#august walker x female

[eccentricallygothic]

Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them… 

Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.

. . . 

After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.

You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part. 

So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least. 

But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.

Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown. 

It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.

And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.

“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more. 

“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.

 “Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire. 

“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.

“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him. 

“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.

MASTERLIST

. . . 

I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—

[aikaterini-drag]

Inside Your Heart

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Summary: After a difficult mission, August returns to you like a man possessed.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI!!, established relationship, explicit content, piv, unprotected sex, cockwarming, basically toe-curling smut.

“Good, you’re so good to me love...yes, love, yes..." August drawled against your ear, his voice a sensual caress.

You lay half-draped across his body, your hair spilling over his chest. He held you close, one strong arm wrapped under your knee, opening you to him completely so he could slide the swollen shaft of his cock inside you. Together, you moved slowly, savoring every moment of your reunion.

You could only whimper as he fucked you with excruciating patience, reaching so deep inside you that you shook with longing. Again and again he teased you. Staying deep, oh so deep. You felt amazing, but you were impatient.

He had returned from his mission and kissed you with savage need, tearing away your clothes. He’d taken you straight to bed, holding you close, keeping you lodged to his cock while he kissed and caressed you endlessly. He seemed determined to drive you mad with longing, nudging deeper inside you while kissing and whispering against your neck. His other hand cradled your body and cupped and fondled your breast, tugging at your oversensitive nipple.

“August, stop that and move, please,” you wiggled desperately but he remained moveless, rooted deep inside you, his fat dick stretching you deliciously.

“Shhh…” He licked across your neck. “I want to savor you.”

You took a quick breath, your fingers grabbing the cotton bedsheets. “Drive me mad you mean—”

Gently, he slapped your clit and you moaned and squeezed his cock tighter. “I’ll give you my load but only after I decide it’s time.”

“You’ve made me come three times already, August come on,” you tried to tempt him by squeezing your pussy walls around him but he didn’t catch the bait.

He smiled, his perfect white teeth flashing. “I have to prolong it, love. If it were possible, I would have this go on forever.” He delved out of your depths only to give a slick thrust that buried him to the hilt inside you.

You groaned, stars floating in your vision.

He devoured your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth. “Forever inside you while you squeeze and drench me with your love.”

He bent down and took a pink nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling it. His mustache chaffed you. You were red all over from his touches. You gasped when he fondled the other breast, nipping at the bud, his huge palm shaping the roundness of it.

“Now be a good girl and come for me,” he said, his hand reaching down to stroke your clit.

One, two, three gentle strokes and you shattered, your whole frame shaking with ecstasy. He kept you anchored to his cock the whole time, not thrusting, kissing your face and whispering how good it felt to be inside you, how perfectly you were squeezing his cock, how precious you were, how beautiful and loved.

“The most glorious woman in the world,“ he said huskily against the shell of your ear, “my woman, coming hard for me, my perfect little love. Feels good?” he asked, his thumb gently delving across the swollen lips of your sex that were stretched over his aching cock.

You nodded fervently, so blissful.

And then he started to move, finally giving you what you wanted.

His hips undulated, snapping repeatedly as he fucked you in earnest. He drew back, watching as he exited your depths, his length covered in your juices, then snapped back inside. He kept a wicked rhythm. Snapping fast and then slowly, giving you steady measured thrusts that made your eyes roll back in your head.

Head relaxing into the crook of his shoulder, you rocked against him. Grunting powerfully, he grabbed under both of your knees, spread them open and pistoned into you. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and both your moans were only sounds in your bedroom. The scents of salt and sex were thick in the air.

He fucked you like a man possessed, his grunts loud and frantic, jolting your body with each pump.

Locking eyes with you, he buried himself balls deep and erupted, spurting rope after rope of cum inside you. His huge body trembled violently, desperate moans leaving him as he kissed you hungrily while rubbing your clit maniacally. Your toes curled, your eyes closing tightly and you climaxed with sobbing cries. You felt his shaft pumping, the veins throbbing as he filled you to the brim.

When the pleasure waned, he was still inside you, softening extremely slowly. Keeping you locked together, he moved your bodies to the side, his arms resting protectively around you. You winced when you felt the telltale tickle of his seed down your ass. Even with him inside you, it was always too much.

Sighing in satisfaction, August drew one hand along the pale curve of your thigh. You arched back into him, reaching for his hand. Your fingers intertwined, his big and rough hand against your small, smooth one. You played with his palm then brought his hand against your mouth, kissing each finger. He sighed your name and you smiled.

“You overdid it today,” you said, looking back at him. His hair was tousled, his lips swollen—not as much as yours, you guessed—but it was pleasing to see him roughened and flushed from your lovemaking.

He kissed you, his tongue tracing the plump fullness of your lips. “I’m sorry. I missed you.”

“Difficult mission?” You asked, your fingers weaving with his. Sometimes he returned home with the weight of the mission pressing heavily on his shoulders, making love to you like a man possessed.

“They threatened to harm you,” August began, his voice strained. “It was an empty threat, I knew it. I knew you were safe but when they threatened to hurt you, it… it broke something inside me. I lost control. I thought of nothing but finishing them off and coming to you.”

Your heart ached for him. August always appeared so hard and unbending, brutal even, but his heart was gentle and fragile.

Slowly, you turned around. His shaft slipped from you, softened now and he made a grimace, missing the feel of you. You cupped his neck and he squeezed you against him, your nipples brushing his chest. You caressed his neck then ghosted your lips over the pulse of his neck.

“That must have been terrifying, my love.” You embraced him, arms and legs wrapping around him, your fingers rubbing small circles to comfort him. “But I’m alright. I’m safe. Always will be.”

“I know…” He buried his face in your neck, smelling your rose-scented hair.

“I worry about you, too,” you mumbled, trailing your fingers over his mustache. “Every time you go out there, I fear for your safety.”

He gazed at you, his eyes misty, vulnerable. “I promise, no matter what happens, I’ll always come back to you. No mission, no enemy will keep me from you.”

“And I’ll always be here, waiting for you,” you kissed him, smiling. “We’ll face these fears together. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he hummed while readjusting himself, lining up against you. In a swift move, he thrust up, his hard cock surging inside you. Pleasure reawakening, you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“I want to be everywhere.“ Cupping your pert round ass, he sat straight and bucked his hips up. “I want you, every single inch of you.”

You embraced him and rubbed against him. “You’re inside my heart, August. You’re everywhere.”

He kissed you, possessing you. His lips were demanding, brushing against yours, tongue claiming your taste.

This time, he gave you a fast and insatiable rhythm.

“Yes! Yes!” You blubbered as you rode him, your clit rubbing perfectly against him. He fucked you so good and you tightened around him, sweet bliss flowing through you just in time with his release. You shouted his name, not caring about the volume or your desperate moans.  

“That’s. My. Good. Girl,” he panted emphasizing each word with each pump of his seed inside you. “My anchor. My reason for everything.”

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝕮𝖑𝖆𝖞

𝙾𝚛𝚌 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗��𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝙰𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜.

𝙰𝚕𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.

Words: ~1.1k

Relationship: August Walker x princess!female reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (non-con, bondage, manhandling, cum marking), mean August, size difference, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: I love a bad boy so much and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. If I’m going to hell, so be it.

August grinned as he walked through the horde’s camp, holding the head of his conquered foe high and roaring before tossing it to one of his clansmen and instructing them to boil it so he could add the skull to his collection. His blood was still up from the battle, and there was only one thing on his mind. He took a mug of grog from someone before throwing aside the flap to his tent and striding inside.

“Little princess!” August threw his head back and howled with laughter when you flailed against your bindings as soon as you saw him, taking a swig of grog before setting the tankard down and starting to remove his leathers. “Did you miss me, little one?”

“Fuck you!” You spat at him when he reached out to demeaningly pat your cheek.

“That’s rude language from such a pretty princess,” This time he slapped you, licking his tusks lasciviously when you gasped and shuddered. “I’m assuming this means you’re still rejecting my proposal.”

“Of course I’m rejecting it!” You thrashed even more, determined to get free from your bindings even though you had no luck in your attempts during the past few weeks of your captivity. “I’ll never be the mate of a filthy, murdering orc bastard!”

“Tsk, how disappointing,” the way you were writhing and squirming against your bindings was making him hard, as it always did, and it only got better when you screamed furiously as he began to undo his breeches. “It’s not as though you have many options, princess. I just killed another one of those suitors of yours who thought he could rescue you. His skull is going to look rather fine hanging around my neck with those of the other failures.”

That made your already fraught emotions sink even lower, but you were determined not to let him see you cry. There were now four different prince’s and their armies who had tried to take you back from the horde after they had pillaged your family’s kingdom. Every single one of them was dead, along with their armies, and you didn’t know how many more would make the attempt now that so many had been killed. A sense of dread started to settle over you at that thought, but you refused to be defeated. So you just continued to struggle against the ropes that bound you, glaring at him and ignoring the way your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“I fucking hate you,” you kept your eyes fixed on his face while he pulled out his massive cock and started to stroke it over your restrained body. “You’re disgusting and I’ll never be yours.”

“Your stubbornness only makes the fact that you’ll eventually break all the more delicious,” August snorted when you jerked away from him as he gave your head a condescending pat, slapping you instead as his fist kept moving over his cock. “You have no other choice, princess. I’m going to have you no matter what, it will go easier for you if you submit willingly.”

You just snarled at him, tired of telling him to fuck himself and deciding to just try to ignore him instead. It was difficult, though, especially when he gripped your face and forced you to watch as he stroked his cock over your squirming body. The worst thing was that you were getting wet as you kept struggling, and he could tell, a wicked grin spreading across his face when his precum started to drip on your already soiled gown.

August just grunted with annoyance when you pouted and closed your eyes, rolling his own before taking his hand off your face so he could yank at the ropes binding you until they were flung over one of the tent beams so you were suspended in midair.

“Stop, what are you doing?!” You shrieked when he shredded your gown so it fell off you in tatters and left you naked as you dangled in front of him. “You bastard! Put me down!”

“Always fucking complaining. You’re lucky I don’t decide to shut you up by skullfucking you, princess,” he chuckled when that made you finally fall silent as your eyes lit up with terror. “Don’t look so scared, like you don’t enjoy everything I do to you. Remember how messy you got when I broke you in?”

“Shut up… stop it!” You thrashed wildly when he shot his thick cum all over your stomach and thighs, screaming when he grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder so you were spread wide open for him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

He ignored you, smearing his fingers through the thick mess he’d left all over before reaching between your legs so he could rub his seed all over your swollen pussy. His first smack caught you completely off guard, making you wail when his hand cracked against your quivering folds so hard you almost blacked out. But then he leaned down and kissed you and you were brought back to consciousness against your will, gagging at the taste of grog on his tongue while his hand started slapping your cunt over and over again.

His treatment was brutal, it always was, but still your body responded to him. You cried and choked on his tongue as his fingers struck your pussy at a brutal pace, hating that each time he smacked your sensitive flesh you gushed juices all over his hand and trembled from barely controlling your climax. You held out longer than you would have thought you’d be able to, but after twenty minutes there was nothing you could do. August grinned and spat into your mouth when you sobbed as you squirted everywhere, rubbing your raw and sore folds viciously while you spasmed through your climax. As soon as you were done he released his hold on the ropes and let you drop to the floor, laying on his bed of furs and picking up his tankard of grog again as he watched you whimper and squirm.

“When are you gonna admit how much you enjoy this shit, princess?” August nudged you with his foot to turn you over and chuckled when you whined. “If you can handle this you should be able to actually survive carrying my baby. Of course you will be much more comfortable if you’re not bound and restricted during your pregnancy. So why don’t you take the night to think about how much better your life will be if you actually accept a role as my mate instead of just a brood mare.”

You sobbed when he rose to his feet and pulled his breeches back on, leaving you alone in his tent to consider just how miserable you wanted your future to be.

[littlemisscantloveyouback]

August Walker spanking reader for following him on a mission?

And/Or

Henry!Holmes caning reader after acting like a brat in public?

YES YES YES

Stay put.

⚠️: spanking, anger kink [idk], fem!reader x August walker, august yelling at reader, 2nd person pov.

He told you not to go on the mission, but you couldn't help yourself when he found out he was so mad he yelled at you in front of the whole team when you got back to headquarters. You just couldn't take it anymore. You raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

Everyone opened their mouths and shock.

Oh my god did i just slap him?

You thought he looked you in the eye the silence so loud you could hear the birds outside, he dragged you away to his office, he sat you in his chair as he stood over you.

"Whar the fuck why would you embarrass me like that in front of everyone they already think im the little girl of the group, god I fucking hate yo-" he cut you off with his hand over your mouth.

"You're going to go home for the rest of the day, and I swear to God if I see you here, I'm going to punish you harder." After that, he picked you up, gave you his car keys, and put you outside his office. The team looked at you as you stomped out headquarters

Later that day....

You couldn't help but wonder what he meant by 'punish you harder.'' he's never hit you, and he's never been the BDSM type. You continued wondering until you got to your bed and decided to binge and tot in bed until he came home.

After watching almost every boring show on Netflix, you hear the keys jingling in the door.

"Where are you?!" You heard from downstairs

He walked in suddenly, looming over you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow as he crossed his arms. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he glared down at you.

“You think this is a joke, don’t you?” he said, his voice deceptively calm—too calm. “Disobeying orders, slapping me in front of everyone—everyone—and then stomping out like a spoiled child.”

You blinked up at him, feigning innocence, though you could feel the heat radiating off him. “I said I was sorry,” you drawled, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have slapped you if you weren’t such a jerk.”

His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You tilted your chin up, challenging him. “You yelled at me in front of the whole team like I’m some rookie. Like I’m not capable of handling myself out there.”

“That’s because you’re not,” he shot back, his voice rising. He took a step closer, forcing you to lean back slightly. “You’re reckless, impulsive, and you don’t listen. You could’ve been killed.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” you retorted, crossing your arms defiantly.

He let out a sharp breath, pacing the room as if trying to keep himself in check. “You don’t get it, do you?” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You never take anything seriously. I swear you do this just to get under my skin.”

You bit back a smirk, even as you pushed further. “Maybe I do.”

That stopped him. He froze mid-step, turning to face you with an incredulous look. “What did you just say?”

“Maybe I like making you mad,” you said, tilting your head with a bratty grin. “You’re kind of cute when you’re angry.”

His eyes darkened, and in two steps, he was in front of you again, towering over you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “You think this is funny?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

You shrugged, biting your lip to hide the smile threatening to creep across your face. “A little.”

“God, you are unbelievable.” He leaned down, his hands braced on either side of you, effectively caging you in. “You think this is a game? That pushing me like this won’t have consequences?”

You met his gaze, unflinching, your heart racing but refusing to back down. “What are you going to do about it?” you taunted, your voice soft but laced with challenge.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you crackled like a live wire, thick and suffocating. His expression was a mix of frustration and something else—something darker, more intense.

“You don’t want to find out,” he growled.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He stared at you for a long moment, his breathing heavy, his control visibly slipping. “You really want to test me right now?”

You didn’t answer, just gave him that infuriating little smirk that you knew drove him crazy.

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Nope,” you replied, your voice airy as you stared up at him through your lashes.

His thumb brushed over your jaw, his grip firm but not harsh. “You think you can just push me until I snap, and I’ll let you get away with it?”

“Maybe…”

He let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head as his face hovered just inches from yours. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you shot back, leaning in just a little. “Maybe I like the heat.”

The room was silent except for the sound of your shallow breathing, his gaze burning into yours. You could feel the restraint in him, the effort it took for him not to completely lose it. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word—he just watched you, as if waiting to see how far you’d go.

"What did you mean when you said you were going to punish me?" He looked back down at you and got to eye level with you

His grip tightened on your wrist as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You know exactly what I meant," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You've been testing me, pushing my buttons, and now you're going to learn what happens when you don't listen."

Before you could protest, he yanked you over his lap, your body landing awkwardly across his thighs. You squirmed, but his hold on you was unyielding. "Stop moving," he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to learn your place."

The first slap landed hard against your ass, the sharp sting radiating through your body. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching back to protect yourself, but he caught your wrists and pinned them to the small of your back. "No," he said, his voice firm. "You don't get to stop this."

Another slap followed, and then another, each one landing with precision. The pain was intense, but beneath it, an unfamiliar heat began to build, pooling low in your stomach. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, but he noticed.

"Ah, so you like that, do you?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, we're not done yet."

He released your wrists and slid his hand down the back of your pants, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your ass. You shivered, your body betraying you despite your protests. "Please," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I'll listen, I promise."

"Too late for that," he said, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. He traced a slow, deliberate path down the crease of your ass, his touch both gentle and invasive. "You need to learn to obey, and I'm going to make sure you remember this lesson."

His fingers found their target, sliding into you with a practiced ease. You gasped, your body arching involuntarily against his hand. "That's it," he murmured, his voice dark and commanding. "Take it. But don't you dare come."

The pressure inside you built rapidly, your body begging for release, but he kept his fingers moving with relentless precision, never letting you reach that final peak. "No," he said, his voice a harsh command as you felt yourself teetering on the edge. "Not yet."

You whimpered, your body trembling as the tension coiled tighter and tighter. "Please," you begged, your voice breaking. "I can't—"

"You can," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "And you will. Because you don't get to decide when this ends. That's my job."

His fingers continued their relentless rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge, but always just out of reach. The frustration and desire warred within you, leaving you breathless and desperate. "You're going to learn," he said, his voice a low growl. "And you're going to remember."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Did you like it because I loved writing this <3333

[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.”

