#august walker fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deandoesthingstome · 1 month

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Exactly What His Heart Meant

Pairing: Pornstar!August Walker x Pornstar!Reader

Summary: August Walker has wanted you forever. You want him, too. It's perfect.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: This is Pornstar!AU, okay? 18+ ONLY Drug and alcohol use, mentions of a three-way, generic anal, bad business practices, oral sex (F & M receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, P in V missionary and doggy style, sex toys, pegging (gasp - yes I'm going there), aftercare. Love.

A/N: I am nervous, okay? This is not your average everyday August Walker, but I love him and I hope you do too. I have been wanting to do this since forever. I've posted a few blurbs in WIP tag games here and here. I gushed about the song that kicked the whole thing into high gear and the fic title is taken from "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" - Rod Stewart. Both songs can be found on the playlist.

Bonus points if you can find the nods to other HC characters. There is definitely one, maybe two or three if you squint hard. (These points don't get you anything, sorry.)

Playlist: Listen to the music of the night on Spotify here.

Header and dividers by me.

August owned his entrance like no other. The studio made sure to send a PA ahead to prep the DJ and once he heard the first strains of “Night Fever” spill out of the club, he stepped out of the shadows and headed to the entrance, ready to start his decent down into the lights and glitter and debauchery as soon as Here I am sounded through the speakers and a spotlight made its way to him.

The already celebratory crowd went wild as he struck the iconic pose and thrust his hips in time to the rhythm. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried, no matter how he had protested his employer’s choice for him. He would have sworn on any stack of bibles he didn’t like disco and abhorred polyester, yet here he was gyrating away. First time for everything. Starting with enjoying this awards night and after-party.

Each one prior had a story already attached to it from the beginning of the night, starting with his inaugural ceremony and guaranteed newcomer award, and trailing through the end of every relationship he thought would be the one. He finally stopped assuming because they said yes to the event after a few months or more of dating, that meant they were saying yes to him forever. The next few years were brutal and lonely, not that he couldn’t find some starfucker to take home at the end of the night, but that wasn’t what he craved.

Tonight was Club Retro themed. Award ceremony glamor as usual, but a costume change was required somewhere on the way from the venue to the after-party if you wanted to really up your game. Arrive in club gear of whichever era you wanted, but arrive dressed to impress nonetheless. He wasn’t the only actor a studio had convinced to go for the Travolta look, but he was probably the most surprised to find himself exhilarated by it and the attention it received. He kept all three pieces of the white suit, but he ditched the dark blue shirt altogether. Maybe he didn’t have a full head of hair, but the ‘stache and chest hair on display held 70’s swagger and he was running with it.

He grabbed a glass of champagne from one tray and a pill from another and set off into the crowd in search of the rest of his crew. He caught glimpses of the fresh-faced sweetheart who’d just inked a new deal grinding on the studio’s number two out on the dance floor and knew his plan to link them up had worked. The fans would eat them up, he knew it.

Knew it better than the owner, who wanted August to break her in. Ethan had begun making some really bad casting and scripting decisions and August was glad his contract was coming to an end. He was starting to feel like he wanted to just blow the whole studio up, let loose with all the bullshit he knew about his boss and how he ran his business. The industry could be awful, plenty of horror stories, but August had initially thought he’d found a place to call home.

What he’d begun to uncover about Ethan Hunt could fill a manifesto that would take the place down. And as crazy as it sounded, though he was tired of breaking in new talent, he wasn’t ready to be the reason all his friends lost their jobs. Not everyone was in a position to land on their feet. Regardless, at least now, with the sweetheart and the roughneck on a solid trajectory he wouldn’t be in the middle of something if tonight panned out the way he hoped.

Though, to be honest, it wasn’t looking good. He’d found his crew and then scanned the room for her with no luck.

“She hasn’t shown up yet,” his agent purred in his ear. Kelis was always down to party whenever he had an itch no one else would scratch, and he appreciated how decidedly non-attached she always was. No clingy phone calls or pouting over non-existing anniversaries. It aggravated him, though, that she was looking to seduce him here, tonight of all nights. Especially because she knew where his mind would likely be, but it didn’t stop her from begging for his cock every now and then. He could tell she’d gotten the hint his look gave by the way she toned it way down to answer his next question.

“A few from her studio have shown up but she wasn’t with them and they wouldn’t tell me where she was. It was all very secretive. So at least let me have my way with you on the dance floor if you won’t take me home tonight. Please?”

He relented and found himself having the time of his life. Song after song flew by as he grabbed water then whisky, a line, then water, another line, then whisky, water, whiskey, whisky, water. Dancing with Kelis gave him a chance to forget about his frustration with his studio and everyone, here or not, for the moment. He let himself be free and felt a weightlessness he hadn’t in a long time. No call sheets waiting at home. No scenes to prep. No “scripts” to read. Tonight and the next two weeks were his and his alone. Time for some decisions.

He noticed the crowd had begun to thin, and realized he wanted some fresh air, so he peeled himself away from Kelis with a promise-to-return kiss and tap on the ass. He took the elevator to the rooftop bar and found himself a little amazed at the streaks of light just beginning to emerge in the distance. Time had really flown while he was having fun.

He was about to head towards the drinks when he spotted her leaning against the railing in the opposite direction. The white-golden hair flowing behind her was an obvious wig. He’d seen her step to the stage to accept multiple awards tonight (or is it last night now?) and she had looked just as gorgeous with her natural color as she did all done up in her Farrah waves now. An unexpected jolt of excitement coursed through his veins as he realized she’d also opted for a 70’s look, complete with a scandalously (though by whose standards?) short metallic silver skirt with slits on either side and what he assumed was a matching top, though with her back to him as she peered out over the awakening city, all he really saw where the two thin silver chains that criss-crossed across her back. They looked like they would hold nothing up.

But she was alone and he knew it was now or never, so he strolled around the roof-top pool to step up beside her.

"I’m glad I finally found you. I wanted to congratulate you. It's not often a producer gets awards for both behind and front of camera work," he opened.

She turned her head and beamed a dazzling smile in return before thanking him and offering her own congratulations along with her hand and then a surprisingly friendly hello hug.

“I saw you nailed Best Male Performer and Best Anal again. Your Missionary: Impossible series was a true stroke of genius. I wish I had thought of it first.”

“So she’s not immune,” August thought as he peeled himself away from her warm body. “She remembers my name.” At least she recognized his star status. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten him. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and trained his eyes on her through his lashes.

“You know I’d love to have you join the cast,” he spoke as he finished the hello hand kiss and lifted his head to gaze directly at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that scream ‘spy’ quite as much as yours do.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a producer acting for another studio. You’ve got balls to ask, that’s for sure,” she laughed, tossing back the rest of her whisky before grabbing another off the tray passing by.

“Where’ve you been all night? I tried to find you right after the ceremony, but you disappeared and I had to run for a wardrobe change.” August tossed a casual grin and motioned at the cheesiness of his costume, though inside he was kicking himself.

The point of engaging wasn’t to offer her a part. How ridiculous! He’d been doing that for months now and she wasn’t biting. No. Tonight he was going to get answers. Why had she consistently denied him another shot with her? It had to be more than just the technicalities of trying to untangle ownership and percentages filming another studio’s producer would bring. She broke into his train of thought with an explanation of her quick and sudden departure from the award banquet and why she hadn’t arrived at the after party locale for what had to be at least a few hours.

“Already prepping material for next year. We had a newcomer attend with the studio tonight. He’s an absolute stud. Looking to get his name out there so we filmed his first scene backstage.”

August’s hopeful heart sank a little. He couldn’t expect her not to keep putting out material just because his advances might finally be successful, but it would take all his cool charm and guile to woo her if she was already cock-drunk tonight. He put out another feeler.

“You look well put back together already,” he commented, eyes tracing her figure with obvious intent.

“Oh not me. No, I was directing. Looking to nab that ‘behind the scene newcomer’ award next year,” she beamed, her smile still welcoming. “No, Mikey did a little gonzo three-way for his first official movie with Darkk Angel. We’re releasing it next week after a quick trip to post and then have him lined up for three more scenes next month. I’m wondering if we can talk AVN into a “most prolific” award.” Her laughter was infectious and he found himself with a wide grin, verging on goofy in spite of his aim.

“You’ve never directed? How have I missed that?” August sought to focus attention away from whoever this Mikey kid was and back on her completely, then mentally kicked himself again for admitting something that could only make him look desperate and maybe a little creepy. From his statement, and along with all the official asks from his agent, she had to think he was a stalker, completely obsessed with her.

Not that he wasn’t. Not since that very first time. Her “first’ anal scene. He understood she had to be a little overwhelmed at that shoot with so many people on set. She had clearly already fucked the director (for a scene) and was now just taking on a few actors who were already on a rise. It was his last commitment to the old studio and then he was off to a new contract with Hunt. God, he wished he could have taken her with him. As it was, the only thing he kept was her scent that lingered not long enough.

"You know, I've asked my agent about another scene with you more times than any other actor. He never has a good enough reason to tell me no. What gives?" August inquired.

She debated telling him the truth. That she was completely enamored of him despite, only having met once, and afraid to ruin her own fantasy. Yes, she thought about him often. She’d be lying if she said otherwise.

But what if he refused her counter-offers? What if he didn't play the way she had come to discover she wanted sometimes, needed even?

She could accept if his big dick in her pussy or ass was all he'd agree to again for one scene. But she wanted more. More than a scene. More than a spectacle.

"Industry's hottest stars finally fucking again!" she imagined the trade headlines would scream, not bothering to temper her own ego about her status.

And which studio got the rights? His or hers? Of course she would never give up the rights to those shots, those stills, that video. It had been years since any studio other than the one she owned had any rights to any images of her. Why August Walker didn't make the same professional move she had was beyond her, but at least she could play the upper hand if it came down to it. It was power to own the rights to your own material and that power trumped his studio contracts. Or at least she'd make that case. Plus Ethan Hunt was a little bitch and she’d be damned if she contributed to his profits in any way.

Still, she couldn’t get past the concern that having his big dick in her ass again would ruin her for anyone else ever again. It wasn't the size. Hell, she'd had two almost equal to him in there just the other day.

No. It was the fantasy. Not only what she already knew of his prowess, though if she’d improved over time, and she knew she had, he had to have gotten better too. But also what she imagined she knew based on the stories she'd heard. Stories about his true personality as well as the image she made up in her head based on tidbits of their past and innuendos of his present.

On set, she'd heard he’d become a bit of a prick. Even worse when the storyline called for Daddy. Not that it didn't make her wet to watch. And daydream about. Calling him Daddy, mmmm.

Except that wasn't her. Not her kink. Not her need. Not really.

And off set? Well, lips are usually loose in the industry, but somehow very few factual stories about dating August Walker were out there. Most of what she'd heard was easily dispelled rumor.

No, he wasn't into animal play. Either kind. Good.

No, he didn't force his partners to sleep in separate rooms after finishing. Why would someone even start that rumor? To what end?

Her private private detective had tracked down the source and verified quickly. It was a little bit of column a, a little bit of column b. The studio was looking to cash in on the mystery and intrigue of their dashing playboy, and a jilted date wanted more. Who wouldn't want more of him? But that choice was self-sabotaging to say the least.

She was well aware that some women, and men for that matter, liked to imagine their favorite actor to be the world's largest asshole. No, not that way.

That was the way she liked to imagine him. And the basis for her declination. He'd never say yes. She was sure of it.

And yet here he was. Blushing at the mere mention. Maybe she should have countered with that when he first started seeking her out. But she hadn't been ready to give up the rush she felt every time a message from Hunt Club studios appeared in her inbox.

August felt the heat rise in his cheeks and knew someone out there would say he was blushing, but August Walker does not blush.

As she leaned in, he swiped another surreptitious peek at her gorgeous and barely covered tits, though he was so smooth no one could have seen this time. Not that it mattered. He was right about the thin silver chains holding onto barely anything up front. Where she found tissue paper thin metallic material, he had no idea but her nipples showed through what little fabric there was making up the plunging neckline of the deep-vee tank, as if they weren’t also practically peeking out of the top as it was. She had them on display for a reason. But he was trying to make a move here. Trying to differentiate himself from the rest of the industry players and hangers-on hoping for a hook-up after the awards.

Champagne and liquor had flowed all night, powder cut, pills popped. He was tipsy but it was really the sunrise inching its way into the sky behind her, here on this rooftop bar next to the pool full of drunken, naked bodies, and the angelic halo circling the crown of her head that had him staring back into her eyes in no time, enraptured. Well, that and her reply.

“I have certain … desires that I’m not convinced you’d be amenable to and I didn’t want to alienate you.”

He went on to ask, no - insist, she explained her terms, right here right now. And she obliged, clarifying that she didn’t intend to be filmed at all. That her interest in climbing into bed with him was related only to the burning desire she’d felt to track him down, beg him for more, practically every day since that shoot. And the thing that convinced her not to bother was the never ending stream of talent she’d seen draped around him months, years later.

