#Mission Impossible Fallout fanfic

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Random thought:

You and August Walker sneaking out of a work party to get some time in his private office.

Zombie

Well, Zombie, I'll tell you what I think would happen...

Title: Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Warnings: (responsible) alcohol consumption, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

When the elevator dings and the doors open, he holds out an arm to let you enter first. As you step inside, you catch the eye of your coworker, who is making an obscene gesture with her hands. You can’t exactly blame her. You did just get into an elevator with the damn CEO of Walker Logistics LLC.

That’s right. You and August Walker are in an elevator on the way to his private office to speak more discreetly. 

A million different things went through your mind when he first asked you to step away to his office, and it showed on your face when you first stuttered through an excuse to stay at the party. 

“Tell you what, why don’t we just continue our conversation about your ideas over better booze than what they have down here? I’ll behave as long as you do,” he offers, his sonorous baritone washing over you like a warm bath.

It was more than easy to agree with him; he just had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.

As the elevator lifts, August leans against the left wall while you stand in the center. You try to maintain the silence that is only interrupted as the floor indicator dings every few seconds. The anxiety of feeling like you have to perform is strong, and you want to come up with something that he will find interesting.

But all you can come up with is, “You know, you can’t say happiness without saying penis.” 

August’s head whips to you so fast, you think his neck may have broken. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I spout useless trivia. It’s the worst superpower,” you admit, hoping he would let it go.

“Sex is ten times more effective than Valium. So, maybe we shouldn’t be so coy,” he hums, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand next to you when the elevator stops.

When the doors open, you are greeted with quite a sight. The entirety of the top floor is closed off by walls, except for his secretary’s desk, which sits just outside double doors. 

You are so surprised by the fact that you are in the CEO’s space that you just gawk at everything while staying in the elevator. It’s only when August stops the doors from closing on you that you close your mouth and follow him to the doors to his office.

Once they open, you’re greeted with a modern office space with two conference rooms around the left and right corners. His L-shaped desk sits in the center of the room, and the polished ebony wood stain reflects the lights of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back wall. A leather sofa and armchair set that seems rather inviting fills the carpeted area in front of the mini-bar. You spy the bookshelves that line the right and left walls and wonder to yourself if he’s even read half of them.

Walking around the desk, your feet carry you to the right bookcase. You read the titles of book after book about business and the economy. How fucking boring!

From his spot at the mini-bar, August gets your attention. “So, what would the lady like to drink while she snoops?”

“I’m not snooping. Just looking,” you advise, your fingers swiping the various spines as you walk toward him. “And I would love some bourbon if you have it. No ice.”

“I think I’ll join you,” he remarks, retrieving two lowball glasses and a decanter of the amber liquid. Pouring about two fingers into one glass and then the other. He takes both glasses and places them on the glass coffee table that sits between the sofa and the two comfy chairs. He picks up his drink and turns to you. “What shall we toast to?”

The anxiety running through you is replaced by lust as you join him on the couch, close enough to feel his body heat. Pheromones must be wafting in the air because he smells like sex on legs. You bend forward to pick up your bourbon, and the top of your dress reveals some cleavage. Out of the corner of your eye, you see August tilt his head as he sneaks a peek.

“To not being coy,” you insist, offering your raised glass.

August clinks his glass with yours and says, “To not being coy.”

You both take a sip and when you put your drink down after a sizable gulp, August mirrors you and sits back against the couch. You turn, and he is watching you with hungry eyes. Now or never, you think to yourself.

Leaning in, you kiss the smirk right off his face. His soft, pink lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you allow him entry and massage his tongue with yours as you move to his lap. His hands caress your thighs before sliding up your leg to land on your hips. You know what he is after, so you start to rock your hips and are awarded with a deep rumble of a groan from August.

With his hands grabbing onto your ass, you grow bold and swivel your hips once, then twice. As August bucks up into you, you whimper, and he breaks the kiss. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches up your dress and stops when his fingertips touch your panties.

“May I take these off?” he asks, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looks up at you.

“Fuck, yes,” you yelp, your desire becoming too much to handle.

With your permission, he pulls them down your legs as far as they will go with you kneeling in his lap. Positioning you to lay back on the couch, he removes them completely, then dives in between your legs with his hands wrapped around your thighs to hold you close. 

He kisses your inner thighs before focusing on your wet pussy. To say he must have been starving for you is an understatement. The way he licks from your hole to your swollen nub was just this side of overwhelming. Swirling his tongue around your pearl, he waits until you begin to buck your hips to take your clit into his mouth.

Your hands go to his hair, clutching his chestnut locks as he sucks your soul out of your body. You’re near tears when he slowly inserts a finger between your folds. You barely hold yourself together as he strokes your inner walls, paying attention to the inner bundle of nerves that drives you wild.

Inserting another finger, he picks up his speed while massaging your G-spot. Listening to your body, he knows that you are on the very edge. One wrong move, and he could ruin it completely. 

But, lucky for you, he knows what he is doing.

He lets your clit slip past his lips, changing his tactic. Flicking his tongue up and down on your bud while adding a third finger to stretch you out, he puts on a master class at foreplay. Within moments, the hold you have on your faculties is all but forgotten as you are brought to orgasm. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he continues to play with your sweet spot. The noise of your sopping hole echoes in the office.

“That’s it; let it go. Such a good girl for me. So fucking delicious, too,” he praises, talking you through it. “You sound so fucking sexy right now.”

When you come down from your high, August is right there to kiss away the tear that escapes your eye as he caresses you. Your entire body is afire with sensations. His hands on you feel feather-soft. Looking up into his face, you can’t help but bring him down to kiss him. The kiss starts slow, but as it continues, tongues and teeth make an appearance. He nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat. 

He breaks the kiss again to kiss and nip at your jaw and neck. You wrap a leg around his waist, shoving your hand between you to stroke him through his slacks. The groan from him at the contact radiates through you. You can tell he has a monster under those clothes, and you want it.

Echoing his politeness from earlier, you speak up, “May I?”

“Please,” he gushes, sitting on his heels to give you better access.

You unzip and unbutton him, reaching inside to take him out. You thank him silently for prepping you with three fingers, because damn. The uncut snake in his pants is heavy in your hands. While you want nothing more than to have it inside you, you would also love to gag on it. August’s hand under your chin lifts your face until your eyes meet.

“As much as I would love your pretty lips around me, I need to be inside you,” he implores, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “I promise you can choke on it later.”

You gasp as he removes your hand from his dick and pushes you slightly to lay back down. He throws your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with your core, before pushing in slowly. He takes his time, letting you get used to being so filled and allowing him to adapt to your tight heat.

Folding you into yourself, he retracts his hips and thrusts forward. You groan in unison. Pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, he slams back in, kissing your cervix with his cockhead. He picks up the speed, and you can hear how fucking wet you are. The sloshy slaps of flesh on flesh are enough to have you close to orgasm already.

The entire room smells like sex, and it is intoxicating. Your gasps and whines as he fucks you only spur him on to help you chase after your climax. Parting your legs, he grips your thighs, fucking into you harder and faster. The look of determination on his face has you reaching down to play with your sensitive clit.

He swats your hand away in favor of using his fingers to make you cum around him. It happens quicker than you planned, a testament to his expertise. He fucks you through your release, your overworked pussy leaving cream all over his cock. He slows down to a more intimate pace as you come back to yourself.

You tangle a hand in his messy curls and pull him down to kiss you. With your hand on his hip, you urge him to move again. He kisses you deeper as his hips pick up the pace fucking you. You swallow every grunt and grumble from his thrusts. When his lips part from yours, you see the want in his eyes. You know he’s close by the way his hips stutter and his dick twitches.

Tightening your legs around his waist, you push your heel into his ass, and he gets the hint. 

“You want my cum? Ugh, fuck, I’m so close. Shit! Argh, fuck,” he gasps, his cock spasming as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you with his face in your neck, and you rub his back while he comes down.

Once his softening length slips from you, he grunts and picks himself up to sit back on his heels. He watches as his cum leaks out of you and licks his lips. He gets up and tucks himself away before motioning for you to stay right where you are. He grabs a towel from the mini-bar, coming back to clean up his mess from between your legs. He tosses the towel on the coffee table and picks up his drink to take a sip.

“I wasn’t lying earlier, you know,” he discloses, moving to sit down when you pull yourself into a seated position.

“Huh?” you ask, wracking your brain to find out what he’s talking about.

“I still want to hear your ideas on how to expand our market reach. I mean, you don’t even work in our marketing department, and your ideas have my attention,” he praises, his voice sincere in tone.

“I do have a few ideas on how the company can grow,” you beam, happy to be noticed. “But I think I’d like to discuss that first thing on Monday. Right now, I’d rather enjoy this bourbon and spend time not talking about work. If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he affirms, sipping his drink before smiling at you. “I am actually looking forward to Monday for a change. But before then, would you let me take you to dinner? I promise there will be no work talk.”

You look into your glass, swirling the amber liquid while you think about it for all of three seconds. “I’ll let you take me to dinner on one condition,” you advise, a smirk playing on your lips.

“And what would that be?” he asks, his arm going to the back of the couch.

“You let me choke on it before tonight is over,” you flirt, holding in a giggle.

The way his eyes darken is a thing of beauty. He lowers his drink from his lips and says, “Fuck, where did that coy little thing go? I’m not complaining, by the way. I’ll make sure you get a taste; don’t you worry.” 

You suddenly feel very warm, and you can’t believe this man is real. You wonder how his words can make you want nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe. You put down your glass after downing the last bit in one go. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now, you think to yourself.

August puts down his glass and leans back. You crawl into his lap again, a knee on either side of his hips. Entwining a hand in his hair, you lean forward and capture his lips again. This time, the kiss is slow and sensual. Your tongue dances with his until your lips touch again. Nipping at his bottom lip elicits a whimper from him that is music to your ears.

His hands move to your ass, gripping the globes as if his life depended on it. When one hand leaves, you only miss it for a second before it lands back on your cheek with a slap. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.

He’s got you right where he wants you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: This story was super fun to write. I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

**Tag List**

@peyton-warren @deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @mrs-solo-walker @mollymal @princessaxoxo @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @toooldforobsessions @carrie80reads @mayloma @thezombieprostitute

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁If your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

[needmorereading]

Loved this! 😍😍👏👏

Eivør

Summary: August Walker wore many masks and had done horrible things but never in his life he imagined he would become someone’s father. 

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (though not really present)

Word count: 267

Warnings: None, though if you are ovulating, this might be dangerous.  

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: My PMS got me to write this a few nights ago, I am a bit insecure about it, but the lovely @the-soot-sprite​​ convinced me to post it. So here we are. I will tag you guys later, gotta go to a language lesson soon. Not beta’d; all mistakes are mine. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Title: Eivør

Continua a leggere

[sillyrabbit81]

Cold

Prompt: Slow & Romantic, Cock Warming from @florxdexcerezo (x) Thank you so much for sending the prompt in. Sorry its taken so long.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 600

Warnings: Smut, cock warming, p in v sex

Authors Note: I wrote this a few weeks ago, but wasn't feeling up to posting it. I'm still on semi-hiatus, going to be a couple of months more at least, but here is a thingy I did. Hope you like it. Thanks to @nashibirne for reading.

Edited by me, there will be errors

Dividers by me.

Masterlist

Celebration Masterlist

Your eyes fly open. A heady rush of adrenaline pumps through your veins as your hand slips under the pillow on the empty side of the bed and curls around cold steel. You keep your breath slow and even as if you're still asleep and listen carefully.

But you’re too late.

A firm hand covers yours and a heavy, hard body traps you beneath it.

“Don’t scream,” he says, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You loosen your grip on the pistol and allow the hand to take it away. In the dark, you hear the thunk of the gun being placed on the nightstand.

“You could knock,” you point out.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“And yet, here we are.”

The weight on top of you shifts and you think you can just make out a small smile on his moustached face. You reach for the lamp, but he stops you.

“Leave it off,” he says.

“August, please,” you whisper. Your hands cover his whiskered cheeks briefly before he shakes you off.

“Leave it.”

He stands. You vaguely see his outline as he removes his clothes. He’s moving stiffly, slowly and breathing in soft grunts and rough exhales.

“How badly are you hurt?” you ask.

“Nothing so bad that a good night's sleep won’t heal,” he says, dismissively. Sometimes it scares you how easily and smoothly he lies to you.

“Then why are you here?” you ask with a rueful laugh. “The last thing you ever do here is sleep.”

You see his shape pause. You stare at where you assume his eyes would be, he needs to know you aren’t stupid; that you know this thing between you won’t result in a ring on your finger or a pretty white dress.

The longer he stands there unmoving, the harder it is to keep looking into the darkness. What is he thinking? You open your mouth to ask, but close it with a small shake of your head. It's not like he’d be honest anyway.

He starts to undress again. You lay back in bed. Does it really matter if he’s here to fuck you or sleep next to you? You’ll give him what he wants, you always do. You can’t help yourself.

He slips into bed, curling himself around your naked form. His hands begin a long exploration along your hip to your ribs and back again while his face is buried into your neck. You can hear him draw rough, ragged breaths, his mouth is so close to your ear, his lips graze along its edge.

Driven by a primal instinct, you arch your back, lean against him and open your legs in an invitation that needs no explanation. He doesn’t hesitate and quickly you feel the smooth, warm head of his cock sliding over your folds, gathering your wetness before sinking deep inside.

By the same instinct, you begin to roll your hips, relishing the feel of his length as your pussy glides over him. But his hand clasps your hip and holds you still, your ass and back pressed firmly against his chest.

“When I’m gone, I dream of this,” August whispers, “of being inside you.”

“Then please move.”

“No,” he growls, “I need to be inside you. All night.”

You moan and he throbs deep within you. His nose presses into your hair, his arms wrap around your chest, holding you tighter and tighter until you think he’ll crush you. 

“You’re so warm,” he whispers as he softens his hold on you. “I need you to keep me warm. I’m so fucking cold without you.”

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Henry Cavill Masterlist

Here you will find all of my Henry Cavill works, arranged by character and type of work.

One-Shots

Forever And A Day - Explicit - Geralt x Black!OFC - Geralt and Lavinia share a passionate reunion.

Events

You're Mine | Geralt of Rivia + Female Reader + Daddy Kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

Series

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

Requests

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth - Explicit - Walter Marshall x Reader - You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Challenges

Fifteen Minutes - Explicit - Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC - What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

Headcanons

Hobbies

Events

A Little Fresh Air | Walter Marshall + Female Reader + Public Sex + “Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” + Smut (Sweet Treats Event 2024)

One-Shots

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe - Explicit - Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader - Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse - Explicit - Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader - A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Don’t Kill My Vibe - Explicit - Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader - You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Requests

Happy Birthday, Cupcake - General - Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader - Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Praise You - General - Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader - Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

One-Shots

What Are You Doing, StepBro? - Explicit - Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader - You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Requests

Doing Something Unholy - Explicit - Charles Brandon x Reader - This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Series

Scrapbook (finished) - Side characters include Walter Marshall, Evan Marshall, Syverson, and Gus March-Phillipps

One-Shots

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director’s Cut] {DARKER FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Series

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

One-Shots

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl - Explicit - Napoleon Solo x Reader - Napoleon wines and dines.