[kte-alxxndr]

masterlist

fluff smut characters

fic recs

[cardierreh15]

The Lost Prince of House Targaryen

hi there 🖤 hello. Its been a while hasn’t it? Well, I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. It took me ages to finish. Enjoy ❤️

***I do not give anyone permission to copy and/or repost and translate my work!!!

Warning 18+: Cursing , Violence , Blood , Death & Gore , Vivid Depictions of Burning Flesh , Mentions of Rape.

Pairings: Tytus Snow (Geralt of Rivia) x Alyssa Landon (black!plus size female)

Description: When Tytus goes out for his weekly hunt, he runs into a bit of trouble.

Word Count: 5.5K

Song: That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil

The Domino Effect

The boy stood in the midst of an unfamiliar hall. The place was quite spacious, with only a small bit of light flowing in from the windows. Dust floated in the air, a tell-tale sign that no one had been in this room for quite some time.

His little face was smeared in dirt with beads of sweat forming over the bridge of his nose and forehead. His hair was stuck against his scalp, also dirty and sweaty. Covered in filth, he had no idea where he was nor where he’d come from.

The lad coughed and mustered out, ‘Hello?’

With only his echo answering him, an unsettling feeling began to weigh on his shoulders.

‘Mother?’

He called out once more, looking over his shoulders and even doing a full 360 spin to check his surroundings. Suddenly, he heard soft whispers. The voices weren’t exactly approachable and alluring but it gave him hope. Perhaps he’d find answers as to where he was.

‘Wh-who’s there?’

My Prince. Come to me.

The word “Prince” caused him to tense. Only a quarter of a handful of folks knew about who he was. Who was this being that called to him?

His curiosity outshined his fear and caused him to follow the enticing whispers.

Young Prince. The people’s Prince.

‘I-I’m not a Prince! I’m—I’m just a bastard. Nothing more.’

Is that what they tell you boy?

He grew quiet and looked down in disappointment.

Oh sweet child. You are more than even you can imagine!

The overlapping of whispers had faded and in came the view of something the young man never thought he’d see in person. There sat upon countless steps, were thousands of swords fused and molten into one seat. The infamous Iron Throne.

He was intimidated by it as it was a lot bigger than his little mind could’ve imagined. He also felt a lot of things at that moment. Fear, Shock and Excitement all in one.

‘The… The Iron Throne…’

The voice had returned but in singular and easier to comprehend, ‘Yes, my Prince. Yours. Your birthright. Go to it.’

‘Mine?’

Swallowing hard, he allowed this ominous voice to guide him up the stone steps that seem to ascend miles and miles up. By the time he’d made it up to the top, he was now a man and no longer a child.

‘Yours.’

His hair and face was clean; free of dirt, dust and grime. Purely white, it cascaded down between his shoulder blades. He wore black and red royal robes. Red and black scales donned his wide shoulders and arms, resembling the ancestors of his guardian angel.

He stood tall and fierce. Eyes so sure and positive about who he was.

Beside him stood his father and his uncle Daemon. His father held the gaze of a proud mentor while Daemon reflected a gaze of malice and hatred. He was never the type to care about others' opinions of him. He answered to no one but his mother and her alone.

‘Touch it.’ The King requested as he placed his large deteriorating hand on his shoulder. Without rebuttal, the Prince reached down to the armrest, casually allowing the blades of swords to pierce and carve into his skin. He didn’t falter but dug the blades in once more.

‘Sit, my King. It is yours.’ Daemon added on, his voice stern and firm.

The young man carefully pulled his palm away from the armrest and turned to face his elders before sitting down upon the prickly seat. His father took off his shiny crown, immediately unmasking the truth of his illness.

The King had lost an abundance of his beautiful white hair, along with the weight that’d kept him youthful and healthy. Half of his face was sunken, and eaten away by decay; he’d even lost an eye and a hole took place in his cheek, revealing damaged jawbone and teeth.

And yet, Daemon kept his youth and health.

Sitting back against the throne, swords impaled through the young king’s chest and torso, causing blood to seep and bleed into the crevices of the throne. He remained unphased as the throne began to bleed him dry.

Though, he was able to take deep, fulfilling breaths.

The Dead King and Loathing Prince stood in idle as the young man poured his life into who he was. Into who the Targaryens were.

‘This is who you are. You are the true heir, Tytus Targaryen.’

The King smiled proudly before weakly bowing his head. Daemon refused to bow but instead just stepped to the side.

Revealed onto him, were hundreds of not thousands of his people bowing in his wake. Everything seemed so … promising. But he couldn’t celebrate this victory without the woman he adored most. His mother. Tytus searched amongst bowing men and women but to no avail. That was until he’d finally looked down into his lap.

The severed head of his mother laid there. A silent scream left his chest as bloodied tears filled his bright golden eyes. He just kept mouthing, Mama! Mama! Mommy!

The redness in her eyes frightened him so; mimicking lightning bolts on the white orb. Her blue irises were halfway rolled and her eye bags were as dark as her chapped lips.

Abruptly, her eyes had come to be, cutting at him with an unfamiliar yet haunting gaze, ‘Ungrateful.’ She uttered.

Confused beyond measure, his head fell to the side.

‘Morning.’

***

A sudden and breathless gasp had awakened him out of his sleep, with his bright eyes flashing open he could’ve burned a hole into the cabin ceiling. He’d immediately fell into a fit of coughs and heaves so hard it made his chest hurt.

The frantic footsteps had echoed throughout the cabin. ‘Tytus?!’ The woman exclaimed before she damn near knocked down the bedroom door.

With face red as beets and the pleading look in his eyes, his mother rushed to his aid. ‘My son! Are you alright?!’

His head felt dizzy and his chest felt as if his lungs were on fire. He’d closed his eyes to focus on his breathing while he nodded. Finally coming back to his senses, his head fell back against the small pillow as a lively breath left his lips.

His mother, Sondra, had also let out a sigh in relief. ‘Another nightmare?’

He rubbed at his temples, quietly.

The woman sat there watching her son try to break down the meaning of whatever it was that caused him such ailment and grief. ‘Shall I send a raven?’

‘If you sent him a raven every time I had a nightmare mother, he’d never be home. It’s alright.’ He lied. Truth be told, this dream occurred every night. From the succession of the throne to the demise of his mother.

‘Well he is your father, and you need him.’

Rolling his eyes, the large male pulled himself up from his cot, ‘I haven’t needed him for all of these years,’ he snatched the white cotton blouse off of the wooden chair, ‘I don’t need him now.’

The woman sighed at her stubborn son, ‘Tytus. Must you be so mulish? What is the harm in reaching out?’

Tytus rolled his eyes. He hated having these conversations with her about Viserys. Last time he was too busy raising his own family to be bothered with a bastard son. Tugging on his shirt he turned to look at her. ‘Since when you cared so much about what happened between Viserys and I?’

The woman’s lips parted for a second before she let out a sigh. She peeled her eyes away from his haunting gaze. She knew something that he didn’t. ‘Just— it’s important you get to know him as a man, son.’

He sighed heavily and shook his head, ‘I’m sorry mother but he’s a little too preoccupied for me.’ He’d become agitated; thinking about the only thing that his father had given him was a name, the rights to speak in his native tongue and a dragon egg.

One would say he’s more connected to his Valyrian heritage. But that meant nothing when all he wanted was his father to be around. He may have been ungrateful, but he resented Viserys.

But there are two sides to every coin.

He started towards the door until Sondra said, ‘Your father is ill.’

Tytus stopped in his tracks.

‘He had been this way for quite some time. They have been trying to slow up the pace of the illness but—‘

‘What is it?’ He said as he turned half way to look at his mother.

‘It is a flesh eating disease… in the recent raven he’d sent, it’s already claimed fingers… and some of the flesh on his back.’

Shutting his eyes and looking away from her, he’d let out a silent breath. His heart had sunken to his gut causing him to grow ill.

That would explain Visery’s health in his nightmare.

‘Did they—‘ he paused as he tried to gather his emotions, ‘Did he say how much time he had left?’

‘No.’ Sondra walked over to her son and placed her hand on his tall shoulder while turning his face towards her with her free hand, ‘This is why you must make amends. He is your father and you are my greatest gift. You must thank him. I already have.’

‘Why must I thank someone for making me? He cursed me, mother. Us! He is the reason we can’t go out and live normal lives.’

‘Tytus—‘

‘I’ll see what I can do… but no promises. The King had always put his son aside… and I shall do the same.’ He pulled away from his mother’s touch and walked out the back door of the cabin.

Tears brimmed his eyes as his chest began to tighten with a familiar ache. Sure he tried to hold himself together but that news hit him like a ton of bricks. He quickly walked over to the stream and collapsed to his knees. His face molded into something… human and painful. A silent sob ripped through his chest, causing his shoulders to rise and fall.

No matter how much he’d pretended to hate his father, he truly did look up to him. He knew that Viserys was a good man, and part of him hated that of him. He’d just wished he had to experience him more and have more time with him. It wasn’t fair. While all his younger siblings got to know who he was as a man, a father, a mentor and a King; he barely knew him beyond his name.

Hell, when he and Uncle Daemon would sneak away from Kings Landing to see him as a child, they’d never spent more than an hour together.

Jealousy wasn’t enough for the Prince.

‘Tytus?!’

Startled, Tytus dipped his head into the flowing water to hide his face.

‘Tytus?’ A woman called out in confusion, placing her hand over her chest as her free arm held a wicker basket.

He pulled his head out of the water and pushed his wet hair out of his face. Letting out a huff, he rubbed the water out of his eyes and looked back over his shoulder.

‘Oh, Alyssa!’ He scrambled up to his feet and turned around to face her as he pushed his wet hair out of his face. ‘Hi. I—I wasn't expecting to see you at this hour. May I help you?’

Tytus allowed his bright yet mournful eyes to take in the woman before him. Her skin was bathing within the warmth of the sun itself; brown like sepia. She had a pretty, round face with chestnut eyes and full lips. And a smile, that could light up an entire room.

Her thick dark hair was done in two fine twists with a thin gold ribbon fed into the style. They met at the back of her head in an intricate and complicated pattern of a knot.

She had a set large voluptuous breasts that complimented her low cut dress wonderfully. She had a tummy, wide hips and he would assume thick pillowy thighs to match beneath the skirt of her dress.

To call this woman comely, was quite the understatement.

‘I just bought this for you. Hoping that you have not forgotten our proposal.’ She took the handle into her fist and held it out towards him.

‘And that would be?’ He trailed off as he raised a brow.

Annoyingly dropping her arm, Alyssa let out a sigh with a gentle eye roll, ‘Well it’s not exactly ours… you and my father.’

‘So why didn’t your father come have a word with me?’

‘He is busy. He runs an Inn and an Alehouse. Or does your age fail you?’

Tytus scuffed as his brows furrowed in dismay, ‘How old do you think I am?’

‘I don’t know. Something about you says ancient but… I don’t truly know.’

‘Is it my hair.’

‘Mayhaps…’ the woman paused as she rested her hand on her hip, allowing her pretty eyes to roam over this lovely specimen of a man. ‘So, will you do it?’

This woman was impossible. Well, he’d known her for a little while. And she wasn’t always this impatient. Other days she was a sweet woman that made him laugh and made him feel comfortable when he’d go fill up on some ale.

But she was different outside of that Inn.

Letting out a heavy sigh, his golden eyes ripped from her gaze to the basket she held in her hand. ‘What’s in the basket?’

‘Some treats for you and your mother. You know my father is quite fond of her? He would hate to hear that you’d turn down gifts because of your wits.’

He’d rolled his eyes and reached his hand out for her to place his gift there.

The woman beamed with a smile that could cut through thick thunder clouds. It was hard for him to keep up with his immovable character when she shared that side with him. Instead of allowing the annoyance to settle in his features further, he’d returned a small yet kind smile.

‘Thank you, Tytus. You have been quite helpful since you and Miss. Sondra have been around. If you both shall need anything—‘

‘We— don’t need anything, Alyssa.’ He reassured, ‘Thank you.’ He blinked his golden eyes from the basket to her gaze.

The two remained quiet; staring into one another’s eyes as if they’d searched for something beyond.

Alyssa had inhaled deeply as she blinked her gaze away from his. ‘Well, I shall get going, Tytus. Inn won’t tend to itself unfortunately.’ She bowed her head respectfully, ‘Good day.’ She added before spinning off smoothly and walking in the direction from whomst she came.

It had seemed as if Tytus had been involuntarily choking on words because he just couldn’t seem to get them out so he just said, ‘Good Day, Miss.’

‘Alyssa.’

Taking note that once she made it past the cabin, she went left. It wasn’t in the direction of her father’s inn but after she’d left his property, she was no longer his responsibility. Or so he thought.

***

Walking back into the cabin, he took note of his mother sitting before the fireplace staring at his priceless gift.

A dragon egg.

Sondra looked over at Tytus for a second before her eyes dropped to the goody basket he held in his hand. ‘I thought I saw it move. I know he said it may never hatch but, you could never be too sure about these things. They’re creatures like you and I. Stubborn when they want to be.’ The woman laughed heartily as she walked over to her son.

‘I ever tell you about when I was pregnant with you?’

A small smile returned, ‘Yes mama. More times than man could count.’

‘You and—‘ she paused for a second as if she was catching herself from giving away something.

Tytus caught that, causing his brows to pull together as he listened further.

‘You gave me so much pain, I wanted the Gods to put me out of my misery. 10 long months, I felt every bit of it.’ She smiled softly, trying to push her secrets to the side once more. ‘Now look at you,’ she placed her hand on his jaw, ‘My son.’ Her thumb gently caressed his cheek before she brought her attention to the basket once again.

‘Alyssa brought this here for us.’ Tytus said as he placed it in her arms. ‘I have to fulfill my end of the trade now.’

‘Alyssa… What a sweet girl.’ Sondra smiled as she carried it off to the wooden dining table. ‘How is she and her father?’

‘I don’t know?’ He shrugged, ‘She seemed in fair spirits. Her father though,’ he smirked as he leaned against the frame of the door ‘Seems to have a thing for little ladies who tend to be mysterious.’

‘Who? Me?’ The woman laughed gleefully as she tore the cloth from atop of the basket. Revealed onto them both was a full bottle of mead, fresh warm bread, cheese and a jar of raw honey. ‘Ou! What a lovely spread!’

‘Good,’ Tytus sighed and pushed himself off of the frame, ‘You can enjoy it without me. I’ve got venison to catch.’

‘Be careful son.’

‘I shall.’ He called out before walking out the back door once again and went into the makeshift butcher house that he’d built. It was more than just a place to cut and skin meat. It was where he beat his steel and metal into place. Being on the run for 30 odd years, he and his mother had to learn to do things on their own.

That went from properly skinning meat to make pelts, to creating new weaponry that could cut down anyone that disrupted their journey.

But it was also a place of solace. Where he found peace and quiet.

Tytus made due to change out of his house wear quickly and stepped into something more comfortable. There was no telling how long his trip would be. But with his impressive tracking skills and his ability to make a decision promptly, he should be back in no time.

He dressed in thick, patterned leather. Then, he tugged on his boots and sharpened his dagger. Finally, he packed up his quiver nice and full, and tightened the string.

Once finished, he gathered all of his possessions and walked outside to the stables. It was a little bit busier now. The farmers next door had begun to work on their duties and the streets had come to life as the sun ascended further into the sky.

As he embarked on his short journey, the villagers greeted him with smiles and waves. Some even spoke his name: ‘Tytus! Good Morning to ya!’ ‘Tytus.’ ‘Be safe out there, Tytus!’

Children skipped, ran and laughed as they played without a care in the world. A soft smile had formed in his lips but then, he’d remembered that he wasn’t so lucky to experience such a mundane life as this when he was a child. At times, he envied them. These kids who laughed with their whole bodies and asked questions out of curiosity while having the chance to be children…

Not him though. He didn’t have time to wonder what the world was like or make friends.

‘Gardenia… good morning girl.’ He said softly as he rested his large hand against her neck. ‘Miss me?’

The beautiful Friesian mare nickered with joy as the sound of his voice. She’d even shoved at his torso in a gentle and affirming manner.

‘I know. I’ve missed you too. But, we’re going to be spending some time together today.’ He’d placed his dagger in his sheath and pulled on his bow and quiver over his shoulder.

‘We’ve gotten wrapped up in something… a promise that must be fulfilled.’ He spoke to Gardenia as if she was human. Well, he always knew his secrets would be safe with her.

***

Riding with Gardenia always did seem to take his mind off of more dismaying things. Such as his nightmares and his mother’s pompous attitude toward him seeing his father.

Tytus was aimlessly following an unmarked path in the woods. Sure, he’d made the deal to go hunting but right now his mind wasn’t in it. He’d just found out the man who he’d called father was dying from this rare disease. And he had no idea if he’d ever see him again.

His eyes burned with a vengeance as tears brimmed them again. His jaw locked into place as he clenched it hard while his fists held on to his reins tightly.

Finally, the sound of an elk calling brought him out of sunken depths of despair in his mind. Pulling at Gardenia’s reins, she knickered before shaking her head and stopping in her tracks.

‘Whoooa, girl. Eaaaassy.’ He’d reached forth and gave her neck a gentle pat before carefully unmounting. He quietly walked her over to a tree where he tied her up, nice and tightly.

Leaning into her neck, Tytus whispered, ‘I know you hate to lull these units back home. But, it feeds us. Behave.’ He uttered before pulling away and readying his bow. As soon as he turned his back to walk away, Gardenia quickly nudged her snout into his back; neighing and stomping as he stumbled forward.

Catching his footing, Tytus’ nose flared as he took a deep breath and looked behind him with a minacious scowl written on his face. The horse stared at him with an unimpressed glare as her ears twitched and flickered.

Look at him. What kind of man fights with a horse?