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Wanted to relive that moment and then build on it. Take the scene farther than was written. Fuck him right off the page and into her life forever. It was indescribable the way he felt listening to her narrate her desire to own him. She was only mentioning the bedroom, but he got the feeling she meant the heart as well.

Still, she was being mysterious with the details, so August began to mention specifics. What he wouldn’t do.

"I won't lick your boots," he'd said with a grin after a shorter than expected list, still wavering on if he actually meant to convey the opposite.

"Maybe not," she replied before leaning in and whispering in his ear as he tilted down to meet her. It was clear from her next sentence that she’d finally figured out he’d say yes. He was practically begging for it right here in front of these few end-of-the evening stragglers. "But you will take every inch of me."

Negotiations had already begun and this was just ink on the dotted line. Along with a string of consent questions with compatible answers and now she knew his safeword and he knew hers. It wasn’t what it used to be. Because things can change. But not his desire for her.

He brushed past her non-binding handshake and drew her in for a confirmation kiss, hands gently pulling her waist towards him. “You still smell the same. It drives me crazy,” he admitted before pressing his lips to hers with a smile. Then he broke the kiss, which had begun to turn lascivious even for the nature of the event, afraid they’d never make it off the roof-top if he didn’t.

He gave a deceptively shy smile and knowing nod to Kelis as he passed her on his way out with the true object of his desire draped along his arm.

She sent her limo off with whatever crew was left at the party before climbing into the back of his. They had no sooner pulled away from the curb and begun to make their way to his hi-rise apartment building than the driver’s shield went up and she went down, unzipping his trousers and slipping her hand in to coax him out.

She had gotten incredibly better at sucking dick in these interim years. But it was like she was finally home. Like her mouth opened magically around him to hold him close and taste his skin. It took everything in his power not to blow his load down her throat in the car. He wanted to be in her pussy when he came and there wasn’t much he wanted more at this moment.

He managed to pull her off and get her back on the seat, legs spread and ready to take his shoulders as he slipped his tongue deep inside her core. Moving the floss she’d bothered to pull on out of his way wasn’t hard in the least. He had her screaming by the time the limo pulled up outside his building.

August draped his suit jacket over her shoulders before he helped her out of the car and into the lobby. When the elevator doors closed around them, she turned and pressed him back into the wall, staring up at him with hunger and power equally.

“That’s the last time you call the shots tonight. I’m taking my shoes off as soon as we walk in your door, so you can’t accuse me of asking you to lick my boots. But you will be on your knees and you will put your mouth back on my pussy and do that one more time before anything else happens tonight. Understood?”

He stared down at her with amusement that morphed into understanding that ended in solemnity before the ding at his floor broke the silence.

“Yes ma’am,” he finally replied, resigned to her whim. He opened the lock with practiced ease, nothing shaking out of fear but only vibrating with anticipation. How had he missed her meaning all those years ago?

“I wish I could show you how this feels,” she’d whispered in his ear as he held her chest tight against his. “But it’s nothing compared to how it feels from behind.”

At the time he thought she had meant for him to turn her around, still on top of him but back to chest. So he did. And she liked it. She came like a banshee and that squeeze is something they can’t fake. That’s what wins the awards anyway. The audience knows it’s acting, but when they can tell it’s something the actor actually wants, when the chemistry is kinetic, the high is so much higher.

Clearly she’d had so much more in mind. When she came back down, he made sure to check the front door lock before he turned back to scoop her quivering body into his arms and carry her down the hall to his bedroom.

“Don’t think I’m anywhere near done with you just because I’m a wreck right now,” she called to him as he set her onto his bed. “Where are you going?”

“I would never think you’d consider that enough for an evening. I want to freshen up, if you don’t mind. May I?” August quirked an eyebrow awaiting her response and it was clear he’d come right back to the bed if she forbade it. No questions asked. But she allowed it and that only made him ache for her more. He’d be quick.

“Damn right you will!” she called out after him before ridding herself of her own garments.

Her hand must have found its way to the soaking mess between her legs and this is how August found her when he stepped out of the bathroom a very short while later, rubbing a towel over his head after peeling it off his body. He watched her luxuriate in the slippery slide feel of her fingers dipping in and out, rubbing, pinching, pumping, pumping, pumping.

He dipped carefully onto the bed. He had no desire to startle her out of her joy, he only wanted to witness it up close. He crawled alongside her and watched as her chest heaves softened and listened as her sighs became longer. When she finally opened her eyes on a deep inhale, he smiled at her.

“May I join you?” So respectful.

“Kiss me,” she commanded, and while he heeded she lifted his arm and guided his hand between her legs. “And touch me,” she whispered into his mouth.

He obeyed. His fingers drifted through her folds and made use of the slick that remained to press up into her. One, two, one, two. And now three. And now she’s grinding up against his hand and breaking the kiss to demand more and he’s giving it to her but it’s not enough, is it?

“More,” she cried out. “Fuck me, August.”

He was grateful at that moment for two revelations from the rooftop. He already knew his own status, testing often despite Hunt’s lackadaisical studio regulations. But she had shared that her studio adopted the standard of routine and regular testing early on and therefore she knew exactly what her status was, too. And, coupled with the fact that she had the implant, she had no qualms going bare. All these things led to the next thing he was grateful for and that was the feel of her pussy wrapped all the way around him as he slipped his prodigious cock deep inside her.

He mused he could do this all night. Or rather all day and into the night, when the moon began to rise again. Because it wasn’t night at all. It was broad daylight now and it was streaming in through the mirrored windows. Nobody could see it, even if they did find themselves on level with the height of his apartment. But no curtains meant he could see the way the sunlight brightened her face and it made him want to see all of her.

“Will you take it off, too?” he asked, staring down at her while he pistoned his hips into hers and felt her open and warm around him. “Please?”

He wasn’t used to begging. As much as he wasn’t a blusher, he definitely wasn’t a beggar but he found himself wanting to do anything for her and she wanted him to beg. Or at least ask nicely. And he wanted to obey. For the first time, maybe ever, August Walker wasn’t in charge.

She obliged and pulled the wig off easily. It wasn’t even pinned on, there was so much bang to cover the cap. All that meant was she was able to free her natural hair with ease and he was thankful. Now she lay bare before him and he got to take a good long, up close and personal look before she took it all away.

Faster than he would have preferred she slipped back and eased him out, but turned just as quickly to take him in her mouth. August let his eyes fall closed while he relished the feeling of her mouth around his cock again, but just when it started feeling really good, it also started feeling too good. If she continued he was going to come and he really meant it when he decided he wanted to be inside her for that. And not her mouth.

“Please,” it was practically a whisper. She almost hadn’t heard. But she let go with a pop and asked.

“What was that?”

“Please,” he begged again, raspy but with sound this time, voice hitching as she took him back in her mouth for just the briefest of sucks.

“What are you asking for?”

When he pleaded again with a cracked voice, she smiled as she let go.

“What is it, August? Huh? What do you want? Or not want?”

“Please…please don’t.” he stuttered as she continued to toy with him. Dick in and then out of his mouth with no concern for his predicament.

“Say it, August. Ask nicely.”

“Don’t make me come,” he begged, even as she sank to wrap her lips around him once more. “Please.”

“If that’s what you want. You only have to ask. Nicely.” She was so proud of him and he could feel that. Could tell she’d do anything for him. And let him do anything for her.

“Let me fuck you,” he asked. “Please. Just ….”

“Don’t bother saying it, you and I both know 5 minutes turns into 20 in no time,’ she laughed with him as she lay back with her legs spread wide for him. He stayed kneeling between her legs and watched her face explode with pleasure as he rocked deep and strong inside of her. He wasn’t trying to overcome her, wasn’t looking to establish any kind of dominance. Not on purpose at least. Because the fact of the matter was, that no matter how much he wanted to let her be in charge, it just came so naturally to him. It was hard to drop that mantle. Especially while fucking into her and watching her fall apart around him.

Then she shook her head and through sheer will, dragged herself back from the precipice to snake an arm up his chest, fingers drifting to his neck and drawing him down against her.

“Kiss me again, August,” she commanded and he obliged with no hesitation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t resist and instead put her right back in the trance his cock had caused, but he didn’t want to. They’d agreed on this night. Agreed what it would mean. He was finally getting what he’d craved all these years. And so was she.

Their tongues tangled while his fingertips traveled over velvety skin, her legs wrapped around hips, his thick member pistoned in and out of her wet and slippery cunt that she controlled so well. She hadn’t been wrong. August imagined he could stay like this forever if she’d let him, drowning in her glory, ego stroked with every gasp and whimper and cry of hers. It was music to his ears. He’d heard enough fake moans and pants over the years to know what the real thing sounded like and he never wanted to give it up.

When he felt her squeeze tight around him for the second time, he began to slow, sure that more than twenty minutes had passed but completely uninterested in confirming his suspicion. No, he wanted her on her knees again.

“Can I have you from behind?” he murmured in her ear after kissing his way along her cheek and neck. “Just for 5 minutes.”

She could feel his grin, but before she could compose an appropriate response, he’d shifted, changed tempo and hit a different spot that had her howling and fighting the urge to beg him for more. Even then brief respite she’d have while they switched positions should allow her to gather her wits and tamp down her desire to just let him rail her into the next day. Because tonight was for something more. So she pushed him back away from her, flipped and pulled herself to all fours while crawling towards the center of the bed.

With a seductive glance over her shoulder, she called to him, “Come and get it, stud.”

Five minutes in heaven. That’s all she was going to allow him. She pressed her chest down into the bed and let him drag her hips into the air, flesh captured under his strong fingers. She screamed into the sheets as August directed her pleasure with practiced skill and just when she felt she couldn’t hold on any longer, he slipped a saliva-coated thumb into her ass and sent her reeling. He’d timed it perfectly.

“You’re done,” she fought through her haze to flip to her back and clarify. “We still have a deal, right?”

She watched him stroking himself lazy and slow to stay hard while his eyes blinked shut with relief almost involuntarily.

“Yes,” he replied, his exhale full of yearning. “Will you show me?”

“Show you what, August? Hmm?” she asked with a tilt of her head, pleased he was finally ready to give in to what he’d already agreed to back on that rooftop.

“Show me how it feels.” It wasn’t a question, yet still not a command. He’d never dare to command her. Not until she was ready for him to. And that wasn’t tonight.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since we met.”

All those years. All that time. August closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He pulled back a bit from the ledge that he wanted to step over for missing her meaning all along. As if she could read his mind, she spoke from somewhere that felt like a dream.

“I’m glad you waited though. I wasn’t ready either. I was trying to get over my nerves and thought a little brazen tease directed at the top talent on set would help. But I’ve discovered I really do like sharing that experience, knowing I can make a man feel the way he makes me feel. Make him understand how much better it is when it's from someone who cares."

When he opened his eyes, she was pulling herself up to her knees to meet him. He felt her hands trace along his chest as she pressed her lips to his. It was almost sweet, but definitely a relief. She really did want this as much as he did.

For a mini-eternity, they let their tongues tangle and hands roam. August shivered as her nails traced down his back with the perfect dig and smiled into her lips as he thought about the red lines he’d be left with the next day. He cradled the nape of her neck as even on knees he towered over her and let a hand drift down the soft skin of her side and around her waist to cup her ass.

When her hands finally landed in the same spot on him, he felt another layer of tension release as she caressed and squeezed each cheek with passion. She broke the kiss and nuzzled down his chest, landing on her elbows before him. With eagerness, she took hold of his still invigorated member, gave a few soft strokes, and then put him back in her warm, wet, inviting mouth.

But this blowjob had an ulterior motive that August felt as soon as it turned sloppy and her saliva began to drip and pool around him. With a now slick hand, she slipped her fingers off the base of his cock and in between his legs, tracing past the waxed-bare skin off his balls and teasing his entrance.

She circled and smoothed and kneaded until he finally felt a finger ease past the first ring of muscle and he had to put a hand on her head to slow the bob that was already threatening to pull his orgasm too soon. Surely she didn’t want that, did she?

August dropped his head back with a groan of pleasure as she let her spit drop onto her fingers again before pressing a second digit inside, just beginning to open him up to all her possibilities. It already felt so, so good. If this was all she did for him, it was worth it, but not really what he wanted. He’d had a few other lovers tease him like this, but he always stopped them short, still too nervous to let them go all the way to where he needed.

He’d kept this part of himself secret, shared it with no one, tested it only when alone. He knew it was stupid to hide this craving, especially given how exposed he allowed himself to be on film. But this was something different. Something personal. Private. That’s what he told himself. And he let his stature in the industry dictate the type of man he was in a bedroom, with a woman but without the cameras, for far too long.

His head was spinning as her tongue licked his length and her fingers teased and touched. She was pressing and pushing deeper and when she finally found his spot it took every ounce of willpower to maintain composure. He still wanted more of her, still didn’t want to come yet.

It dawned on him then that she hadn’t brought an overnight bag with change of clothes for the morning or toys for the evening. Just her ridiculously sexy wisp of an outfit and a tiny clutch that couldn’t have hidden even a bottle of lube, let alone the tool she needed to fulfill their bargain. She’d promised him he’d take every inch of her. Could she really have meant only this? Was she expecting him to come as she beckoned inside him?