Series

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

One-Shots

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director’s Cut] {DARKER FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Treat Me Like A Slut - Explicit - August Walker x Reader - August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Requests

Executive Temptation - Explicit - CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader - You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

One-Shots

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind - Explicit - Sherlock Holmes x Reader - As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Requests

The Paganini Problem - Mature - Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader - Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Series

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

Challenges

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - Mature - Syverson x Reader - When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Requests

Shape-Up - Explicit - Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) - Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Drabbles

My Little Strawberry - Mature - Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) - A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Events

Say It Again | Captain Syverson + Female Reader + Phone Sex + “Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” + Smut (Sweet Treats Event 2024)

One-Shots

Nothing More Than An Animal - Explicit - Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader - After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Gus March-Phillips (The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

Henry!Wolvie AKA The Cavillrine (Deadpool & Wolverine)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

[changenameno]

Ready, set…oh? PART 2

(Complete, link to the first part down below ⬇️ )

 Summary:
August didn’t date. He really didn’t, mostly because he wasn’t interested in dating and because of his job. Unfortunately he also couldn’t get you out of his mind. The way you had approached him, your pretty face, simply everything about you, intrigued him…


Pairing: August Walker & Fem. Reader

Warnings: a lot of awkwardness and nervousness, cursing, mostly fluff

Word count: 1.2K
 

A/N: Well since a few people asked for a continuation, here we go. Really hope you’ll like it. Any mistakes are my own. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! Thank you and enjoy❤️✨


!Fallout: Mission Impossible and Agent August Walker are not my own creation!
 

 🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨


(In case you’ve missed PART 1)

 

PART 2

He was lying wide away in his bed, angrily staring at the ceiling.

Why? Why couldn’t he forget about you? What made you so special, that his mind kept replaying your encounter again and again? It had been two weeks. He should be over it by now.

 

 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a beautiful woman before. But you, well you were something else. He could feel it, there was so much more about you than just your looks, and for some reason he really wanted to find out what lay hidden beneath the dazzling surface that was your beauty.

 

 

So here he was contemplating, overthinking, suffering, within the stifling four walls of his bedroom.

 

The little piece of paper with your phone number on it, laying on his bedside table. Mocking him.

 

 

He still hadn’t called you. Why? He didn’t know. August furrowed his brows, frustration clear on his face. He’d had enough, so he hit the mattress with his fist, as if that’d stop his musings. But at least he was sure now, what he needed to do in the morning. He was not going to lose even more sleep over this, over you.

 

 

 

🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨

 

You yawned, patting barefooted over the cold tiles of your kitchen, to turn on your coffeemaker. It was still early for a Saturday, but your cat, Mr. Fluff, wanted - no demanded - to be fed. He’d basically screamed at you, to get up, which you had given in to, after an hour of his scratching at your door combined with more meows.

 

 

Very satisfied with himself, he was now lazing on your couch, purring innocently, as if he hadn’t been the reason you’d been awake since six o’clock. You shook your head at him, smiling though, he was too adorable to stay mad at anyway.

 

 

The beeping of your coffeemaker sounded, as the hot beverage poured into your mug. You grabbed it, making your way over to Mr. Fluff, plonking down next to him on the couch. His bright green eyes blinked up at you, then he gracefully got up and snuggled into your lap.

You began petting him, stroking his white fur underneath his chin, the way he liked it, immediately rewarding you with intensified purring. You chuckled softly, murmuring to yourself, “Well you’re lucky you’re cute, you know?”

 

 

Suddenly your phone rang, making you flinch at the loud noise. Mr. Fluff scrambled to get away from the offending, rectangular thing laying to your right. You sighed, a bit disappointed that he’d left your lap, but curious as to who’d call you at this hour. Briefly glancing at the number on your screen, you noted that you didn’t know the caller, but you answered anyway.

 

 

Stating your name and then, “Yeah, hello?”

 

“Ah fucking shit… no…um…sorry…I…fuck.”

 

 

The person on the other end sounded very surprised, stumbling over their words, continuously swearing. Voice deep and growly. You didn’t quite know what was happening that justified the string of curses leaving them, but it amused you somewhat.

 

 

Disrupting the swearing with your burning question, “Erm, alright, sorry, but who is this?”

 

 

You could hear an intake of breath and then,” Oh yeah. Um… I’m August Walker. I…no, you…you gave me your number.”

 

 

He sounded very unsure, the last sentence more of a question than anything. And you had to admit, you still had no idea who he was. When had you given someone named, August Walker your number?

 

 

“I’m very sorry, but I don’t know anyone named August Walker?”

 

 

He huffed, more than a little annoyed with himself, for behaving the way he was. August had been awake the entire night to formulate the perfect plan. He wanted to call you really early, to purposefully miss you and be able to leave a message on your voicemail. This way he could structure his sentences without sounding like a robotic arse or a complete moron.

 

 

Unfortunately his plan had backfired the moment he’d heard your sweet voice, greeting him. You’d picked up the phone. August had not thought about the possibility of you being awake this early, so his response was one of pure panic.

 

 

What was he supposed to say? He felt like he’d forgotten any and every word and sentence, he’d so carefully prepared beforehand. Tongue sticking to the roof of his suddenly very dry mouth, making it even harder to formulate a normal sentence.

 

 

“Erm, hello? You still there?”

 

 

Damn it. He had waited too long to answer, making him look even more like a fool.

Trying to calm his erratically beating heart, he exhaled, then finally thought of something to say, “Yeah, sorry I’m still on. And yeah technically you don’t know me, at least not by name. But you gave me your number, about two weeks ago?”

 

 

Not able to contain your own excitement you blabbed, “Oh my god, it’s you, isn’t it? From the café?”

The second you’d uttered those words, you wanted to slap yourself. You sounded as eager as a little puppy. Well to be fair you were eager. But there was no need for the insanely hot guy on the other line, to know that. Before you could continue to chide yourself, his deep chuckle interrupted, making something inside you tingle pleasantly.

 

 

“Yes that’s me.” He was relieved you remembered him and he’d noticed how chipper you sounded, making him more confident all of sudden, adding flirtatiously, “Mmh, was afraid, you’d forgotten all about me for a second there.”

 

 

Your face burned, heat crawling up your neck, at his light teasing. Now that you knew who you were speaking to, it was you, who was having trouble stringing sentences together, “Um… yeah sorry about that. But I… I certainly remember you.”

 

 

He loved how shy and timid you suddenly sounded, very cute, “No need to apologise, darling.”

 

 

Swallowing thickly, you leaned your forehead against your tucked up knees, needing all the physical support you could get. Had he just called you darling? Oh. Oh no. Just that simple pet name had you buzzing happily.

 

 

Chirping back, “O-Okay. Well it’s nice that you’ve called, August.”

 

 

“Going somewhere?”

 

 

“What…um, no? Why?”

 

 

“Just checking. I know it’s a bit spontaneous,” and definitely not what he’d initially planed, but he really needed to see you, “but I was wondering, if you wanted to grab a bite to eat? Go somewhere for breakfast? Maybe in about an hour, in the café we’ve met?”

 

 

His heart drummed away in his chest, desperately awaiting your answer. The longer your silence stretched, the more he doubted his suggestion, wanting to take it back, as he didn’t want to come off, as too forward.

Though your sweetest of replies, saved him from his painful, tentative musings.

 

 

“I’d love to.”

🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨

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[kyber-crystal]

learning to warm cold hands || ethan hunt

summary: after a particular mission, sunshine isn’t sunshine anymore, and it worries him. (aka a cliche angst to fluff fic with the following tropes: slightly sunshine and super sunshine, who did this to you, etc)

words: ~1.4k

warnings: angst, brief descriptions of violence, ethan being overly concerned for reader, but not much else asides from that 

a/n: first ethan fic (requested by a lovely anon, thank you!!) and second mission impossible fic! btw, this fic is kind of an AU? i don't have a specific timeline for when it happens, so you can squeeze it in wherever :)

“Y/N, status update?”

“Northwest exit, 430 meters. I have one on my tail. But you know I’m Usain Bolt 2.0! I can definitely outrun this doofus, I mean, I bet my mile time is way better than his. I could've gone to the Olympics, for God’s sake. The Olympics! Where are you?”

“Stay there, I’ll come find you.”

“Ethan, wait, you can't just tell me to—“ You don’t even get to finish before a an explosive sound echoes across the narrow alleyway. You make a sharp left turn but find that you’d just hit a dead end. The door was locked. Shit. You only had one bullet left and there was a guy who was definitely at least twice your weight—and over a foot taller, too—coming after you. You wouldn't even have enough time to reload.

“Y/N. Y/N—“

You don’t get to hear the rest of what he’s saying before the static fizzes out and you lose connection.

“Hey there!” You give the beefy man who’s now mere meters away from you a cheerful smile. “Lovely weather today, don’t you think? Too bad it’s going to rain tomorrow. I love the rain but I hate lightning, because I almost got struck a year ago.”

He doesn't look too happy at this, whipping his gun out without a moment’s hesitation. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray as you slide the bullet in and he pins you against the wall by your neck. 

He brings the gun to your head, and your weapon clatters to the ground. You curse under your breath. You can feel your airways constricting and there's a searing pain working its way through you. 

“You're not going anywhere, princess.”

There's a split-second; a microsecond in which he pauses. Very briefly. You don't think, just do—you knee him in the groin, hard, and quickly grab the knife that's sheathed in your boot. 

Saying one last prayer, you plunge the blade in, not even looking to see if you'd aimed right. He falls to the floor, stumbling, and you then lunge forward to disarm him. 

Another deafening gunshot rings out just as Ethan rounds the corner and finds you there, standing over the man’s dead body like the angel of death. A pool of blood surrounds your feet, and he doesn't think he wants to know if that's yours or his. 

“You made it out alive. Good job out there.”

Glancing over at him, you nod, but don't say anything. You toss him the data files without another word, and board the plane. 

“I'm proud of you.”

More strained silence. Huh, weird… he thinks. 

“Y/N, are you alright?”

No response. Ethan repeats himself again, “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

You strap yourself into your seat and tilt your head back, digging your nails into your wrist. Anything was better than being awake right now…

“Well, someone's uncharacteristically quiet.”

Still no response. Not even a snarky quip like you'd typically reply with. No nicknames, no bickering, no random fun fact you googled on the way over here. “Did you know that a pig can digest an entire human body, bones and all? That makes me think a little extra every time we pass through the European countryside and see one of them.” 

All he gets is silence from your end, and it starts to worry him. 

That’s when he follows your gaze downwards. You're clutching the left side of your abdomen, trying your best not to make a sound. 

His blood runs cold and his eyes darken. You can feel the pure rage radiating off him. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No…shit…Sherlock…” you croak out. 

“You're hurt.”

No response again. 

“Y/N, what the hell happened out there and who did this to you?”

More silence. 

“Y/N, what did he do to you? How did he hurt you?”

After several more questions and several more failed replies, he forcefully moves your hand aside. Your shirt is stained a deep red and there's a gaping hole much bigger than Ethan wanted to see. 

“You got shot.” He sighs. “Luther, how much longer?”

“Hour and five, but we can get there in 38.”

“Hurry.”

“On it.”

Ilsa brings him a thick roll of bandages. He tries to be as careful as possible as he disinfects and wraps up your torso, but every so often, you wince in pain. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, just a few more minutes,” Ethan hurriedly apologizes. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

Once he's done, he sits down next to you and laces your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. You let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against him. 

He pretends not to notice your watering eyes, or the crescent-shaped marks in your wrist. Or the way your left foot nervously taps out the rhythm to yours and his favorite song. Or the way your tears leave faint red tracks behind as they slip down your cheeks. 

“I'm so sorry,” he repeats over and over again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don't sleep a wink that night. On any other day in Paris, you'd walk down to the farmer’s market below. You’d pick out Ethan’s favorite fruit and a new beret to have him wear jokingly, and maybe grab a croissant or two. Then you’d drag him along to the Louvre and point out each painting one by one and explain in great detail why you loved them so much. And he’d listen, because he could live purely off the sound of your voice for the rest of his life. He was never one for museums, but you loved them, and because he loved you, he started to love them, too.

But it's dark out, and after what had just happened the other day, you don't feel safe enough to leave the apartment. You tossed and turned for over half an hour before falling asleep, but jolted awake just a few minutes later, shivering violently. There was no way you were going to try and go to sleep again.  

Ethan stirs awake, rubbing his eyes to see a dark figure slipping out the door. 

He's quick to follow you up the staircase and to the rooftop. You're standing there in just a T-shirt (was that his?) and shorts, and it's freezing cold out, but you're sweating and fanning yourself. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around at the sound of his voice. “Ethan…”

“What are you doing up here? I was worried about you.” He makes his way over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, obvious concern on his face. 

You bit your lip and started digging your nails into your wrist again. 

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong.” 

You shook your head, feeling the skin of your wrist beginning to sting. 

“Y/N, please. I want to help you. But I can’t do that when you won't talk to me, so please…tell me what’s going on.” 

“I’m so tired, Ethan,” you finally spoke after a long pause, voice hoarse. “I should’ve—I shouldn’t be here right now, I should be dead because I panicked and I…I almost died. The man, he put the gun to my head and I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I could’ve sworn to God that the whole ‘thing’ about you seeing your life flash by like a film reel was just a myth but it wasn’t. It scared the shit out of me because I kept seeing the same thing over and over. I thought…”

“What did you see?” he asked, voice gentle. 

“I kept seeing your face. All I saw was your face.” You looked away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I know I care about the whole damn team, but you—you’re my future, Ethan.”

He doesn’t say anything in response and instead, leans down to kiss you.

The sudden rush of warmth from his lips being pressed against yours makes you want to forget everything in the world and completely drown in him. This was home, you realized, and this is where I’m supposed to be.

And as the sun rises and spreads a brilliant pale glow over the horizon, Ethan can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was also exactly where he was meant to be. Not fighting bad guys, but rather, standing on the rooftop of a tiny building in the 4th arrondissement with you in his arms and your head against his heart. He thinks he could have a lifetime of this.