Rolling his bright golden eyes, he mumbled, ‘you women are all the same.’

When the elk called once more, Tytus took note that it was closer and that this was no average piece of meat. The way it sounded let Tytus know that it was much more mature than he anticipated from the first call.

Squatting down into the damp dirt, he took note of the human footprints here. They were small and the shape held form, a telltale sign that these were recent.

It wasn’t odd to see footprints in the wood, but for some reason— something felt off about this particular set of prints. But he wasn’t here for that, he lifted his bow and began on his way.

Every step Tytus made was crucial and timed as any step out of place, could possibly scare away nearby food. Or perhaps, invite a hungry bear or a pack of direwolves. Whichever the three, none were wanted. So he stepped slowly, and moved with as much patience as a mother with her rotten child.

They didn’t call him the best hunter in the village for nothing.

Eventually, after so many calculated steps and draws, he’d finally come across the source of the calls. Standing beneath a tree that looked to have weathered many centuries, it grazed on the lush green grass.

Tytus thought this was the perfect opportunity to claim his prize. So he stepped over broken branch and tread slowly, cautiously. He stood up straight and drew his string; aiming the arrow at its ribcage. But something… was off.

His mind kept thinking about those tracks from earlier. Who were they? Why were they here? Were they safe?

With Tytus’ questions throwing off his concentration, he mistakenly released the grip of the arrow, causing it to rip through the air, and spear the tree, just a second above the creature.

Tytus’ heart sank.

But to his surprise, the beast didn’t flee. In fact, its head rose and looked at his hunter instead. It began to emerge from the shadows of the tree, stepping into the sun that caused its coat to glow like snow. Its antlers appeared to shine like solid gold in the sun’s rays.

And unusually large in size.

Under the temptation of wanting to reach behind him and grab another arrow, Tytus couldn’t believe what he was seeing! He was completely frozen.

The Legendary White Hart.

He’d heard stories about this creature when he was just a little boy. But he’d never been the type to believe in fairy tales. As if dragons didn’t exist and he wouldn’t become a formidable dragon rider in the future.

The stag stopped only heartbeats away from Tytus, staring down the mere human. And the human stared up at it, slowly dropping his weapon to take in this godly creature once more.

Then, the creature let out a huff from its nose and turned away, trekking into a path. Almost instantly disappearing within the trees.

Tytus stood there as he felt as if air had been ripped from his lungs. If he’d remembered those tales well, he’d known what this meant. That the Gods had given him their blessing for him to be King… right?

Wrong. Because that’s not what he wanted. Tytus had no generalized idea of what it took to be a King. How responsible would he have to be? All the choices he’d have to make on behalf of others instead of being selfish. And he loved being selfish! Why would he give that up?! For a crown and gold?

Depending on who you ask… it didn’t sound bad.

But that wasn’t him.

At the moment, Tytus was no longer in a hunting mood. He was mentally exhausted after today. All the news and all the signs weighed on him like dumbbells. As he made his way back to Gardenia, he contemplated telling his mother about his finding. But knowing her, her relentless determination of convincing him to see his father, would only get worse.

He’d decided to keep it a secret for now.

Once he’d made it back to Gardenia, he’d noticed that the tracks had been replaced with 3 fresh ones. The wet dirt had been deepened by the weight of heavy boots.

But how odd was it that they didn’t steal his horse? Clearly these individuals were after something more important.

That gut feeling only deepened and now he felt the need to get to the bottom of this.

‘Gardenia… I’m afraid I must leave you again…’

The sassy horse neighed loudly and bobbed her head.

‘I know… something is not right here. And if someone is in danger… I must help.’ Tytus walked over to Gardenia and reached into his satchel where he pulled out a shiny red apple. ‘You do understand,’ He hushed against her neck.

‘Don’t you?’ He continued as he held out the apple in front of her.

The horse knickered quietly before she grabbed the fruit with her teeth, causing Tytus to chuckle softly. ‘I knew you would. I will be back soon.’

***

Tytus didn’t really care too much to be quiet on this journey. He put all of his attention in studying these tracks and what they could possibly lead to. And it could be a number of things.

At this point in the day, the sun had finally disappeared behind the mountains, alerting him that he’d spent way too much time out here and still didn’t catch anything.

But food didn’t matter when it came to protecting the innocent. So he pushed onward until he heard the loud drunken, cackling of men.

Crouching behind a bush, he allowed his eyes to try to study the area from afar. A fire had already been built and well lit. One of the men wore nothing but filthy undergarments. The other two, were fully dressed in their armored uniforms. Tytus recognized those cloaks and breastplates anywhere. Black and Red.

They served the King, under Lord Commander Criston Cole, who’d just taken after the Late Ser Harrold Westerling. A renowned white cloak, who proved to be more than a “pretty” face.

Tytus hated those self righteous pricks.

But these guys… were more dangerous than an average soldier. In fact, they were no longer that. Deserters, which made them all the more dangerous. They had no rules, as long as they weren’t caught… they’d do anything to survive.

The sudden whining of a woman had caught his attention almost instantly, causing his gaze to flicker from the gold three-headed, fire breathing dragon to the woman who was helplessly bound in a pillory. She struggled and wept as she begged the three men to free her.

‘Pl-please! I-I won’t tell a soul… I-I swear! Just please let me go!’

Her voice… that… voice.

‘Alyssa?’ He whispered softly.

Though, he couldn’t confirm it as her backside was facing him. He often tried to be respectful and not look at her that way. He felt he owed that to her father.

‘Oh you won’t be telling anybody… sweetheart.’ The naked man expressed as he took the ale from his comrade.

Tytus growled quietly as he grabbed the handle of his sword. But before he could make another move, he stopped himself. These are three trained soldiers. He had to do this right before it got them both killed.

He watched as that slimy bastard made his way over to her and stood in front of her where he leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Then, he leaned in as if to kiss her.

Tytus watched impatiently before a loud wail erupted in the air.

Snatching his face away, the male’s face was gushing with blood as she spit out what seemed to be flesh, ‘You won’t kiss anyone else you disgusting—‘

She’d snatched his bottom lip off of his face, completely exposing tendons and everything that made a set of lips work.

Tytus hissed at the gruesome sight. He’d seen a lot of things, but this? That was sickening.

One of the male’s backhanded her with his armored knuckles, instantly knocking her out.

This ticked Tytus off, he was over trying to be patient. These men brought her harm and they weren’t going to make it out of here.

As the male’s comrades tried to help him aid the wound and stop the bleeding, Tytus stepped around the bush, ‘Do you all—‘ startling the three men, causing the two men to pull out their swords.

‘Usually harm women this way?’

‘What’s it to you? This does not concern you!’

‘what did you all intend on doing to her?’ Tytus tried to remain as calm as possible.

The two dressed men stood there quietly as their companion tried to “glue” his lip back into place. What an idiot.

‘Do you all know… the consequences of deserting?’

‘We’re not deserters!’

Tytus smirked, ‘Oh yeah?’

‘We—we just got lost! Sh-she was suppose to help us find our nearest camp and—‘

‘You didn’t find it so you’re gonna rape and kill her instead?’

The three men looked at one another before looking back at Tytus.

‘You know what? Yeah. And then maybe we’ll rape and kill you too.’ The three men laughed.

And Tytus found absolutely nothing funny about that.

His stoic demeanor had instantly shifted into something colder and harsher. ‘Not if I can help it.’ Gripping the handle of his sword, he unsheathed his blade and readied himself.

‘Ha! You’re going to fight us? It's 3 of us and just 1 of you.’

Tytus' head fell to the side gently as a small smirk curled up on his lip. ‘You know, you’re right about that.’ Quickly reaching behind him, he grabbed the handle of his dagger and aimlessly launched it in their direction. To his luck, it hit the injured one right in the throat.

The other men watched as their comrade fell to the ground and choked on his own blood. Then, they turned their attention to Tytus who readied himself in stance. They both charged towards him in hopes of defeating this individual. But that hope was short lived when Tytus swung his sword across one’s neck, chopping his head clean off. And slicing the other from across his stomach, instantly bringing him to his knees.

Unfortunately for him, he lived a little bit longer to feel the torturous pain of his insides falling upon the ground before him. Wailing as he even made the attempt to grab at his intestines and try to shove it back into the wound but failed miserably when he’d succumb to his wound.

Splattered blood dripped across Tytus’ face and some even got in his hair. He’d sighed heavily and walked over to the one with the missing lip. He was still choking to death. Tytus’ brows tugged into one as he noticed that his dagger was probably keeping him alive?

‘Well, isn’t this interesting?’

He squatted down before him and flicked the handle, causing the man to gargle in pain. ‘You’re really fighting it aren’t you?’

He tried to speak, chomping his jaws together but it had appeared that the blade severed his vocal chords too.

So instead of watching him struggle, Tytus reached over, ‘Alright, that’ll do.’ And he shoved the blade deeper, finally ending the individual’s torment.

‘To be honest that’s more than what you deserve. Fucking prick.’ He hissed as he snatched his blade out of his throat and wiped the blade upon his pants before sheathing it home.

Tytus took in a moment to take in this mess. 3 men massacred by his blade, and a woman who had been knocked unconscious by the brute force of one of them. In that moment, he worried that perhaps someone would find the bodies here.

It wouldn’t be a good look if the townsfolk saw these slain soldiers. But, he did what he must. And the sun was descending further behind the mountains; illuminating a orange glow in the sky. They had to get back home before dark. Or at least be on their way.

Huffing heavily through his nose, the tall brute walked over to the body that lie hunched over it’s on mess now. Tytus kicked the corpse over, and studied it for a moment. ‘What to do with you…three pigs..’

His golden eyes roamed over the body; a pile of its own intestines lie next to him.

Then, he looked ahead at the raging fire that they’d once created just a few moments before their intruder’s arrival.

‘Well.. into the flames you go.’

One by one, Tytus drug the 3 corpses into the fire and watched them burn; watching as the metal fused with their flesh as if it were becoming apart of them instead. In exposed skin, he watched the flames cauterize and bubble them up until it turned crispy and charred.

He wrinkled his nose at the unfathomable scent. It was a smell, one could never truly get use to.

Finally turning his attention to the damsel in distress, he let out a gentle sigh. ‘As for you…’ he said as he walked over to meet her.

He carefully grabbed her chin and lifted her face. Semi-dried blood stained her lips and chin from her attack on her abuser. Then, he noticed a dark purple bruise that had been instantly cast upon her tawny flesh where that bastard split her cheekbone.

‘Mmm. Your father will have your head for this.’ Tytus murmured before carefully releasing her head. He began to take his blade and slice at the thick rope that kept her bound.

After freeing her from the pillory, ‘Silly woman.’ He muttered as threw her over his shoulder and began his journey back to Gardenia. ‘You did well.’

Random Tags: @megamindsecretlair @ladylaviniya @virgosapphire79 @blackterrae @iwudbutnah @augustsprincess @holylulusworld @xsapphirescrollsx @viking-raider @peternoonewantsthat @littlemelaninfics @goldieccentric @multiversxwhore @targaryenvampireslayer @raccoon-eyed-rebel

[drewharrisonwriter]

No Ties

Henry Cavill x Actress OFC

Summary: You don't do commitments, and it looks like Henry may be down for it.

AO3 | Masterlist

You had just wrapped up a movie with your Hollywood crush, Henry Cavill, not more than a week ago, and now you were sailing in a catamaran across Italy with him and your closest friends, Pedro, Oscar, and Sarah before the press tours.

Your admiration for Henry had been a long-standing affair, something you'd made clear long before you began working together. You'd even cracked jokes during the previous year's Oscars where you won Best Supporting Actress, cheekily thanking him in your speech, despite not having worked together at that point.

With the movie-making behind you, you were finally able to relax with the people who made you feel most at ease, including Henry.

"I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're asking," you told him candidly, causing him to snort and nearly spill his drink. The warmth of the whisky tingled the roof of his mouth and the back of his nose.

"That's not what—"

"May I remind you that I'm nearing my 30s," you continued, adding a playful twist to the conversation.

"I–I am just curious because, you know..." He stammered, clearly wrestling with his words. You understood what he meant; to Henry, you seemed young, and he had no confirmation of any public relationships. You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I'm sorry," he began as you settled beside him, tucking your feet up on the cushioned booth of the catamaran's dining area.

"I, uh... am just curious, you know, and I am not here to judge—"

"Are you attracted to me?" you blurted out with an almost deadpan expression, catching him off guard. His cerulean eyes widened in surprise, and he held his breath.

He remained still in mild shock at your words, and you continued, "Because why else would you be so interested in what I've done in the sack?"

"Can't a person be curious?" Henry tried to play it cool, taking a sip from his glass as you pouted and shook your head lightly.

"I'll have sex with you, if that's what you want. Gladly," you stated bluntly, leaving him with his mouth hanging open in complete shock.

Despite the public knowledge that you were a huge fan of him, likely mentally dating him for years, you made it clear that committed relationships were not your thing. It's just the way you lived, you told people.

You had been a professional singer for over a decade, and your rise to stardom had been meteoric. Each album, each single, each tour was a resounding success. In the past three years, you had ventured into the world of movies and achieved success there as well. 

Sarah once told you that everything you touch turns to gold, and Pedro humorously referred to you as Queen Midas. 

Given the way you were living your life, the last thing you needed was a relationship that could potentially hold you back.

"Did you finally break him?" Oscar chuckled as he descended into the kitchen, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. Pedro and Sarah followed him, removing their sunglasses as they took a seat opposite you and Henry.

Henry took another sip from his glass, suspiciously longer than necessary.

"Did she give you the 'I don't do relationships' spiel?" Pedro laughed, and Sarah rolled her eyes, but a huge smile was plastered on her face.

Henry gently set the glass down on the table, his eyes locked onto it as he seemed to contemplate his response.

"I'm—surprised. Your songs are so... romantic. That's why I asked, I mean... you must have experienced strong feelings for people for you to pen and sing those songs," he finally spoke, his gaze still fixed on the glass.

"Do you want to know her secret?" Sarah asked excitedly, biting her lower lip. Henry looked up and nodded his head with a shy smile. "She writes about our experiences. Not hers..." She giggled.

"That makes sense."

Later that evening, as your friends dozed off in the living area of the catamaran, you found Henry on the deck, gazing at the distant view of Amalfi, a drink and cigar in hand. You announced your presence by lightly knocking on a nearby pole. He turned around and warmly smiled at you as you walked toward him, slipping under his free arm.

Surprised and uncertain of what to do, you guided his free arm to wrap around your waist, and he relaxed in response.

"So what..." He began, "Are we a thing now?" You both exchanged glances and laughed as you wrapped your arms around him, leaning against his chest.

"You could say that. Just let me know if you want to stop, and everything stops," you assured him.

"Is that how this works? What do you do when you catch feelings?" Henry asked with a hint of curiosity. You giggled in response.

"Well, that's the thing. No feelings. Just... fun and company." you stated matter-of-factly.

"I don't know how I feel about that."

"Well, you can start by not telling me how you feel about that." You chuckled and he was smiling, amused as he shook his head in disbelief. 

You looked up at him, and he was already looking down at you, slowly leaning in. You closed your eyes as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and carrying the scent of whisky and cigar—intoxicating. You inhaled it slowly, and his lips finally met yours. You leaned back and loosened your arms around him, tiptoeing to meet his lips where they were.

It was your first real kiss, not something rehearsed for a music video or a movie, where dozens of people scrutinized your every move for the audience.

This was... real life.

"So..." He breathed, "No feelings, huh?" A smile curled up on your face as you shook your head, leaning back in to kiss him some more.

"Yeah. No feelings. That's the only rule." You whispered. 

"Wanna take this inside?" He nodded, and you both made your way back to your room.

"This is not how I pictured our first time would be," you mumbled as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt while he untied your robes. He sucked in a breath as the fabric fell on the floor, revealing everything for him to see.

"Commando, huh?" He looked up at you, a sudden intensity in his usually soft blue eyes. You cocked your head back in a slight laugh.

[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (6)

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

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

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, groping, gaslighting, darkfic, both brothers are not nice guys, mafia au, a tiny hint of fluff, possessive Walter, jealousy, this author has a size kink and it shows

Between a rock and a hard place (5)

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

Walter ends the tour in front of his bedroom. You don’t know what this is all about, because he only showed you around the house.

“What do you say?” You blink at his question, struggling to find the correct answer to his question. “Do you like your new home? I changed a few things, let the maid buy some plants and such to make it nicer for you.”

“It’s…nice…and…uh…huge,” you stammer, unsure if that’s what he wanted to hear.

“I knew you’d like it,” his huge hands cup your face. You feel so small and weak close to Walter and August. “My sweet little lamb. I saved the best for last.”

He lowers himself to press a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips. He claims your mouth like he did with your body and soul.

“OH—” You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, a smirk on his kiss-swollen lips. “You did?” In honesty, you don’t want to know about the surprise he saved for last. It can’t be good. If you learned one thing about the brothers is that they always get what they want.

“Close your eyes,” he purrs in your ear. “Trust me in this, lamb. I know you’ll love it.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. What else can you do but follow his orders? He’s holding your life in the palm of his hand. And his hand is so fucking big it could crush you in the blink of an eye.

“Good girl.” He praises you when you close your eyes and allow him to guide you along the hallways. He stops shortly after and unlocks a door. “Go inside.”

Walter moves his hand to the small of your back and guides you inside another room. He silently closes the door and locks it behind him.

“Open your eyes, sweet lamb,” he encourages you with a soft nudge to your side. “Go ahead and have a look around.”

You open your eyes to look around the room he brought you to. Speechless you turn toward Walter.

“What is all of this?”