“I can hear your thoughts, August” she purred up at him with a smile, mouth off his dick, but fingers still toying with him. “I don’t want to stop here either. I’m sure you can help me out, can’t you?”

She felt him tense and knew he was weighing the pros and cons of admitting what she had guessed when he agreed to take her home immediately without offering to make a stop along the way. August had his own equipment. No doubt about it.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, removing her fingers completely and returning to her knees to kiss him hard and deep before speaking to him on his level. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Show me what you need.”

She watched the seas of his eyes storm with fear before settling into calm as she held his gaze with no judgment, no mockery. She kissed him again, licked into the space between his lips and felt the passion as he held her tight, almost holding on for his life while he kissed her back.

When he finally broke free, he stepped back off the bed and opened the nightstand to remove a bottle of lube before he moved across the room to a mirrored armoire. He opened the doors and removed a sleek, black box which he brought back to place slowly on the nightstand, clearly deep in thought. And then he hesitated, hands resting on the lid of the box, head down.

“I don’t…” he started, and she felt a small ache in her heart. She had never seen him so vulnerable. Not that she spent much time alone with him at all, but this was truly a side she hadn’t quite expected after everything she knew about him.

“We can take our time, August,” she spoke with a careful tone and no desire to spook him. He remained still and she felt reassured he wasn’t running, not in his mind or his body. When he spoke, she had to stifle a small laugh for fear she would send him running from misplaced shame.

“I only mean, I don’t have a harness for you.” He turned, fingertips of only one hand still on the closed box, eyes scanning hers for understanding. And she understood completely.

She moved closer to the edge of the bed and grinned at him. “Oh, August. Oh baby, this is what has you worried? You think I can’t make it good for you if I’m not wearing it?” She watched this new layer of tension begin to melt away as he registered her words. “August Walker, I meant what I said and I can’t wait to fuck you however I can. And believe me, I know how to make it good.”

She waited for him to relax, to speak, to return to his usual manner and let her back in. Then she took a calculated breath, dropped the timbre of her voice, and called to him.

“And you’re going to let me, aren’t you August?”

Her eyes dropped just in time to see the twitch in his still hard-cock and she knew he was back and ready to let her have him. He flipped the lid to the lacquer box with one finger and revealed a small treasure trove of devices, any of which she’d be thrilled to treat him with. With no idea how prepared he really was, she let him choose.

“Will you start with this?” August handed her not the smallest, but not the largest either and she accepted willingly. “It’s been a minute.”

With complete understanding she led him back into bed on his knees before grabbing the lube from the nightstand and setting about her business. Kisses first. Deep and hungry. She wanted his tongue down her throat and he obliged while she held the dildo and lube in one hand and stroked his rock hard cock with the other.

Before too long, she’d dropped the toy to the bed and flipped the lid to the tube, using proprioception to drop several dollops onto her open hand before reaching between his spread legs while still commanding his kiss. Her fingers smoothed the viscous fluid over his entrance and dipped a little in with a finger before she reached for the prosthetic and smeared the rest around the tip and down the base.

Her lips left his reluctantly as she ordered him to hands and knees while she maneuvered behind him. With practiced skill, she massaged and manipulated her fingers inside him once more, listening for the moans and groans that told her he was ready for her to place the tip alongside a finger and ease the toy inside. She watched him carefully, moving slowly and waiting for him to relax fully before she slipped the whole thing in and he took it with the sweetest grunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, August. Just like I knew you would. Does it feel good?” she questioned, while gently pulling and pushing, twisting and pressing, smiling when he answered in the affirmative. With each motion she listened for the sounds that would tell her where and how it felt best and she was quick to learn his needs.

“Fuck…just like that,” he begged and hitched back into her, already wanting more.

“Impatient,” she teased lightly as she shifted to the side so she could both lean over to capture his lips again and still work the toy in and out of his slowly writhing body. She kept him wanting, shifting the speed and direction, for as long as he could last before he finally begged for the real thing.

She left him face down and ass up while she switched gear, careful to add more lube to both him and the larger phallus. But when she was ready to finally give him what he wanted, she paused for just a moment to consider orientation. She was certain positioning him to face the mirror would be too much for this first time together, but there would be others, she was sure now.

Other times to see the exquisite pain she knew would soon drip down his face as she wielded the apparatus and gave him every inch he asked for. She ran a hand up his back and grabbed onto his shoulder for more leverage as she worked him into a frenzy. He was bucking back into her and the moans that drifted from his lips were music to her ears. All the practice and care she’d taken, learning how to please a lover this way were paying off.

She knew how it felt, knew how he was riding each high and low. Watched him relax into his pleasure, at times letting her control him completely before he shifted his hips and dug into the bed with hands and knees to find purchase that would allow him to grind hard onto the sizable dildo she brandished with expertise. She’d go all night like this if he wanted.

As his circuits finally broke, she could see the waves of pleasure begin to ripple along his spine. He was coming furiously hard, perhaps harder than he had in a long time, no matter how many uses this toy of his had gotten on his own. She was that good at sensing and feeling and pushing and pulling exactly how and when and where he needed.

And August definitely needed. That much was abundantly clear as he collapsed fully to the bed, panting and gasping for air as he rode the waves of his lingering orgasm. She could see him twitching and knew the feeling because it was exactly how she felt after everyone of the orgasms he’d given her tonight. Like an explosion of sensation she never wanted to come down from and she’d given that to him finally.

She left him to catch his breath and stepped to the bathroom to run warm water over a soft washcloth and grab a fresh towel on the way back. When he was cleaned and dry, she tucked into the covers with him and pulled him to her, guiding his head to her chest.

“You feel okay? Need anything else right now?” she asked him quietly as her hand drifted up and down his back.

“I wanted to come inside you,” August admitted with an exhausted sigh.

“We’re gonna have a lifetime of that.”

Everything HC Taglist: If this isn't your thing, no hard feelings? (as always, let me know if you want on or off; if you've asked and your aren't here, try me again but know that Tumblr sometimes doesn't let me tag everyone.)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96 @ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoxo @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 @agniavateira @sammat97 @meb79 @kittenofdoomage (as always Rhi. Smooches!)

#august walker fanfiction #august walker #august walker x reader #pornstar!august walker #pornstar!AU #august walker fanfic #august walker!AU #exactly what his heart meant #deandoesthingstome #mine

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imyourbratzdoll · 10 months

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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ashbrat488 · 24 days

Text

Candy - August Walker Fanfic

August Walker x Original Female (escort) character

Trigger warnings: talks of abuse and torture

Summary: August Walker, the CEO of a renowned Security Firm located in the bustling streets of Washington DC. His life is a constant juggling act, burdened by the weight of stressful responsibilities. The strain on his marriage is palpable, with his relationship barely holding itself together. However, he remains tethered to his wife primarily for the sake of their son, whom he adores dearly.

To find solace amidst the chaos, August forms a unique bond with an escort who goes by the name "Candy." Their clandestine meetings become a refuge for him, an escape from the pressures of his daily existence. For over nine months, their encounters grow in frequency, and August finds himself becoming increasingly possessive of Candy's time, although he strives to keep their interactions as casual as she desires.

However, their relationship takes an unexpected turn when August accidentally discovers Candy's true identity. Intrigued by this revelation, he begins to interfere in her life and even meddles in the affairs of her boyfriend, who coincidentally works for him. As August's feelings deepen, he wrestles with the idea of whether he can make Candy choose him over her current life.

This story is 40 chapters and over 50k words. I will be posting one chapter at a time, if you ever want to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

This story (as well as any stories I post) is only for those over 18... it will include all sorts of sex including MFM...

And there will be a special guest star by Lloyd Hansen...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 - coming soon

Taglist If you want to be added or removed from my list, let me know 🫶🏻

@identity2212 , @alicedopey, @propelkingkitten , @critfailroll, @mrsevans90 , @carrie80reads , @thearcana-moonlight , @devotedlythoughtfulanchor , @alwayzmsbehavn , @dangerousblizzarddreamer , @secretdream2 , @evansabove1981 , @juliaorpll78 , @kingliam2019

#august walker #henry cavill #august walker x ofc #lloyd hansen #henry cavill au #henry cavill xofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 3 months

Text

Puppy love

Masterlist

Starring: Dad!August, Mike, guest appearance; Syverson

Summary: August is not happy when his daughter first starts dating 'that Syverson boy'.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Fluff, overprotective dad!August, family drama, teen angst, super-duper unreasonable parents, and vague mentions of teens having sex, I guess that needs a warning or something?

A/N: And now for something completely different... Written from August's POV. Unfortunately, he got married, and they had a baby, and unfortunately the baby was a girl, who is now unfortunately 16 years old, and unfortunately wants to date boys, who unfortunately happens to be the son of his college rival; James Syverson. 80% of this fic is just August being on the verge of having a fucking heart attack because of teen shenanigans. And they're not even that bad.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @littlefreya @mayloma @summersong69 @livisss @winter2112rose @changenameno @wa-ni (still not allowed to tag you, sorry :( )

“Daddy, come on, it’s just a date!”

“Princess, you’re too young to date.”

“Oh my god! Mom!” She stormed out of the kitchen, and you foolishly thought you could pick up the paper again. “Please talk some sense into dad!”

And there she was again. Both of them, even. You sighed and put the paper back down.

“August, for the love of God, she’s sixteen! She can date!” Your wife put her hands on her hips — you hated it when she did that.

“Not with that...” You struggled to find the words without letting the entire house in on why exactly you didn’t approve of this boy. Other than him wanting to do unspeakable things to your daughter, of course.

“He’s a sweet kid,” your wife said, rolling her eyes — you hated it when she did that, too.

“He’s a Syverson!” you blurted out. “She’s not going out with the son of that sleazy, good-for-nothing son of a—”

“Only if you can say it in church, August!” You didn’t even go to church! Neither did your wife, but it was her go-to way of keeping you from swearing, and as much as you hated to admit it, it worked.

“Junior can forget it,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Go get ready, sweetie,” your wife said to your daughter. Your blood was boiling. Did you have absolutely no authority in your own damn house? Not usually, no... “I’ll have a chat with your father.”

“So, you want to take my daughter out?” You took pleasure in staring the boy in front of you down, and you were pleased to report he was scared to death. Or at least he had the decency to fake it.

“Yes, sir,” he said, swallowing audibly, “we’re going to see a movie. I’ll have her home by eleven.”

“Ten,” you replied brusquely.

“Dad!” your daughter squealed as she came down the stairs. “Can you be normal for like... Five seconds? Mom! He’s doing it again; he’s ruining my life!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, princess!” you scoffed.

“August, that’s enough!” You glared at your wife, who turned to the boy in front of you.

“You two have fun,” she said. “Bring her back in one piece, James.”

“Eh, it’s Mike, ma’am.” He didn’t look at her as he said it.

“I’m sorry?”

“My middle name is Michael. I’m not overly fond of the whole ‘Junior’ thing,” he admitted. “Anyway. When is her curfew, exactly? I really don’t want to get her in trouble.”

“Then leave—ow!” Maybe you deserved that kick in the shins.

“She’s late,” you grumbled. “And I mean he brought her home late.”

“Oh, August, please! They’re right outside, you can hear them!” She rolled her eyes at you again.

“There’s too much giggling if you ask me,” you sneered. And right when you said it, the giggling stopped — which was far more disconcerting, as far as you were concerned.

“August, don’t,” your wife sighed as you got off the couch and walked towards the front door.

“That’s quite enough, young man,” you snapped when you pulled the door open and were met with the unpleasant sight of the Syverson boy harassing your precious little girl. That had to be it, right?

“Dad, oh my god! Stop embarrassing me!” She let out a frustrated scream and turned to Mike. “I’m so sorry, Mike... I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

As soon as the door closed behind her, you knew you were in for it.

“Dad, you are certifiably insane, okay? It was just a kiss, for fuck’s sake!”

“Language, young lady!” you tried, but you were fairly sure you’d find no backup in this case. Your wife was staring you down from the couch in the living room.

“No, dad,” she yelled. “You’re nuts. That’s it. Why can’t you just be normal? Why do you have to be crazy? You just totally humiliated me, like...”

“Princess, I’m just trying to protect you,” you said as you reached out to pull her into a hug, but she pushed you away.

“Daddy, I’m serious! We went to the movies, we had a really nice time and then he drove me home and so what if he kissed me? Like, you didn’t have to show up like that, acting like a complete psycho. It was beyond cringe! I’m literally mortified, like what were you even thinking?” She sighed dramatically and threw her hands up. “Whatever. I’m going to my room. Stay out of my business!”

“Well, that went... Well,” you said as you sat down on the couch, with the — admittedly false — hope of getting some sympathy from your lovely wife.

“No, August, it did not.”

“Ok, so, we’ll be in my room,” she said, already tugging Mike along towards the stairs, and before you could say anything, they were gone.