“You’re my future, too.”

tags (including those who may be interested! add yourself via this form, if you’d like): @mitchellpete @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @the-multiverse-of-fandoms @ilsastrenchcoat @joyfullyswimmingface​ 

[yanandreckless]

Spicy Alphabet: August Walker

Author's note: I am currently watching (almost) everything Henry Cavill has been in during his career and so since I love doing these alphabets and consider them almost character studies, I'll do these for several of his boys :3 (it'll be a while before I have time for Geralt and Charlie, though) but August ended up being the first :3 Feel free to comment and tell me who you wanna see next! A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) While he will not outright ask for it, August wants validation. Does he want to know he did a good job? Sure, but he would prefer to know he did the best job. And while utilitarian parts of aftercare like cleaning up, changing the sheets, rehydrating, or taking care of marks are things he would do without much fuss or prompting, in an efficient and almost detached way, don’t be fooled by his calculated movements and his stone face. He needs aftercare too. He needs to be acknowledged and appreciated. He wishes he got cuddled, too. He will refuse it all, and very bitterly too, if he perceives it as mocking, so be careful. Basically, stroke his ego without patronizing him. Over time, he will lower his walls a bit. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) While he was wet behind the ears at the Agency, August was self-assured and cocky that he was All That: tall, muscular, and with that handsome face! He soon realized it was actually a drawback for intelligence work. He is so handsome that he is extremely memorable, which is horrible for a spy, obviously. His career path had to change and adjust due to this and he perceives it as something that is holding him back. It also especially fuels his disdain and hatred for IMF and their super masks. He views it as cheating almost. Since he values his own hard work so much, he’s most proud of his muscles, especially his abdomen and thighs. On a partner, while he can’t help but respect strength and power, he’s mostly drawn to fragility. Wrists so thin he can capture them both in one hand, a swing so weak it can’t even turn his head, a stature so small that they simply have to rely on him for protection. Also small tits. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) A disgusting territorial animal, this one. He loves it when he can smear it all over a chest or even a face, and he also loves it when he can cum deep, deep inside, getting off on the fact that he just can do that, especially if he’s the first/only one to do it to the person. It goes both ways, he loves the messy juices of his partner all over him. He’ll happily feed you his cum from his fingers, he’ll happily let you sit on his face and drink all you have, he’ll be happy as a clam if you squirt, and he’ll happily indulge in messy snowballing. He might even tolerate laughter over how messy his mustache looks afterward, or he might spank you for it. Either way, good times will be had. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He really, really, really craves all that validation and praise in an environment where he’s free to bask in it and not defensive over loving it. He wants to be vulnerable but safe. It’s not even related to specific activities when he imagines himself being pampered, it’s mostly just a person of much smaller stature, weaker than him in every way, having as much power over him as he can handle, and then a bit more. Good luck getting him to admit it, though, even if he behaves in ways that make it painfully obvious at times. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Experienced. Knows what he’s doing well enough, but may fall victim to believing he knows better than his partner. Very likely to utter the phrase “trust me, you’re gonna love this” with varying degrees of success. He’s fairly cocky but since he loves doing a great job so much, he’ll pick up on what works and focus on that. If, however, a suggestion of his was met with reluctance only for his partner to actually do love it once they try, it will result in merciless, endless teasing over it for a while. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Any position where he feels like he’s powerfully steamrolling or bulldozing his way through it. Holding his partner in the air (without a wall to help, thank you very much!), bending his partner in half so mating press or full nelson isn’t off the table at all, having a flexible partner he can contort in all sorts of positions for his pleasure, any face down/ass up exaggerated variant of doggy… although he will be surprisingly pliant if his partner really insists on flipping them over and riding him. If they’re good at it, expect a wide-eyed and slightly stunned August. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.) Usually more serious, sometimes bordering on grim/violent. But he can be more lighthearted, especially if there’s an opportunity to tease. This man loves getting on people’s nerves, so if his partner moans “Oh God”, you can expect a “Name’s Walker, by the way.” thrown back. (or whatever name his current mission had him assume, you get the jist)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) The carpet matches the drapes, he’s a dark brunette for real, and he’s not overly meticulously groomed, as can almost be concluded just by seeing that permanent messy stubble next to an obviously longer stache. He trims parts, shaves other parts, and then the shaved parts may grow into annoying stubble before he shaves them again. Get on his case about this, get spanked. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect) He conceals his desire for genuine intimacy as kink. He’ll grab the back of his partner’s neck and insist on constant eye contact and hope it just appears dominant and not needy. He’ll kiss a lot, he’ll insist on as many body parts touching as possible, he’ll hold tight and grab, bite and suck and pinch, all in clumsy craving for closeness. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Methodical about it most of the time, he’ll do it to take the edge off when needed and he won’t drag it out. Unless he’s got a specific flame to think about. He’ll delight in planning devious scenarios for them then. But even so, he’s not exactly the most patient so he’ll still not drag it out too too much. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Size and strength difference in his favor for sure. Marks. Being rough. Being absolutely filthy and messy. But also, perhaps surprisingly, feisty partners. He loves being defied and challenged, he loves brats because fucking them dumb feels sweeter. And if he loves something above everything, it’s hearing them apologize and beg when they realize the mess they’d gotten themselves into.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) He doesn’t care, it could be anyone’s bed, a bathroom, a hallway, a park, a dressing room, an elevator… As long as it doesn’t endanger a mission, he couldn’t care less. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) While he really loves obedience and being looked at like he hung the moon, he loves it even more if it’s hidden behind feisty brattiness. Challenging his authority gets him going but it makes him rough, so play wisely. He loves proving that he’s needed to someone who tries to tell them they’re independent and capable and strong. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Share. He hates sharing anything with anyone he deems competition, be it credit, work, space, resources, or people. So don’t even joke about it because unlike riling him up in a fun way, this will rile him up genuinely because it hits him right in his biggest insecurity of not being good enough. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He prefers giving, especially right after or right before he receives because he can then prove how scrambled he made the other person. It’s almost like he competes even with his partner from time to time. Means he’s low on praise reserves. Help him. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Almost always fast and rough. If you’ve been a good baby, he’ll heed your warnings of something hurting and slow down but if you’ve been riling him up like a fucking brat, he’ll tell you to shut up and take it and he won’t stop even if you cry. He’ll gag or spank/slap you if you keep whining. And if you’ve been especially horribly bad, he’ll try to get you to zone out or even pass out from overstimulation. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Loves them. A lot. He’ll initiate them when they appear the most dangerous, when the mood strikes, or when you guys don’t have time, or when you think he won’t do it this time… the list goes on, but he loves them almost as much as he loves having all night or day to do as he pleases.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) Very game to experiment. He’ll initiate quickies in public places and delight in your terror at being heard or seen, and in your embarrassment if you’d been right. Personally, he’d be down for having an outright audience, he’d love it if everyone was able to see how well he’s scrambling your brain with his cock. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) He prefers going multiple rounds to lasting super long on one round. Again, he’s not the most patient of men but also he does love making a huge mess. Fucking his cum back into you just to add another load is among his favorite things. 

T = Toys (do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?) He can turn almost anything into bondage equipment on the fly so he doesn’t really own a wide array of, say, ropes or cuffs or chains. Likewise, plenty of things can become impact play toys. He loves being creative. He does have some equipment, among which is a knife he uses only for playtime, and if you’re especially scared of it and adamant about never having anything to do with it, he will still talk about it and tease you with the idea of it and with how much of a scaredycat little baby you are. For more conventional toys, he’d be open to using vibrators on you but he’d always make sure you know nothing can compete with the feeling of him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He’s somewhere in the middle. He’s not patient enough for huge rounds of teasing but he does love to get on your nerves and drive you mad and not even being good and obedient will save you from this if he’s in the mood for it. He’s not the fairest of Doms by any means. The best way to put yourself out of this misery is to cry and beg, but if he sees through you on it not being fully genuine desperation… gods help you. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) A growler and grunter. Can be completely silent if he puts his mind to it, but prefers not to be. He loves having his mouth close to his ear so you can hear all his pants and grunts and growls and filthy things spewed through clenched teeth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He actually loves a bit of teeth during blowjobs. Scrape them along his length, nip him a bit. He’ll delight in the simple thrill of it and he’ll enjoy threatening you into being good. He’s also a disgusting, territorial animal, so he may use this as a segway into some watersports. Or just get into watersports anyway. As long as you don’t safeword and as long as you didn’t explicitly state a hard limit, he doesn’t see the reason to hold back. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) No Henry Cavill character will be small because that’s just the law. Unquestionable. I am not taking questions. Big, thick, cut, veiny. Adores it if his partner can’t close their fingers around him. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Very high but in his mind, a lot of the time, it starts as a desire for a lot of bickering, tumbling, butting heads, wrestling… just sexy conflict. And then that riles him up and bets are off from that point. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward) Depends. Is he working? Does he trust you’re harmless? Is he hurt/too exhausted? Did he get all the nervous energy out of his system? Is he… gods forbid… in love with you? So it varies from immediately to never. 

[kitkat27]

Two Lines

Ilsa discovers life changing information but dealing with Lane again will have to come first …

Posted on ao3 - kit_kat_27

Thank you sooooo much to @justabigassnerd for putting up with me for the last couple of months while I’ve been writing. Couldn’t have done it without your support!

It will becoming a series hopefully (comment if you want on the taglist)

Please let me know what you guys think. I’ve not done a lot of romance and haven’t written for about 2 yrs so I’m a bit rusty. This is my first fic in this fandom, it’s one of the longest I’ve written and one of my first fight scenes. Ignore grammar and spelling mistakes. This will be posted on ao3 too !

Two lines. Two definite pink lines. Two lines blink back at her confirming her suspicions. Two lines that will now change her life from this exact moment.

Two lines that couldn't be erased. Lines that confirm her body was right. All the signs that she had been dodging confirmed her fears.

Fingers grazed against her abdomen, as if her fingers were scared if they lingered too long it would confirm her fears.

This had been at the bottom of her list, hell after being with the syndicate for two years it had been erased from it. And for finding out, a derelict safe house in rural Denmark was not the scenario she had thought of many years ago.

She had snagged the test the other week and let it burn a hole in her bag until she was going to pop under the pressure.

She'd finally given in to the pressure at the safehouse with the safety of knowing the boys wouldn't be back for another couple of hours.

But now she wasn’t sure what to do, sitting in the bathroom staring at the two pink lines. For once in her life she didn't have the next step already planned. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there as the sounds of the boys inthe driveway indicated their return.

Not wanting Ethan to find out yet, she needed to wrap her brain around it first, she shoved the test down into the depths of her bag where she hoped it would stay hidden until she was ready to tell.

‐—--------------‐—-----------------

Solomon Lane was a name that kept appearing, though all four wished it didn't. Every time they thought they were done he would reappear.

And so they were, here again, staring at the computer each wishing that if the computer was closed and reopened it would be gone, and they could go back to chilling in their safe house.

But alas, they did. Brandt, who now made secretary, had sent them an email after word had gotten out that Lane had escaped Alana's grip and had not been handed over to MI6.

Nobody knew if either Alanna or the Mi6 had played a part in his escape. You can only trust a broker so much, Alanna would always think of herself no matter what she had promised.

But the wind was that he had escaped to Europe where some of his still, somehow, loyal followers remained. The organization was heading to a remote village in Kashmir threatening to release a nuclear bomb that would starve a third of the world's population.

Brandt was warning them to take these hints about Lane with a pinch of salt as it wasn't said who had given them this information and to approach the entire case with caution.

She was going to have to put telling Ethan, he would end the mission before it even started if she told him now the news on the back burner for now. If Lane found out they were carrying new information he wouldn't stop till he found.

————————————-

They split up once they reached the camp, Lane would stand out like a sore thumb in the remote village.

Ethan and Luther took to the nearby medical camp, leaving Benji and Ilsa to tackle the village. Ethan and Ilsa didn’t want to split, they worked better together but Lane would be wanting them to be together.

Once they reached the village, they split again to cover more ground while keeping each other in sight. Well, it was more Ilsa keeping an eye on Benji as she was concerned about Benji running into Lane alone again.

She knew he’d passed field tests and could hold his own, but he didn’t have the same skills or experience. She and Ethan had an unspoken agreement that they’d always put themselves in the firing line before Luther and Benji.

Making her way around the village, she did her best to stay under the radar. Lane had predicated all their movements but she had wanted to at least try to be in front. Out of the main village, on the outskirts, a lone house stood. Void of any women or children hanging outside, drawing her to it.

‘Benji, I may have a lead, stay close by and on comms. We'll draw attention if we both go ‘

Her fellow brit already began to panic at her evading the laid out plan, ‘‘Ilsa, you know what etha-’

‘Stay close by, I need to do this’ and with that, she blocked out the following Benji ramble.

Nothing on the outside balcony gave any clues to Lane. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, she could hear Benji arguing in her ear and threatening to switch on Ethan’s earpiece knowing he would stop this.

But she wanted to, no she needed to take on Lane herself.

She needed to find some form of closure from the years she worked in the syndicate, and the pain and torture he put her friends through.

Some closure for the nights she woke up screaming. All the years by herself, all the years alone, he needed to repay.

She made her way into the house. with each step she took her mind was on overdrive, her eyes darting back and forth making sure her six was covered.

Training would tell her that walking through an open door is a trap. Sweeping the first room, there was nothing in the house that wasn't covered in dust or had seen better days.

A blur of movement occurred in her peripheral vision of a figure moving to another room. Mentally apologizing to Ethan and the boys she followed.

The room was the same as the last a movement attracting her to a darkened section of the room causing her to turn aro-

A blinding pain across the back of her skull turned her vision white.

With the back of her head throbbing leaving her frozen, another blow to her lower back dropped her to the ground, the world turning black.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Ilsa, Ilsa. I know you can hear me. I'm a second away from calling Ethan’. This wasn't a good idea.

‘Ilsa you better respond’

Why couldn't Luther have gone with Ilsa, she listened to him the most. Luther was the only one who sometimes could reign her in these situations.

Ilsa’s tracker showed her around the edge of the village, where Lane would want her. He would know she would split from the group and that she would tackle him alone. Pulling out his phone he sent a message to Luther, warning of his worries without alerting Ethan.

He readied his gun as he spotted the lonely house in front of him. Why could the bad guys never be sitting in a coffee shop ready to hand themselves over after grabbing a latte?

Silence. The house was empty. 2 spies would be quiet but shouldn’t be completely silent.

Sweeping all the rooms in the house, the worry grew with every increasing minute he spent with no sign of Ilsa or Lane.

‘ Ilsa, Ilsa are you i-’, blood.

Blood. Ilsa’s gun.

Blood, a lot of blood for a spy who was the best of the best.

‘ Benji, where are you?’, shit Ethan.

‘ The house at the end of the village, Ilsa spotted Lane here and went after him. She’s-’, doing this over comms would be easier than face to face, ‘she’s not here Ethan. Lane has her, she's injured’

Ethan never panicked but he’d never had someone like Ilsa in his life before.

The one warning he had given to the team was to not take Lane on alone, especially Ilsa. She had failed tests towards the end of her undercover stint. She wouldn't be lucky the next time she ran into Lane alone.