“I called our interior designer and asked them to create the room you described on your blog. I even got the fluffy carpet.” He smirks when you gape at him. “You won’t get carpet burn when you kneel for me to suck me off.”

He recreated one of the rooms you had on your blog. A blush and white bedroom. Walter even got a white bed with pink and white bedding, a pink canopy, and a crystal chandelier.

The room was designed by someone who put a lot of effort into details. They used soft fabrics, elegantly curved furniture, and ornate gold mirrors and wall art frames.

“I don’t understand,” you wrinkle your forehead. “When did you find the time to do all this?”

He shrugs. “I found the time to do it for you.”

“I—” you don’t know how to react. Walter allowed his brother to use you, while he was using you like a toy. At the same time, he let someone create your dream bedroom.

“It’s alright, my sweet lamb,” he cups your face again to kiss you greedily. “I wanted you to have a place to come down. August is not allowed inside this room. Only I can unlock it.”

A shudder runs down your spine. This is not a bedroom but a prison.

Walter’s features soften for a second at your pained expression.

“What I wanted to say is, that he’s not going to taunt you in here. You are allowed to leave the room whenever you want to.”

“He doesn’t like me,” you murmur. “If he gets the chance, he’ll hurt me or sell me off to one of your guests.”

“Baby lamb, you know nothing about our dynamic,” Walter smirks. “If I lay claim on someone, August knows he’s not allowed to harm the person. You’re mine. If he wants to stay alive, he’ll not touch one hair on your head.”

“But—” you bite your lower lip, remembering how they fucked you in sync. “You let him have me…”

Walter chuckles as you shy away from his intense gaze. “We always share the good things in life. He’s allowed to touch you when I’m around. But only if I tell him so.”

You press your legs together. Having them both touch and use you wasn’t what you dreamed of on lonely nights. But you can’t deny that they woke a side of you that you never explored before.

“Hmmm…you liked having us both inside of your tight little holes,” Walter cups the back of your neck to steal another kiss. “Remember, you’re mine. He cannot have you outside of the club.”

“I…I don’t…I wouldn’t…”

“My sweet lamb is a secret vixen,” Walter concludes as his big hands move toward your ass to grope you roughly. “How about you decide on what we do next at the club?”

“Me?”

“As long as our VIP guests like the show, you can tell us how to fuck you,” he grins before kissing you again. “Think about it…”

“A pink room,” August throws a tantrum. He reminds you of an angry child as he paces back and forth in the dining room. “What will you do for her next?”

Walter remains silent. He simply watches his brother throw insults at him. “I thought about a reading nook at my office. She could read there, while I fuck her.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks at Walter’s words. He describes how he’d fuck you from behind while you read to him. Walter is shameless.

“Did you even listen to me?” August growls.

“I told you to stay the fuck out of my business,” Walter waves his brother’s words off. “We should talk about the show we want to put up for the VIPs. I want my little lamb to choose.”

“You want her to…” August pants heavily. “You lost your damn mind, brother! Are you insane? You cannot let her decide! We will fuck her ass and cunt and double-team her again.”

“We will discuss this later,” Walter angrily glares at his brother. He pats his thigh, waiting for you to sit in his lap. “I want my lamb to enjoy herself. If she comes with us inside of her, they will go crazy.”

August sits back down and crosses his arms over his chest. He watches you crawl in his brother’s lap with angry eyes.

“You’ll come so hard for us,” Marshal murmurs to lure you into sleep. You sigh and rest your tired head against his shoulder. He pats your head. “Right, little lamb.”

Sighing deeply August gets up from his seat to walk toward you. “I told you to call her by her name. She’s not some pet. Her name is Y/N.”

You flutter your eyes open to watch August stare at you in his brother’s arms. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous you like me more.” Walter narrows his eyes at his brother. “He knows that you’re mine, though.”

“I only want you to treat her like a person!”

“Says the man who wanted to let our guests use her,” Walter bites back. “I protected her from you and all the vultures at the club. She’s my sweet lamb, and I call her whatever I want to. We are still in the honeymoon phase and pet names are cute.”

“Does she call you sweet bear or shit too?” August tries to rile his brother up to make him snap. “Does she?”

You murmur Walter’s name, half asleep. It’s all you can do to calm him.

Walter is all you have left in this world. Your husband is dead, and all that’s waiting outside these walls is pain, sorrow, and debts. You desperately latch onto his attention and the sliver of hope he gives you. False hope.   

August doesn’t stop. He’s determined to make his brother snap. “She moaned the loudest when I was inside of her,” he smirks darkly when you hide your face in his brother’s chest. “Aw, don’t go all shy on me. You were all too eager to suck me off.”

“August,” Walter snarls his brother’s name. A warning to not cross a line.

“Do you have a problem, brother? If so, why did you share your sweet lamb with me?” August won’t stop. He loves to twist the knife if he gets the chance. “Why did you let me ruin her ass?”

“Because you wouldn’t stop annoying me. You shared your bitch with me and wanted me to pay you back. If you do not stop, you’ll never touch her again!”

August snorts. “You will let me have a taste whenever we are at the club.” He puts his hand on your ass and squeezes hard. “Right, baby. You will let your Auggie fuck you good and deep. Maybe I’ll breed your cunt next time too.”

You squirm in Walter’s lap. August’s words go straight to your lower half and you can't fight the wetness slowly coating your panties.

“There you go, Y/N,” August coos. “I bet that pretty pussy can’t wait to get bred.” He cups your ass with both hands. “I let them all have a look at your cum-leaking cunt next time.”

“Breeding bench,” Walter growls. His chest rumbles and you squirm even harder to rub your aching sex against the growing bulge in his pants. “We will bring one to the VIP area and give them all a good show…”

Tags in reblog.

[ladylaviniya]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 2 || MasterList || Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: A new job creates a new problem for August who decides he needs to remind you of his power. You let Lloyd inside, and he has an offer to make.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Referenced Non-Con Events, Implied Illegal Weapon Arms Trading, Threats, Manipulation, Stalking Journalism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Author Notes: in my mind and casting, Jude Driver is played by Adam Driver. Wesley Gibson is played by James McAvoy. Brandon Sullivan is played by Michael Fassbender. Katarina Vikander is played by Alicia Vikander.

Inspiring Song: "Woman." by Ke$ha.

10:23am Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

“These photos Miss Y/L/N, they’re magnificent. I haven’t seen quality this good since…well…never really…When can you start?”

You grinned, sitting across from the head editor of one of the smaller local newpapers.

You knew you had to find a job quickly…you were sick of the employment agency and their unhelpful attitude. You knew if you were going to remain safe and take down the billionaire asshole, you needed to be the best version of yourself.

It had been a three days since you first met that monster... August Walker. And he had seemingly invaded your every thought. He was there in the back and front of your mind haunting and taunting you with his smirking lips and roguishly deep voice.

The gentleman who sat in front of you had no idea. That was something you were okay with, how could anyone know? No one knew. You hadn’t called or replied to any text messages Lloyd had sent.

You made a resume portfolio of your best photos you’d taken since your first camera your dad ever bought you. Both Polaroid and electronic. You still hadn’t forgotten that August had stolen one of your father’s cameras from the day he forced you to cum on the recliner chair.

You knew you were inexperienced in journalism…but your photography was a master skill unlike any other.

Your successful interview, you put it up to a great sense of confidence, as well.

“Right now if you’ll have me,” you winked. He was an older man of an older generation. Clearly he knew and was a deep fan of Australian banter that borderlines the aesthetics of flirtation. You were a young woman and he was an older man, the math was simple. Bat your lashes, pretend to be coy and then slide in with a sarcastic remark or sexual innuendo.

He laughed and leant over his desk. You shook your new bosses hand.

He liked that very much. ‘Of course he would, he’s practically old enough to be someone’s perverted uncle.’

“Oh most definitely…” he said biting his bottom lip, he was milking the banter.

He was a handsome even for a classic perverted elder fellow. John Luther was a grey fox so the ladies might say. You were sure that from now on never to truly trust a man…so when he winked back and looked down your shirt- at your chest, you smiled wider, ‘predictable men…he is going to be easy to manipulate…’

You had to thank August one day…if he hadn’t hurt and humiliated you the way he did…you would never have felt the rage of all women and the desire to use your assets to get what you wanted in this Man’s World.

You sat back a lit and lifted your chest as you gave a big happy sigh while watching Mr Luther continuously ogle your chest.

It sent a shiver even down your spine thinking about it…entering a villainess era…a femme fatale story….a tale of revenge and justice.

“I admire a woman with confidence,” he said sucking his teeth, his right hand slide down beneath his desk out of view. You had half a mind to assume he was palming his dick in his trousers.

“So how about I assign you your first assignment? See how you go? I’ll even let you choose…”

“Choose?” you asked with a faux coyness, fluttering your lashes.

“Well, we have a very interesting story idea in regards to the Woolloongabba Doggy Day care that just moved to East Brisbane, rumour has it that the business is understaffed for the amount of dogs they keep in care. And they only use half of the required sanitization required. A spread of kennel cough and many dogs having their ears ripped off by other larger dogs belonging to rich clients the owner of the doggy day care refuses to lose business towards.”

Oh dear, you noted, that sounded tragic….it’s a good thing you never had a pet as a kid. It would hurt too much to be in that position. Hearing a pet dog had its ear ripped off by savage untrained dogs.

“...And the other case?” You sweetly chirped.

His smile fell, “There’s a certain gentleman that’s running around allegedly smuggling drugs and arm deals…” he repeated, “’Allegedly’…”

He rolled back in his chair to reach for a folder on his bookshelf, flicking through it.

Your craning neck had time to catch the outline of his prick beneath his pants. ‘Oh yes...this man is putty in my hands.’ When he swivelled back, you dashed your eyes back to his desk trinkets and smiled at him.

“A bloke named August Walker selling to or buying from an old money American philanthropist Brandon Sullivan…”

‘No fucking way’….just your luck…

You were going to fucking take it no matter what….

Luther grimaced, “It’s a big task so I won’t judge you for not taking it. I’m just hoping to catch the sons of bitches at it. It would be a huge story for media not even those wankers at seven, nine or ten news could think to report.”

You reached over his desk to steal his pen and stick note pad. You took down the name he mentioned on a sticky note- Brandon Sullivan...you made sure to memorise it well.

“How about we even make those conniving morons at sky news jealous, sir?” You smirked and watched as the rockets soared in his eyes with his white tooth grin.

He laughed hard.

He wiped his hand down his chin, “I love a girl with ambition Miss Y/L/N. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me! The dead line for photos is in a week, he’s having some soiree on next Friday or something so it’s got to be before then because you’re never gonna be able to enter those clubs, chicky. Respectfully.”

You smile and shake his hand again, “Mr Luther, I swear…I’ll give you the best goddamn shots you’ve ever seen of that criminal.”

Now your man hunt had truly commenced, you smiled to yourself. Who knew that revenge could come so easily and quickly…

Luther gave you your own cubicle to work in. A place to hang and edit your photos. A place to file your evidence. He may have mentioned that the work they did in his agency was on par with the police but by no means legally police work. So if the cops arrived, you stayed hidden and kept your fucking mouth shut....

You had a job and began researching the bastards name again on your laptop, compiling the sources from Google and the notes from Luther’s folder files.

You discovered the following about August J. Walker.

He was born in New Jersey. He was twice your age and almost as old as your father. He had a plethora of connections in businesses from alcohol distillery to Chinese restaurant vendings. Actually you were confident that a restaurant he help partnership over had a familiar logo. You tapped your lip and wondered briefly if your father ever delivered there as a truck driver.

August was a fan of European and Asian based foods and sold it at his clubs. He owned over fifteen around the world. One of his biggest in Australia was The Lions Lounge, it was on the edge of Fortitude Valley. It was for the richest social elites of the country. The price of food alone was almost your weeks rent.

On the website of his club you could see information regarding the tightship of his security. It seemed supreme so there wasn’t a chance of you going to his club without a fat purse and invitation.

A party was coming up, a celebration for the ten year anniversary of its opening. A soiree with a “The roaring 1920s.” Theme. You scoffed at the cliché.

It was exclusively invite only, it was only on the website so that those who received a invitation could reply a rsvp. And with you fresh out of luck of an invite like Luther even said, there was little to no chance of clawing your way inside.

So...that’s when you had to resort to extra creativity. You held up the sticky note and smiled.

09:07am Wednesday 14th August 2024, Robertson Brisbane.

August Walker was a man with a craving to remain in power. He had fought tooth and nail to get where he was and for now he felt incredibly comfortable…he had enough money to buy the fucking country...he had the power to make politicians kneel and kiss his shoes if he demanded it. To the police, with his legal team, he was currently untouchable.

He could literally have any woman he wanted…but he wanted you. Since that night he first saw your photo, he starved. He had given you time to mourn. Now you were alone and he righteously believed you needed him.

Yet to his surprised pleasure, he liked the fight and push you tried to dish out on him. Your guts to go to the police sent blood to his cock. He hadn’t expected it. He believed you’d roll over and cry only. He never predicted you’d immediately leave the apartment before he could wish you a good morning or afternoon after leaving you drugged up. He snooped for hours in your father’s bedroom and yours. He’d flicked through your old school reports and photos. He tried tidying your mess and clutter, washing your vomit covered duvet and even had cigarette to pass the time.

So when he received that call from the police requesting his presence, instead of anger, he felt surprise. Not many could surprise him. But you did...

He pushed away from his desk and rubbed his eyes chuckling,  you were definitely a tasty little thing.

It made his dick hard when he remembered you crying beneath him. He loved to fantasise your pathetic excuses and spitfire words. He only wished you’d push the boundary more. The more you fought, the sweeter the submission.

He pulled out his ‘other’ phone. His ‘business’ phone. The phone no police would ever know or see. He swiped his thumb across the screen and groaned at the sweet nude thing he took photos of the night you’d both met. Oh how pitifully adorable you were with your desperate pleas and confusion as the pill quickly broke down into your blood stream.

He wished he had a video of it. How he teased your phone away from you. How he mocked you. Half of it he imagined you probably didn’t remember. After all it wasn’t long that you were totally out of it, limp and softly snoring.

He liked how much control he had over you. Laying the strips over your hairy body and tearing it away to be baby smooth as he liked it. How delicate you looked as he rubbed the baby oil into your skin to settle any potential irritation. Perhaps it was sick of him to prefer you like this. He sighed, licking his bottom lip, staring at the photo he took of your freshly waxed pussy.

He had done sicker things to other people. But you were someone who didn’t deserve this. That is where the guilt lied. You didn’t deserve this and August Walker fucking new it deep in his bones.

He wasn’t shy of hurting innocence but your situation was different. This was personal.

So really could he hold it against you for going to the police? No... And besides...his false alibi had been solid... especially after the rape kit evidence had been tampered with, concluding as inconclusive...

Something about the thought of making you submit but never fully breaking, constantly challenging him- turned him on so much, he found it impossible to work. He slapped his phone down and chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered calling up Natalie, one of his go to escorts. His payable whores. She was expensive but she knew how to suck him off to completion quickly and he wanted to focus on work and finalising the details of his party in two days, not on you.

As fate would have it….he wouldn’t have a choice…the phone rang on his desk.

He pressed the reviewer to his ear and turned to look out the window.

“Walker.”

“It’s Gibson.”

He smiled and leaned back in his rolling chair, “Ah Wesley, yes, how are you mate?”

“You’ve got a little problem, sir,” he heard his public relation specialist sigh, “A tail.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sending the email now,” the click clack typing of the keyboard echoed in the headset Wesley wore,” It seems the paper has started to find better journalists…”

The email notification came in quickly. The ping from his monitor forced August to spin around in his chair. He pursed his lips and scrolled to click the link.

He hovered the mouse arrow down and noticed the collection of photos taken of him in the high class restaurants talking with a old underworld buddy of his. Some of the images however were incredibly exposing. His hand was shaking Brandons in one when he made a export deal with him, another photo showed August’s fingers touching a contract, his eyes looking at a phone Brandon was holding with images of guns. This was not good at all…

“What the fuck…” his hand pressed to his lips, he mused, “The photographer was smart, he knows how to pick a decent angle, Jesus what camera took this?” He clicked another photo, “These details…you can practically see every pore on Brandon’s bloody face…”

His mouth felt dry. He knew he needed to hire Natalie’s services now, the stressed building up had him tense. His erection had vanished, now it was a matter of pain in his shoulders and back.

He scrolled further and stared at the headlines jumping out. “Playboy or Pathological Criminal.”, “Party King or King Pin.”, “Australia’s own insider terrorist.”

His eyes widened at seeing the publishing office. John Fucking Luther & Co. News.

His jaw cracked with the tightness he clenched. No. He didn’t have time for this shit.

“She, sir,” The lackey corrected, “Newest of Luther’s flock. His word usually isn’t credible but this? This is going to be hard, expensive press to erase or cover up. Other news outlets are fighting over the rites.”

She...

He picked up a pen and clicked the button. Why was it even that important.

She...

She? His eyes sharpened. He looked closer at the photos on his screen. Something about the photo style reminded him of something earlier he had seen the previous week. So many….on a wall…beside a bed…filled with a captivating woman he defiled…but surely not you? Surely not you...

“What did you say?”

“Sir the cost to-”

He shook his head and sighed into the phone, cutting of the agent, “No, no, I meant the photographer. You said ‘she’? Luther? Are you sure this is real? His lot are the worst, always blurry or grainy if they’re lucky…who the fuck is this new photographer or editor or whoever the fuck is getting these images.”

“We can only assume,” Wesley mumbled, “You’ve had this little thing on your tail for the passed few days, she tries to be sneaky we’ve noted. We didn’t expect her to release decent pictures…we followed her back to the Luther office. The angles fit the locations we have caught her in.”

