Marshall chuffed and shook his head.
“I knew in my gut the man they arrested was a patsy. I looked into it. I talked to some of his friends from the streets and as far as I could tell he wasn’t even in town when the first three victims had been murdered. His friends said he came to the city to attend the funeral of his murdered daughter.”
“No,” I gasped, my mouth covering my hand in shock.
“Yes,” Marshall said, “He was the father of the first victim we found. We had tried to contact him in the early days of the investigation, but he couldn’t be located. By the time he had discovered what happened to his daughter, there had been other victims and it was no longer a priority to find him and rule him out as a suspect.”
I thought about Nate and my father. I had never been privy to the dealings of the club, but you picked things up. The club had a surprisingly low number of members with criminal records and although I had never been explicitly told, I knew it was because the “right” people had been paid off for years. I figured the real killer must have been doing something similar, but on a massive scale.
“So what did you do?” I asked. 
“I took my theories up the chain and requested permission to do my own investigation. I was told in no uncertain terms that if I did that, it would cost me my badge.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Shit.”
“I couldn’t let it go though. I knew I couldn’t investigate alone and I suspected that I might be under surveillance. I couldn’t ask anyone else in the department to risk their job, so I called a guy I trusted. He used to be a bounty hunter but by then was working as a private security contractor.”
“Geralt?” I guessed.
“Geralt,” Marshall repeated. “He used his connections and reported back that there had been rumours floating about this guy for years, from his college days to his early Wall Street days to this case. Reports of domestic violence from women he’d had relationships with and assaults on sex workers that always seemed to be retracted or ignored. Somehow, this fucking guy kept getting away with fucking murder because of his connections.”
He closed his eyes and the muscles of his jaw pulsed beneath his thickly bearded skin. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes and his voice was husky as he continued.
“When I realised what they had done to that man, that girl’s father… I wasn’t particularly idealistic and I wasn’t naive, but I had never thought that this level of corruption could happen. The Feds, the media, the PD; how many people must be involved, how many people were paid off or blackmailed? Everything I knew, everything I….”
He shrugged and was quiet. I waited, sure he had more to say. But he stayed silent, jaw twitching again and his eyes seemed to glaze over as his thoughts seemed to drift away.
I placed my hand on his cheek, my thumb sweeping along the bone and tilted my head to kiss his chest softly. Marshall’s hand went to my hair stroking my hair off my face.
“I quit. I couldn’t do that kind of work again, not knowing what I knew. I went back to Geralt, thinking with my SWAT background, maybe I’d try private security. Instead, Geralt introduced me to Sy and Walker.”
“What happened to the CEO?”
Marshall’s grin was a little disconcerting as he replied, “He got his in the end. An international financial scandal ruined him. The bank he headed was laundering money for the cartels and he was directly implicated in running the scam. The CIA got him for that one, apparently his reach didn’t go that far.”
“What happened to the father?” I asked.
“Suicide in prison while awaiting trial. It was a fucking joke.”
“I’m sorry, Walter,” I said softly.
His eyes found mine. Blue, deep and clear, they held me and I couldn’t look away. He sighed and shifted his hips. The movement made his thigh brush high between my legs and I became very conscious of the fact that both of us were naked.
The atmosphere changed, the air crackled with an electric anticipation and a heady jolt of lust worked its way down my spine to my core. I wasn’t alone, Marshall breathing became heavy, his nostrils flaring as he drew in each breath and his chest swelled.
His fingertips began to skim over my back again, and my skin broke out in goosebumps as I shivered with pleasure. His burly arms drew me to his chest, the coarse hair tickled my nipples as he guided me onto my back. Blanketing me with his comfortingly heavy body, his weight was concentrated at our hips and effectively pinned me to the mattress. My legs split beneath him, opening myself up in a shameless invitation. He took the hint, and he rolled his hips against me as he kissed me. 
It was like he was a different man; his feral, almost brutal urgency gave way to languid deliberateness. His lips moved down the column of my neck, hands exploring, clasping my ribs as if he wanted to caress not just the flesh, but the bones beneath. Moving with barely restrained greed, he slipped my nipple into his mouth and his teeth captured it while his velvety tongue flicked. His lips were satin, his beard was rugged silk, equally coarse and soft as he kissed and rubbed his cheeks against the sensitive skin between my breasts.