“Hold on—” you started, but your wife grabbed your elbow, calming you down slightly. But only slightly.

“Let them,” she sighed, the sound cutting through you like a knife, “remember when we were young?” She wrapped her arms around your neck and kissed you, and it took everything to not push her away, knowing where her mind was — with her sixteen-year-old self, in her bedroom, fooling around with her high school sweetheart: none other than James Syverson.

Yes, James Syverson senior, the father of the boy who was upstairs with your daughter right now... The man who had beat you for captain of the football team. Twice. The man who had made a pass at your then-girlfriend when you were years into dating her and she was wearing your ring and your jacket with your name on it. Twice. Was it really so weird that you trusted his son about as far as you could throw him?

Soft lips on your neck pulled you away from your thoughts. “Try to remember that I married you?”

You smiled at her before leaning in for a kiss, wrapping her up in a tight embrace. “I’m a lucky man.”

“Ew, gross. Can you, like, not?”

A devilish smile played at your wife’s lips for a moment before she kissed you again a tad too theatrically.

“Oh my god, stop it! You’re old!” The look of disgust on your daughter’s face was absolutely priceless. “This is a kitchen! It’s a communal space!”

“So is the porch, princess,” you replied.

“How many times do I have to tell you two; this door stays open—oh for the love of God! I don’t need to see that!”

“Then by all means, dad, leave the door closed!” You caught the pillow she threw at you, and Mike made a point of moving as far away from her as the bed would allow while mumbling an apology.

Your wife had been right — which you were never telling her, which didn’t even matter because she already knew, anyway — and Mike really wasn’t a bad kid. That didn’t mean you were okay with him feeling up your daughter, though. Or worse.

“We’re not doing that, princess. Nice try though.”

On your way downstairs, you were fairly sure you heard the bedroom door close again and you sighed.

“It’s okay, love,” your wife said as she wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s not,” you sighed. “I wish that boy would keep his filthy paws off our daughter.” Was it genuinely too much to ask for her to find a nice, non-hormonal boy her age who only wanted to sit next to her on the couch and hold her hand under strict parental supervision?

“Yes, August, that’s entirely too much to ask,” your wife snickered. You hadn’t even realized you’d actually voiced your thoughts. “Boys like that don’t exist. I remember you when you were eighteen… We were doing much worse things than they are.”

“But we were in college. Can’t we just… ban him from the house?” You slumped down on the couch and took the cup of coffee your wife was now holding out to you.

“We could,” she said, and for the first time, a smile appeared on your face that she managed to wipe off immediately: “But I’ve seen the inside of that car he drives.”

It had been an interesting phone call, at one o’clock in the morning, from your daughter’s best friend’s mother, asking if her daughter had come home yet.

“How would I know that?” you had snapped at her. Surely, she didn’t expect you to know who was in her house in the middle of the night? It was her house…

“Because she’s staying with you,” the concerned mother had answered.

“Ah,” you answered, grabbing your wife’s shoulder and shaking her until she was awake. “We were under the impression that our daughter was staying with you.”

Your wife had called Mike’s parents, who had also established that their son was not where he was supposed to be.

Long story short: Everyone was in serious trouble.

And now you were on your way to some club, your knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, and you barely managed to stifle a yawn. In the passenger seat, your wife threatened to drift off to sleep. The only reason you had taken her with you was so you wouldn’t make a gigantic scene — no matter how much that was exactly what you wanted to do.

Syverson and his wife were already there, attempting to convince the bouncer to let them into the club without paying some ridiculous entrance fee, while your daughter’s friend’s parents stood off to the side, looking more and more nervous by the minute.

Your wife walked to the door. “Now you listen to me, pal,” she snapped. “My daughter is in there and if you don’t want me to get everyone here fired and then sue this place to high heavens for letting minors in, then you let us go in there and look for her right now, or so help me God!” She could be impressively scary, you noted as a smile slowly grew on your face.

She paced back to you and scowled at you when you kissed her on the forehead. “What the hell was that for?”

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” you said.

Your kids were, indeed, inside. They — your daughter and Mike, at least — were unlucky enough that you were the one to find them. Dancing. If you could call it that — and you quickly decided that you absolutely couldn’t call it that.

The music — again; if you could call it that — was incredibly loud, giving you a headache on top of your already particularly murderous mood, and you held on to your last shred of self-restraint with all your might to make sure you wouldn’t genuinely murder your daughter’s… boyfriend. Even just thinking the word made you want to punch something. Him, preferably.

Mike spotted you first, and you felt an overwhelming sense of pride when his face morphed into an expression of complete and utter terror. He also had the common sense to step away from your daughter immediately, who looked up around at him when she felt Mike suddenly disappear from behind her. He pointed at you, and she turned around again. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Good.

With a single finger, you beckoned them both to come over, and when they were standing in front of you, you dragged them both outside.

“What were you thinking?” your wife snapped at your daughter, who looked up at you.

“Daddy, I…” You just shook your head and let your wife handle this.

When she was done — your daughter was now grounded for a month — you turned to Mike: “And your involvement in this was…?”

“They wanted to see the DJ, and I… I told them I could sneak them in. It was stupid and irresponsible—”

“Not to mention illegal.”

“—yes, that too. I’m sorry.” Mike looked down, clearly doing his best not to tremble visibly. He failed. Good.

“How’d you even swing this, James?” Mike’s dad wanted to know, his wife standing behind him, clearly trying very hard to keep her mouth shut to prevent herself from saying something she’d regret.

“It’s Mike,” Mike corrected.

“Not when I’m this goddamn mad at you it isn’t, son.”

“Hello, mrs. Walker,” Mike greeted your wife while handing her a bouquet of flowers. You rolled your eyes, even though you had no reason to. He handed a second bouquet — it was just a handful of daisies — to your daughter. “Thank you for the invitation.”

It wasn’t exactly n invitation you’d been all too excited to extend, but alas. Here he was again. Maybe grounding them hadn’t been such a good idea (even though you’d laughed at Syverson’s idea to have Mike’s punishment start two weeks later than your daughter’s, so that they’d have to go without each other for longer), because now they were just unnecessarily and inappropriately touchy.

“Thank you, Mike, these are lovely,” your wife said as she handed you the flowers. “August, darling, could you put these in a vase, please?”

You were glad to have something to do. “Of course, my angel.”

“Gross,” your daughter said while rolling her eyes, and you glared at her, biting your tongue to keep yourself from making your sarcastic remark.

“Eh,” Mike shrugged, “my parents are worse. I think it’s sweet.”

You watched over the edge of the newspaper while Mike helped your daughter set the table, while your wife continuously glanced at you in her signature ‘I told you so’ kind of way. You had already tentatively agreed with her that he wasn’t a bad kid! What more did she want?

Dinner was unbearable, and your wife had to warn you more than once to stop cutting your food so hard you nearly sawed your way through your plate on more than one occasion, and you gritted your teeth as you tried to focus on your dinner instead of watching the two lovebirds. At least they were trying to keep it decent, which was much appreciated, but it didn’t necessarily make things much easier for you.

“What did you tell her?” you asked your wife — calmly, you hoped — when your daughter slammed the door behind her after an unusually quick escape from the house.

“Not much,” she answered. You knew for a fact she’d been pretty on top of the sex ed stuff for years now. “A reminder that she shouldn’t do things she isn’t ready for. And to use protection.”

“Hmm.” Whether you were finally getting used to the idea of your daughter going out with Michael Syverson, or your wife and her relentless support of their relationship had finally worn you down, you didn’t exactly know.

“August,” she said as she sat down next to you and leaned into your side, “I know you’re trying to protect her, but you can’t stop this. It’ll happen sooner or later. Sooner, rather than—”

“I know,” you growled.

“You were sixteen when—”

“I know.” It hurt to clench your teeth the way you did, but it was all you could do to stop yourself from screaming. “If he hurts her…”

“She takes after you, dear,” your wife chuckled. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

“He asked you to where now?” Your eyebrows shot up a mile and at least a month’s worth of acceptance disappeared like snow in the desert when your daughter told you the news that Mike had asked her to prom.

“Prom, dad. You kn—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you don’t have—”

“Senior prom, dad. His prom.”

“You’re a sophomore,” you grumbled, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Yes, dad, Mike asked me, a sophomore, to go with him, a senior, to his senior prom, which I wouldn’t be able to go to unless I was invited by a senior. Like him. Can you exit psycho dad-mode for three seconds? Can I please go?” Your wife had been right when she said your daughter took after you in many ways, but damn if she didn’t have her eyes. And you were powerless against those.

“Yes, princess,” you sighed softly. “You can go.”

She wrapped her arms around your neck, and for the first time in months you saw a little more of your princess and a little less of the teenage monstrosity she’d grown into over the past few years. Apart from the horrible shrieking in your ear, that was.

“Can you do me one favor, please?”

“Tell me you’re not asking to approve my dress, or whatever?” Ah, there she was again. The monstrosity.

“Take your mother shopping for it. She’d like that.” And, hopefully, she’d come home with something halfway presentable, at least.

The doorbell rang at seven o’clock on the dot. At least Syverson had bothered to teach his boy some manners. He handed another stunning bouquet to your wife — which might have been more impressive if his mother hadn’t owned the flower shop in town — and nervously fidgeted with the box that held a rather beautiful corsage. No doubt also a courtesy of his mom.

“That’s a very nice tux, Mike,” your wife said with a smile in an attempt to diffuse the ever-growing tension in the hallway while you waited for your daughter to finally finish getting ready.

“Thanks, it’s mine,” he answered. “Dad has a ridiculously big family; I have a million cousins… lots of weddings.”

“Hey.” You all turned to the source of the sound; the voice of your daughter standing at the top of the stairs.

“Holy sh—” Mike cleared his throat — smart move. “Wow. You look… wow.” He rushed towards her to help her down the last few steps of the stairs.

“You look good too,” she said shyly.

“Not next to you, I don’t,” he managed — but barely.

As you watched Mike awkwardly trying to help your daughter with the corsage, memories of your own prom came flooding back to you, and you couldn’t fight a smile off your face. It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course, but the sight of them was simply too… adorable to stay mad about. Next to you, your wife grabbed your hand and squeezed it. She had tears in her eyes, you noticed, when she rushed past you to get the camera.

“Mom. Mom, stop. You took like four thousand pictures already, it’s enough. Enough! Please, let us leave, we’re going to miss the whole thing… Mom! Dad, tell mom she’s being insane!” Finally, you weren’t the one who was considered insane!

“I think that’s plenty, darling,” you said as you pulled your wife back and put a hand on the camera to get her to lower it. “Get out, you two, I only have so much to say around here. Have fun… but not too much fun.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” your wife added.

You rolled your eyes. “Like that narrows it down.”

“Dad!” your daughter shrieked before pulling Mike towards the door.

Your wife had successfully convinced you that going to bed early would be best. You needed a distraction, after all, and if she was so kind to offer to provide you with one, who were you to refuse her?

It was nearly midnight when you woke up with her curled up next to you, to the sound of footsteps on the stairs. A set of footsteps too many, that was.

“August, don’t,” you heard next to you when you attempted to get out of bed to put a stop to these shenanigans immediately. What did she mean ‘don’t’? You were just supposed to let them… “If it weren’t for you, I’d have let him stay over the first time she asked. Going in there, guns blazing, is not going to make this go away. They’ll find another place. Another time. And I meant what I said about the backseat of that car… If you have any faith in the way we raised our daughter, then trust her.”

Falling asleep again was hard, but nowhere near as hard as not throwing Mike down the stairs when you ran into him a few hours later, when he was on his way to the bathroom.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?’

You took a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself before speaking. “We’ll talk about that over breakfast. I can and will promise you right now, that you’ll be in some real trouble if you sneak out before then.”

“Coffee?” you grumbled when your daughter appeared in the kitchen the following morning, freshly showered, with Mike walking a step behind her.

“Yeah. Thanks,” she whispered as she sat down as far away from you as possible. You looked at the two trembling teens in front of you and realized your wife had been right — yet again — when she had said that if you handled this wrong, they’d never come to you if they were in trouble. Ever.

“It’s been brought to my attention that I may have been a bit… overbearing,” you said, ignoring the eyerolls from both your wife and your daughter. Mike just stared at the table. “And I’m sorry.”

You sighed as three jaws dropped in complete and utter bewilderment. “That being said… The two of you still broke the rules, and he stayed here without permission, which means you, young lady, will be grounded for a week,” you said, watching your daughter grab Mike’s arm. She looked hurt… “Starting tomorrow.” The two exchanged a surprised look and finally smiled.

“Does he have to leave?” she asked carefully.

“No, princess,” you said softly, “he doesn’t.”

“Where’s that ruthless jerk I married?” Your wife wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close while you let out a deep sigh.

“He said ‘I do’,” you grumbled. “And he had a daughter.”

“Daddy?” Your daughter’s voice was soft and small. The hurt in it crushed you, although you had to admit you were relieved to have confirmation that Mike was upstairs in your shower all by himself, if you were honest. “Are you mad at me?”