His thumb pressed hard against the pen.

“Show me this bitch,” he growled under his breath.

Another email ping and a link later, your face filled the computer screen. Your eyes burned him right back…you were in a few photos. Some where you hid among a roof top, another you were hiding in a corner at the restaurant, and finally one where you were just in a park looking down at your camera probably going over the shots you’d taken.

“Want us to deal with her, sir?” he suddenly heard Wesley ask. Deal with her...Destroy her reputation...beat her up…sell her…or kill her....no…no...not his new puppy.

He blinked with bewilderment and hummed, “No...” He cleared his throat, “No, no thankyou, Wesley. I know this kid; don’t worry…” he smirked, “This is just a simple misunderstanding…bit of…play. Trust me.”

Oh how he could’ve whipped the skin from your back raw for this if you were anyone else...

“Sir, if you can’t get her to stop, if she’s going to keep doing this…” Gibson warned, “Anything more in depth- you’ll wind up in court or prison at the worst, the pigs aren’t taking the pay like they used to…”

August shook his head and sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time Wesley. Ignore her. I’ll deal with it. She’s my responsibility.”

His public relations officer seemed to pause for a moment. As if he had something else to say but he knew better than to total talk back to August Walker.

“Alright sir, have a good evening,” August heard before he slapped the phone, hanging up.

He scooted closer to the screen and scrolled back at the photos you’d taken. He bit his lip and chuckled, shaking his head at your profiling photo, “You little-...you want to play this game? Fine, now it’s my turn.”

He began dialling up a new phone number. He held it back up to his ear and waited for the receiver to pick up.

“Jude mate, I’m gonna need you to develop some photos for me...oh yes,” he replied pinching the pen in his hand, “Red room style.”

06:19pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane.

“Who needs a man? Huh!” You said to yourself testing out the new bolts and chain locks you installed on the front door. They rattled and locked. They didn’t budge when you jiggled the handle and pulled. You still had three more you planned to drill in.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead and grinned proudly. This is something your dad should have taught you how to do. Thankfully with the help of a YouTube tutorial and a bit of bravery you managed to take full control and ownership of your front door.

If your new landlord wanted to charge you for damages to his door, so be it, as long as this kept you protected from him while you slept at night that was all that mattered. He’d either have to pick every complicated lock, guess or, he’d have to hire the damn firefighting crew to use a battering ram.

When you opened the door again to test it a second time, a squeak of surprised popped from your lips. You clenched your dad’s power tool tightly.

A man in a black suit and black sunglasses stood outside the door with an large yellow envelope in his hand. He held it out to you silently. He looked ominous and familiar, he wore leather gloves…your eye widened, he was August’s driver.

You glanced between him and his hands. Every second was a risk you weren’t sure you could keep taking. You hesitantly pinched the bottom of his flat package and he let go. He pulled the edge of his sunglasses down his face, looking at the plethora of door locks.

‘What was his name again? Judea, Judas?’

He said quietly, “It might be better if you open it inside...” his eyes glanced at the door again before smirking, “Nice locks...pretty crappy if you think it’s going to stop him though.”

‘Him...August Walker...’

You stood still in shock. He gracefully spun on his heel and left. Your tongue caught in your throat…what the fuck was this?

The package was as thick as your hand.

You had to know it was from August…I mean who else could it be from? Especially since you speculated it was his driver that delivered it…especially since there was a massive cursive ‘A.J.W’ on the tab of the envelope.

You held your breath and walked hurriedly backwards inside.

Your teeth caught your upper lip. You slammed the door shut and locked all the locks before going to the couch, disposing the drill on the coffee table, and tearing open the envelope.

You pinched the top wide open and hovered your eyes inside. There was a white papery page ripped out from a note book. You pulled it out and unfolded it to read his handwritten warning.

“Careful Puppy, you’re lucky my men didn’t bite when they sniffed you out, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I think you need a break from your little hobby. So I’m going to remind you...I have copies of these. Scratch me again and I’ll bite back. Stay down or I will put you down.”

Your mouth became dry as your eyes raced over that one last line again.

‘Stay down or I will put you down.’

When you ‘put down’ an animal, it usually means death…your insides grew cold. You were confident this was a strict warning, not a threat but a promise, August walker was telling you to stop investigating or he would kill you…

Your hands shook uncontrollably. You wanted them to stop. Your body felt the reeling anxiety. You dumped the rest of the envelope over the counter. All the content spilled across the entire floor. A camera came clattering out. Your father’s camera in fact.

Inside were photos of you. A photo of you working in the editor office. A photo of you walking in the deli section at the underground Woolworths grocery store and photos of you sitting at the Queen street bus station, even the bus numbers showed up. The bus 200 via Carindale. Then at the bottom of the spread out deck of photos were the shots from the night he forced you to cum on the recliner and the night he had drugged you, naked on his bed.

Your teeth clenched hard.

You felt your eyes grow hot quickly with tears. You didn’t like how pathetic and helpless you appeared, covered in tape, and totally lost in the bliss of his sexual torture. You didn’t realise how sweaty it had made you until noticing the intense wet shimmer over your body in the photo, the hot light of the camera shone reflectively from your skin.

You closed your eyes and choked on a sob. He made his point loud and clear but it wasn’t fair. Why could he get away with all of this? You wanted to tear all the photos up one by one until they were tiny papers the size of your pinky nail.

But they sat in a piled collection on your coffee table.

Your hand cupped your mouth as you fought your wails. You clenched your teeth and stomped your foot.

You kept rereading his note. Memorising his handwriting. His Y’s had a straight tail that didn’t curve upward. It made you hate him twice as much as irrational that detail was.

August hadn’t come back since then. He had not made any personal contact since he cornered you in your father’s bedroom. It wasn’t the last time you saw him though…you saw him almost daily, but you confidently were sure he never saw you until now. You were gathering all the evidence possible to put him in the doghouse...

You pressed yourself against the wall and slid down it on your back until your bottom hit the floor.

Now what would you do? Take photos and write about abused animals instead? Always worrying about August coming into your home to take his revenge for the humiliation and defamation you brought to his name?

You settled your hands into your lap. Your heart was pounding. You could hear every awful thud.

Your phone came to life. Lloyds number ran across your screen.

‘Oh god, Lloyd. Sweet, wonderful Lloyd. Maybe he could help me.’

Hitting the green button, you picked up the phone and cleared your throat, “Hey, how are you?”

His voice was a cool balm, “I’m getting on alright. I thought I’d call and check up on you. You haven’t been very chatty over text is all. I still think you should move Y/N.”

Lloyd kept you as updated as he could. He said he interviewed August a few days ago and the excuse was laughable. August had lied about being at his club during the time he had been with you. He had staff members who could vouch for him, Lloyd suggested they’d been paid off and supposedly security footage, all which Lloyd assured must’ve been edited. It was comforting knowing out of everyone, Lloyd stayed true in his belief that you were a victim.

Another tear rolled down your face, your voice became shaky, “Yea...I think you’re right. Lloyd...things have been happening...and...can you- can you just come over please?”

You were breaking down hard and couldn’t stop the wave of anguish coming over you. The detective was compassionate and said softly, “Of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

When the phone disconnected you rubbed your face and flared your nostrils. Seeing the photos made you feel dirty, unclean. You decided a quick shower before Lloyd arrived might help you relax and calm down from the absolute panic attack creeping under your skin. You stood under the hot spray and tried to control your breathing.

And under the water your thoughts persisted to race. A particular question shot through you.

‘Why would he even send those to me?’ Your eyes shut. ‘Why’? If you were just some women, he liked to fuck and humiliate... ‘Then why didn’t he just come in and do it in person?’

It was like a pin had dropped. Your eyes flashed wide open, and you turned off the water. You scrubbed your face and got out of the shower, rushing to put your pyjamas on. You almost slipped on the tiles and hard wood.

You crashed to your knees at the coffee table and spread the photos around trying to find that one.

The one where you were sitting inside the editor building at your cubicle. It had been taken from a low angle on the street. A small laugh escaped you. If he sent you an image of you at the office he knew where you worked, and who you worked for…he had read your articles...a light laugh escaped your parting lips. Tears dripped from your eyes, not from grief or fear, oh no, it was relief. Now it made sense.

'Of course!' August had read your articles...and they- you chuckled; they frightened him!!! Yes, maybe not to the extent of full fear, but enough that he felt it fit and necessary to send these too you. He felt threatened. The articles were piling up on speculation against him now in the paper. You were walking a thin line between defamation and creative liberties in alleged speculations, but Mr Luther assured it was legal in the laws of journalism and gossip.

If August had copies of your lewd rape photos, if he published them…you didn’t care...what was the point in caring about that?

You knew humans could be animals. It didn’t matter what was seen. Anyone can masturbate to anything, even just a selfie – so an image of you cumming on the recliner chair was really nothing at the end of the day…sure you might lose your job but the confidence to get you there would be used in the future again. And it would be all worth it just to watch the cuffs slap over August’s wrist. Because even if he’d never go away, locked up for your abuse, you could at least drag him further down with as many criminal activity charges as possible.

You glanced at the note he wrote…maybe he didn’t even write this. If he really wanted you dead, you were sure you would be. This wasn’t a threat, this was a game. He was toying with you, clearly trying to scare you into stopping any investigations of his hidden underground work.

Little did he know, he had no idea that your rage and hunger for revenge was greater than your fear of him.

You pinched a photo to the light and smirked. If only a week ago, this poor defenceless girl knew how her life would change for good...her eyes the mirror of yours. You slapped it flat in the table and pinched your eyes. August was definitely no talent in taking photos.

You smiled recalling how Luther reacted to the first photo you brought him the third day of working...

02:36pm Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

On the sticky note you’d written down a name Mr Luther had shared. You looked up that name, Brandon Sullivan, with deep dive searches and found very little of him…however he did have a single photo up on his Facebook, he was holding a gorgeous woman.

Once you had reversed search the woman’s face, Katarina Vikander, you could have peed with excitement. She was some Swedish ballet dancer and super model. She was Brandons girlfriend. And she was happy to share a dozen photos over all her social media platforms…and yes, Brandon clearly wasn’t a fan of his personal paparazzi, but there were hiccups in his cover ups.

Katarina had taken a selfie on a balcony; her sunglasses reflected her phone and Brandon coming out of their hotel bathroom.

Behind Katarina was a marina in the background. That area was very rich and popular and easy to find. You recognised the area only by chance. The were staying at the JW Marriot Gold Coast Resort and Spa. You could see the JW Marriot logo on a bath robe in a previous photo while she wore a creamy face mask with cucumber slices over her eyes.

Katarina seemed to have this obsession with a Americana aesthetic, her favourite artist was in her saved Instagram stories, Lana del Rey.

The caption of her post with Brandon hidden in the background under a broad brim hat said, “Sunny and happy with my love, he doesn’t like the seafood here, he wants ‘real truffles.’ **eyeroll emoji**”

You remembered how you sat back after seeing that and searched every restaurant in the area of the Gold Coast region and only one sold authentic truffle dishes…men are fickle and usually won’t try new things…he was clearly a man set in his ways if he wouldn’t let her post photos of him. or at least that was your theory and assumption about the almost non-existent Brandon Sullivan.

You went back and searched August. He had a decent amount of information, he was very private however, no named girlfriends or family. He was very business oriented….and what did you know? Two years ago on his LinkedIn profile you could see August had been at the opening of the same little truffle restaurant nearby where Katrina and Brandon were staying. You scrolled.

‘Looks like he was or still is an investor.’

It wasn’t solid evidence, and you didn’t know if August would be there to meet with them…so all it took, was a simple phone call…and the great skill of confidence with a stride of lying.

As the phone dialed, you selected a fake name. Your co-worker had a F.R.I.E.N.D.S coffee mug, and you stared at the dark drink stain…it’s dark colour making a perfect name.

When a staff member of the restaurant answered you hurriedly got through your plotted lie, “Hello? Yes, my name is…Jennifer Brown, I’m Mr August Walkers new assistant…listen his last employee was quite begrudged and threw out all the known appointments Mr Walker was to attend in the next three months. I’m pretty sure he has a table booked for your restaurant?”

The administrator paused. You hoped he wouldn’t ask you to repeat yourself or question you further, so you sarcastically joked, “He will murder me if I can’t find out, it’s very important.”

You prayed he’d bite the banter.

The administration clerk had a boyish tone, “Of course! Would you like me to look up the time and date of his reservation?”

You smirked and held back a cackle, you feigned a sweet joyful cry, “I would be grateful if you could be a dear, thank you so much!”

And that was how you found out the schedule and exact location of August Walker and his criminal associate.

09:45am Friday 9th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

Getting inside the restaurant wasn’t too hard. It had an open-door area with French doors. You made sure to wear a large sun hat and a plain dress. Your dad owned a small camera, about the size of an apple. You put it on a timer and leant to the floor, aiming the view finder at their table.

The entire time you swore you were sweating bullets. If August had seen you and confronted you, you probably would be chained to a pipe laying naked on a dirty mattress…maybe with those missing women you heard about on the news, Rachel, Stephanie, and Alison.

‘Why didn’t he keep me then? We did he return me back home? Did he kill those other girls?’ the more you thought too deeply on the topic, it made your skin crawl.

You clenched one of the forks, staring at the kingpin in the reflection. He looked to smug for a man that got off on harming women. You wished you could stab out his eyes with the prongs. And when the waiter came around to ask what you wanted to order, you held up the fork and requested a new one, apologising for “dropping it”.

You determined the camera had taken enough footage. You knew you’d need to make your escape when the waiter left to find you a new fork. Afterall- who can afford to pay for a cut of salmon with rocket leaves and white sauce for a hundred and thirteen fucking dollars?

You went straight home on the train and bus. You developed the photos in the bathroom sink. Hanging it up on the shower rails to set.

Those were the first photos you gave Mr. Luther.

The other times you took photos of Brandon and August were harder, a little more risky.

06:23am Saturday 10th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

You had staked outside of the hotel where Brandon stayed. Waiting across the street in a side street. It was cold and miserable. But you knew August would be down here. Darling Katarina had posted a photo of her shoes in an elevator, beside her feet were Brandons shoes, but his had a shine. You could see the blur of Augusts moustached face. Maybe it was a reach, except when the caption said, “Lions Lounge anyone? Don’t my heels look incredible! **love heart eyes emoji**”

You were dressed in rags, you clenched a juul stick you bought that morning, gagging on the watermelon flavour while you practiced your “Eshay” accent. You stared up at the windows trying to guess which room the three were in with the help of the ex-ballerinas photos.

A month ago, you would’ve thought doing something like this was insane and frankly unhealthy. But you a month ago had not been humiliated and manipulated, God knows what a woman will do once you’ve pissed her off…was it obsession? Most definitely, for revenge, for justice, for all the girls who fell for August and harmed by his reputation.

You waited…and you were right. Brandon and August walking out together. The sweet young woman was clinging to Brandon’s side with a wide girlish smile and love heart shaped sunglasses. Funnily enough, the car that picked them up just so happened to be driven by the same dark headed driver in the same black car that August took you in. You took a snapshot of the license plate and watched it drive through the somewhat slow traffic down the street. You walked and walked, keeping your eyes set on the license plate. While traffic rolled, you turned and noted there were a few empty taxis.

You took off the jumper that you cut a bunch of holes in and dumped it in a garbage bin before bending down and tapping on one of the taxi windows.

“Hey! Are you available to drive me?” You called to one of the taxi drivers that hadn’t noticed you until that second...his eyes widened with surprise before nodding, “quickly, traffic is slow, hop in!”

You slid directly into the passenger side, which on a normal day you’d never dare.

But today wasn’t a normal day. You sat up in your seat and scrolled the area with your eyes.

“So where are we headed today, ma’am?” The driver asked.

You pointed ahead with a cheeky smile, “See that black car? The fancy one.”

“The tesla?” He asked.

“My friends are in that car, so please follow it. They know the way.”

He peered at you curiously, you knew it was stupid. If you had friends rich enough for a tesla, they’d never leave you to find a taxi. But hey…money is money, the driver wouldn’t argue. He started the timer and to your satisfaction traffic picked up. When they zoomed through the street the taxi tried to keep up. They were driving to a quieter street with Western Europeanised cafe’s.

As they stopped and hoped out you quickly requested to the driver, “Do you mind going around the corner? I’m a little embarrassed.”

God, you hated to say it but you had to play the suddenly snobby cunt.

He didn’t care either way to your relief and parked around the corner, metres away from the two men.

You paid the driver handsomely with cash you managed to find in your old piggy bank back home and slid out of the cab. Your face carefully looked around the corner and you skirted back. August, Brandon and Katarina had decided to sit outside in the warm morning sunlight. It was just your luck! Quickly, you crossed the street away from the cafe. The more distance the better.

To your luck it was a block of units across from the cafe. You walked around the building and kept your head down. You came up behind in an alley and smiled at the long spiral stairs that went up to the roof top. The adrenaline extinguished all fear of heights and pushed you up until you stood out on a flat roof. You crossed the way and looked over the side.

‘Fuck’, you thought to yourself. ‘Would a police officer ever do this? Would Lloyd ever have the guts to do this?’

Probably not, there was lots of red tape involved in police investigations...but you were just a reporter...You were a photographic investigator and you amazed yourself at the lengths you were taking. You were eager to get these shots. This evidence.

You saw the pair of businessmen receiving a cup of tea and breakfast meals from the waitress. Getting down onto your tummy, you grabbed your camera and leant over the ledge to zoom in on the two.

The pumping blood roaring in your vein filled you with a mixture of fear, excitement and surprisingly…arousal.

Those were the photos that made it to the papers first.

06:35pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba Brisbane.