Opening his bearded jaw wide, he took more of me into his mouth than just my pink pebbled nipple. I watched bleary eyed as creamy skin disappeared into his warm mouth and his tongue lashed. My fingers slid into his thick curls, holding him close, begging for more.
I moved a hand down his shoulder and back feeling his dense muscles ripple under my touch. I went lower, down his side and abdomen, a rush of heat surged through me as my fingers found the trail of hair below his navel. I wanted to follow its path, wanted to feel him throbbing just like I was.
Thwarting my plans, Marshall laid warm, wet, kisses down my tummy, and became out of reach. I let out a petulant moan and he grinned, rubbing his beard against a sensitive spot near my hip, making me giggle and squirm out of his grasp. He caught my hip and pushed me down to the bed again in a flash back to his earlier impatience.
“Shh,” he soothed with a wolfish grin.
His hand swept down my thigh, curling under my knee and gently guiding my legs further apart. His kisses started at my knee and moved down the inside of my thigh, heat from his mouth made me shiver and I fell back onto the bed. He got closer to my soaked, throbbing core and I felt his tongue at the crease of my thigh, lapping at the combined wetness there from both my arousal and his release.
I gasped and leaned up on my elbows to watch and his feverish blue eyes were looking up at me from between my legs. My body looked as aroused as I felt, nipples tight and hard, tummy and thighs trembling, my pussy was swollen and glistening with the remains of our previous, furious love making.
Fingers glided over me, thumbs pulling apart my folds, his breath simultaneously warm and cooling against my hot throbbing sensitive skin. A finger teased my weeping core, swirling at my entrance. I was on fire, desperately clenching at nothing, and I could feel evidence of his orgasm leaked from within me.
“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath.
“Marshall,” I said breathlessly, reaching for his shoulders, trying to pull him up to me, “stop teasing me. Just fuck me.”
“I’ll fuck you,” he said, voice husky, almost gone. Then he mumbled something I couldn’t catch against my pussy.
The feel of his tongue prodding my entrance, no doubt tasting himself as he ate me out was so wickedly filthy to me that I was completely transfixed by the lurid eroticism, I’d never experienced anything like it. I could barely hold myself up, but the sight of him practically pussy drunk and groaning was too good not to look at. He growled, his arms wrapped around my thighs and he pushed his face into me, soft prickles of his beard against me made me shake even more and despite wanting to keep watching, I fell back to the mattress.
Suede-like brushes against my clit had me shaking, the tension in my muscles quivering like violin strings. Jesus christ he was amazing, then he sucked softly on my clit, and I was gone, crying out as my hands tangled in his hair, tightening into fists and held him against me. He didn’t stop as I came, his hands moved to my hips, his long fingers splayed across my belly and waist as if he wanted to feel my body move as I buckled.
My hands unclenched, and I shuddered with aftershocks as Marshall stayed where he was, softly licking at my core. I closed my eyes, bathing in the post orgasm euphoria, running my fingers through his hair. He didn’t stop kissing me as he moved up my body and rested a fraction of his weight against me. His hand was warm as he cupped my cheek and covered my mouth with his. I could taste us on his lips and tongue, his beard was soaked too. I was so turned on that after the flavour faded from his mouth, I swept my tongue over his chin.
“Fuck,” he groaned, “You taste good, don’t you?”
I hesitated, self-consciousness creeping in and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. Marshall stroked my cheek with his thumb and I opened my eyes and realised that he wasn’t trying to shame me.
“You taste good too,” I said.
He smiled, his lips parting just enough to see his teeth, before he grew a little serious. His hand curled around the back of knee, lifting and opening me again, and he adjusted his body in a way that made me gasp. Poised, and ready, his silky hardness waited, his brows raising just enough to ask the unspoken question.
“Yes,” I murmured.
His mouth was on mine as he slid inside me, our kiss muffling both our moans. We stayed like that, joined and locked together, hungrily swallowing the others whispered words and whimpers. Fingers sought mine, and lacing them together he squeezed, gripping me and releasing me in time with his steady rocking movements.
He knew what he was doing, making sure I could feel every inch of his thick and rigid length, making sure he found that spot that made my breath hitch every time. His breath was coming in harder and heavier, each exhale punctuated by a muted grunt. I couldn’t focus, I had to close my eyes. Fuck, he really knew what he was doing.
“Marshall,” I gasped. I don’t know why I spoke. I was riding close to the edge, any second now and I would fall.
“Yes,” he growled, “Fuck, yes.”
I fell.
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