You reached for her, and she hugged you — almost like she used to. “No, princess, I could never be mad at you.”

“I’m still your—”

“I know,” you whispered.

“Are you mad at Mike?” Her voice got even lower than before, and she avoided your eyes.

“No,” you answered truthfully. “Unless he hurt you in any kind of way, in which case he’s a dead man.”

“Did you forget you forced self defense classes on me until I was a black belt?” she laughed, wiping away the single tear that had escaped her eye.

“That’s my girl.” You couldn’t have fought back the grin if you’d tried.

Your daughter wrestled herself out of your embrace and made her way towards the hallway again, turning around in the doorway. “Ehm, does the door still have to stay open?” she asked innocently.

“I think we’re past that point,” your wife answered, ignoring your exasperated sigh.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered as your daughter sprinted up the stairs.

“Does she know you’re here?” It didn’t take you two guesses to figure out why he was at your door. You actually remembered the moment you knocked on the door of your then-hopefully-soon-to-be-in-laws all too well.

“She does,” he answered, thanking you quickly as you impatiently gestured at him to come in. It was cold out, and money didn’t grow on trees…

“Does she know why?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not here to ask for your permission, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he said with a smirk that brought out some residual feelings of wanting to smack him. “I’m actually looking for Mrs. Walker.”

“You’re right not to,” you admitted. “She’d kill you.”

“It’s a bit of a catch-22.” He laughed. “My dad will kill me if I don’t ask, so…”

“So it’s a matter of who you’d rather be murdered by.”

“I think I’ll take my chances with my old man,” he said. “At least he’s not related to you.”

Smart man.

You followed him into the living room, where you found your wife with her nose in the book she hadn’t put down for hours. As soon as Mike walked in, she slammed it shut and put it away.

“Michael, can I help you?” she said in an unusually quirky tone, with an unusually happy smile on her face.

“I think so, yeah,” he stammered. Those nerves were finally kicking in, huh? Good. “I… Eh… She told me something about a ring… eh… her, eh…”

“Her grandmother’s engagement ring?” she helped him along gently.

He nodded furiously. “Yeah. She said that, eh… When the time came, she’d eh… She’d like to wear it. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“God, Mike, I think I’ve never seen you more scared of me than of August,” she laughed, and you gladly joined her, leaving the poor boy standing there with bright red ears and an uneasy smile.

“First time for everything, right?”

Over the years, you’d been subjected to many a feminist lecture on outdated patriarchal values and whatnot, so it had come as quite the surprise to you when your daughter had come to you, asking you if you’d walk her down the aisle. Now that you were standing here, with her to your left, squeezing your arm so tight you feared it would result in lasting damage, you wished you’d declined, so that you’d just have been able to sit quietly next to your wife, instead of being here with no prayer of getting a handle on your own nerves.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice taunting but with an obvious shakiness to it.

“You’re one to talk, princess,” you retorted, “I can barely feel my fingers.”

She relaxed her grip on your arm a bit, chuckling softly. “Will you behave?”

“Me? Always.”

As far as you were concerned, the walk could have lasted forever. You knew it had to end, and it did — way too soon — and all that was left for you to do was…

“I love you, daddy,” she whispered before you managed to move.

“And I love you, princess,” you replied softly. “Always.”

Then, you finally placed her hand in Mike’s. “She’s your problem now, son. And I have a very strict no-return-policy.”

#august walker fanfic #mike hellraiser #august walker #mike hellraiser fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #august walker fluff

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witchersmistress · 10 months

Text

Punishment Time

Hello my darlings!! Here is something special for ya!

Trigger warnings: BDSM, bondage, restraints, p in the v, oral sex both m and receving and giving, riding, bodily threats, bodily fluids, voyerisum and dedrigation

Word count: 3.9k

As you walk down the long corridor, your heels clicking on the back tile floor, you find the 2 men in question.. Walter Marshall and August Walker. Walter leaned against the wall with a cold indifference, August was sitting on his cot. Syverson was the only one who wasnt down here but that mother fucker was on thin ice himself.

August went to speak, but you brought your finger to your ruby red lips and shushed him “You are not allowed to speak” turning on your heels, making your way over to Walter’s cage. Eyeing him through the bars, casually wrap one hand around them “ My my” you purr “ you look good on the other side of these bars” crossing his arms and releasing a sigh,” Words whispered through prison bars lose their charm” his chilling british accent gliding over your skin, like a chill on a cool autumn day. Relishing as the goosebumps work up your arm, to the side of your neck and down your spine with a sharp zing. Cracking your neck to relieve some tension, he may be the quieter one of the three but he was just as dangerous and deadly as they were. August let out an amused snort as he walked towards the bars and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Moving to the side, opening the black hutch that sits nicely against the wall, that housed a number of assorted goods with their own spaces nestled in the red velvet lining.

From crops to whips, floggers, chains, various kinds of body clamps and butt plugs. Everything that made your inner dominatrix purr with delight. “I think the fuck not” August piped up from his cell “Nope no, no thank you ma’am” clucking your tongue at your silly pet “oh sweet boy” pulling a ballgag from its spot in the hutch and walked towards him, casually running you fingers across his cage as you approached him “What makes you think you have a choice?”

Grabbing his restrains just outside his prison, you motion for his hands, with a rough sigh he agrees and put his hands in the slots, he is going to try and over power me, that's his typical style, but i've learned in these last several years, attaching another chain to the restraints before locking them in place around his wrist. He pulled his hands back and fiddled with the secondary chain as I opened the door. “What is that for?” Walter asked, I cocked a brow at him as I turned and responded, leaving you back exposed to August, just like he taught me to never do. “Well it will control and restrain his movements, he may have been sealthy but he wasn't quick enough, with the touch of a button on the side of his cage, that chain tightened and halted him in his tracks. “What in the actual hell” August hissed as he pulled on the restraints, causing the chain to tighten and be pulled into the floor, the more he pulled the short his leash got, turning to see him on the floor, absolutely seething with rage.

Taking the ball gag in your hand, I waited “Look at you such a good boy, on your knees for me” he was pissed, his eyes were hard, Walter laughed “Wally, don't you start, your punishment will be far worse.” he stopped and went back to observing. Kneeling so you were face to face with Walker. Tilting his head up with your index finger, smiling at him as he, his eyes, the anger and lust flaring in his irises, he was pissed but he was turned on. “Good boy” you murmur, he opens his mouth to argue with you and you pop the ball gag in and secure it behind his head. Now he was beyond angry, looking him up and down slowly, with his hands bound in front of him and his mouth bound in silence, he was delectable. His breath short and heavy as he tried to calm himself, the bulging biceps begging to rip free from his button down shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck and his thick cock was hard in his black slacks. Sitting back on your heels, you enjoyed the sight before you. It wasn't often a powerful man like himself could be brought to his knees and caged like a wild animal, but he broke the rules.

Carefully navigating from sitting on your heels to sitting on your ass, thighs and knees pressed tightly together as you tip off your heels gently tossing them aside “What's the matter? Can’t handle it?” his eyes narrowed and he let out what sounded like a grumble low in his chest. The hairs stand on your arms and the back of your neck. It's a love-hate relationship with these men. Grabbing the ends on the tight black skirt, dragging it up your thighs till it bunches at your waist leaving you in your red bottomed thigh highs and black lace garter belt and matching black thong. Fiddling with the thin strap of the thong. Grabbing it and letting it go. Walter was groaning in the background but you chose to ignore him, his punishment later.

Dragging them slowly down your legs, till they were dangling around one ankle and directly in August's face. His pupils dilating and contracting with lust and anger, like he was torn unsure of what he wanted, did he not want to get free or did he want to break free and fuck you so hard that you forgot your own damn name. Both ideas had their appeals but for his punishment, he would remain restrained, spreading your legs open so he could get a good look at what he cant have, watching him struggling to free himself was an absolute power trip. Keeping one hand on the floor to support yourself, while the other one creeped down the front of your torso, over the bunched skirt and down to your soaking wet core.

With 2 fingers you separate your lips for August to get a better look, dragging your middle finger through your center, inside your aching cunt. Letting out a few soft whimpers as you circle around your clit. His breathing became faster as he watched you play with yourself. Reluctantly pulling your fingers away, cleaning them off and shifting so you were back on your knees, moving to a standing position and walking past August hitting the release button on the chain. He went to move “ Tsk tsk tsk” pushing him back down to the ground with your foot. Undoing the restraints so he could move his hands but he was still attached to the chain on the floor.

Moving away from him you cast a glance at Walter who is sitting on the bed with his hard cock in his hand “Don't you dare play with yourself” he grumbled as you walked away. Sitting on the chest at the end of the bed, you cross your legs and beckon August forward with one finger, he began to rise to his feet, shaking your head and clicking your tongue, “ On the ground, crawl” He grabbed his tie and throwing it over his shoulder as he began to crawl on his hands and knee towards you. Drunk on the power this gives you, you take advantage. Leaning forward as he approaches, you grab him by his tie and tug him up to a kneeling position. Reattaching the cuffs and removing the chain, and grabbing his tie, “Come pet” pulling him along behind you towards the back wall where the floor had slopped, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders and down to his wrist, as you moved to lock in each wrist, pulling off the shirt and discard it to the floor. Making sure he was secure before stepping back.

Pulling the lever and raising his arms above his head, looking up at his broad chest, his pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Reaching down, you pull at his belt, undoing it and sliding it from his pants before dropping it to the floor. Walking back to the hutch, you grab the 29 inch, black leather flogger and walk back over to him. His eyes widen in surprise, dragging the flogger up his chest and back down again before pulling it back and flogging him, he jumps back at the sensation, his abdominal muscles spasming at the sensation. Giggling with delight, you do it again, his look becoming less amused by the minute.

The tent in his pants is telling another story, licking your lips, you unbutton his trouser, pulling out his large bulge and gripping it firmly. What sounded like a hiss came from his caged mouth, releasing his thick erection from the confines of his boxer briefs, the rosie head of his cock pointed straight at your face, the head glistening with pre-cum. No matter how many times you've seen it, it still takes your breath away. Licking your lips looking up at his eyes, his pupils so large you could barely see any signs of that beautiful blue color. Opening your mouth and just hovering over the tip of his cock. you take him into your mouth, and he releases a deep groan as you flick your tongue around.

A small amount of salty precum slides into your mouth, mingling with your saliva. using it to further wet his shaft. Exploring the long, steely muscles with your tongue, I flick around the silken skin at the head to the piercings just below. lapping a line up the tight cord beneath before traveling further, tonguing the slit. He bucks slightly when you do that, so you do it again. And again. I feel his thighs tighten. He struggles against his restraints and fails miserably, his breath is heaving and strained against the ballgag. Watching him struggle was an intoxicating and powerful feeling.

Taking him in your mouth slowly, taking you time, teasing and slow as the head of his cock breaches your lips. The veins below his skin pulse under your attention. Halfway down the solid muscle, you hit the first piercings , gagging slightly. Sliding back up his erection, even after all this time you still get caught up on his piercings, I swear that motherfucker is laughing at me, I uncover you teeth and gently drag them across the top of his cock, he tries to jerk back, gripping one of his thighs, I dig you nails into his firm flesh as he stills. Scolding him with your eyes, he glares at you.

you immediately dive again, this time getting a tiny bit deeper. He hisses. A moan leaves you. A rumble of your enjoyment reverberates around his cock, provoking his pelvis to thrust upward. After a few bobs of your head, you get a rhythm, sliding down with pressure and dragging your tongue along the lower knot of skin on the withdrawal, while he jerks against the chains that bind his hands high above his head. Bracing yourself on his thighs and taking his cock, all the way down your throat, gagging slightly and tears forming as he piston his hips, his groans become grunts. His muscles tighten, contort. Then he explodes in a violent rush, flooding your mouth with his cum, shaking and pulsing through the moment. You swallow, but it's thick and powerful shots of hot fluid. You love the indecency of it, the virility. The rawness. You love bringing him that kind of pleasure.

Giving him one last suck, he hissed around the gag as you popped his semi hard cock out of your mouth. Sticking out your tongue to show him that you did indeed swallow everything like a good girl. He groaned and pulled against his restraints, slowly rising to your feet, you bite and kiss your way up his chiseled torso, standing on your tiptoes to reach his scruffy face, kissing along his jawline before nipping at his bottom lip. He was trying his utmost best to stay still but that wild beast that was beating beneath his cold and calculated edges was thrashing to break free, trailing your hands up his chest, then his neck and slowly to the back of his head, within a few moments, the gag was undone, stepping back, watching him pant you grab a bottle of water and bring it to him. Drinking it greedily, causing it to spill down his chin and chest.

you pull the bottle away and watching him catch his breath he says “You've had your fun now let me out” throwing you head back, laughing wickedly, “Oh no darling, I'm not done with you yet.” sliding his black slacks all the way off, just leaving him in his black boxer briefs with his cock hanging out was a sight you'd never forget. Stepping back till your knees touch the back of the cool leather sofa, pulling your bunched up skirt from around your waist till it was a puddle at your feet, undoing the buttons on your shirt, letting it join your skirt on the floor. Unclipping your bra and sliding the straps down your shoulders before letting it fall free. “Fuuuck” you heard Walter say from behind you, while August just stared on. Grabbing a handful of your breast you bring them up, giving them a squeeze and massaging them before letting them drop back down. His cock was now standing at full attention as you meander back to the hutch.