Lane and Ilsa were stubborn and hot-headed, with an intense hatred for each other, what would happen when the two were reunited Ethan didn't want to know.

In the safe house in Denmark she had acted a little off, an unknown fear had flickered across her face when their time off in Denmark was being cut short.

Benji was waiting for them on the porch of the house, panic written over his face. He didn't waste time looking in the house, no point subjecting his heart to what she had gone through.

Circling the house there was almost nothing to go on until he came across faint footsteps leading away from the home to some soft tire tracks in the distance.

There were only 2 sets of prints, both too big for Ilsa. Lane had a plan in mind for another location. She would be no match for him unconscious and drugged. Luther and Benji hung back letting him decide on what to do next.

The tracks led deep into the mountains. Wasting no time in telling the other two what or where he was going, he began sprinting back to where they had left the car at the medical camp,

‘I’ll get you two as I come past’

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

A pounding pain pulsed at the back of her head. The first effort in opening her eyes sent a shockwave of pain around her skull. The second she managed to open them she noticed a figure sitting in front of her.

‘Nice of you to finally join me’. The figure chuckled, ‘It took a large amount of drugs to keep you knocked out. I trained you well.’

Lane.

A haggard version of the man she spent 2 years doing every bidding.

‘We’re owed a reunion and a rematch don't we, my dear Ilsa’. He took her face in his hands his callused hands tightening around her jaw, smirking she was putty in his hands.

‘You're not speaking my dear? I thought you'd have plenty to say to me’.

Heading towards the open door he turned at the doorway, ‘I'm gonna give you time to think until that pretty boyfriend of yours figures out where we are. Then I’ll be a man and kill you myself.’

Taking notice of her current predicament, she noted her ankles and wrists were bound tight, sores already forming.

As she was deciding on whether to dislocate her thumb, her wrist snagged on a sharp edge on the back of the chair. All the spy movies loved this cliché and for once she was glad it was happening.

She had to work fast, not knowing when Lane would come back into the hut. Her wrists released themselves from their binding, she immediately worked on releasing her legs fingernails beginning to bleed at the frantic speed at which she was working.

Click.

A loaded gun. The cold metal was placed against her forehead ‘My sweet Ilsa, I always am shown why Atlee chose you. You never disappoint’

Glancing upwards, she met Lane's eyes his gaze cold but joyful. He loved getting a rise out of those who crossed him.

‘I'm glad’

Neither of them moved both poised, when all of a sudden it was like a bullet had been fired and the fight began.

Drawing a knife from her boot, she lunged for Lane whilst grabbing his gun with the other hand. Knocking him backwards from the force of her attack, the gun falling from his grasp.

Swiping her blade aiming for his throat but taking any damage that would occur. The surprise of her attack quickly wore off, Lane began to block her attempts with his own.

A fist collided with her cheek and knocked her back a step. Another landing on her ribs sent an alarming crunch throughout the room.

She folded in on herself, exaggerating her pain from the broken ribs, waiting until he was close enough till she could grab a hold of his arm and use his momentum to flip him over her back.

Before Lane had a chance to react she threw herself on top of him wrapping her hands around his throat and applying all the pressure she could.

He scrambled underneath, fear in his eyes at the strength of her attack, attempting to rip her hands off him. She was squeezing with all her might but her power was in using her thighs to choke. Lane knew her inside and out she didn't want to be too predictable.

She was about to change tactics when a hand in her hair dragged her backwards with such force throwing her against the wall of the hut.

Not taking any time to find out who had joined, she kicked out at her attacker's legs. Swiping their feet, toppling them onto a winded Lane giving her the chance to run for it out the open door.

She had no plan but to run as far away as she could, Ethan was bound to be looking for her now. How far she would get she didn’t know, the pounding in her head was beginning to grow and the broken ribs were stealing her ability to breathe.

The sound of a twig snapping alerted her to someone coming up behind her, the drugs were making it harder and harder for her to react. Her body was now just running on pure fear to keep herself alive long enough for Ethan to find her.

Her new companion spun her around, her arms subconsciously wrapped themselves around her stomach, revealing their identity.

‘Trevligt att se dig igen. Du kommer inte bli lika lätt den här gången’.

Viktor. The bone doctor.

He had a talent for evading death. She wanted to either run or fight back but her limbs had suddenly become heavy. All she could do was watch Viktor as he got a firm grip on her arm and he plunged her own knife deep into her shoulder.

‘Karma är en jävel, eller hur? det gör väl ont ?’

All she could do was keep her body upright as he smirked at the blood pooling on her shoulder and grabbed the handle twisting the blade deeper. Blinding pain took over her body as she felt the blade twist deeper, she was not sure how much longer she could hold on.

‘ILSA !!!’, when did Ethan get here? She could barely see his figure moving towards her as her vision began to swim and her body felt like a lead weight as she fell to the ground protecting her stomach.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Pulling up over the top of the mountain, chaos and horror awaited him. Ilsa writhed in the grip of Viktor, his vicelike grip being the only thing that was keeping her upright. She wasnt fighting back, her arms hung loosely at her sides, there was no recognition of her knowing he was there her eyes glassy and unfocused.

The powerful, badass spy he normally knew was not the one he was currently running towards. A breath hair away from reaching Ilsa, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she dropped to the ground her body curling in on itself. Viktor let go as if she was a discarded ragdoll he no longer wanted to torture.

Resisting running to her side immediately, he focused on Viktor. He wasnt going to let him off lightly this time. He was going to make sure he was dead this time, and let one shot from his gun hit the centre of Viktor's heart dropping the swede instantly.

He didn't want to fight the man, it wasnt worth the risk of getting injured fighting a man double his height. Somehow Lane had slipped away again. Hopefully, for good, Ilsa was on the brink of death and he’d mentally manipulated Ethan, all everything he set out to achieve

The helicopter blades could be heard coming over the mountain top, Benji had mentioned as they drove that Julia was working at the medical camp, he must have sent a call for help as they reached the scene.

He wasn't gonna let go of Ilsa until they pried her out of his hands. Her body felt like glass in his hands, the blood flowing out of the knife wound wasn’t slowing her face getting paler as the seconds went on.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking at Ilsa’s results, something was wrong. Ilsa was above peak physical condition, nothing should show up abnormal. All standard tests, which included a pregnancy test for any female regardless, had been run and she should pass all.

Shit.

Her hCG levels were elevated.

Ilsa was pregnant. Ilsa was expecting Ethan's baby.

She was 3 months pregnant. This would explain why Ilsa's body fought them when she was brought in, her body was protecting the baby.

Grabbing the abdominal ultrasound she wondered if Ethan knew. Ilsa had broken down her walls around him but was this a wall that either had discussed? Ethan hadn’t mentioned anything when they rescued Ilsa and neither of the boys had shown signs of knowing.

Running the ultrasound over Ilsa’s stomach the relieving sound of the baby's heartbeat filled the small tent. Well, she hoped it was relieving, hell did Ilsa know herself?

She suspected she did from the Brit cradling her stomach as she drifted in and out of consciousness during the flight. The heartbeat was steady, the baby was safe and healthy which was lucky considering what Ilsa had been through in the last 24 hours.

The radio attached to her hip crackled to life announcing the helicopter making its way back with the rest of the team. They had to leave them behind to make room for them to work on Ilsa. Luther had to hold onto a struggling Ethan, who had fought with all his might to come with them.

She had about 5 minutes before they would get back to the tent, giving her enough time to pack any baby-related items away. She figured Ilsa needed to be the one to tell Ethan herself.

As she was busying herself with tidying, the heart rate of the British agent signalled she was beginning to ruse. Eyes flickered open to meet hers, pain whimpers followed as she came to.

With a hand on her none injured shoulder, she spoke softly ‘Ilsa, hey it's ok. It's Julia, you're in the med camp. You're injured from the kidnapping and fight, Ethan and the team are safe and are on their way.’

Once the meaning of her words sunk in, Ilsa began to calm. ‘ I, I…’

‘Don't push yourself, save your voice for Ethan’, striking blue eyes travelled along the spy’s own body taking note of the injuries and finally landing on her stomach.

Knowing the question she was thinking, she answered for her,

‘The baby is fine. You're about 12 weeks, I’ve not put it in your notes and told the team to not tell the others-’ Ilsa then met her eyes ‘- I figured you'd want to tell them’.

Hearing the helicopter land in the distance, she put the last piece of equipment away before turning back to Ilsa.

‘Whatever you decide to do, I'm here. Whatever is running through your head, ignore it, Ethan will be happy whatever you decide. He loves you and will support you through every step.’

Ilsa spoke for the first time since waking ‘Than- thank you, Julia. I want Ethan’

Returning the smile, she placed a gentle kiss on her friend's hairline ‘He’s arriving at the camp now, he’ll be here any minute’ before making her way out of the tent.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The helicopter hadn’t even turned its blades off before he was barreling out of it tearing along the path to the med tent.

Finding the main tent he bumped into Eric who was making his way out, grasping his arm as he passed ‘ It was touch and go, we did lose her once but she's ok. She’s asking for you.

She seemed at peace lying on the small hospital bed, monitors surrounding her, a rhythmic beeping sound. The sound reaffirms Eric's words, but he needed to see for himself.

A black eye and a bandage going from her eyebrow to the hairline adorned the left side of her face. A blanket was drawn up to mid chest leaving her shoulders bare showing the thick bandaging adorning where the knife had been mere hours ago.

Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn't sleeping, she wouldn't until they were back in a safehouse. Reaching her side, he resisted reaching out; he didn't know what had happened between her and Lane.

As if she could read his mind, ‘It's ok, Ethan. I need you please’.

Avoiding the painful side of her face, he cupped her cheek in his hand and placed a gentle kiss on her lips which she faintly reciprocated.

His lips rested on hers as he placed his forehead tenderly against hers. Neither spoke for a while both basking in each other's touch.

The warmth of her skin under his, reminded him she was here. She was back with him. The warmth reminded him how close he had been to losing her up on the mountains.

Blue eyes met his, saying all the words she needed to say to put his mind at rest. That she was back with him and not to beat himself up.

Though the comfort in her eyes turned to concern, ‘Ethan, I. There’s something. I have something I need to tell you ’. There was an intense look on her face as if her thoughts were fighting with each other

He wasn’t sure what was happening. Since getting together both of them had worked together on communication with each other, good or bad.

Ilsa gazed off into the distance seemingly afraid to meet his eye contact. ‘ I was going to tell you back in Denmark but I didn’t want you knowing and risking Lane knowing too. I just need to know that whatever happens, you’ll stay here. Please don’t run as I’m just as scared as you.’

He kept quiet, instead reaching out to hold her hands stilling them from the anxiously fidgeting.

‘I. Ive been noticing symptoms for the last few weeks that i was putting down to the back to back missions, hoping that avoidingg them would make them go away. Ethan. Ive been late for the last few weeks. Ive been tired, hungry and nauseated all the time’, she finally looked back at him letting the words sink in.

He couldnt believe what she was telling him. His mind was numb, he had never thought about this step in his life. Neither of them had so it was inevitable the way they messed around.

The fear of his reaction was scaring her,‘Ethan please say something’.

He seemed lost in his head before that classic Ethan smile adorned his face ‘You’re… pregnant ? We’re having a baby ?’. He seemed to start vibrating with excitement as she guided his hand to rest on her stomach.

"We're having a baby Ethan. We’re becoming parents’

His other hand came to rest under her chin tilting her face towards him, keeping his other resting on her nonexistent bump ‘ I love you. I love you. Whatever you decide to do next I will support you every step of the way. I never thought I’d become a father, but I am so excited to take this path with you’

The emotions were too much to answer him so she pulled him to bring his lips to hers communcting her feelings to him. She was scared of what was to come in the coming months as she stepped into the world of motherhood but she knew that Ethan would be by her side every step of the way.

Swedish translation- nice to see you again. You won't be getting off as easy this time

“Karma is a bitch, isn't it. That hurts, doesn't it?

@radical-sky @izzypuppybutt @justabigassnerd

[poledancingdinos]

Good Girls Get Rewarded

Pairing: August Walker (1st person POV) X OFC

Word Count: 1238 words

Warnings: Stripper OFC, Smut, Oral (M receiving), Creampie, Hickeys, D/S dynamics

Taglist : @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958

A/N: Just a quick little piece of pure filth

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

The moment we crossed the threshold, our clothes started to come off. Her long coat was thrown over the back of the couch, along with my suit jacket, and my shirt was left somewhere down the hall. She managed to take it off me while I carried her through the house, using her ever impressive core strength to hold herself up without the help of her hands. It’s lucky she picked a dress with a slit in the skirt otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to wrap her legs around my waist.

When I set her down in the bedroom, my little kitten plants both hands on my shoulders and gives a sharp push. She’s far from having the strength required to move me if I don’t want to be moved but I’m not opposed to seeing what devilish desires she’s cooked up in her pretty little head. I let myself fall back onto the mattress, pulling both arms behind my head and unashamedly flexing my biceps as her gaze roams over my bare chest.

She is practically licking her lips as she pulls her dress over her head and tosses it aside. It’s my turn to look over her form, an appreciative groan unintentionally sounding from my chest. She looks damned good in her matching black lace bra and panties and she knows as much.

She plants a knee on the bed and straddles my waist. My hands immediately find her thighs, pulling them apart and forcing her hips lower. I never lift my hands from her body as we kiss, groping her ass then moving up her back to unhook her bra.

My lips are on her breasts the moment the flimsy fabric disappears. I have every intention to paint her skin with love bites and make sure that anyone who lays eyes on her tomorrow knows that she is owned by another man. I am the luckiest fucker in the world and I am not above admitting it. Though I know she wants to be mine as much as I want her to be, the jealous, possessive beast inside demands I stake my claim. It’s a good thing she likes it.

Two small hands wrap around my wrists, pinning my hands above his head. 

“I was good.”

I smirk. It’s a statement not a question. She knows she was on her best behaviour tonight which is why I’ve been indulging this little power trip of hers. The director was very impressed with the elegant, poised and breathtakingly beautiful woman gracing my arm at the gala. If anyone recognized her from the club, they didn’t have the balls to mention it which means I didn’t have to break any jaws.

“You were,” I confirm.

She isn’t wearing her regular makeup, instead opting for an event appropriate style that makes her look almost innocent. We both know she is anything but.

She wiggles her hips on the already rock hard member still stuck in the confines of my pants.

“I want a taste.”

Smart girl, trying to top from the bottom. Normally, I’d have her on her knees or I would have a hand fisted in her hair, never fully giving up control.

“Take me out, Kitten.”

She smiles victoriously and reaches to unbuckle my belt. I move further up the bed, lifting my hips to help her work my pants and briefs down my legs. My head settles against the pillow as she crawls back up the mattress. She lowers her mouth until her breath fans against my skin, making my cock jerk, but she knows well enough to wait for permission before taking things any further. I let the anticipation build until she releases a small whine.