As you reminisced on the evidential demise of August Walker, a knock at the door designed a bigger grin across your face. Lloyd had arrived. And no longer standing in a fit of sobs you welcome him cheerfully at the door.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks, totally out of uniform. Below his eye was a reddish spot. It was shining against his pale face. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was a bruise.

‘Many police are brutal and cruel but there’s no way Lloyd is one. He isn’t one of those cops...he must’ve been attacked by some bogan eshay or crackhead.’

His smile turned your knees to warm jelly. You felt shy like some first year highschooler being noticed by the seniors. He just had this glow around him.

“Hi Lloyd.”

“Hello there,” he said softly, his head cocked to the side, “Do you mind letting me in?” He asked.

‘Oh right.’

“Come- come in.”

You felt your face grow warm. You opened the door wider and looked out and down the hall. You held your breath and stood aside. The tall man slid passed you inside to your lounge room.

You took a massive breath in and exhaled. No one was waiting behind a corner or ready to catch you with the officer. You knew there were no security cameras and you doubted August would ever add any with his reputation.

Lloyd removed his leather shoes and placed them beside the door. His black socks glided over the hardwood.

You bit your lip…you looked back at the coffee table and quickly shut the door, bolting the locks after the detective entered your flat.

If August knew you were letting a detective inside, continuing to talk to one he could-…’Well, hold on...how would he know? He wouldn’t.’

“Woah, locked me in, what are you doing?” Lloyd gasped as he glanced over the metal mechanisms of your door. His eyes widened when you twisted the locks and shifted the small chains.

“I just...um. August Walker.... he’s kinda now...my new landlord and he probably will be getting keys soon and I....” your breath wavered. You paused and took a deep breath, “I needed to talk to you privately in person I think....”

His eyes didn’t grow any wider, but his pupils shrank. He pinched his dark pink lips. Sucking his teeth loudly he nodded slowly.

“That’s definitely a pickle you’ve been put into then, huh?”

You nodded back, pressing yourself against the door, sighing softly, “That’s not even the half of it Lloyd...”

His eyes raked up and down your body in surprise. You weren’t wearing your bra and your nipples were rock hard. Your pyjama bottoms were very short and little did you realise how much they were riding up your thighs.

You walked around him timidly to the coffee table.

“I got a new job, as a photographer journalist, no real experience required just my luck honestly,” you awkwardly laughed, “August um, he’s supposedly up to no good and I thought I could have a jab at him from a professional angle…”

You sat yourself in the recliner, while you invited him to sit opposite of you on the couch where he’d be able to properly look at all the photos.

He looked frightfully tired. His hair was dishevelled, and his shirt was stain with sweat. He had a nasty purple bruise on his knuckles that also matched the one under his eye.

You lifted your knees to your chest and worried about how much trouble this man was getting into as well as you. You wondered if it was like television shows where detectives mostly focus on the darkside of the force.

You gestured to the photos. You weren’t sure how he would react. He sat on the couch and peered across the coffee table, glancing over the images. It took him a few seconds before a gasp of shock ripped from his throat.

You tapped on the photos where you’d been stalked and seen taking photos of August, “Well, it shows he’s not one to have his photos taken...”

He was shaking his head. He couldn’t stop staring at the nude photos. And for a few seconds you relived that feeling of embarrassed humiliation.

You could see how his throat bobbed and his eyes flutter.

He leant forward on his knees and licked his lips.

“I...and here I had called you to check up on you and I was going to ask you for help Y/N, but god I don’t know if that’s gonna work now,” he sighed.

The detective ran a finger across your face in the lewd photos.

Your eyes narrowed, “Wh-what do you mean?”

There was a lengthy pause.

He chewed the inside of his cheek before asking, “How much do you hate what August did to you?”

You didn’t hesitate, “I’d kill him for what he’s done if I knew I wouldn’t go to prison…” you briefly looked down, “He…he came back like you said...”

Lloyd eyes glanced down too and he sighed, “Thought as much…let me guess…he threatened you?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, August had done more than just threaten you.

You nodded slowly, “He…he did…but he…is possessive, he kept saying I was his and I belong to him.” You pointed to the photo of you taped up on the recliner.

His brows pressed together, his eyes saddened. He clear his throat, “How long ago was that?”

Your mouth grew dry. You felt embarrassed telling Lloyd.

“The day of the report, after you brought me home.”

His eyes widened, his hand rubbed his parted lips, “So he ugh…he was here already?”

You nodded again, “The call you made… he was standing right here with a knife in his hand.”

“That’s why you have those deadbolts huh?” The officer rubbed his eyes and groaned, “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me after he left? I could’ve moved you, you could’ve stayed with me at least until I could put you into witness protection. Fuck!”

His swearing sent a shiver down your spine.

Your looked at your feet, you knew he wasn’t victim blaming, he just didn’t understand. You told Lloyd everything…confessed like he was your priest. You told him what August did with the vibrator despite it bringing you to tears again. You told him he was the new landlord and that’s why you installed the extra locks. You told him about your new job and you told him about the photos and how you were going to help however you could to put the bastard away.

You sat off the recliner and slid the photos back into the envelope.

“You’re very brave Y/N,” Lloyd whispered, he reached out and laid his warm hand on top of yours.

Your belly felt warm at the praise. You let him hold your fingers in his and rubbed his thumb over your skin. You stared at his blonde moustache and those bright clue eyes of his. You imagined his mouth scratching your lip if you only leant in closer...he was still as handsome as the day he patiently listened to you in the report.

Lloyd smiled softly.

God if you were a cat you would’ve been feral and in heat with how creative your imagination was getting.

Your eyes fluttered as your entire body warmed up.

“Y-You said you needed help with something?”

He smirked, letting go of your hand.

He claimed, “After what you’ve told me I’m confident you can do it...but you might not like it…”

“Try me,” you huffed, falling victim to his contagious grin.

“I have two tickets to August’s little Soiree at his club The Lions Lounge,” He started off, “My other sources have confirmed there is going to be some form of arms deal with some unsavoury company, illegal, unregistered weapons. August Walker is very good at knowing the law and requesting a warrant… but the sources I have are not substantial to the board to guarantee a warrant by that night and by that time Walker would’ve moved the weapons and sold them in a different location.”

You pieced it bit by bit.

“So you need to get inside the party, find the deal going down and bust them?”

“Exactly, that’s right! However the moment a single man waltzes to the front door it looks suspicious. I need a lady on the arm…and better yet…I need a distraction for Walker, if he sees me head on, I could be as good a shark chow.”

Your eyes lit up, it didn’t take a genius to realise he meant you. You would be the distraction. And you’d be damned before you put yourself in real danger again especially after the threat August had given you...your photos were taken in public, this would be in private. Anything could happen to you.

“No… that is too dangerous, Lloyd,” You stood up and paced the floor in front of Lloyd who was now also rising to follow you in your pacing. You walked around your kitchen and Lloyd put his hands on the bench beside you.

“Y/N…” he bent close in a whisper. You wouldn’t look at the detective. Fear was buzzing inside of you. You felt stupid about saying you’d do anything to take August Walker down now. You really wanted to just humiliate the man and call him up in prison one day and rub it in his face. But this? This was a game of cat and mouse and you didn’t want to be backed up into a corner again.

“I wouldn’t be asking you if this unless I had to...”

You bit back the whimper in your throat as Lloyd touched your shoulder gently.

“He let you live…he has a soft spot for you.”

‘He threatened to put me down.’

He turned you around and squeezed your arms while he pitched the plan, “What’ll happen is we enter the club, I find the dealers and you find Walker because he will be hosting the party, he will want to know why you’re there and you are going to tell him that…you wanted to see him.”

You rubbed your eyes angrily, “Why the fuck would I want to see him?!” your fingers felt moist, you’d been compelled to tears.

The kind eyed detective sucked his teeth, “I don’t know, make it up. Kiss him. Men don’t care about a thing once a pretty thing is kissing them.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. No, this wasn’t the Lloyd you had imagined.

“Oh,” you chuckled sourly, “So you’re pimping me out then?”

He gave you a dumbfounded look, “Call it whatever you want…you’ll be paid good money for your service and he’ll be arrested, in prison, unable to touch you. You can run away and move to wherever you want then.”

Your breath was shaky as you dared to ask, “How much?”

His left brow rose.

“How much would I be paid by the Queensland police or Australian defence department or whoever this is through?”

He sighed and gently laid a hand on your shoulder, “Around fifteen grand.”

Your breath escaped you. From near negatives to fifteen grand overnight? That much? For this job?! You were stunned…not sure if it was worth your life…but if it meant he only humiliate you one more time and you walked away with that much money…you’d do it.

You shook your head, “Fine, it’s this Friday night yea? His club is high-class and I don’t have clothes for that type of event.”

The tall man stood back and chuckled as he tug into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pinched a wad of cash and slapped it in the benchtop. Your eyes widened, holy fuck it was a month or two in rent alone…

“Go buy some. But you have got to be ready. At Seven o’clock I’ll pick you up an hour before the event and we can refresh what we know before we line up.”

You glanced between him and the money and nodded….”Alright, let’s…let’s do this.”

He laughed and clapped his hand excitedly, he leant in and gave you a fat kiss on the cheek. Nothing romantic, just pure joy.

“Thankyou so much Y/N you are going to be hailed a hero, a legend in my books!” He marched back to the couch and grabbed his blazer.

“You are a special person and I’m honoured to have met you! Really honoured!” He said as he unlocked all your bolts. He swung the door open and slammed it behind him.

You sighed and fell back against your cold fridge.

You weren’t sure you could pull this off….but as your eyes looked over the cash, the corner of your lips lifted.

You shut your eyes and sighed…all that money, it made your blood pulse. You returned to the lounge room and sat in the recliner. You laid back, staring at the ceiling. Your hands crawled down, passed the waist band of your pyjama shorts and underwear. You touched yourself and sighed.

Your fingers rubbed delicately against your clit while you leant against the kitchen bench.

You tried to imagine someone...Lloyd…the detective. He had a warmth his face. Lloyd would never rape you though, he was good, he was honest…

You moaned softly, imagining his warm hands groping your skin and his lips kissing your skin.

Fingering yourself, in and out, in and out.

You were imagining Lloyd speaking to you. He was currently the most attractive man you’d made contact with in weeks...other than August who essentially raped you.

What kind words would Lloyd say? “I washed our clothes, finished the dishes, now come here and let me fuck you.” ‘Oh yea that’s fucking hot.’

You imagined he would be gentle and soft before using more strength in his hips. His lips would be soft and hot. He would protect you and play sexy policeman. You might not have been a fan of the justice system but you were confident Lloyd would fill in a police uniform very well.

So why did your body start to dry up?

You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were riding your fingers and teasing your clit…why couldn’t you cum? You felt weird doing this now. It was strange to think before you met August you could cum very easily, after your dad- well you hadn’t touched yourself because you weren’t thinking about sex for a while until the millionaire stepped into your life.

After the third time of unsuccessful release, you punched the arm of the chair and started searching sex toys on your phone.

You weren’t totally sure if the prices were worth it for a piece of painted pink silicone. And there were strange shapes you were amazed were even designed to fit into a human….‘a whole fist? Surely that’s satire,’ you thought, ‘it shouldn’t be possible. It would be like reverse birth?’

You settled on buying a “rabbit dildo with thrusting pleasure.” You rolled your eyes at the name. You slapped your phone down and sighed, rubbing your eyes.

The hour was late.

Your first paycheck would be coming in soon. It was the smell of a small victory.

10:33am Friday 16th August 2024, Queen Street Westfield Shopping centre, Brisbane.

“What should I wear…” you hummed as you flipped through the dresses. Some of these dresses cost the amount of a new iPhone. You bit your lip. ‘Maybe I can return them tomorrow and give Lloyd his money back?’

A sales clerk came up, “Need some help?” She was blonde, curvy and tall. A supermodel compared to your body. You blushed.

“I’m looking to wear something to one of the high end clubs like The Lion Lounge, he’s having a nineteen twenties theme soiree this evening?”

Her lips widened, “Well, we do have many suitable gowns and even pantsuits for that social class, what designer were you thinking?”

You balked and worried that she would see you sweat, “Oh…I um…I’ll be super frank…I have not a clue what I’m doing…it is my first time to something so spectacular.”

The clerk’s eyes softened, her lips pursed, “Well! Let me help you then! These gowns you’re looking at are definitely not old twenties glam worthy! Right this way!”

Your cheeks buzzed as you were led into a dressing room and made to try on multiple styles, designers and colours of dresses.

She asked if you were getting your nails done and gasped when you said you hadn’t thought about it.

She was like a fairy godmother. She went the extra mile to call up the other stores in the mall to book appointments. You hadn’t felt so pretty ever in your life until then

She appeared stunned by the cash you laid on her counter.

Your nails were french tips with a holographic clear coat. You received a quick arm and leg wax and eyebrow shaping. The makeup matched the entire outfit. Your dress clung to your best assets and shaped your body with a clutch purse and low heels to match. Your hair was gelled and hairsprayed down into finger waves. And a lather of pearls circled around your throat and wrists.

The long finger of your dress tickled your calfs down to your small kitten heels.

You looked incredible, it took your breath away to see the glow up….

Lloyd thought so too.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[eccentricallygothic]

Liability (Teaser)

Description: When you nearly compromise The Organization on a job because of your impulsiveness, your boss August Walker decides it's time for a demotion, since you clearly still have much training ahead of you.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own August Walker or any of the other Henry Cavill characters that will be mentioned. This will be a mature and morally gray story so browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Mafia Boss!August Walker | Hench(wo)man!You.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, m!dom, f!sub, the relationship is probably morally gray, slapping, throat fucking, power imbalance, pet names, mild gun play, he's mean.

Status: Complete.

Note: Click on the status to be redirected to it <3

[aikaterini-drag]

Shower Ride

Pairing: August x fem reader

Summary: your boyfriend Augusts gives you a shower ride 😉

Warnings: 18+!!,minors dni, explicit smut, fingering, oral male receiving, p in v sex, cockwarming at the end.

It was a quiet night, the city sounds muffled from your apartment.

Walking on tiptoes, you made your way to your boyfriend’s office. You peeked through the half-opened door, and even though he was deep into his work, August, being the agent he was, seemed to sense your presence. He gave you a soft smile before returning to his laptop.

He remained at his desk, completely absorbed in analyzing the profile for one of his upcoming missions. He had been at it for hours, poring over details and taking work calls with his team. Coffee after coffee, he had barely eaten, and only finished the sandwich you had made for him an hour ago because you insisted.

He looked so dangerously handsome. Sitting so big and towering in his office, making the space seem so small with his broad shoulders and possessive presence. His physique was honed from years of intense physical training and demanding missions.

His eyes, those piercing blue globes were focused on the laptop screen, his long fingers typing away. A few strands of dark hair fell across his forehead. His jaw was tight, chiseled jawline sporting a shadow of stubble along with his mustache.

August still wore his perfectly tailored dark suit though he’d loosened his tie and discarded his blazer. The crisp white dress shirt was undone by a few buttons, revealing a hint of curls on his chest.

“I’m going to have a shower,” you said, hoping to tempt him away from his work. He’d done so much; he needed a break, a rewarding fuck and some well-deserved sleep.

He didn’t look up from his laptop. “Hmm.”

With a soft grimace, you headed to the bathroom and slipped off your clothing. You’d have to work harder on your seductions skills. After taking a shower, you’d try again—maybe slip into some sexy lingerie and surprise him at his desk.

You stepped into the shower and turned on the taps, adjusting the water temperature until it was just right. Standing under the warm spray, you closed your eyes, letting the water soothe your tired muscles. Lost in the relaxing flow, you didn’t hear the door open, nor sense August as he slipped into the shower with you.

And, damn what a sight he was. Fully naked, tall and bunching with muscles. His hands were etched with veins, his stomach flat and chiseled, his thighs thick and powerful. And in between his legs, his rigid cock protruded almost angrily, so hard and long that it reached up to his bellybutton.

Your belly gave a little somersault, your inner goddess satisfied.

You smiled. “You know, you really need to stop sneaking up on me. It’s kind of creepy.”

August chuckled as he closed the shower door and stood behind you. “I’m sorry, love. I was so focused that I barely heard you. By the time I did…”

“You’ve done too much work today. You must take a break.”

He beaned in, his breath warm against your neck. “You are absolutely right.”

He trailed kisses down your neck, his hands traveling over your arms, thighs and your belly before cupping the weight of your breasts. He cradled them in his palms, thumbs toying with your nipples. You leaned back in his chest, taking deep intakes of breath.

“I didn’t give my girl much attention today. I need to make it up to her,” his deep voice rumbled, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Hmn.” You hummed but he turned your head and claimed your lips in a kiss. His tongue explored your mouth, warm and probing as it swirled around yours.

He nudged your legs apart with his knee, and you complied, spreading your thighs. “That’s my good girl.”

A finger teased your pussy lips, rubbing round and round and you couldn’t help but moan against his mouth. He still kissed you, while he gathered with your slickness, toying with your clit. Rubbing, tapping, curling and then penetrating you with a thick finger. He did it over and over again.

Your knees wobbled, and he steadied you with a hand around your waist as you climaxed, mewling and gasping in bliss.

“That’s it,” he drawled, his finger pumping gently in your sensitive walls. “Sweet pussy drenching my fingers.”

“Want you,” you muttered, your head a little fuzzy.

“You have me—”

“Want to suck you.”

“Then suck.”

All you could do was whimper and get to your knees before him. August turned off the taps, and moved away your wet hair from your face. One hand cupped his heavy balls while the other pumped his turgid cock. Your tongue travelled up the length of it, following a rigid vein up to the purple tip. Groaning, he lowered his knees so you could reach him better, his hands running up and down your sides.