Bending at the waist, you shake your ass at them while you retrieve a different set of restraints, a toy and some lube from the drawer. Standing up and turning back round with said items, August was the first one to speak up “Absolutely not, don't even think about it” he shifted trying to get away from you. Walter howled with laughter. “ Mr. Big bad CIA man is afraid that she is going to shove that up your ass” August sneered at Walter “Do you even hear yourself, you sound so stupid” more laughter erupted from Walter as they continued to go back and forth with one another. Putting the toy and lube down, I moved to stand it from August and unclasped the handcuffs and placed them under each wrist restraint. Release the lever and lower his arms and take off the wrist restraints leaving the handcuffs in place, as you move back to the leather sofa and spread your legs wide when you sit. August stretched his limbs before walking towards you and dropping back to his knees in front of you. Taking one stocking covered foot and dragging it up his arm before resting your ankle on his shoulder. He turned his head and began kissing a trail up your leg, beginning to hum, you just watching him. “What are you feeling right now?” he asked softly, looking around the spacious room, flicking your eyes to Walter than back to August

My breathing escalates. “Confined.”

“Trapped?” he volleys back. My mouth tightens because while a part of me wants to say yes, the truth is that I don’t.

I feel… safe.

Protected.

Treasured.

“One day, you will realize that you are not trapped in a cage,” he murmurs roughly. “You are in your church where I am your God, and you are your equal. I’m not a cage, little one, I am your sanctuary.” your mouth dries. The tip of your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip and swiping across his lips. Just a brush, but enough to light a spark. An answering growl arises as you ask, “Does that make me a goddess?” He pulls you impossibly closer, his lips now pressed against yours lightly. “Little one, you rule the fucking kingdom, and I will gladly bow to you.” letting him ensnare your lips between his in a vicious kiss before pulling away, your breath left behind. He goes to recapture them and growls when you evade him once more. Keeping your mouth dangerously close, whispering against his tongue, “Prove it.” “Mmm,” he hums, the sound of a beast growling from the depths of darkness. “I do enjoy being on your knees for you,” he murmurs, nipping at your lips playfully. This time, he’s the one to evade you, instead biting and licking until your bristling with need. He only teases for a few moments before his mouth is crashing on to yours. The inferno in your body escapes from your throat and ignites our connected lips. Without thought, you arch into him, desperate to feel more of him against you..

your eyes roll as his tongue laps up your cunt, circling your clit and spearing into you opening. It’s too much—too good. I force myself to find something to focus on, to draw out the pleasure. My gaze locks on Walter, it rivals the husky moans falling from you lips. But I lose focus, and it all fades to black as his teeth join in, sucking and biting before easing the sting with his tongue. “Fucking nirvana,” he murmurs before suctioning you clit into his mouth. I cry out, pleasure consuming me whole. And he’s right. The way August eats pussy is nirvana. It doesn’t take long before his tongue lashes at you clit in just the right way that an orgasm explodes out of me before I can process it. Your screams echo in the open space as he swallows everything you have to give him. Clamping your thighs around his head as you ride out the waves of your orgasm, his mouth is still on you but moving slowly, his tongue lazily answering each pulse ofmyour flesh with one of its own. Running your fingers into his hair and grabbing pulling him off when it becomes to much, he looks up at you, his face glistening with your arousal.

Leaning back to catch your breath, he stands from his kneeling position, hands still bound in front of him, he sits on the sofa next to you. Looking at his thick hard shaft, you cant help but want to give him on last punishment. Signaling for him to raise his arms, you slide under them so they are behind your back as you straddle his massive thighs and fist the base of his shaft before rolling your hips, gliding your pussy up to the tip, then down to the base again, pulling a deep grumble from the monster just lurking beneath the glassy surface of his blue eyes.

Closing your eyes as you rubs your clit against his shaft, “Just stay like this,” you whispers, repeating the motion again and again until your certain he was going lose the battle against the monster and snap my neck like a goddamn toothpick. Positioning the head of his cock at your weeping entrance. You slow lower yourself until just the head of his cock is seated inside you.

Refusing to sink all the way down on his shaft, he growls at you “Patience, tell me what I want to hear and then maybe i'll sink a bit lower” bringing yourself down, slightly lower than you was previously sitting on him. He rolled his head back with a groan “ alright, im sorry for not listening to you and being a stubborn jackass, now if you dont not sit down in the next three seconds i will break free of these cuffs and fuck you like i hate you” your spin snapped straight as you sunk the rest of the way on his hard thick length. Taking a moment to adjust to his size.

“I swear to fucking God, baby if you don’t move right fucking now—” slapping a hand over his mouth, and gyrating your hips as you speak “Shh, baby,” you whispers, a slight grin curling her lips. The look in his eyes tells me that you have won. But I already knew that from the minute he followed me down here.

“I’m in control, Walker. Not you. Me.”

That's when I heard the tell tale sign of metal snapping his hands come from behind my back. One hand went to your throat and the other one when to your hip, grabbing your jaw he made me look at him while he held your gaze

“Ride me, baby. I want to feel your pussy grip every inch of your cock.” “Fuck, I can’t,” groaning, your body still working to adjust to the sheer size of him

. “You have five seconds before I rearrange your organs,” he threatens. It does the job, kicking your ass into high gear and immediately rising up and sliding back down slowly. After a few different readjustments, you finally found an angle that allows me to completely seat yourself on August without feeling him come up your throat. With this new angle, he hits that perfect spot he was abusing moments before., your nails digging deeper as you movements quicken. August draws me in, bringing you body flush with his. One arm curls around you waist while the other hand tears through you wet hair, yanking you head to the side and giving him access to devour you neck. I cry out, you hips moving frantically and erratically as his teeth bite the sensitive skin below you ear. you nipples scrape against his chest, sending delicious shivers straight to you pussy.

“That’s it, baby,” he croons into you ear. “Your sweet little pussy is gripping you cock so fucking tight.” The arm that was curled around you waist is now wedging between our bodies until his thumb reaches you clit. you head kicks back as I let out a feral cry of you own. you eyes are rolling, and I can hardly breathe past the orgasm curling in you stomach. It’s too much. Too powerful. your movements grow choppy and uneven as your core tightens unbearably. “August,” I grind out through clenched teeth, sweat forming on your forehead. I don’t know what I’m asking for, but I think I know what I need. The salvation he so steadily promised me.

The hand in your hair grips tighter until strands are ripping from your scalp. His fiery eyes catch mine. “Let me feel you fall in love again,” he whispers. you can no longer hold on. your vision goes dark, the pleasure binding and dynamic as the orgasm rips through you, tearing everything in your body to shreds. you fight, your willpower, and your goddamn heart. screaming so loudly, your throat grows hoarse. “Fuck!” August shouts, and your vision clears enough to watch his own head kick back, the veins in his arms bulging and traveling all the way up to his neck.

He bares his teeth, a roar that can only come from the depths of Hell vibrating throughout the room. His cock becomes impossibly thicker before he grabs ahold of me with both arms, forcing me to still as he spills inside of me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grinds out through clenched teeth, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips. your pussy milks him dry, wringing out every last drop until you're impossibly full of him. His seed nearly bursts from you when he pulls out, the thick semen streaming down your legs like the raindrops on a window. Our heavy breathing and the pounding of your heart is the only thing left to listen to. Slowly climbing off him feeling his cum leaking down your thighs, you look over at Walter, " Now Wally, it's your turn"

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #august walker imagines #august walker #henry cavill x you #henrycavill smut #henry cavill characters #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill thirst #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall

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geralts-yenn · 7 months

Text

A lesson in obedience

VampireKing!August x reader x original female character

warnings: 18+, Adult content, Minors DNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, oral (f/m, f/f), hint of dacryphilia, vampire bites, blood, vaginal and anal sex, sex toys. If I missed something else, please let me know.

word count: 4k

A/N: It's almost October and that somehow got me in the mood for some very kinky, filthy vampire threesome. Please read the warnings!

Slowly, you raised your head as you felt the temperature drop in the room. The girl whose legs were still draped over your shoulders winced when she felt your mouth leave her pussy.

“My queen, didn’t I give you clear instructions about my plans for tonight?” August’s voice was just as cold as the atmosphere that he radiated. A hand wrapped around your neck and with a tight grip, August pulled you to stand. The girl's legs fell onto the mattress, but she was smart enough not to let out any sound of displeasure.

“You did, your majesty,” you answered him hesitantly. Of course you knew you’d get punished for starting your dinner without waiting for August to arrive. But as the girl was brought into the bedroom by one of August’s men, you just couldn’t hold back. She was gorgeous, she smelt delicious, and you were hungry, both for touch and blood after a long week away from your king.

As soon as August’s hand left your jaw, you dropped to your knees. “Please forgive me, your majesty. I was too hungry and you were working. I thought, you'd like…”

“Enough!” August hissed. “I will teach you a lesson, my queen.” He dragged out the last two words, ridiculing the meaning, and it really hurt you. Until now, him calling you his queen was always a sign of affection, an intimate pet name.

Without any effort, he picked you up and placed you on the padded armchair. The wetness between your legs surely would leave marks on the soft velvet, but that wasn’t something August cared about. In swift motions, August wrapped soft red rope around your wrists and ankles, fixing you to the furniture, his fingers skillfully tightening the knots. You knew those ropes, August and you had played with them often enough.

“You already had a taste, so you surely won’t mind watching me getting my portion. Ah wait, technically you won’t be able to watch me.” August chuckled and turned the heavy armchair with you on it away from the bed to face the big mirror. You had always wondered why August had it in his bedroom. Now you knew it was a utility for punishment. Because what else was it to know that this unearthly beautiful creature was here in all its naked glory and your eyes were robbed off his sight.

You whimpered just from thinking what was to come. August's fingers brushed slowly over your bare form, from your thigh up over your waist and rib cage to the swell of your breast. When he touched your hardened nipple you couldn't suppress a small moan and August answered it by pinching it hard, which made you gasp even louder.

But then he was gone. From the opposite corner of the room came the telling noises of a belt being unbuckled and clothes tossed to the floor. Then you heard a faint creak as August got onto the bed. You saw the mattress dip and the girl moving to the side. She was throwing a wide smile at your beloved, you knew, even though you couldn't see him.

And then you watched how August took the beautiful girl apart that was supposed to be your companion for the night as much as his. Her legs opened wide and her head fell back, gasps and moans slipping her beautiful lips. You wondered if August was using his fingers to pleasure her or his mouth. Maybe both. Not knowing was part of his lesson. And he was right, you already regretted your impatience.

You watched as the girl's eyes fluttered shut in response to August's endeavors, and you heard him talking to her, saying all the sweet praises that he loves to share generously. You noticed that the girls' sounds got louder and more desperate, her hips thrusting upwards to meet whatever August offered her for her pleasure, and August noticed too. The moans stopped and the girl let out a whimper that was almost a plea.

“You're not allowed to come yet, sweet little human. Your blood would be too sweet, not what my disobedient queen deserves tonight.” But soon enough, the girl's whimpers told you that August had started to fulfill her needs again.

The sound of skin smacking against skin told you he started fucking her in earnest. Her head fell on the bed as she arched her back in a deep moan and August's own noises made you clench your legs together as good as you could with your ankles being tied to the chair.

“August, please!” You begged, his title forgotten in your despair. August snarled as he heard your plea.

“Desperate little minx, now you beg?” A second later, August was beside you. Your eyes roamed over his appearance, thankful that you were finally able to see him again. His body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and his curls were falling unruly into his forehead. He looked like the beast he was.

“Will you disobey me again?” he asked, his eyes piercing and cold.

“Never, your majesty.” Your voice was breaking. “Please, your majesty, I am willing to submit. Just please let me feed.” August grabbed your jaw roughly.

“You will not misbehave again, or your punishment will be far more cruel. Now acknowledge my mercy and show me that you've learned your lesson.” August loosened the knots that held you in place. You fell to your knees immediately.

“Thank you for your kindness, your majesty.” you breathed, kissing his feet.

August fisted your hair, tugging you up, and guided you to the bed. He made you straddle the girl who was watching you both with her chest heaving and eyes wide. She bit her lip as August pulled her to him, her head falling over the edge of the bed.

“Now that looks like a good girl, aren't you a good girl, sweet little human?” August praised her and the girl gasped as he petted her cheek.

Her mouth opened as soon as August pressed the leaking tip of his cock onto her wet lips. You sat and watched as August pushed into her throat in long, languish strokes.

And the girl was good, she took him deep, almost to the hilt. Her eyes were wide and tears were running down her cheeks, but her arms wrapped around August's thighs told you she wanted him right where he was. With growing desire you studied how he moved inside her.