“Put your mouth on my cock.”

She greedily swallows my length, making herself gag, but that doesn’t deter her. She lavishes my cock while keeping her wicked gaze locked on mine the whole time. I’m already really fucking close to blowing my load down her throat but I will not give her the satisfaction.

Reaching down, I pull her off and flip her onto her back. In the next second, her sexy little panties are torn in two and she’s screaming as I split her open. I’m big but she can take it.

Her hands claw at the bedsheets then my forearms, seeking something to hold on to as I pound into her at a furious pace. She’s so turned on, her juices drip down between her ass cheeks and smear over my thighs. On a different day I would be dying to get a taste of her sweet cream but tonight I’m on a mission to punish her as much as I reward her. Afterall, I can’t let her forget who is in charge.

One of my hands gropes at her breast while my other wraps under her thigh and twists her onto her side. The shift in angle causes a new series of moans to spill from her pouty lips and her fingers trail down her stomach in search of her most sensitive spot. I bat her hand away, growling in my displeasure.

“I didn’t say you could touch what’s mine.”

“Please, Sir.”

“If you’re such a good girl, use your words and tell me what you want.”

Her eyes narrow at me, attempting to look menacing but a particularly hard trust causes them to shut completely.

“Oh fuck!”

I don’t stop my assault, pinching her nipple between my finger and my thumb while I sink my teeth into her inner calf.

“Sir, I need to come. Can you please make me come?”

“I don’t think you’re desperate yet.” She’s close but I want her to beg and that was not good enough.

“Please! I want your fingers on my pussy and I want you to fuck me until it hurts. I want to come, please.”

I release her leg, leaning down to leave more hickeys along the line of her throat. I love when she styles her hair up. It gives me unobstructed access to mark her up and to drive her a little crazy.

“Good girl. Begging so pretty for me.”

I have just enough room to snake a hand between our bodies and press my thumb against her clit. My scalp stings where her fingers tangle themselves in my hair, holding on as I fuck her with abandon. I was close earlier with her devilish tongue against my shaft but now, balls deep inside the wet heat of her pussy, my entire body is on fire.

I feel the moment the coil snaps. Her entire body shivers, her walls pulsing around my cock and pulling me over the edge with her. I manage three more thrusts before sinking to the hilt and pressing my pelvis flush against hers.

We both remain still save for the heavy rise and fall of our chests as we catch our breaths. I’m the first to break the bubble of our post-orgasmic bliss, untangling myself from my bratty pet.

When I return from the bathroom with a damp cloth, she looks me straight in the eye as her hand reaches between her legs, using two fingers to scoop up some of my seed and licking them clean of our combined releases.

The action is so unbelievably filthy that it already has me sporting another partial.

“I was good,” she purrs. “Now I want to go back to being bad.”

Part 4

[imaslutforcuddles]

Vampire

(Moodboard made by me.)

August Walker x Reader

Vampire, By Olivia Rodrigo.

Summary: You two had been like peas in a pod, close and comfortable. You both knew each other or so you thought. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out. August knew this, and he pushed it as far away as he could. But you're smarter than that.

Words: 942

Warnings: Swearing, spoilers, mentions of sex, yelling, manipulation, angst, violence, minor character death, not a happy ending, August Walker is a walking red flag.

A/N: This goes along with mission impossible six, except reader works alongside August. Like most of my other fics, this one corresponds with a song. Banner below by cafekitsune.

"If you don't hear from us," Ethan looked over to August as he cocked his gun.

"I'll do it my way."

August had always been a brute and someone who wouldn't hesitate to get a job done.

After years of working alone, he was a complete change of direction; and you loved it.

The thrill alone of working with him was great, but the thrill he gave you almost every night in bed kept you warm inside.

He nodded to Ethan.

"Don't take your eyes off him."

August grunted as the others left, he had wanted you to stay safe and far away from him. Yet, he couldn't help but yearn for you.

He shook his head returning to the reason he had gone on this mission in the first place.

After unplugging the camera watching Lane, he filled a syringe with adrenaline, before walking back to where Lane was held captive.

The door was opened and he almost shoved the syringe into Lane grunting as he gasped awake.

"Enough games, I'm taking you out of here."

It was like a mouse and cat. Ethan was chasing a piece of cheese that couldn't be found, unknowing of the cat running after him.

August huffed, un-doing his cuffs.

"Where's Hunt?"

Lane had almost looked scared when he spoke.

"He's gone to the meeting, with a copy of you."

August was huffing with rage at this point and Lane could feel it. He raised a hand and sucked in a breath.

"Calm down. Call the apostles. Warn them."

August's face contorted, almost in disgust; but mainly annoyance.

"I have no way of contacting them. For their safety and mine."

He glared at him.

"What I do have is an extraction team with satellite overwatch and prearranged rendezvous. They'll know as soon as we leave the building."

He turned to leave before Lane continued, "No, I'm staying here."

He shifted in his seat as August stopped.

"I haven't finished with Hunt yet."

August whipped his body around, full of annoyance and anger, before stomping back to him.

"Why'd you have to make this so fucking complicated?"

Lane's head turned, "I don't understand what you mean."

August looked absolutely done, he felt done too.

"The deal was simple. I help you frame Hunt, you give me the plutonium. You're wasting time."

"There cannot be peace without first a great suffering."

He moved his face away, trying not to beat the shit out of him.

"The greater the suffering, the greater the peace."

August was losing his patience.

"When I wrote those words I wasn't referring to your peace or Hunt's suffering. The old world order needs dismantling, and we have the tools to dismantle it. All you seem to care about is that Hunt lives to take the blame. That's not anarchy."

Lane's face becomes widened and amused, and he nods slightly.

"That's revenge."

Lane leaned forward.

"Yes it is. And when I have what I want, the apostles with give you the plutonium."

Walker sighs and starts walking away, only before turning back around to spit out more words like their his last.

"Hunts the only friend you've got. You're only alive today because he didn't have the guts to kill you. Sloan was right, the IMF is like halloween. Nothing but grown men wearing,"

He pauses, something hadn't felt right earlier and things were starting to add up. He looks over to the computer they had made a copy of lanes face with.

Lane looks behind him and smiles, shifting in his seat.

"What?" He clears his throat uncomfortably.

August starts walking over to lane before aggressively ripping off his mask, revealing:

"Was it just the job?" You growl.

He was taken aback, expected anyone but you. He prayed it would be anyone but you.

You hadn't specified but he knew what you were asking.

The restraints holding you to the chair had been fake the whole time, just like his affection for you.

"You know, i had almost left this whole job when Hunt was sure you were John Larke. I couldn't believe you had faked our,"

You pause trying to find the words for the relationship you had made with him.

"He begged me to just sit here and act, that you may be exactly what he thought you were." You scoff before turning your head.

"And he was right."

August just stands there, annoyed and unresponsive. It makes you want to scream and kick him, but you stay patient.

"Was i just some stupid fuck you thought would help you when things turned out in the end?"

He finally opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is acid.

"I could never love you."

it strikes something in you. Maybe a fire, maybe something hotter than that, but it burns.

And you snap.

You reach behind him and grab his gun, it had happened all too fast. He couldn't contemplate what to say to you.

"Your fucking pathetic you know that? Going after your own teammate because you couldn't find a man to fuck you." He snorts trying to push you.

"That's rich coming from you asshole."

Your hands shake and he doesn't miss it. He counts on your failure, he thinks your weak.

"Oh you think i wouldn't kill you?" You laugh and his smirk turns bitter.

"Goodbye August, or whatever your name is."

Your words pierce his heart before the bullet does, but they don't reach his brain fast enough to make a move.

His words had rung in your head long after his body fell motionless.

But you had no choice, and he wasn't worth it.

[love2write2626]

Our Love in a Rogue Nation 8 (Final Chapter)

Chapter 8

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid. Those are the words on repeat in my mind. I should have known better, Ethan is probably so disappointed in me, not only am I risking the outcome of this mission, I’m also putting many more people at risk.

I looked over at Ilsa, of course not only am I sitting in the middle of a restaurant with a bomb strapped to me, but she was sent to keep watch.

“You know, you put your own self in this position, I would never be stupid enough to do what you did” she said in a condescending tone. I decided it was best to just ignore her, I am sitting on a pressure trigger and just a small amount of weight change will set it off. I let out a deep breath, and that’s when I felt his presence. Ethan, was here. I felt him put his hand on my shoulder and Ilsa quickly said “Careful” he ignored her and looked deep into my eyes

“I’m here baby” he said I went to smile but shuddered when Lane’s voice spoke through my ear piece

“This is the end Mr. Hunt” I repeated, Ethan started looking me up and down, he saw the ear piece, and the contact in my eye. He reached over to move my jacket, to see what he already knew was there and Ilsa said

“Careful”

“Two pounds of Semtex, five hundred .30 caliber ball bearings. Your girlfriend is sitting on a highly sensitive pressure trigger… so no sudden moves” I repeated everything that Lane said to me. Ethan looked around the restaurant and then back at Ilsa and she showed him her gun.

“Your final test” he said to her

“When Lane has what he wants I kill you and Ashley, if not… everyone dies” I saw the worry in his eyes I wanted to jump up and pull him into my arms, but then I heard Lane’s voice again

“No time to think Ethan, have a seat please” Ethan moved to sit in the chair across from me “Human nature, my weapon of choice. From the moment I killed the woman in the record shop I knew you would stop at nothing to find me. I also knew Ilsa wouldn’t have a choice. Whether she broke you that night you met or she let you go. Whether you let her go in Morocco, whether she went to Atlee or not…” Lane was cut short by Ethan finishing his sentence.

“You were certain we’d end up where we are right now” he looked up and added “Then, again. So was I” he moved closer and gently grabbed my hand before continying his speech to Lane “I know you, somewhere along the line you had a crisis of faith. Human life didn’t matter anymore. Or maybe it never did, you killed too many innocent people, without ever asking who was giving the orders or why. You blame the system for what you are. Not, not yourself. You wanted revenge. But Rome wasn’t destroyed in a day. You needed help, you needed money, a lot of it. And you will stop at nothing to get it… that’s how I know I’m going to put you in a box” I heard Lane take a deep breath and I could tell he is becoming annoyed

“Where’s the disk?” Lane asked

“You like to play games, I have a game for you. How about 50 million to let Ashley go?” he held up a napkin that had a routing number on it. It was silent for a few moments and then I heard

“Where is the disk?”

“You’re looking at it, I am the disk, I memorized all 2.4 billion in numbered accounts. If that vest goes off you get nothing. Without me, you’re nothing” I heard lane let out a little chuckle “Right now you’re thinking it’s a bluff, I’d never let anything happen to her. I couldn’t possibly memorize the entire disk… there’s only one way to be sure let Ashley go.” My heart started to race, I knew based on the beeping that it was getting closer to zero. I started to breath hard, and I felt tears running down my face. At almost zero the countdown stopped, and I let out a deep breath. Lane’s men who had been lurking in the shadows, started moving closer “If they come any closer shoot me” he said to Ilsa.

“Ethan No!” I said, he gave me a angry warning look and I put my head down, he’s probably so upset with me for doing something this stupid

“The only way this ends Lane, is you and me face, to face. Except this time I won’t be in a glass box. If you want your money the bone doctor is going to have to beat it out of me! NOW LET HER GO” he said in a low, deep voice. There was another moment of silence before he started telling me the code to get the vest off. Once it was off, I stood up and Ethan handed me a phone. “Go”

“Ethan…”

“Go, your brother, Brandt, and Luther are waiting” I nodded I reached for his hand and gave it one last squeeze before walking away. I dialed Benji’s number, and he picked up immediately

“Did you get her?”

“Yes, he got me big brother” he let out a sigh of relief “Now where am I going?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Benji gave me directions and made my way to where they were busy building the next part of the plan.

“I’m so glad you’re ok” Benji said as soon as he saw me, he pulled me into a huge hug.

“So I’m assuming the end game is getting Lane in this glass box?” I asked

“Yes, we’re hoping Ethan is going to be able to get him here… Ethan was worried sick about you” I looked at the ground. I knew Benji meant he was angry, and only worried because this was interfering with the plan

“I’m sorry” I mumbled

“All that matters now is you are ok”  I felt tears running down my face

“Is there a bathroom?” I asked

“Yeah, I think there is one around the corner” I nodded and headed that way, but as soon as I turned the corner, I couldn’t hold myself together anymore, I leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down to the ground and cried.

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Ethan’s P.O.V

After getting Lane into the box and helping them put it in he truck, I looked around for Ashley. Words cannot describe how happy I am that she is ok.

“Benji, where is Ashley?” I asked

“Oh, I think she went to the bathroom, its around the corner” I patted him on the shoulder

“Thanks” I said. As soon as I turned the corner, I saw Ashley on the ground against the wall crying “Ashley!” I exclaimed running over to her, I kneeled in front of her “Baby… are you hurt?” I asked her looking for any sign of harm to her body. She gave me a weird look, and pulled away from me “baby what’s wrong?” I asked

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What?” I asked confused

“Don’t you hate me?” she asked

“Hate you? Baby, what on earth are you talking about? Why would you think I hate you?”

“Because, I was stupid and put the whole mission at risk”

“Baby, you made a mistake. That’s it, and all the years you have known me have I made mistakes on missions?” she nodded “I love you so much, words cannot describe how lost I felt knowing that he had you, knowing that at any moment he could hurt you I…” she cut me off by throwing herself into my arms

“I love you too” I helped her stand up, and then I pushed her against the wall, and brought my lips to Her’s kissing her with every ounce of love I have for her. When we broke apart I said

“Do we have to have another lesson, to help with your self-esteem?” she blushed because she knew exactly what I was referring to. I pushed my knee between her legs, she gasped. “Ashley…” we were cut short by Brandt

“C’mon guys we have to go” we both sighed

“We’ll have that lesson whenever we get another chance to be alone” she giggled we started to walk but I stopped her “I need you to know, no matter what happens, what you do or don’t do, even if I am upset with you… There is nothing you could EVER do to make me not love you anymore” she gave me a sad smile and pushed her lips lightly on mine

“C’mon you two” Brandt said again, we walked hand in hand to where everyone else is. I saw Ashley looking around, I knew who she was looking for. “You don’t have to worry about Ilsa anymore… she left, and I doubt we will ever see her again” We climbed into the car, and followed behind the truck that was holding Lane.

“I’m so glad all of this is over” Ashley said

“I know. Things will most likely cool down that we have Lane” I looked over at Ashley “We finally take some time and focus on us. Get married, go on our honeymoon” I kissed her hand. “I love you” I said

“I love you more Ethan Hunt”

 The next story in the series is ‘The Fallout of Our Love’

Thanks for reading please comment and let me know what you think!!

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Daddy Knows Best, Part III

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part III 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader  

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout 

Word Count: 2.5K 

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 trip together. 

Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), Dom/sub vibes, oral (m receiving), cum facial, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v sex, cumshot, loss of a parent (mother), 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. 

Cover Art by me 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“It’s only a couple of days, Babydoll. I promise I will be back before you know it.” I fold a polo and put it in my suitcase on the bed next to a grumpy Babydoll. 

“You’re gonna leave me here with Mom? I might as well be alone.” That little pout on her face gets me every time. And she’s not wrong. Her mother will ignore her at best, and at worse she will try and connect with her.  

Too little, too late. 

“You want to come with Daddy on his trip, don’t you?” I start thinking about what things we could get up to in my safe house. 

And it could make it easier to do that...other thing I had planned.  

“Please, Daddy?! I promise I won’t take up a whole lotta space and I’ll do whatever you say, I promise!! Please, can I go?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pokes out her bottom lip and I am a goner. 

“Whatever I say, huh?” A couple of things come to mind at that moment and I file them away for later usage.  

She bites her lip to hide a smile, nodding furiously.  

I wink at her, leaning down and claiming her lips. Pulling away and smiling at her, I say, “Go and pack for a three-day trip,” I bring a hand down to cup her pussy, moving her panties to the side and dipping a finger in to feel that she was a soaked mess, “You are going to do everything I say, Babydoll. And you will respond with ‘Yes, Daddy’. Am I understood?” 

“Yes, Daddy.” She wiggles her hips to try and ride my finger, but I pull it away and lick it clean as she watches. 

“Don’t make me have to ask you to go pack, Babydoll.” I give her a stern look and she scurries away. 

Soon, our suitcases are in my Escalade and we are off on our small road trip. 

You wake up slightly as Daddy is carrying you into a cabin under the light of the moon. You keep your eyes closed as you are put into bed and your shoes and jacket are removed. You peek an eye open as you lift a hand to grab Daddy’s arm as he starts to leave. 

A warm hand touches yours, “Daddy just has to make a quick phone call. I’ll be right back, Babydoll.” 

You nod and close your eyes, melting into the plush comforter surrounding you. The creak of the wooden bedroom door shutting is all you hear before sleep claims you yet again. 

I shut the bedroom door and immediately pull out my cell phone. Dialing a number I’ve memorized, I wait until the line is picked up.  

“Timeline’s moved up. Do it now.” Hanging up after hearing confirmation, I make my way over to the small bar in the living room. 

I pour two fingers of Black Label neat and swirl it around, taking a sip. The smoky vanilla liquid coats my tongue as I savor it and then swallow. Whether it’s the placebo effect or not, I instantly feel calm.  

Sitting on one end of the couch, I throw my feet up on the coffee table. Holding my drink in my lap and leaning my head back against the backrest of the couch, I close my eyes and just rest.  

It’s so rare that I can just sit in silence anymore. I didn’t ask to be a father...figure. Not that I’m upset about Babydoll being in my life, far from it. She's perfect for me.  

I’m terrible for her. But she has no clue about that. And I'd like to keep it that way. 

My sweet little empty-headed Babydoll is ready to do anything and everything I ask her to. If pleasing me makes her happy, who am I to stop her? 

I take a sip of my drink and hear the slow creak of the floorboards in the bedroom. I throw my arm over the back of the couch as the bedroom door opens and Babydoll’s head pokes out. 

“Daddy?” Oh, how I love to hear that out of her mouth. 

“Come here, Babydoll,” I hold an arm out as she shuffles across the hardwood in her thigh-high socks and makes her way over to the couch to sit sideways in my lap, “I thought you were sleeping, babygirl.” 

Laying her head on my chest and wrapping her arms around me, she settles in against my warmth. “I reached over for you and you weren’t there and I got scared.” How is she this fucking adorable? 

“Oh, my sweet girl. I was right here the whole time. I promise you are always safe with me,” Safe was kind of subjective, but I went with it, “I’ve got an idea to get you back to sleep, it’ll make you nice and tired.” 

She starts to squirm in my lap and I put my hand on one of her thighs, hooking my fingers in her thigh-high sock and pulling it down her leg. I do the same with the other before I reach over her to put my drink on the table. 

Moving her to the couch, I kneel between her legs on the floor and get my hands under her skirt to pull her panties down. The thought crosses my mind how I went through her suitcase and pulled out all the panties she packed. I want easy access to this pussy while we’re away. 

She snaps me out of my reverie with, “Daddy?” 

“What’s wrong, Babydoll?”  

She leans up and runs her hand over the front of my slacks and grabs my dick. “I wanna learn to give Daddy special kisses too.” Did she know what she was doing to me? 

Fuck. 

I bite my bottom lip and sit back on my heels for a second, looking into her pleading eyes. Standing back up, I open my zipper and pull out my already half-hard dick right in front of those pretty plump lips. “You want this in your mouth, Babydoll?”  

“Yes, Daddy. Please teach me how you like it?” Her eyes go wide when my dick twitches at her words, so she decides to go a bit further. “Wanna taste Daddy.” She’s rewarded with another twitch. 

“Why don’t you grab Daddy’s dick and stroke it first, Babydoll?” The moment she has a hand around me, she licks her lips and it threw me for a loop. Up until this point, she has been my sweet virginal Princess, now she wants to suck me off and it turns me on beyond belief. She reverts to using both hands and that little tongue snakes out again in her concentration. I take my dick out of her hands and grab her chin, “Stick your tongue out for Daddy and keep that mouth open.” 

I hold the head of my dick and spread my precum all over her tongue, pushing just the head inside her mouth. “Now, close your mouth around Daddy’s dick with just your lips. No teeth, Babydoll. I’m gonna fuck your little mouth and then you’re gonna see how far you can go. If you have to stop to breathe, just open your mouth, ok?”  

She hums her understanding around my cock and I twitch in her mouth again. I grab the back of her head and move my hips to shallowly fuck her hot wet mouth. She’s doing so good just letting me use her, and I want to fucking cum down her throat any second but I bide my time and just thrust into her nice and slowly. I stop and pull out, a string of her spit still connecting us. 

She gulps in some air and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking back up into my eyes. “Can I try to see how far I can go now, Daddy?” It’s like I created the perfect little cockslut. 

“Yes, Babydoll, I want you to show me how deep you can take me. Now, be a good girl and suck Daddy’s dick.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” She takes me in both hands, licking the underside of my dick then taking me in her mouth. I groan in the back of my throat. She gets about halfway and then begins a slow rhythm of stroking and sucking.  

Not the best blowjob, but for a beginner? Damn fine first try. She takes direction well, she’s eager, and she looks so fucking cute while sucking a dick.  

I feel the coil in my stomach tightening. I was so ready to cum down her throat, but her fucking face was so pretty I wanted to mark it as mine. I run a hand through the sweat-slick hair on my forehead before throwing my head back and grunting.  

“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna cum all over that sweet little face...ugh, fuck, close your eyes!” I pull out and shoot rope after rope of thick milky cum over her beautiful perfect face. When her tongue slips out to taste what landed on her lips, I thought I would never stop cumming. 

Slowing my stroke, I squeeze from the base to the tip of my dick, I wipe the last of my cum on her chin. Luckily, none of my cum hit her lashes or eyelids. When she opens her eyes, I smiled at her. I use my thumb to move a bit of my cum between her open lips and she sucks my thumb so sweetly. 

I take back my thumb and place my hand on my chest to steady my breathing. 

“Daddy, I’m tired now. Can we go to bed?” She yawns lazily and the glob of cum hanging from her chin dances.  

I hold in my laughter and suggest, “Wash your face first, Babydoll. Then bedtime.” I take her hand and lead her into the bathroom so she can wash her face and I can use the can. She doesn’t seem to mind me taking a piss, but she isn't covert as she glances sidelong at my dick. I flush, wash my hands after she’s done and we enter the bedroom together. 

I take off the majority of my clothes, then I decide I don’t need to wear anything. We’re out here free from prying eyes, might as well sleep comfortably. And if that makes it even easier access to that pussy, why not? Removing my boxer briefs, I turn to where Babydoll is going over to her suitcase, no doubt to look for pajamas. 

“Babydoll, I want you to sleep naked tonight." I settle under the covers and make myself comfortable. 

“Yes, Daddy.”  

I watch as she pulls down her skirt and pulls off her sweater and undershirt. That tight little body bounced slightly as she made her way over to the bed. Climbing in, she pecks me on the lips and settles down on her side with her leg pulled up. 

I turn to face her and wrap an arm around her waist, pushing her leg up a bit further with my own so I can slide the head of my dick into her tight wet heat. I groan lowly as she moans from the sudden intrusion. 

“We’re gonna sleep with it inside tonight. I want you to just sleep and warm my cock at the same time.” I could feel her heartbeat racing and her breath quickening as he tries to keep herself calm. 

“Yes, Daddy,” She wiggles her hips in the slightest, getting used to the fullness. 

“Stay still, Babydoll. Daddy’ll fuck you in the morning, ok? For now, just rest, babygirl.” I angle my hips and aim for her g-spot and she’s putty in my hands. 

“Daddy, just right there, please? Please please, I won’t ask for anything else. I promise!” I can’t see her face but I can hear how easily she could cry from the tension. 

“Fine, fine. But I’m fucking you to sleep, Babydoll. You better cum for me when I tell you to.” I stay inside her while moving to kneel behind her, fucking into her into the mattress. 

I lean over her, my hands holding her hips as I continuously kiss her cervix with the tip of my dick. Her moans are music to my ears, along with the slapping sounds of flesh that fill the dimly lit room. I can feel her walls start to tighten around me and reach under her leg for her clit. 

“Cum for me, Babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick, babygirl.” I pinch her little clit between my fingers and the dam breaks. 

“Yes, Daddy!” Her toes curl and her core quivers around me. Her warm wetness coats my length and it’s even easier to fuck into her now. Once I hear the squelching sound of her wet pussy, I can’t help but chase my release. 

“That’s my good girl. Just like that...Daddy’s gonna fuck this tight little princess hole til you can't take it anymore. You’re doing so good taking my cock, babygirl. Fuck...fuuuuuuck. Such a perfect little pussy for me to fuck. Shit! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Ugh, fuck!” I pull out and cum all over her ass and back in heavy white stripes. 

I get up to grab a wet washcloth to wipe away the evidence of my orgasm. Coming back, I realize she is down for the count. Wiping her down, she hums but soft snores are soon to follow. 

Well, I meant what I said when I wanted to fuck her to sleep. 

The next two days are a blur of time with Daddy. The only time he has to go do something alone is the day you left. You wake up and find a note saying that he had to run out. When he comes back, he is in a bad mood and takes it out on your pussy.  

You both load your bags into the Escalade and start your trip home. You sleep most of the trip home, tired from your guts being rearranged. Instead of carrying you in the house, you get a soft nudge to wake up when you are back home. 

"Take your suitcase in, Babydoll. I’ll be right behind you.” He pops the trunk and meets you at the back of the SUV. You pick up your bag and head inside, going straight to your room to drop your luggage. 

It’s very quiet in the house and you wonder where your Mom could be. You check the Master bedroom and the bed is made but she’s not there. The kitchen is empty, and both bathrooms are as well. It wasn’t until something catches your eye in the backyard. 

Something is floating in the pool. Not something. It is someone.  

You go out to the patio, looking into the water you spot your Mother’s lifeless body in the water. 

Before you know it, a blood-curdling scream is escaping you and the world turns black as you’re caught by two strong arms. 

Part IV

A/N: Well, that was a doozy!!! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Guess I’ll just leave this here and see what y’all think. 

**Tag List** 

@raccoon-eyed-rebel @viking-raider @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @livisss @randomweirdoss @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁] 

[cardierreh15]

Secret Life of August Walker

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 18+: 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 , 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 , 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 , 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 , 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 , 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 , 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 , 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐋 🥰

Part I - (Shortest part)

Part II - Out Now!!

Part III

Part IV

Part V

[sillyrabbit81]

Dangle the Carrot

Prompt: Smug and Sadistic, Virginity from @munstysmind (x) Thank you!

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: Approx. 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT/ NON CONSENT, RELUCTANT READER, Coercion, p in v sex, fingering, discussion of body fluids, possessive August.

Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @nashibirne , and @henryobsessed your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.

I had every intention of following the prompt, but as I wrote this is what came out. Walker is definitely smug, but probably not as sadistic as you would think. I hope you enjoy it.

Edited by me, there will be errors

Dividers by me.

Masterlist

Celebration Masterlist

You’re sitting in the safe house sipping on your morning coffee, dressed in a simple knee length summer dress that is fashionable in the local area, going over new intelligence on your latest asset.

You’re going to have to meet him again, he is holding back information, you’re sure of it. The chatter had been building to a crescendo, someone is planning something and you’re sure the asset knows more than he’s letting on.

The assets' pale balding head peers back at you from the photograph that had been taken of him way back before you started to build a relationship with him. He creeps you out, well over 20 years older than you, he looks at you like he’s undressing you every time you meet. You feel like he strings you along with little tidbits just to keep you coming back and you’re starting to think he’s a dead end.

“Staring at his picture won’t make him talk.”

You jump, startled by Special Agent Walker's appearance. Dressed as he always is in a plain muted suit, he has a mug of coffee (you assume) in his hand and he sits next to you, plucking the file from your hands and opening it on the dining table in front of you.

“Any suggestions?” you ask.

“Possibly,” Walker says, the corner of his whiskered mouth lifting with a knowing smirk.

You purse your lips. Walker always looks like he knows something you don’t, you’re about to ask him what it is when he continues.

“I’ve been told to hurry you along. Langley believes he has information about a high value target and our window of opportunity is closing swiftly.”

Huffing with disgust you say, “I’ve done everything I can besides take my clothes off to get him to give up more information than we already know. I think he knows nothing. I think he’s full of shit.”

Walker shakes his head, “Langley disagrees. They think he might be involved in some way and is trying to avoid implicating himself.”

“I’ve told him we will look the other way on the shit he’s into if he can lead us to the target, or at least give us something we don’t already know.” You shrug and lean back into your chair, waving your hand over the file. “Like I said, I’ve given him every assurance, dangled every carrot, and he gives me nothing. I’m at a loss.”

Walker hums, turning a page, “Maybe it's time to stop dangling the carrot and let him have it.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Walker doesn’t answer immediately. He finishes reading, then closes the file smoothly. He turns in his chair so he’s facing you and his knee brushes against your thigh, while he takes a moment to assess you.

“You said you’ve tried everything except taking your clothes off,” he says, the smirk reappearing on his lips.

“That’s not happening,” you say dismissively, but your cheeks burn at his suggestion.

Walker nods, a faux frown plays on his lips. “Did you read the brief?”

“Only a million times.”

Walker makes a gesture towards the folder on the table. “The initial report, second page, about a third of the way down.”

Sighing, you drag the file back in front of you and flip it open. Walker’s knee presses against your thigh as he puts his arm around the back of your chair and leans in to read over your shoulder.