“Open.” His command was husky.

You opened your mouth and hollowed your cheeks as he slid down your throat. The head touched the back of your throat and you shallowed hard to stop yourself from gagging. He was too big, but he had trained you to take him deep, as deep as possible. Taking deep breaths from your nose, you cupped the cock that didn’t fit and toyed with his sack.

“That’s it. Get me nice and warm, baby,” he said darkly, his fingers pinching your nipples.

August’s hands fisted in your hair, pulling back the entire length of his dick. You licked a wide stripe up his dick then took it back inside your warm mouth. Making correct eye contact, you worked your tongue, and relished in the sight of your man so deep in pleasure.

With only your mouth around him, you had him under your control. With a surge of arousal, you sucked him in earnest, your hands digging into his flexing hips. Lewd sounds encased the shower until he was so out of his mind with pleasure he had to jerk your head away.

He pushed you to your feet and pressed you against the cool tiles, lifting you against his hard body. Your legs wrapped around him, arms locking around his neck. He lined his cock, you were so slick and ready that he surged upwards in one smooth glide. You shut your eyes at the overwhelming stretch and the fullness of him inside you.

“My perfect pussy.”

“My perfect cock.”

He smiled before pulling your mouth to his.

From there on, you lost track of time. You could only feel his steady pumps and the hard girth of him pounding into you. You could only hear his feral growls as he grabbed your asscheeks and thrust you up and down on him, making you take him deep, deeper still.

You moaned without end, running your fingers down his hair, digging your nails into his back and running tongue over his throat.

His thrusts were in perfect sync, sharp and hitting that sensitive spot inside you.

“Oh, like that.” Your heels dug into his tight ass. “D-Don’t stop.”

August didn’t stop, he kept going in the exact same rhythm, changing nothing.

Sweet death. You came hard around him, blabbering his name, crying out incomprehensible sweet words. He followed right after, tensing balls deep inside you, pumping his load inside you with wild abandon.

“Fucking hell.” He sighed against your breasts. “That was so fucking good.”

“Fucking hell indeed.” You grinned, caressing his nape.

“Want to fuck you all night,” he mumbled, taking your nipple into his mouth.

“I want that, too.”

“I must bathe you first.” Holding onto your thighs and keeping himself deep inside you, he sat back on the marble shower seat.

“We’ll bathe? Like this?” you asked incredulously. “You can’t keep me lodged to your cock, August, seriously—”

August grinned and slapped your bum lightly. “Quiet.”

“Cockwarming lover.”

Bringing one hand to cup the back of your neck, he claimed your lips. You moaned against him, rubbing your nipples against his chest. Unintentionally, your hips moved against him, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone.

“Such a demanding woman,” he drawled against your lips, one corner of his mouth turned up.

“Shut up.”

“Who can’t have enough of my dick now?”

You didn’t manage to answer because he took your breath away with his touches, thrusting and rubbing until the both of you gasped into each other’s mouths and came once again.

[pascaloverx]

DANGEROUS

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: You are a retired spy trying to live a normal life. Some time ago, a hired assassin named Tangerine tried to kill you. In response, you sought the help of an old acquaintance who could fake any death, August Walker. However, now your false identity is in jeopardy, along with your life.

Warnings: For now, the fanfic will not contain explicit content, but it will be flagged if it does in the future. However, there will be the use of strong language and moderate violence. Readers are advised. The characters August Walker and Tangerine do not belong to me but to their respective creators. Some other characters that belong to both Mission: Impossible (2018) and Bullet Train (2022) may appear in this fanfic. Other characters who are not part of these movies will be of my own creation. I hope you enjoy the reading.

AO3 link chapter two

A dark night, too dark for your liking. You're the kind of person who prefers light to darkness, but life has taught you to adapt to your surroundings. Trained since adolescence, you became a great spy. Perhaps too great. One day, someone tried to kill you, and they almost succeeded. To this day, all you know about the hired assassin who nearly ended your life is his nickname. That's because he told you to thank the kindness of the tangerine or any other citrus fruit when you were in a hospital bed fighting for your life. In the end, he helped you. In order to disappear from the radar, you turned to a highly dangerous man named August Walker.

"Neighbor, you should come inside. It's too late for a young lady, even if you're a widow like yourself. Your husband surely wouldn't leave you alone, especially at this hour of the night." Mrs. Johnson speaks from the balcony of her house, which is a few houses before mine.

"In fact, my late husband didn't have much say in where I should go, regardless of the time, but thank you, Mrs. Johnson. I have a commitment with an old college friend, and I have to hurry to catch the last train." you say, trying to be falsely polite and quickening your pace; after all, you're really running late. Walker sent a message after two years of no contact. To be honest, you thought he was dead. But when a bouquet of red roses appeared on your fake late husband's grave, you knew. Walker needs you.

The cold night wind rustles the hem of your dress, which is neither too short nor too long. Fortunately, you decided to wear a coat that shields you from the excessive chill. The bouquet of roses marks the location of the meeting with Walker. In the city center, there is a flower shop named W. Flowers. Few know, but August is the heir to this florist. The new owner usually keeps the flower shop open until late at night, claiming it's for the sake of last-minute lovers. You hurriedly board the train, having purchased a ticket for the last available seat. Strangely, the seats next to and in front of you are empty. A chill runs down your spine. Something feels off-kilter. When you stand up, you see Walker entering the train with a dark overcoat that complements his expensive suit. He doesn't look directly at you; in fact, it's as if he's scanning every corner of the train before allowing his gaze to meet yours. Something is amiss. You act as if he is a stranger for much of the journey. He occupies the seat in front of you, indicating that he wants to observe you without interacting. A young woman with a child in her lap takes the seat next to August.

The train is about to depart, and no one has taken the seat beside you. You allow yourself to think that perhaps the passenger gave up the journey, or Walker intentionally bought this ticket, knowing that only the seat across from him would be left for you. You glance at him, and he seems uneasy. As always, his gaze says little. During the times you trained to become skilled spies, he was always praised for having a difficult-to-read or interpret face. You decide to gently nudge his leg with your foot, while the mother of the child tries to calm her restless son. He seems to understand that you need a signal, something to comprehend the situation you both find yourselves in. So, he drags his shoe to the exposed part of your leg and quickly forms a 'T' with the tip of his shoe. You swiftly grasp what's happening.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" A completely recognizable voice addresses you, and then he sits beside you. The man, as attractive as he may be, will always be remembered as the one who tried to kill you, now sitting next to you on the train. He is wearing a blue suit, adjusting his blazer while smiling at the child who has now stopped throwing a tantrum and has finally calmed down in the mother's lap.

You look at Walker, as if to say, "Fuck you." He handed me over to the citrus fruit. You get up quickly trying to escape. But Tangerine's hand holds your hand. His hand is firm holding yours, almost making it seem like we're old lovers or something.

"Honey, you should sit down, the train is going to leave soon. You might lose your balance." Your eyes are penetrated through Tangerine's blue eyes. A somewhat greenish blue.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I really need to go to the bathroom." You say, smiling slightly and then heading to the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your breathing is so uneven, your chest feels like it's going to explode. You only come to your senses when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

"Sorry, the bathroom is occupied." That's all you can say before having the bathroom stall invaded by Walker. As soon as you see it's him, your first instinct is to hit his chest. With all the strength possible. But he holds your hands and then pulls your body against his.

"I know you're angry and I accept all your anger. But right now, Y/L/N, we're screwed. We're in that psychopath's hands." He speaks almost with a beating, while still holding your hands.

"We're screwed, my ass. You screwed yourself and for a change you gave me away so you wouldn't be screwed alone." You know Walker too well to know he would do anything to survive. You think about opening the bathroom stall door but he holds your body against the door and finally lets go of your hands. You look into Walker's eyes before doing the only thing that comes to your mind. You pull Walker's face towards you and kiss him. A kiss that slowly intensifies, as you explore every part of his body with your hands. Carefully you notice that he has a gun on the back of his waist. You hold tight to his neck, bringing your legs up to Walker's waist. He understood that he should hold your ass and basically hold you on his lap. You lightly touch Walker's penis, which seems to be getting erect. Anything to distract him while you try to get the gun out of his waistband.

"I know what you're doing..." He says without breaking the kiss too much, which is perfect. You finally reach for the gun and then you bite down hard on Walker's lip. He moans loudly in pain and and moves away from you. Before he can react, you shoot into the air and turn to run out of the train, imagining all the passengers running out of the train as soon as they heard it the shot.

"See you outside." You talk running out of the train with the crowd. Leaving Walker behind. But then you feel someone grab your waist as soon as you get off the train.

"I'm glad you let Walker go, now it's just you and me." Tangerine says, smiling slightly as he guides you and you feel like you won't escape easily this time.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Under Orders - Part 1

Masterlist

Part 1 🔹Part 2🔹Part 3🔹Part 4🔹Part 5

Pairing: softDom!August x reader (Described Marshall x reader)

Summary: August comes home after a business trip, only to find out his princess is under some highly inconvenient orders...

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, BDSM, D/s dynamic (technically D/s/D), praise kink, bondage, oral (m receiving), (first time) anal sex (toys, fingering, p-in-a) (f receiving) (unprotected), slight hurt/comfort, use of pet names/titles (Daddy, Sir, princess, kitten, sweetheart and darling), established relationship, extra light dacryphilia, extra extra light spanking. Also check-ins and aftercare... And as pointed out by a helpful Anon; degradation/name-calling (slut/whore (affectionate))

A/N: Inspired by this little treasure.

I was initially planning on keeping this a oneshot, but if anyone's up for a part 2 of this, be sure to let me know! (Am I publicly begging for reblogs and comments now? You bet your ass I am!) We're doing a little soft!August because anal is serious business and I'm a masochist as much as the next person, but... lube and patience, please.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill (I know you didn't ask to be tagged but I thought you might be interested 🙊 *nervous laughter*)

Anyway: loads of smut under the cut

You check your phone for the time as you wait in the hallway – on your knees, the way you know he expects to find you when he comes home. Sometimes, you pretend to forget, because you know it riles him up, but today you already have some bad news for him, so you’re not taking any chances. The door opens shortly after you put your phone down. Hands on knees, eyes down.

“Welcome home, Daddy,” you say softly. Daddy, he earned the name in the heat of the moment, when it just slipped out of you when he was… you don’t even remember what exactly he was doing, but you know it hurt, and that you probably deserved it. The title stuck – it goes nicely with the nicknames he uses for you and the way he takes care of you, protects you... August raises an eyebrow when he hears your greeting.

“What’s the matter, kitten?” His voice is restrained, as if he knows what’s going on. He probably has a very decent hunch: he always does. It’s what he gets paid to do at work.

“Sir has given me orders, Daddy, and he left a message for you on the kitchen table.” Your voice is even weaker now, and you’re squirming. It doesn’t escape August’s attention that you’re uncomfortable.

“Stay here, darling,” he orders. It sounds sweet, but it definitely isn’t up for negotiation. You won’t make that mistake again.

August makes his way to the kitchen, frustration seeping through in the way he walks. There’s a box on the table, which contains a butt plug – or rather: contained, seeing as the box is empty. It doesn’t take August three guesses to know where he left it. He swears under his breath as he paces back to the hallway and looks down on you.

“What were his orders, kitten?” he asks. “And look at me when I speak to you.”

“I…” You turn your eyes away from him again, but he grabs your chin and pulls it up.

“Speak up, sweetheart,” he says softly. He isn’t mad. Not yet, anyway.

“Sir said I’m not allowed to touch myself until the next time I see him,” you say. Your voice is more stern now that he’s ordered you to speak up, but that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to say it.

“Are you sure those were his words, kitten?” His voice is incredibly sweet, and he emphasizes his words in such a way that you immediately realize he wants to hear the exact words, so you shake your head in reply to his question. “Don’t lie to Daddy, sweetheart.” Shit, that’s definitely strike one. You can’t always accurately predict how many of those you get before you’re in serious trouble, but it’s usually three. He seems to be in a sour mood, so it’s probably more likely to be two.

“Sir said I’m not allowed to touch my pussy until I see him again,” you correct yourself, voice louder than you anticipated you’d manage.

“Did he, now?” You know that tone – so does the rest of your body. Unconsciously, your walls clench around nothing, reminding you of the past afternoon. It makes you squirm again, but you’re under orders, and therefore can’t do anything about it.

“Sir also gave me something special to wear for you,” you whisper, “that I had to show you…”

“Go to the bedroom and get ready for me, then, kitten,” August says. There is a hint of curiosity in his eyes, but another edge to his look that tells you he has a very good idea of what he can expect.

As you go upstairs, August goes into the kitchen and fixes himself a drink. He doesn’t usually regret his idea to share you with his old college roommate – in fact, he usually loves finding ways to play with you while sticking to the rules that you’ve been given and putting you under orders is definitely more fun when he knows his friend will have to get creative, too – but today is different. August quickly dials a number and holds his phone up to his ear.

“Walker,” the voice on the other side of the line says. August can picture the man grinning ear to ear, knowing why he’s calling. “I was expecting your call.”

“Yeah,” August says gruffly, “care to rethink your policy, Marshall?”

“No chance in hell, Walker, have fun.” And with those words, the bastard just hangs up on him. Walter Marshall knows all too well that August’s favorite pastime when coming home from a work trip, is to watch his pretty girl – their pretty girl – play with herself, and now that isn’t happening, thanks to him. August doesn’t doubt that Walter is very pleased with himself, and it makes him livid.

In the beginning of this agreement , the guys would allow it to turn into a bit of a pissing contest between them, trying desperately to frustrate the other as much as possible. You had put an end to that pretty quickly, saying you were more than happy to be their little toy, but you weren’t going to accept that at the expense of every last bit of your own pleasure. They’d both had to admit they had each been going out of their way to make each other’s lives miserable, when they had put the arrangement in place to both enjoy you – and you them. What’s happening now isn’t technically against the rules the three of you put in place, but it’s a frustratingly clever way around it. That being said, they’re still allowed to pester each other from time to time, even at your expense, but never in terms of what can’t be done to you. They’re in charge of you, not each other.

August finds you kneeling in front of the bed wearing nothing – unless you count the intricate collection of rope and knots that run over your body as ‘wearing something’. He takes a moment to admire Marshall’s handiwork before walking over to you.

“Hello my darling,” he says as he gently traces his fingers up your back, “you’re very pretty like this.” His words make your cheeks glow, and you unconsciously clench your thighs. It’s almost enough to make you forget the pain you feel in the few places where the rope scrapes your skin uncomfortably.

“Do you like it, sweetheart?” he asks, still caressing your back, slowly moving to your sides. You squirm as he touches you. There is a hint of concern to his voice. He isn’t here to spank you senseless or fuck you until you can’t walk – not that he won’t, but it isn’t his primary concern. He’s here to look after you, to take care of you when you need him to, and right now, he’s worried you look a little too uncomfortable.

“Yes, Daddy,” you say softly. You’re now moaning as you speak, not from pleasure or even pleasure through pain, but purely out of discomfort.

“Darling, are you hurt?” He already expected you to shake your head the way you do. He knows you well enough to realize you can be stubborn – too stubborn for your own good, mostly. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to intervene because you were putting your safety on the line, just because you didn’t want to admit something hurt.

“Sweetheart, what did Sir tell you about these?” August lightly traces the ropes on your body. “And don’t lie to me, now.”

“Sir said to take them off if they became uncomfortable,” you say barely audibly.

“And why did you not listen to him?”

“I wanted to show you, Daddy,” you reply, “and everything went fine, but then you said you were going to be home a bit later, and… I didn’t want to give up.” It’s the truth – he knows it is – but that doesn't make it any better. You should have known better than to put your safety – or at least your comfort – at risk like this, especially while you were home by yourself. Your bottom lip trembles.

“I’ll let him know you went against his orders,” August says. His voice is calm yet stern, and he begins to untie you, pausing for a moment when he sees the mess you’ve made of the rope that was tied between your legs. His words are a promise that he isn’t going to deal with your disobedience tonight – he’ll leave that to Marshall. After all, it was his order you disobeyed. You’re not quite sure if that’s the better option. The easing of the rope against your skin feels good, but it also makes you more aware of just how uncomfortable you have been the past half hour. It takes him a few minutes to take the entire thing apart.

When he’s done, he gently massages your sore muscles and skin, while looking for marks, bruises, abrasions, any kind of serious damage to your skin – he’s glad he doesn’t find any, just some superficial signs of chafing. You whine and groan as his hands move over your body – half of your cries being from the relief his touch brings, the other half in pain. August slowly works his way down your back until he arrives at your ass. You can hear the chuckle that escapes him when he sees you. His hunch from earlier was right; the plug that wasn’t in its box on the kitchen table is currently serving its intended purpose. It’s something he’s considered before, but he has never actually taken any steps to make it happen. Apparently, Marshall was less patient than him– not that August hadn’t always known that.

“And how does this feel, princess?” August gently taps the base of the plug to let you know what he means – not that you weren’t able to guess. You gasp when he does it – finally a sound that’s filled with nothing but genuine pleasure – and wiggle your ass in response, knowing very well that that won’t suffice. August’s hand lands on your behind lightly, but it’s enough to send shivers down your spine. Your core has been on fire ever since Walter tied you up, and feeling August’s hands on your skin isn’t making it any better.

“Use your words, kitten,” he says as he spanks the other side of your ass. The noise you make is almost a chuckle, which makes August smile.

“It feels good, Daddy,” you say shyly. You’d been a little nervous when Marshall mentioned trying anal play earlier this week. It was always a soft limit for you, and you trust him, so you’d agreed. Now, barely five days later, that plug is your new favorite toy, and you whine when August slowly pulls it out.