Tears were running down the girl's face, new ones building with every deep thrust into her throat. August's fingers brushed some of them away before he let them wander to her neck.

With a long growl, August appreciated the girl's aptitude to take him. His grip tightened, and you knew he was able to feel himself fucking the girl's mouth. His rhythm got faster, snapping his hips relentlessly forward.

“Good girl, your impressive work will be rewarded soon.” His hand left her neck and reached for her breasts, meticulously tracing the soft swell of them and the pebbled buds in their center.

You watched him, taking in every little detail: His curls, falling into his forehead. Drops of sweat, running down his temple, over his clenched jaw and down his neck. His muscles, moving under his soft skin with every jolt. His wet length disappearing in a mouth you wished was yours.

A whimper escaped your mouth and August's head shot up, his gaze falling onto you. For a brief moment, he considered tormenting you further, you observed. But then you finally heard the words that freed you.

“You're allowed to feed, my queen.” Immediately you let yourself fall forward and sank your fangs into the delicate neck of the girl. She might not yet carry the evidence of euphoria in her blood, but she tasted sweet nevertheless. And the fact that you could feel August's cock thrust into her while you sucked at her throat made it all more delicious than you could have imagined.

Hungrily you lapped at the girl's throat. It was desperate and messy, but you didn't care. It didn't take long until you felt sated, and you parted your mouth from the girl's skin. You licked and kissed the fresh wound, but then August grabbed your chin between his thumb and index and pulled you up to him.

His thumb brushed over your plump lower lip, gathering some drops of blood, and then he pushed it into your mouth to lick it clean. Your tongue circled his digit and you started to suck on it. You wanted to protest when he withdrew his finger from you again, but then his mouth took its place.

His tongue forced itself into you, desperate to get a taste of the sweet girl's blood. August's kiss was deep and violent. His tongue brushed over your fangs, catching every last drop of blood before he drew back, leaving you panting.

Your lover's attention turned back to the girl who was still pinned between your thighs, her mouth still filled with August’s throbbing cock.

“You did wonderfully, sweet human.” August pulled out and bent down to kiss the girl on her forehead. “Now tell me, how do you want me to make you come?” His hands were roaming over her beautiful curves as he awaited her answer. But it never came. Probably totally overwhelmed, the girl did nothing as to stare at the man who was bent over her. August realized her struggle and helped her find some words.

“Do you want me to please you with my tongue? Do you want me to fuck you? Your pussy? Your ass?” A whimper left her lips at his last word. August's mouth spread into a wide grin.

“Your ass it is?” he asked once more and the girl finally found her voice. “Please, your majesty!”

August left his place at the edge of the bed for a moment and you guided the girl to kneel in the meantime. When August got back, he threw a bottle of lube and an assortment of toys onto the bed next to the two of you. He followed, positioning himself behind her back.

“Am I allowed to kiss her, your majesty?” you asked carefully. August's face appeared behind the back of the girl while his hands continued to stray over her body. With a raised eyebrow, he appeared to be considering various options on how to go on with you.

“You may get your hands and lips on the girl. Make her feel good. But you are not allowed to touch me. And you are not allowed to touch yourself. No grinding, nothing to ease your ache.” He waited expectantly for your reaction, and it was hard for you to hide your frustration, but you managed to bow your head and whisper a “Thank you, your majesty.”

August turned to the girl again. He took the lube and covered his fingers as well as the crack of the girl's ass with it and started to work her open, so she’d be able to take his girthy cock. The girl gasped as he pushed his finger into her.

You crawled over until you were positioned with your head between her legs. You had to keep yourself busy, else the need you felt between your legs would drive you insane. So you started to run your fingers through her slit, gathering her slick and spreading it all over her pussy. You circled her clit and got rewarded with a needy whimper.

August decided it was time to add another finger and the girl jerked in surprise, only to press herself against his hand the next moment. Your fingers went back to her entrance, too, and carefully, not to touch August who was working only inches away on her other hole, you shoved two of your digits into her warm, wet pussy. You lifted your head and let your tongue work around her swollen clit.

The girl was squirming, overwhelmed by the sensations August and you made her feel. Her screams were echoing through the room. You enjoyed making her feel like this, you almost forgot how much you wanted to feel like her, too. Pressing your knees together, you felt your pussy throbbing, your juices dripping down already.

August grabbed the girl by her hips and pulled her back to him, but before he aligned himself to fuck her, he grabbed one of the toys and held it out to you. “Fill her up, I want to feel you fuck her,” he commanded.

You obeyed, taking the thick dildo and ran it through the girls slit a few times to gather her arousal. Then you pushed it into her slowly, letting her adjust to the toy.

As soon as you had it buried completely in her, you started to fuck her with it. After you fell into a steady, slow rhythm, your mouth closed on her clit again and you sucked while your hand kept thrusting the toy into her.

“That’s it, my queen, make her relax, make her able to take me.” You flushed at the praise you finally got from your lover, but you kept your pace. August shifted behind the girl, and when she cried out you knew he had entered her.

The two of you worked together well, alternating in filling her holes while you kept up lapping at her bundle of nerves. The sounds of pleasure both of the girl and August filled the room, and it only made your ache grow. Your whole body was under tension and you knew you needed to explode, but you couldn’t. You weren’t allowed to.

The girl shuddered, her legs were trembling as she cried out. You removed the toy, substituting it with your fingers, and you felt her walls clenching around you hard, as well as you felt August’s dick thrusting into her mercilessly.

The next moment, August pulled the girl’s back flush against his chest and his mouth assaulted her neck. With a snarl his fangs pierced her skin and he drank hungrily from her. All the while he kept slamming his cock into her and you kept your fingers working her pussy while pressing your tongue onto her oversensitive bud.

August finally jerked back his head with a growl and slammed his hips hard into the girl as he filled her with his seed. Then he went back to lapping on her wound and cradling her in his arms.

“Hush, you did good, sweet little human. So good!” Blood was running down his stubbled chin, as you watched him whispering more words of praise to the girl who lay totally spent in his arms.

“My queen, come here.” You didn’t need another word. You got up on your knees immediately, wrapping your arms around the girl and August. Her heart was racing in her chest and you brushed your hands over her hair, trying to calm her.

When August felt like she was doing better, he carefully lay her back onto the mattress and covered her with his soft satin sheets. He bent down to kiss her cheek, leaving a little stain of blood that he rubbed away with his fingers.

Then his eyes fell on you, as you knelt next to them, your own chest still heaving. August gestured you to come into his arms and you eagerly followed. His embrace felt like coming home. He guided your face to him and then he finally kissed you.

His mouth was the sweetest you’ve ever tasted and you devoured what he gave you at last. You spent what felt like hours just kissing and feeling each other, before he pulled away from you.

“So, did you learn your lesson, my queen?” His voice was still stern but not cold anymore. He watched you with a small smile as you nodded.

“Yes, your majesty. I regret my disobedience and I will not betray your trust again.” August kissed your forehead and took you in his arms again.

But then you felt the girl stirring next to you, coming back to her senses. August was about to take care of her and reached for her as you felt her hand on your thigh.

A stifled moan came from your lips before August could take the girl’s hand from you. Your whole body was still aching for touch and the brief sensation brought back your need in full force.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” August asked, his voice sweet but surely still intimidating to the girl.

“I want to make her feel good, too. What she did to me was wonderful.” The girl’s eyes switched between you and the king and August’s face told her immediately that this was not going to happen.

“I appreciate your generosity and your kindness, but my queen will not be included in this today. Obedience is something I value deeply and I can’t tolerate my beloved disrespecting me.” The girl nodded understandingly, even though there was still a pout on her full lips. She sat up, looking through the room.

August brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “What do you need? Cuddles, sleep, a bath? You can join us in our bed or I can send Will to guide you to a private room. You can stay as long as you want.” The girl seemed to be surprised by the changed attitude of the king. She clearly hadn’t expected him to take care of her after he had used her for his pleasure.

“A private room would be lovely.” she said. “Assuming there’s a bathtub close.” August and you both chuckled softly. You got up and handed the girl the soft robe she had worn when she arrived. August opened the door and talked to Will, who was standing guard in the hall. The younger vampire entered the room and wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulder, not batting an eye over your naked bodies or the mess of blood and other bodily fluids on the sheets.

As Will and the girl had left the room, August turned to you. “I will go take a shower.” You already started to head towards the bathroom, too, when August stopped you.

“You won’t join me. You will wait here. On your knees.” His hand on your shoulder, he guided you to kneel down on the thick and soft rug. At least he allowed you so much.

Your frustration and despair peaked when you saw that August had the silk ropes in his hand again. He took his sweet time to bind your legs, knot for knot. Then he moved to your chest, waving the cords to a harness. And finally, he guided your arms behind your back, tied your wrists together and wrapped the last inches of rope around your arms in expertly crafted knots. Then you felt chill fabric cover your eyes and August tied the satin blindfold behind your head. After a chaste kiss on your forehead, he left you alone and disappeared into the bathroom.

You heard the water starting to fall and August whistling a bright tune, knowing too well that he only did this to increase your torture. Your senses reduced, you felt the ache in your knees as well as the ache in your core. You tried to calm yourself, tried not to think about the vampire that was standing in the shower only a few steps away from you. But you couldn’t.

After what felt like hours, the water stopped as well as the melody on August’s lips. You still imagined August, his wet body, his chest, covered by just the right amount of hair, his strong thighs and the veiny cock, springing out between them.

You were so deep into your fantasy that you hadn’t even noticed that the real August was standing next to you until his deep chuckle startled you. You gasped and August’s chuckle transformed into a real laugh. His hand cupped your cheek.

“Will you respect my wishes in the future, my queen?” he asked you, his words only a whisper but yet intimidating.

You held your breath for a second before answering. “Yes, your majesty. I learned my lesson and I will not disobey you ever again. I will show you all my respect and I will never disappoint you again.” Your voice was trembling. You were hoping that he would finally accept your apologies and let you have at least his arms and his bed for the rest of the night. Even though a small little voice in your head still hoped for more.

August pulled you up by the ropes on your chest and it took you a little to be able to stand without trembling. But as soon as you were steady enough, he pushed you forward until your hips crashed against something soft and yet solid. The recamier at the end of his bed, it came to your mind, as August pressed his hand on your back to bend you over it.

A sigh, relieved and desperate at the same time, escaped you as you felt his fingers running through your folds. Without any prior warning, he shoved two fingers inside you. It didn’t matter, your rejected heat had you prepared for this. The small voice in your head grew louder, maybe August showed you more mercy than you expected him to. But there were still doubts. If he left you again, now after giving you this tiny bit of attention, you would break.

As he pumped his curled fingers into you and made your riled up body already build up a high, he whispered in your ear: “You are lucky, my queen, that my heart can’t stand seeing you suffer. And my cock can’t stand seeing this pussy dripping wet and yet ignored. So you better be thankful for what I give you now because you didn’t earn it.”

He withdrew his fingers and the next moment his cock drove into you, stretching your walls and leaving you whimpering. He fucked you hard, brutal even. His hips crashed into your ass while his hands held you in place, one pressing down your chest to the furniture while the other one held your hip in a steely grip.

You couldn’t care less. He gave you everything you had craved for hours. His attitude probably made it even easier to bring you to your long-awaited climax. It took him only a few hard thrusts until you were screaming and clenching around his cock.

August didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. He kept ramming into you with full force and your second orgasm almost took you by surprise. Your tied legs couldn’t hold you anymore, so you just hung over the armrest and took every jolt of the vampire king with a gasp, as your lungs were robbed of air.

You felt how August lost his composure, speeding up his already frantic rhythm. And just the thought of him cumming inside of you gave you another high. So you were both screaming, your own cry muffled through the padding of the chair, when August finished.

He pulled you to stand, more gentle now, and he untied the knots that held your arms and legs. His hands kneaded the skin that was marked by the ropes and kissed your shoulder briefly. You felt his seed dripping from you and running down your legs. But August refused to offer you the tender clean up that he usually enjoyed. Instead, he moved to the bed, replaced the messy sheets with new ones and dropped to the mattress.

“Get yourself cleaned up and come to bed, my queen.” he told you.

As you stood alone in the shower, washing off the reminants of your night, you knew that August had succeeded. You had learned his lesson of obedience.

#vampire!august #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic #august walker #vampire au #vampire king!August #believe in me #my writing

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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months

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Daddy Knows Best, Part II

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part II

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll take a giant leap.

Warnings: age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), pet names (Princess, Babydoll), Daddy kink, corruption kink, praise kink, somnophilia, pregnancy kink, dacryphilia, lactation kink, cockwarming, (slight) choking, deflowering, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, cum swallowing, Murder Daddy™️ vibes, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

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I am such a lucky man.

Any man in my situation might do the right thing. But when has that ever gotten anyone what they really wanted?

Looking at a perfect flower from afar is just fine, don’t get me wrong. You bend over, you smell it, you leave it to bloom. But plucking that flower and holding it in your hand? Now that is a truly heavenly feeling.

That’s what it was like with my little Babydoll.