“There,” he says.

You start to read, impatiently, “The subject is known for many clandestine relationships outside of his marriage. He tends to favour women who…” you trail off as you realise the description of his type of woman is basically a description of you. You keep reading in silence. 

…At least one of his former lovers was a British Agent and seeing as the subject was prone to “pillow talk”, it had proved an effective way to gather intelligence…

“Miss that part in your millions of readings did you?” Walker says in your ear. “Why do you think you were put on this case, hmm?”

The arm that rests on the back of the chair now rests on your shoulder and he starts to stroke your neck. His other hand rests on your knee, his fingers edge beneath the hem of your dress, inching their way up your thigh.

You can barely breathe, the realisation dawning on you that he’s right. You thought you were being rewarded for good work with lower level assets. Embarrassment creeps in, the old imposter syndrome that you had convinced yourself wasn’t an issue begins to rear its ugly head.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

Walker moves closer, his breath is warm on your neck, his fingers have worked themselves halfway up the inside of your thigh and they pause to caress your sensitive delicate skin.

“You can,” he whispers back, “I know what’s stopping you. Why do you think I was put on this case?”

Your chin trembles and you try to swallow down the lump rising in your throat. “This was the plan the whole time?”

“A contingency that Langley has decided to implement to hurry things along.”

Shaking your head, you flick his hand away from your thigh. “I can turn him without having sex with him. Give me a few more days.”

Walker grabs your jaw, his thumb and fingers dig painfully into your cheeks and he makes you look at him. His eyes are blazing with lustful impatience. He’s been waiting for this you realise, he’s been waiting for you to fail, waiting for the go ahead to take you.

“You don’t have a few days, princess. You have tonight,” Walker says in a gravelly and thick tone that doesn’t hold so much as an inch of empathy. “You have a choice. You can open your legs for me like a good girl and I’ll make your first time as pleasant as possible and believe me, I can make it very pleasurable. Or, you can let an ugly, skinny, limp dicked asshole, that doesn’t even know your real name, uselessly pound your sweet, tight, virgin pussy until his cum dribbles into your ruined little hole.”

“And if I refuse both options?” Your voice quivers as you ask the question because deep down you already know the answer.

“You’ll be out. A burn notice will be issued within the next hour.”

Icy fear blooms in your chest and your blood runs cold through your veins. Burn notice. Not only will you be out of the agency, but no self respecting private security firm would take you either. The whole industry would be closed to you. Everything you worked for would be taken from you within the hour.

Closing your eyes, you coldly try to rationalise the situation, weighing up the pros and cons. 

What is virginity anyway? Your hymen was well and truly worn away by now. You’ve had a wide selection of toys inside you. A couple of guys had fingered you in college and it wasn’t as though you were saving yourself for marriage or anything. Your lack of sexual experience is due to not having the inclination to find a partner who you wanted to sleep with rather than any real moral objection. 

There would be worse men to sleep with than Walker. He is attractive, even if he’s normally a little standoffish. He boasts about making it feel pleasurable doesn’t seem to be without merit; you can’t deny that his fingers which are circling their way up your inner thigh again do feel nice.

You open your eyes slowly and determinedly set your jaw. You lick your lips and take a breath to give your tepid consent, but nothing comes out. 

Walker seems to understand though, his hand holding your jaw softens and slides down to your neck. He uses his grip to draw you close enough to brush his lips over yours.

Whiskers prickle against your chin and warm, silky lips stroke yours, capturing first your lower lip then your top in a gentle nip.

“Relax,” he whispers against your mouth. His breath heats your lips and smells of mint and coffee. 

As he resumes his kiss, a light tickling sensation begins on your inner thigh, picking up where it had left off. Soft circling fingers draw an invisible spiral on your sensitive skin as it inches its way towards the apex of your thighs. It feels nice, gentle and tender, and against your will, your skin tingles with warm anticipation.

Hot velvety strokes of his tongue tease your lips, probing softly where they meet, silently urging you to open. He’s patient, easing back before trying again, all the while his thumb strokes your throat and fingers caress higher and higher up your thigh.

Maybe it is primal instinct, or perhaps you simply surrender, but you part your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth with a hum of approval. He strokes, massages, and sucks, encouraging you to reciprocate, but you can’t. While his touch is seductive, your heart beats faster and your body warms as your body begins to throb, you feel detached. It’s like he’s doing things to you and your body reacts but your mind is somewhere else recording your involuntary, mechanical reactions.

The ghosting circular caresses get larger, reaching high enough for a knuckle to brush over your panties. Dispassionate curiosity keeps you unmoving as his hand sweeps over your thigh again, this time a finger traces the edge of your panties, following its curve before resuming its path. 

He brushes over your panties again, floating over your slit and grazing your clit. A deep thrum begins between your legs and vibrates hotly through your nerves, and settles in your breasts making your nipples ache as they grow tight and harden. 

Your detachment shatters. You break his kiss with a cry and force your knees together, trapping his hand between your thighs and halting his advance.

“You were doing so well, princess,” Walker says, with a thicker and less gentle voice than before. 

You scowl at him as he tries to pry your knees apart with his free hand. It’s not anger that makes you protest; it's the fear that grips your heart with its icy fingers as you see the burning lust in his eyes. He isn’t just doing this for the mission, he’s doing this because he wants to and somehow that is so much worse.

You try to stand and run, but he’s too quick for you. He captures your wrists in one hand and roughly uses his body to get behind you. He thrusts his groin against your ass, and bends you over the table, trapping you like a pinned butterfly by your hands and his chest pressing against your back.

“Be a good girl and don’t fight it, because I’ll take you the hard way if I have to,” he growls in your ear in a tone that suggests he might enjoy that even more.

“Please,” you rasp weakly. “Please don’t���”

A rough hand bunches your dress up to your hips then rubs over the soft flesh of your thighs. You try to close your legs but he inches his feet between yours and forces them apart. He licks the shell of your ear before taking your earlobe into his mouth and sucks. Heat flows through your veins again, your nerves electrify while you twist and fight against his iron-like grip and heavy weight.

“Are you getting wet for me, princess?” he asks, mockingly rubbing himself against your ass.

“No!” you protest louder and with more conviction, hoping the forcefulness of your response covers for your lie because despite your fear, and you are afraid, your body is undoubtedly aroused and growing more so with every passing second.

“No?” Walker asks. “Are you sure?”

Embarrassment makes you drop your head to the table with a feeble whimper. Why is it that his smug mocking makes you even more aroused? You’re hot and slick beneath your panties and everytime Walker grinds himself against your ass, the fabric of the gusset clings to your sticky lips.

“Are you sure? I think I should check,” he says as his fingers hook the edge of your panties and peels them away slowly. 

Walker’s fingers easily slide over your pussy. You bite the inside of your cheek to try and stop the moan that hurtles up your throat. You try to fight against him, but he’s got you trapped as his fingers stroke and probe between your legs.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters throatily, as though he’s talking to himself. Sounding almost amazed, he adds, “You like this.”

Humiliated, you let out a soft cry. You do like it. You like the way he’s touching you even better now than when he first started. His weight pinning you to the table is strangely comforting, and knowing you can’t fight him off is embarrassingly arousing.

He spreads you open and a finger teases your entrance. You hold your breath, your whole body clenches anticipating pain. But he’s gentle as he slips a finger easily inside you and lets out a hard amused breath into your ear and you can imagine the smug grin on his face.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he slides his finger back and forth, each time at a new angle as if he is searching for something. He moans softly as he kisses your neck, sucking and biting hard, such a contrast to how gently his finger explores.

He adds a second finger, you cry out again as he stretches you and you clamp down hard as if you could push him out. He groans in response, his voice erotically guttural, powerful and raw as he growls out, “Your pussy is so fucking tight. So fucking hot.”

His fingers curl and you gasp. It already felt so good, but now there is a pleasant pressure building deep in your gut. Your core throbs and you tighten around him even more and your eyes widen in horror as you realise what is happening.

“No, no, no,” you protest as your thighs begin to shake. 

Tears well in your eyes as your body grows incredibly taut and torrid heat gathers between your legs. You pull on the hand holding your wrists and manage to get one free. You cover your mouth, trying to suppress your cries as your body surrenders to searing heaves of euphoric release that leave your skin tingling and your muscles quivering.

You’re still high, heady and weak from your orgasm as Walker pulls your panties down your thighs. Somewhere in your mind you think you should fight him because you know what's coming next, but your body feels so good that you also crave more. So much so that when Walker takes your hips and turns you before snaking an arm around your waist, you docilely let him lift you onto the table and stand between your bare legs.

Heavy lidded you watch him quickly undo his belt, his movements are a frantic indication of his desire. When he lifts his eyes as his pants drop to the floor your breath catches in your throat. Untamed and bestial lust twists his features, curling his lip and narrowing his cobalt stare.

“Please,” you murmur, the words spilling from your lips without any understanding of what you’re begging for.

Walker bares his teeth with a savage grin and growl, and reaches between his legs. He’s soft and blunt as he drags himself over you, coating the head of his cock in your slick arousal. Your mouth opens and you take a stuttering breath as he positions himself at your core. His arm draws your body close to him as he slowly pushes into you, his eyes dark and wild.

Pressure like you’ve never known makes your core spasm and strain and though you put a hand to his chest to try to slow him down, he doesn’t stop his unyielding intrusion. You think you should want to scream, cry, or at least protest, but your legs wrap around him, pulling him deeper until your bodies meet.

Twin moans float as they hang in the air as you both still. His breath saws in his throat as your every exhale comes out with a soft whimper.  No toy ever stretched you like this and you look down to see your slit bloom and spread around his thick cock. 

“Oh God,” you cry as your head lolls and falls back.

Fingers slip between your lips and pull on your teeth until your eyes meet Walkers. He watches slack-jawed and panting as your mouth closes over his intrusive fingers and the humiliating taste of your orgasm stings your tongue. 

With a growl he removes his fingers and covers your mouth with his, forcing his tongue into your mouth and sucking on yours as if to get a taste for himself. He grazes his whiskers over you, making your skin prickle. Your hand moves to his wrist and slides down his forearm and the powerful muscles dancing beneath his hairy skin feel so good you tighten your grip to feel then contract and flex.

He moves.

With fluid and deliberate rolls of his hips, he grinds against you. His mouth still covers yours and you desperately try to breathe through your nose and not choke on the scream that is poised at the back of your throat. His body moves with erotic grace, confusing your mind with every circling thrust. It shouldn’t feel so good, you don’t want this.

Oh but you do. You so do.

The familiar heat gathers between your legs and your hips, moving with him, chasing him, urging him to move faster, to give you what you need to fall into bliss again. You’re not sure when you went from passive recipient to enthusiastically compliant, but you’re definitely a desperately willing participant now.

Walker leaves your lips and kisses down your throat, groaning as he sucks bruisingly hard on your skin. He works his way to your ear, his cheeks burn your skin as your skin prickles and breaks into sweat.

“Your pussy is too good to waste on another man,” Walker groans. “You’re mine now.”

It takes you a moment to register his words, but when they sink in, irrationally your heart soars.

“All fucking mine,” he growls.

The heat of his breath as he rasps out the words in his harsh and rugged baritone send you over the edge. You clasp and grab at him, trying to hold on as your body shakes and shudders and you bask in that moment where everything all falls away and there's nothing except the surging tides of hot euphoria.

“Fuck,” he snarls, when you open your eyes.

He grabs your ass with one hand and hooks his other arm under your knee, spreading you wide open. He’s no longer grinding, now he’s pumping hard watching himself move in and out of your swollen and sodden core.

He cups the back of your head, drawing your mouth close enough to kiss as he chases his end. His rhythmic frantic thrusts suddenly stop as he lifts his head with a long groan and holds himself deep within you. You inhale a rough breath as he imperceptibly thickens and throbs, shocked that you can actually feel each pulse of his release as it rushes up his cock.

With a final sigh, he drops his head, resting against your lips. You kiss him there softly and your lips sting with the taste of his humid skin as sweat runs down his forehead and into your mouth. It should disgust you, but instead of pulling away you kiss him again before lowering your head and nuzzling into his neck. 

You both stay there for a minute while you catch your breath and try to process what happened. You don’t know what to think, it all happened so fast, and feels so confusing. Part of you knows you should be furious, but somehow you can’t seem to muster the anger at the violation when it felt so good.

His softening cock starts to slip from your core. When it falls you feel unbelievably wet between your legs. He came inside you, you hadn’t even thought about it. A small shiver tickles at your spine. Though your core aches, the thought of his cum leaking from you was so erotic that you almost want to reach between you legs and feel it as it slowly flows from deep inside you.

Walker raises his head, his expression as calm as you’ve ever seen and his normally turbulent eyes seem serene. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s trying to smile, not smirk or sneer, but genuinely smile.

“I mean it,” he says, pushing errant hairs tenderly off your face. “You’re not fucking him. I’ll find another way to get what we need.”

From the look of grim determination that settles in his jaw, you have no doubts about his seriousness.

“Do I get a say at all?” you ask, your voice still trembling.

“No.”

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Daddy Knows Best Masterlist

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

[changenameno]

To Be, Or Not To Be

(One-Shot)

(Complete)

 Summary: You absolutely despised Halloween. That’s why your best friend had to drag you to this party, even though you normally avoided these at all costs. Who knows, maybe you really shouldn’t have come? Especially when a costume-less guest makes an appearance, and your evening suddenly takes a deadly turn…

 

Pairing: August Walker x Fem. Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+,cursing, major character death, aneurysm, morbid?!, angsty…good god way more than I intended, promise there is a GOOD ending though, major character undeath, P in V, outdoor sex, pet names

Word Count: 3.2K

 

A/N: This idea had been sitting in my mind quite some time and now it’s finally Halloween and I can whip it out. As always this is not spell checked by someone else, so any mistakes are my own. Happy for any/all constructive feedback and every reblog. Thank you and enjoy!❤️✨

 

! Neither August Walker nor Mission Impossible are mine!

 

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It had been ages since the last time you attended a party and even though it was themed and wearing a costume was mandatory, your best friend was able to convince you to come somehow.

 

 

And as you gave yourself a last once over in the floor-length mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your refection. You’d put on your favourite black dress, paired with black boots and a pointy black hat. This had to be enough of a costume you decided, and besides the dress accentuated your body’s natural curves and made you feel incredible good about yourself.

 

 

Satisfied you pulled on your warm coat, hurrying out the door. Because you really had to get going, as you had promised to be there at 10 pm sharp and it was already quarter past ten.

 

In hindsight maybe this had been the first sign that you shouldn’t have gone to the party.

 

 

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Once you had arrived, your best friend had chided you for being late, but it had no real bite, because she was just glad that you showed up at all.