“Has Sir done anything else to your perfect little ass, sweetheart?” August asks as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds. The rules said nothing about him not being allowed to touch your pussy, and he’s planning on putting this natural lubricant to good use. You whine as he pushes two fingers into you without a problem, slicking them up with your arousal. Thanks to the preparation with the plug, he slips one finger into your ass with ease, and you moan as he starts moving it in and out of your tight hole. He doesn’t need an answer, per se, your reaction is more than enough to tell him that nothing has happened beyond what he’s doing to you now, but he demands one from you regardless.

“No, Daddy,” you say timidly, a tinge of excitement in your voice as you realize what that probably means for the rest of your night. August chuckles. Marshall may have taken his favorite show from him, but he left him a potentially very lovely night of firsts. It’s more than a fair trade, honestly. You moan when August withdraws his finger, looking over your shoulder questioningly. You’re almost pouting, but you remind yourself just in time that August doesn’t like it when you do that. Good girls don’t pout when they want something, they ask - nicely.

“What is it, kitten?” It’s both a question and a warning, and you exhale sharply in relief that you didn’t give him the desperate look you were initially planning to.

“Please don’t stop,” you say softly. Your voice trembles lightly, mostly with excitement, but partially with nerves. The bad mood he was in previously seems to have turned around nicely, but that doesn’t always mean he’ll heed your requests, although he did seem rather excited about the little anal experiment Marshall started earlier today.

“Get on the bed,” he orders as he takes his shirt off. You do as he tells you and wait patiently, not expecting him to join you, lying down, moving you so you’re on your knees next to him. One of his hands reaches for your chin and pulls you closer to him.

“Can I get a kiss, princess?” You know better than to refuse him – not that you would ever want to – so you lean forward until your lips touch his. You don’t expect him to pull you against him completely, but it’s a nice surprise. For a delicious moment, you snuggle into his side, relishing the feeling of his lips against yours, tongues sliding past one another and his teeth grazing at your lips. You moan each time he gently bites down on your bottom lip. He pulls you a bit further on top of him, your legs now on either side of one of his thighs, and gently strokes your skin along the path that was recently occupied by the ropes. The kiss is amazing, especially since you’ve had to miss him for a whole week and when you shift slightly and his thigh provides a bit of that exquisite friction against your clit, you can’t resist the temptation. Your hips grind against his leg longingly and for a moment, you forget everything except you and August – only to be reminded by two sharp smacks on your ass that, unfortunately, reality is a thing, and in this reality you’ve been told not to do what you started doing.

“You’re smart enough to know that counts as touching, kitten.” August laughs as he says it while his fingers dig into your hips, holding them firmly in place so you can’t move them anymore. You whisper an apology before you curl up against his chest. You’ve missed being in his arms, although it was nice to have Marshall around for five days. A part of you hopes the three of you will spend a night together again soon, but you haven’t had the courage to ask either one of them if they’d be up for that.

“I’ve missed you too,” August suddenly murmurs into your hair as he pulls you even closer. When you turn your face up to him, he kisses you again. It’s warm, soft, and wet and incredibly impatient, filled with love as well as lust. When he breaks away from you, you press a few sloppy kisses to his neck. It’s a very weak protest, you’re well aware of that, but you’re sad he stopped kissing you and you have to do something to prevent yourself from acting out in ways that will get you punished.

“Now be a good girl for me and suck my cock, darling.” In another world you might have wanted him to beg for it, but in this universe, his order is enough to turn you on even more than anything that’s happened before now, and you don’t hesitate to undo his belt and trousers. He stops you when you try to move towards the foot of the bed. “Stay here so Daddy can play with you.”

You writhe in anticipation when he says those words as you free his cock from its confinement, fingers wrapping his girth, barely closing around it completely. The rope, your naked body, the swift encounter with your dripping wet cunt, the kiss, and the thought of all the things he wants to do to your tight little ass have left him hard. A hum escapes from between August’s slightly parted lips when your tongue darts out to slowly circle the head of his cock. The sound turns into a loud moan when you waste very little time wrapping your lips around him.

Usually, you like to exploit the fact that this is the only way you get to tease him a bit with no – alright, barely any – repercussions, but it’s been too long since you’ve felt his cock in your mouth and you need him too much. You moan and throw your hips back when you feel one of his fingers push into your ass again. It doesn’t go in as easily as the last time, but it doesn’t hurt. Still, August feels the increased amount of friction and reaches into the nightstand for the lube he keeps there. It’s cold against your skin, but that feeling fades as he works it into you, slowly pumping his finger until it’s completely inside of you. He surprises you when he suddenly sinks his teeth into your flesh before kissing the skin he just hurt.

“Good girl,” he praises you, “you’re doing very well.” Your cheeks are burning, and the words send jolts of electricity straight to your already dripping core. Your heart swells with pride whenever he talks to you like that, and you love earning his praise. There is absolutely nothing you love more than being ‘Daddy’s dirty little slut’. You moan around his cock as you focus on taking him in as deep as possible. In this position, you can take him all the way down, but you’re afraid to as long as he’s playing with your ass like this. It doesn’t look like he’s going to stop; after a short amount of time, you feel the tip of a second finger press against your hole, slowly inching its way inside of you.

“You have to promise you’ll tell me if I hurt you, princess,” August says as he uses his free hand to softly stroke your back, “can you do that for me?” You regret that you have to answer him, but you know he’s not going to take some ‘hmm-hmm’-noise that sounds vaguely like agreement as an answer – which just so happens to be exactly what makes you trust him enough to stick his fingers up your ass, to put it bluntly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you reply after you finally manage to pull your mouth off his cock. Your answer is sincere; you know you are stubborn as a mule at times, but by now you’ve learned that August being this gentle means something will go seriously wrong if he’s rough. You trust that judgment – and you’re fairly sure Marshall will get his ass handed to him about leaving you alone to make that call about the shibari harness.

Normally, August’s moans are all you have to get off on when you suck him – and you do get off on them – but now that they’re paired with the feeling of him fingering your ass, you think you might just go completely insane. It’s very hard to keep a steady rhythm with your mouth while you frantically throw your hips back against the movements of August’s fingers, especially when you feel him add a third finger. This is where you expected it to start being painful, but it isn’t. That being said, there’s definitely more friction, and you decide it’s a better idea to stay ahead of any pain than to ring the alarm when you’re already hurting.

“Can you use some more lube?” The sharp pain of a firm smack on your ass startles you. You could have expected August to tell you off for speaking with a full mouth, and making you repeat your question, but you aren’t really in a position where thinking straight is a top priority. He seems more than happy to answer to your request. You’re guessing he’s more than excited you’re having so much fun with this new little experiment. You make a last-ditch effort to continue what you can safely call the sloppiest blowjob of your life, but you definitely can’t keep a level head anymore now that August is fucking your ass with three fingers. When a fourth gently seeks entrance you shriek, expecting pain, but it doesn’t come at all.

August can be a very patient man, he knows it, you know it – Marshall no doubt also knows it, which is probably why he recognized that August would be much better suited for this particular first time than he would be. That, and in the ‘natural equipment’ department, Marshall is just a little more intimidating circumference wise, which wouldn’t necessarily be ideal, either. You’re still throwing your hips back, fucking yourself stupid on August’s fingers, ignoring his soft chuckles while moaning louder and louder, but still too shy to ask for what you really want – unprompted, at least. Luckily, August isn’t in the mood for cruel games or teasing tonight.

“What do you want, darling?” He asks. The smile on his face is audible in his voice.

“I- I want you,” you say in between moans, “I want you to fuck my ass.” As much as your eagerness clearly turns him on more, he remains calm and takes his time, making sure you’re lying on your stomach comfortably, telling you over and over again that you absolutely have to tell him if anything is painful.

“Slow down,” you say, gritting your teeth as the sudden intrusion becomes a little too much, “please add some more lube.” He obliges to every request without question and without delay. The extra slickness makes things a lot easier, but it’s not quite enough just yet.

“More,” you grunt as soon as August adds a bit too much pressure. He halts his movements immediately and pulls back. It isn’t long before you feel even more of the cool liquid against your sensitive skin.

“Relax, darling,” August says as he carefully tries again. You take a deep breath and lean into his movements. This time, he pushes into you without any problems. You shriek at the sudden intrusion, though it doesn’t hurt at all – it’s just a very sudden, very intense feeling of insane fullness, and so different from what you normally feel, that it startles you. August doesn’t move, giving you some time to get used to his size and the feeling, which you’re incredibly grateful for. After a while he leans forward and softly strokes your hair.

“Can I move, darling?” he asks. His voice is as gentle as his touch. There is no doubt in your mind that you can trust him completely, and you nod. He wouldn’t be August if he didn’t need verbal confirmation.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan. If your words aren’t a plea for him to start moving, your writhing hips have to be. Of course he notices – you are in no way subtle about it – and chuckles before speaking to you again: “Aren’t you an impatient little slut?” His words send shivers down your spine: you love it when he calls you that. A moan escapes you when he suddenly pulls out and slowly plunges all the way back into you, and the noises only get louder with every new thrust. August seems impressed as he picks up speed and you keep moaning only in pleasure without a single hint of pain to it.

“Such a good girl,” you hear him say between moans, “you’re taking me so well.” It’s like you’re floating on air: As he slides in and out of you, increasing his speed with every thrust of his hips, August keeps praising you, talking about how tight you are, how good you feel around his cock… Soon, you’re begging him to fuck you even harder, sinking further into that fantastic feeling than you ever thought possible. It takes everything you’ve got to keep your hands away from your pussy, when all you really want is to give your throbbing clit the attention it’s so desperately craving. Your pleasured moans become frustrated cries as your body keeps screaming for release, but none of the million sensations you’re feeling are enough to provide it. There is one solution, but you’re far too stubborn to open your mouth and ask. It’s a particularly short-lived sense of pride, as every thrust of August’s hips chips away at your determination to keep yourself from begging – and they’re coming in quick succession. If the feeling is as tight for him as it is for you, you’re going to have to be quick about it, too, because even August isn’t going to last forever.

“D-Daddy,” you whimper, “please tou-fuck! – touch me.” You can barely keep your eyes open at this point.

“Do you want to come, kitten?” August’s voice is sweet – the kind of sweet that usually signals a harsh rejection, but he’s in a good mood now, maybe you have a chance. You nod and whisper a barely audible ‘yes’ in between the cries that slip from your mouth every time he shoves his cock into you. “Is your little slut pussy begging for attention?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you manage to choke out. August’s grunts and growls are killing you, especially when he chuckles before he speaks to you again.

“Well, you’re being such a good little whore for Daddy,” he says, and for a moment you allow yourself to get excited, “go on, touch yourself.” You almost do it. Almost. And then you remember you aren’t allowed to. You want to scream, call him names, tell him he’s a sadistic bastard, but the chances of you sitting comfortably tomorrow are actually quite high. If you don’t rein in your attitude, those chances will dwindle below zero fast. Your thighs are trembling – not that the rest of you isn’t – and there are tears in your eyes now. Crying won’t scare him – if anything, it will turn him on more, and it sure as hell won’t help his ruthless tendencies, but you can’t take more of this.

“Please, Daddy, please,” you beg, “please make me come, please.” You say the word ‘please’ another ten or so times before he finally shushes you. It’s a sound you haven’t heard before, full of adoration – perhaps even a bit of admiration. You let out a loud shriek when he reaches around your hip and brings his fingers to your clit. It doesn’t take much – and by that you mean it takes him unbelievably little effort to take you right to the edge.

It’s his voice that ends up pushing you over, when he leans forward to whisper in your ear: “Come for me, you dirty little slut.”

You come so hard it almost scares you, screaming August’s name – which you’re hoping won’t land you in hot water, given the circumstances, but you can’t be sure of that – so loud you’re fairly sure the neighbors can hear all of it, and then you crash. Your cries turn into soft whimpers, and for a while, the only sounds to be heard are the ones from your mouth, his and the sound of his hips slamming into you. It doesn’t take very long before he seems unable to keep his rhythm steady. His breath quickens in that familiar way that tells you he’s close. You sigh in relief. It’s not that you want it to end, but you couldn’t possibly take any more of this.

“Darling, you’re so tight,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “you’re going to make me come.”

“Fuck, yes,” you moan, “please, Daddy, please come in my ass.” He’s more than happy to oblige, and with a loud grunt and an absolutely brutal final thrust, he empties himself inside you before collapsing on top of you.

He strokes your hair and kisses your shoulders and neck gently. Your instinctively dig your fingernails into his ass when you feel he’s trying to pull out, fearing the emptiness you’ll feel when he does.

“Shh, princess, it’s okay,” he whispers softly. You don’t seem to be in trouble for using his first name, but even that is the furthest thing from your mind right now. “You were absolutely amazing, darling. You took me so well.” He keeps talking to you until you finally melt into his arms. You’re exhausted, still trembling, but finally giving in to his touch, allowing him to take care of you. You whine when he finally lifts his warm body off your shivering one, and you only vaguely register that he grabs something off the nightstand.

“I think Sir would love to see a picture of you like this, princess,” he says as he softly brushes his fingers over the curve of your ass, “is it okay if I take one?” You nod eagerly. Something about you loves it when either one of them shows you off to the other, especially when they’re proud of you. You raise yourself up on your knees a little at August’s request. It’s difficult because you’re still shaking, but it doesn’t take long before you can collapse into the heap of pillows again. August’s hands find their way back to you shortly after, and he presses more soft kisses to your back, shoulders and neck.

“Do you want me to run you a bath, kitten?” he asks softly, and all you can do in reply is moan. After gathering your thoughts for a few short moments, you follow him into the bathroom.

“Can I get a moment?” you ask shyly, and August smiles and nods before he leaves you alone so you can clean up a bit. Despite the incredible intimacy of your relationship with August, there are some things you prefer to do in a slightly more private setting. Pushing your boyfriend’s cum out of your ass definitely falls into that category.

You’re shaking and sore, and when you’re done splashing some cold water in your face and you look up into the mirror, you see that you look very tired. August appears behind you after turning the water off, and he gently pulls you towards the bath.

“Join me?” Your words are barely a question, but your eyes are definitely begging him. Of course he agrees, he always does. It’s one of his favorite ways to unwind and reconnect after intense experiences. You’re grateful for that, because you love nothing more than to curl up against him while enjoying the soothing warmth of the water. He helps you get in and immediately pulls you onto his lap. You sigh as you melt into his embrace. His chest is a wonderful pillow, and his hands gently work your sore muscles.

“I’m proud of you.” The words are accompanied by a kiss to your temple. You laugh softly, telling August you’re actually pretty pleased with yourself, too. Your words make him laugh, too, before he tells you it’s well deserved.

“Did you like it?” It’s a redundant question – it would have been from either of you – and it makes you laugh.

“August, I fucking loved it,” you say as you snuggle even closer to him and tell him you’re definitely up for doing this again. Soon.

“I guess we’ll have to invite Marshall over sometime, then,” he says with a devious smile spreading slowly across his face. Your breath catches in your throat as he says it and your thoughts immediately run wild. Oh, yes, you think, you absolutely have to.

[peyton-warren]

💐Zombie's Bouquet Event💐

A bouquet for you! Featuring: Jake Jensen; Friends to Lovers; Omegaverse; Smut. Hope you enjoy!

++++++++

The work party was going about as well as expected. You and Jake opted to spend your time playing on the Nintendo Switch he'd snuck in. Neither of you cared for the crowds and the drinking in general but Jake was also getting close to his rut and wanted to avoid people.

As a Beta you couldn't really relate to the problems of a heat/rut cycle but you did understand Jake's beforehand pain. His natural Alpha scent would start to come out attracting a lot of ladies but as soon as they learned Jake was the source, they quickly excused themselves and kept even further away.

As someone who has had similar luck, similar "let's just be friends" and "I just don't think of you like that" responses, you could understand why he wanted to just lay low.

So the two of you agreed to spend the party playing Switch untill time to go home. Or you would have if August hadn't shown up, reeking of alcohol, looking for you.

"Peyton," he barks. "Been looking for you. Wanna take you up to my office for some fun."

You wrinkle your nose, "Mr. Walker, you're very obviously drunk. You should probably call a cab and go home."

"You should be grateful to get my attention," he glowers. "Fucking uppity Beta bitch--"

Faster than you can register Jake has punched August in the face and is snarling at him. You're almost overwhelmed by the protective Alpha pheromones coming from him. August tries to strike back but Jake is too quick, too strong. He practically chases August out but you stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

At your touch, Jake calms down considerably but he brings you in for a full body hug, his nose against your scent gland. You swear you hear him say, "mine" but it's too muffled.

"Jake?"

He suddenly stops and seems to come to his senses. He moves away, "I'm sorry! So sorry! I didn't mean to overstep!"

"Jake," you take his face in your hands, making him look at you. "It's ok. I liked it."

"Yeah?" His cheeks are turning pink and it's adorable.

"Wanna do more than just hugs?"

You hear Jake's growl before feeling him pull you in for the most intense kiss you've ever experienced. His hands are all over you and you lean into his touch. You can feel how hard he's getting and you grind against his erection, making him go even more wild

Jake's pheromones are starting to go crazy and you're worried he's gonna hit his rut here at the office. You finally pull away long enough to tell him to take you home.

"Gonna take you home. Gonna fuck you senseless. Gonna make you mine," he promises between kisses. "Should've done it ages ago."

"Guess you'll have to make up for lost time," you tease.

Oh oh my! @thezombieprostitute ! This is fantastic. I love this so much. Thank you!!! I love it. Jakey, my sweet Jakey. As well as him giving August Walker a beating. I will never tire of seeing august get a thrashing.

Omg I love it thank you.

[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.”