 

 

Now you were standing somewhere in a corner, grimacing at the loud music blasting from the next room. You definitely needed to catch up on the alcohol consumption of the other partygoers, else you weren’t even going to make it an hour here. And of course your head had started to throb just in time as well.

 

 

You quickly made your way through the masses of sweating, dancing bodies over to the surprisingly small kitchen, where all the alcohol was stacked. Somehow the kitchen was empty when you entered. You looked around and saw a few beer bottles on the counter, grabbing one, before you re-entered the living room. When you felt like no one was watching, you hit the rim of your bottle on a quite expensive looking table to open it. Which it did, though unfortunately it bubbled over from the movement, dripping on the floor.

 

 

“Arrgh, shit.”

 

 

It had also dripped onto your hand and dress, making both disgustingly sticky. Great, now you had to search for a bathroom. You already cursed your best friend for disappearing the second you entered the mansion of the rich guy who was hosting the party. Taking a swig of the somewhat warm beer, you grimaced even more, putting it down on the table.

 

 

As you made your way to the staircase in search of a ‘clean’ bathroom, you felt oddly dizzy and when you turned around a pair of bright blue eyes were already fixed on your face. Trying to blink the fuzziness away, the owner of those beautiful eyes disappeared as soon as the dizzy spell had lifted. Making you wonder if you had just imagined them to begin with.

 

 

After you climbed the stairs, you finally found an empty bathroom. Swiftly turning on the sink, washing your hands first. Then you folded a few pieces of toilet paper, wetting them, trying to rub at the alcohol stains on your dress. It didn’t really help, if anything your dress was now wet and sticky. Sighing you existed the bathroom, stumbling into whoever had been about to enter.

 

 

“Oh sorry, didn’t see you there sweetheart.”

 

 

The voice sounded way too deep and smooth to belong to any of those drunken idiots downstairs. Your suspicions were confirmed, when you looked up and met those same beautiful blue eyes from before. Those were definitely not the only beautiful part about the man in front of you. How could anyone look that stunning? His moustachioed face, must have been carved by the gods.

 

 

His shapely lips suddenly pulled into a knowing smile and he winked at you.

 

 

“You know, you are not far of there, sweetheart.”

 

 

That made you raise your eyebrow in confusion, what was this insanely handsome man talking about?

 

 

“What?”

 

 

Still smiling he opened the door behind you and whispered, “Don’t worry. You’ll see later.” Then he had disappeared and shut the door in your face.

 

 

Okay that encounter was certainly very, very weird and intense. As you descended back into the crowd, the blurriness from before returned, making you stumble again.

 

 

The tall guy you had tumbled into this time, loudly complained, “Hey, watch it!”

 

 

You mumbled an apology, which seemed to placate him, the small blond woman who pulled him in for a kiss, certainly helped distract him as well.

 

 

Still feeling somewhat off, you decided it’d be a good idea to get outside for a bit of fresh air. For the umpteenth time tonight you squeezed through the masses of people. When you finally reached for the patio door, another hand had been quicker, pulling it open. You didn’t even acknowledge who it’d been, because your head felt like it was on the verge of exploding, vision gone for a moment.

 

 

But as you took your first step outside, your lungs filled with the cool and calming night air, instantly making you feel better. A lot of smokers had gathered out here and for some reason they decided now was a good time as any to hurriedly get back inside as they ran over to you.

Quickly dodging, you moved past them, and more into the vast garden, extending into the darkness. You had known the guy who lived here wasn’t poor, but this garden was beyond anything you’d ever seen.

 

 

You passed multiple statues as you ventured further and further away from the stuffy mansion behind you. If you had to describe what you’d been feeling, ever since stepping outside, it’d be a calm sort of pull, leading you right here. Turning a little to the left you had found the entrance to a small labyrinth, a few lanterns lightening the way. Normally you wouldn’t enter, but something seemed to call to you, so you continued, walking right ahead.

 

 

Turning corner after corner, you were sure to have found the heart of the labyrinth. Its centre was round, with a huge white, marble statue in the middle, circled by a few equally white benches. The moment you stepped around, to take a closer look at the statue your breath hitched, as a dark silhouette came into view. Because you’d been walking for some time, your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, being able to make out a man sitting on one of the benches.

 

 

“Mhhm. We meet again. Didn’t expect you so soon.”

 

 

That voice.

 

 

You knew that voice.

 

 

Carefully approaching him, he’d turned his head and as the light fell onto his face, you finally recognised the handsome stranger from the bathroom incident.

 

 

“You.”

 

 

“Me.” His deep chuckle should have been unnerving, but instead you still felt calm in his presence, even sitting down next to him.

 

 

Scrutinizing his every move and expression, you noted that he wasn’t wearing a costume.

 

 

“Yours is just a pointy hat. Not sure that qualifies as a costume either.”

 

 

“Sure it does. Wait I didn’t say that out loud, did I?!”

 

 

A little alarmed that he’d known what you’d been thinking, you stared at him, questioning your own sanity as you let him take hold of one of your hands.

 

 

His smooth baritone, making your skin prickle pleasantly, “No you didn’t, sweetheart.”

 

 

His thumb had begun stroking over your skin gently, blue eyes on your face, taking in the delicacy of your sweet features. “You look beautiful.”

 

 

You weren’t sure why no alarm bells went off in your head when his free hand softly brushed over your cheekbone, but you still felt tranquillity reigning your thoughts. Even going as far as leaning into his touch.

 

 

Before you knew it, his pillowy lips pressed against yours. Moving perfectly in tandem as if he’d kissed you a hundred times before. Warmth settled in your stomach, slowly spreading through your whole body.

 

When he pulled back after a while, he still held your chin in his warm hand. His sapphire like eyes seemed to glaze over, suddenly filled with a deep seated sorrow.

 

 

A little confused by the sudden change of his expression, you wanted to ask if he was alright, but he was quicker.

 

 

Chuckling sadly at your musings, he purposefully picked his next words. He was determined not to lose you, so with surprising firmness, he promised, “I won’t let you die, sweetheart.”

 

 

What on earth, was he talking about??!!

 

 

You didn’t get to voice your thoughts though, as one of his big hands was pressed over your heart, immediate heat radiating from him. Not only that, his hand started to glow with a blinding white light.

 

 

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry. Take a deep breath, love.”

 

 

You wanted to cry out, the situation more than just confusing, as the heat rose to an unbearable level. Tightening your chest, every breath burning your lungs. Pain spreading through your entire body, though stopping within your head were it felt like your brain wanted to crack your skull open. You didn’t notice, when exactly you stopped seeing anything but an all-consuming darkness, too occupied with the excruciating pain riddling your body. Only agony filled whimpers leaving your lips.

 

 

A last thought running through your mind, before everything stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

 

 

Who was he?

 

 

You didn’t hear his rumbled murmur anymore. But he uttered his answer anyway.

 

 

“I’m your death.”

 

 

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Your eyes flew open, panicked voices all around you. Completely disoriented by the utter chaos and confusion in your head, you tried sitting up, focusing on the person squeezing you very tightly. Whoever was on top of you, was sobbing into your neck, “Are you alright? Oh god, you sacred me half to death!”

 

 

The squeezing made it hard to answer, but you weren’t sure you could give one anyway. Death. Why? What had happened?

 

 

After another minute of hugging and sobbing, your best friend’s head came into view as she had leaned back, searching your face for something. You tried smiling at her weakly, then she addressed the people that had gathered around you, “E-every thing’s alright. No-no need for 9-1-1.”

 

 

Calmer now, she whispered, “You are alright, aren’t you?”

 

 

Honestly, you weren’t sure? Had you hit your head? You didn’t know. Just as you looked up, a pair of blue eyes met yours. Him.

He had saved you. But how? Why?

 

 

When you blinked, he was gone. No, damn it, you needed answers! A little rushed you tried getting up, pulling your friend up with you, as she stared at you in astonishment, “I promise I’m alright. I-I just have to go…I’ll, um…I’ll call you later!”

 

 

Before she or anyone else could stop you, you were running full force in the direction his curly covered head had disappeared into.

 

Leaving your gaping friend and the onlookers behind you.

 

 

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Out of breath you reached the labyrinth’s entrance once more. One look over your shoulder told you that no one had followed.

 

 

Starting to turn around the same corners as you had previously, you finally arrived at the labyrinth core. He was already there, as if he’d waited for you. Standing tall, burly arms crossed in front of his chest, small smirk grazing his lips. Those same lips you’d kissed. Those same lips you wanted to kiss again.

 

 

Blue eyes sparkling with mirth, as he held out his hand for you to take. When you put your smaller one in his, it fit like a puzzle piece. He pulled you closer until you were standing directly before him.

 

 

Still a little out of breath, you asked one of the more urgently, pressing questions,” Who-Who are you?”

 

 

An amused shadow grazed his features, as he answered cryptically, “I’m sure you already know, don’t you little one? But to make it easier, you can call me August, if you like.”

 

 

He was right, you knew. But that didn’t change the fact that you couldn’t wrap your mind around the truth, so you opted to stay in the moment for now, not questioning the insanity that had taken place.

 

 

You leaned into his muscled frame, purring up at him,” August?”

 

 

His deep timbre vibrating through his chest, as his name rolled so deliciously off your tongue, humming right back, “Yes?”

 

 

“Kiss me.”

 

 

Immediately his soft lips caught yours, big hands roaming your body, landing on your waist pulling you closer into the warmth of his. A shiver running down your spine, tightening your nipples against the fabric of your black dress.

 

 

A wanton moan breaking free, when August began grinding your bodies together. His lips had moved down, pressing heatedly into the skin of your neck.

 

 

Gasping when his teeth lightly bit down, as your instincts kicked in, baring your neck to him even more. When you tilted your head back to give him better access, a feral growl left him, intensifying the sexual tension between you.

 

 

Strong hands began sliding down your body, squeezing your behind while his generous bulged pushed more insistently into your stomach. Making you wonder how’d he fit?

 

 

Voice a lot huskier then before, he pressed out between kisses, “Don’t you worry, your pretty little head. We’ll. Make. It. Fit.”

 

 

Oh fucking hell. You were quite literally fucked.

 

 

August’s deep voice, pulled you from your thoughts, “Well that’s the idea, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

 

 

When you only whimpered in response, he nipped at your skin harder, pulling a shriek from you, repeating himself,” I said isn’t it, sweetheart? Verbal confirmation. Or I won’t continue.”

 

 

It took you an embarrassing long time, processing his question, but once you did, you quickly mewled out, “Y-Yeah that- aargh fuck-“ August had sneaked one hand into your soaking wet panties, expertly manipulating your little nub with his calloused thumb.

 

 

Laughing meanly, when you couldn’t finish your sentence as pleasure began wracking through your body, “Mmh, I take that as a yes then?”

 

 

All inhibition lost the minute you’d felt his lips against yours, you cried, “F-fuck, ye-yes… yes don’t stop!”

 

 

One long finger started to slide through your pulsing folds, stopping right at your weeping, little hole. Then he pushed it inside, to the hilt, making you moan loudly.

 

 

“That’s it. Atta girl, already so, so wet for me.”

 

 

You bucked against his hand when he lifted one of your legs, letting it rest against his hip, because the movement pressed against one of the delicious spots inside you.

 

 

Your lips parted, panting, as a second finger began stretching you, readying you for a much, much bigger rod soon about to enter. August looked down, a sudden need to properly see you, overtaking him.

 

 

Swiftly he shoved the hem of your dress up, fastening it by stuffing it inside your bra, so his eyes could drink in your sullied panties. But he wanted an unobstructed view, so he unceremoniously ripped them open, exposing your soaking cunt to the cold night air. He didn’t let up any of his movements, fingering you open, as his thumb circled your clit with vigour.

 

 

Your leg began trembling, as your pleasure climbed higher and higher, reaching an intense crescendo when a third finger squeezed into your tight canal.

 

 

The orgasm was ripped from you so violently, if August hadn’t had such a steely grip on you, you would have buckled and fallen to the ground, as both your legs had instantly turned to jelly.

 

 

After a few deep breaths, you were able to get your bearings again, hot puffs of air hitting your face, showing August’s restraint as he’d waited for you to calm down a little bit, before proceeding to pull his fingers out.

 

 

With surprising ease he lifted you up, off the ground completely. The metal buckle of his belt pressed into your ass, making you hiss at the coldness against your skin. You slung your arms and legs around his body, pressing closer to enjoy the heat radiating from him.

 

 

“Hold on tight.” When you did, his hands left your waist, to unbuckle his belt, making him groan as his throbbing cock was finally freed from its confinement.

 

 

His biceps curled around your back, positioning your weeping pussy right over his raging cock. His rich, velvety voice panting against your ear, “You ready, sweetheart?”

 

 

The slide of his cockhead between your folds, made you whimper anew. His size definitely very impressive.

 

 

“Don’t worry, that’s why we stretched you, no? Can’t hold back much longer, are you ready, little one?”

 

 

“Y-yes. Ple-“. You didn’t come any further, as August began pressing his length into your slick tunnel, groaning loudly as your warm, tight walls wrapped around his cock.

 

 

Drunk on lust, your legs tightly wrapped around his middle, making you sink down to the hilt of his shaft. Needy sounds pouring from your mouth, as he filled you so completely.

 

 

Long fingers pressing into your sides were he held you just as tightly. “You sound so sweet. Gotta make sure you keep purring for me, little one.”

 

 

And he did make sure on his promise, the first thrust up into you, already made you see stars. Your fingers desperately clutching his curls, panting directly into his ear.

 

 

Legs quaking, as August continued to thrust languidly into your pussy. One of his hands gliding between your bodies, thumb catching on your clit, making you arch into him.

 

 

“Needy little thing.”

 

 

He filled you perfectly with every movement of his pistoling hips, picking his pace up even more. Hitting places inside that had your cunt quivering around his mighty girth.

 

 

You started rocking with him, as he kept ramming into you, sending pleasure through you with each thrust of his fat cock.

 

 

“Gonna- fuck gonna fill you up, sweetheart.” His long, deep groan, locked up your body, sending you into second, blinding orgasm, loud cry of his name ripping free. He followed you right over the edge, burying his cock as deeply as he could, before spilling inside you.

 

 

Grunting and biting at your neck tenderly, once you both had calmed down a little.

 

 

A pleasant post-climax haze settled over you, as August set you down, pulling your dress into place.

 

 

Hunger satiated, your critical thinking skills reared up again. Many confusing thoughts and questions swirled through your mind. His expression soft when he tried to reassure you, “I’ll answer all your questions, but not tonight, sweetheart. It’s been too eventful an evening already, don’t you think?”

 

 

You nodded slowly, still unsure how he wanted to proceed.

 

 

“Do you want to come with me? Spend the night, at my place?”

 

 

Somewhat bewildered and amused that he had a place of his own, you smiled none the less and pecked his lips, before humming in agreement. Blue eyes sparkling happily at your answer.

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Taglist:

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