It was a cautious dance. I had to earn her trust. She was Daddy’s little girl, after all. She had her loyalties and she did not like me at first. She didn’t explicitly say it but she missed her father. Who could blame her?

But she was so perfect. And I wanted her. She had to be mine.

And so she would be.

It started with little things. I made sure to get the snacks that she coveted. I called her Princess. I smiled at her and always listened intently to whatever stupid topic she wanted to talk about. She would get so excited to talk to someone who would listen.

I got the feeling her mother wasn’t exactly her favorite person. She was much closer with her Nanny. I was shocked to find out that she still had a caregiver at her age, but one look at their relationship and it made so much sense. I convinced her mother that she wouldn’t need a Nanny any longer and that I would be taking over watching after her.

Her sheltered upbringing kept her so innocent in so many ways. It was like her parents fucking gift-wrapped her for me to corrupt. And with Nanny out of the way, I had her all to myself with no prying eyes.

That day she got the sunburn was a godsend. I watched as she slept in the backyard, the sun illuminating her olive skin. I could have easily gone to wake her up, but I wanted her to need me. I wanted her to call for me.

And soon enough, I hear her voice shout my name. It was burned in my brain.

As I rubbed the aloe on her warm skin, I knew I wanted to be her Daddy. She needed an authority figure to take care of her, and I took on that role. Since her mother was off in her own world, it would afford me the ability to become her everything.

The way to her heart was care. I told her I would never hurt her, and proceeded to spank her plump little ass. She forgave me afterward, of course. When I wiped her tears and tasted them? Fuck, I didn’t think my dick could get any harder.

And when she didn’t know what to call her perfect little pussy? Fuck! I’ve replayed that moment in my head so many times. I’ll admit, calling it her ‘princess parts’ was entirely self-indulgent. Knowing she was never touched only made me want to forget the plan and fuck her right then.

But there was a time for everything. I settled for eating her delicious pussy. Her sweet face contorting and enjoying my tongue had me hard as a rock. Seeing her cum for the first time was a sight to behold. Fingering her tightness had me wanting to test the elasticity of that wet fuckhole.

Damnit, she was perfect.

When I heard her moan for Daddy and knew she meant me, my soul left my body for a moment. It came back so I could take care of her and have the mental image of her in my clothing. She looked so cute and, at the same time, she looked fuckable.

It actually hurt my dick to look at her in my clothes. I had to have her. I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed her and I refused to let this opportunity slip past me. Her mother wasn’t due to be home for hours.

While she slept, I let my hands explore.

Her soft tummy under my calloused hand gave me ideas. What if it was swollen and round with my child? Far too soon to even be thinking about that, she hasn’t even seen my dick yet and I’m already thinking about knocking her up.

I turned her on her back and pulled my shirt up over her tits. Perfect handfuls for me, with areolas that harden at my touch. The way they tightened as I circled them with a finger was almost too much for me. I felt my dick swell as I thought about them bloated with milk. I took one pebbled nipple into my mouth and imagined that she coated my tongue with sweet nectar. When I switched to the other nipple, she stirred in her sleep. I pulled off of her breast and looked down at her peaceful form.

The irony of the urge to impregnate this virgin wasn’t lost on me. I wouldn’t put it past my subconscious to think it could create the next Messiah. I do tend to be a bit ‘larger than life’ at times. I mean, who else but a true sociopath would dream of corrupting an innocent soul?

Fuck it. Call me a sociopath. I won’t lose sleep over it. I’ll be too busy molding her pussy to the shape of my dick.

The first step to doing that was getting my dick inside her. I freed her of my underwear and opened her legs. Placing my palm over her cunt, I could feel the heat that radiated from it. I loved the little tuft of hair on her mound. I preferred it fuzzy anyway.

I slid my fingers down and felt the wetness that escaped her lips. I coated my fingers in her juices and didn’t hesitate to put them into my mouth. She was so fucking tasty. I was addicted to the taste of her and there was no going back.

As if I wanted to go back after today.

You awoke to the feeling of rubbing on your princess parts. You had tried to stay asleep but you realized you aren’t wearing Daddy’s underwear anymore. You opened your eyes and looked up to see Daddy smiling down at you.

“Babydoll, you were so pretty while you slept. Daddy couldn’t help himself and had to touch you again.”

You wiggled your little hips, trying to get as much friction on your clitty as possible. You bit your bottom lip and tossed your head to the side in pleasure. Your sweet moans were music to Daddy’s ears if the plastered smile on his face was anything to go by.

“Daddy has a special treat for you, Babydoll,” Daddy pulled his hand away and you whined at the loss of contact. You watched as Daddy kneeled in front of you and unzipped his pants. He pulled a bottle out of his pocket that had a purple label on it and tossed it to the bed. “Daddy wants you to take his dick out.” He pulled you to a sitting position and guided your hand inside his pants.

When you had made contact with soft skin, you wrapped your fingers around its hardness. You pulled it out and the groan that Daddy made went right to your core. You couldn’t fit one hand around it so you used both of them to hold it.

Daddy’s large hand covered both of yours and moved them up and down. The silky smooth skin moved through your fingers and Daddy picked up the bottle and uncapped it. He poured some of the liquid over your hands and told you to spread it around. You smiled up at him as your hands became slippery and Daddy’s moans became louder.

“Lay back, Babydoll. Daddy is gonna touch your princess parts with his dick. It’s gonna hurt at first, but Daddy will try and be gentle.” Daddy put one of your legs over his arm as he leaned over you. He poured some of the liquid on you and you shivered as the cold liquid slid over your sensitive clitty and traveled downward, “Take a deep breath and then let it out, Princess.”

You breathed in and held it. When you let it out, Daddy tore through you with his dick. The stretch burned and you started to cry.

“Daddy, it hurts!” You hiccupped as fat tears rolled down your face.

“Fuck, Babydoll. You know I love it when you cry for me. It’s gonna stop hurting soon. Just…fuck, your tight little cunny is holding my dick so tight and keeping it warm,” He wraps your legs around his waist and holds your head in his hands. He looked down at you and kissed your tears away, “Daddy’s gonna start moving now. You feel so good, better than I thought you would feel. I want you to tell me to fuck you, Babydoll.”

You looked up at Daddy and sniffled. “Please fuck me, Daddy. Make it stop hurting, please?”

You felt him twitch inside you as he growled low in his throat. He pulled out slowly then slammed back in. Your body jerked with the speed of his hips against yours. The sounds of wet slapping filled your ears, mixed with Daddy’s grunts and your yelps.

He whispered in your ear while he impaled you over and over, “Babydoll, fuck! You are making Daddy so happy. Taking my dick so well. You’re being such a good girl for me. Such…a…good…girl!” He punctuated his words with thrusts into your tight heat.

Soon, the pain slowly dissipated and you were left overwhelmed with the feeling of fullness. An involuntary moan escaped your lips and Daddy chuckled. His hand moved down to play with your clitty and it was all over for you. Within moments, you were clenching around him and crying again from the heightened intensity.

“Yes, come all over my dick. You’re my good little fucktoy, aren’t you? Say it, Babydoll.”

“I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy.”

“Keep saying it, Babydoll. I’m so fucking close. Just keep saying it.” The hand that was on your clitty had moved to your neck. The slightest hint of pressure kept you still while he continued his onslaught.

“I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy. I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy. I’m Daddy’s good little fucktoy.” You repeated the mantra and watched as Daddy’s face contorted and he let out a slew of bad words.

“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna fucking cum. Shit, shit, shit!” Daddy pulled out and stroked himself once, twice. On the third stroke, thick white ropes shot out of him and onto your belly. It just kept coming and you watched in awe. Daddy looked to be in pain but he kept stroking until all that came out was a few drops. He looked exhausted, so when he collapsed next to you, you weren’t surprised.

“Daddy?” You ran a finger through the sticky fluid and touched your first finger to your thumb to see the elasticity of it.

“That’s my cum, Babydoll. You were such a good girl and I wanted to give you a special treat. Open your mouth, baby,” You opened your mouth and Daddy scoops up some of his cum and puts it on your tongue. You swirled the salty substance on your tongue before swallowing. “That’s my good girl, swallowing Daddy’s cum like a perfect Princess. Can Daddy have a kiss?”

“On the lips?” You’ve never been kissed before and suddenly you were nervous.

“Yes, Babydoll. Daddy promises he doesn’t care if you haven’t kissed anyone before. Daddy needs to taste you. Just stay still, and Daddy will show you, ok?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Your breathing picked up as Daddy leaned into you and put his mouth over yours. He exhaled through his nose and his mustache tickled you. He held the back of your head while he kissed you. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips and you opened your mouth to let him in. When Daddy’s tongue massaged your own, you brought a hand up to get lost in Daddy’s curly mane. You swallowed the groan that rumbled through him.

Daddy broke the kiss and set his forehead against yours. He looked blissful and tired and all you wanted to do was keep kissing him. You moved your head to kiss him again and he nibbled at your bottom lip before peppering you with kisses all over your face. You giggled and playfully pushed him away so you could stretch and sit crosslegged.

He sat up and got out of the bed. He walked around it and crouched down to speak to you at your eye level. He took your hands and made you look at him. With a serious look on his face, he spoke.

“Babydoll, I want you to promise me that only Daddy gets to kiss you and only Daddy gets to put his dick in you. You don’t let other boys touch your princess parts. If a boy ever does that, you tell me and I’ll take care of it, ok?”

“Take care of it?” What did that mean?

“Nobody gets to touch my Babydoll without Daddy’s explicit permission. Am I understood?” Daddy looked like he had a fire in his eyes. Daddy wanted to protect you. And he might do anything to keep you safe.

“Only Daddy gets to touch me. I understand, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now, why don’t you go take a shower and Daddy will go start on dinner. I have your favorite for dessert tonight.” His bright smile was infectious and spread to your lips.

“You got the cannolis I like?” You couldn’t contain your excitement and squealed.

“Yes, I got the cannolis. Anything for my Babydoll. But you have to be a good girl all night if you want them. That means you keep what you and Daddy do all to yourself, ok Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy. I can keep a secret. I promise.”

Daddy’s smile widened and he pulled you up out of bed. He kissed your forehead, and your nose, and pecked your lips before he shooed you off to the bathroom to wash up.

You didn’t know it, but he watched your every step until you were out of sight.

As you showered, you thought about the cannolis and Daddy’s kisses. When you washed your princess parts, you felt that tingle like when Daddy touched you. You wanted to play more, but you were still sore so you finished washing up and got out of the shower.

After getting dressed, you went down to the kitchen and watched as Daddy made dinner. When Mommy came home, you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when Daddy kissed her. Daddy noticed your pout and kissed the top of your head and let you taste test the bolognese sauce.

Dinner went by smoothly, Mommy and Daddy talked about whatever while you spaced out. But when Daddy brought out the cannolis, you were back to your jovial self. You ate your cannoli and excused yourself from the table.

With a full belly of dinner and dessert, you retreated to your room. The musky scent of sex was all over your sheets and you reveled in it. You replayed the events of the day in your mind and you ached to have Daddy next to you again. He awoke something inside of you that only he had access to.

After today, everything changed. He wasn’t August anymore, he was Daddy. And you were his Princess, his Babydoll. Your hand gravitated to your princess parts again and the thought of Daddy’s hands all over you had you soaking your hand in moments. Tasting yourself again, you imagined it was Daddy’s cum and that he was pleased with you.

You drifted off to sleep shortly thereafter, the promise of more to come heavy on your head.

Part III

A/N: Ok, I think I still have more to write. But, do y’all want more?

**Tag List**

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

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sillyrabbit81 · 1 year

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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.”

#rabbitsmilestone23 #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fan fiction #august walker #august walker fanfiction #august walker fic #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #august walker x you #august walker fanfic #august walker x reader #august walker x female reader

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deandoesthingstome · 1 year

Text

Holiday Angel

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christmas break was officially on!

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie on the way?" you sympathized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ugh, god. Stop!"

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

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

"Your roommate Brigette?"

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

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

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

"What, missionary all the way?"

You both laughed until the tears were running.

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

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

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

"What was that?" Gemma asked.

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

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

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

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

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

"Why would I?"

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

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

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

While she slept, you thought about Mr. Walker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Coming?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'Girls', dad? Really?"

"What would you prefer?"

"Ladies?"

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

"Right then. There you go, ladies."

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

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

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

"Enjoying it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Here. Take it."

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

“There you go.”

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

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

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

"Thank you, Mr. Walker."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But he’ll be home tomorrow, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dinner here sounds great, dad. Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“August.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you be joining them?”

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

“Uh…”

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

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

“I am!” she grinned.

“Alone?”

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

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

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

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

“Always am,” Gemma exclaimed cheerfully.

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

“On a Sunday, dad, really?”

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

“You’re obsessed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hot tub,” you agreed.

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

“There you are.”

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

Gemma pulled you into a lingerie shop next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything okay?” he asked, chest heaving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallowed and nodded, unable to respond.

“They’re pretty.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you going to eat that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

“Into what?”

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

“And what do you want?”

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

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

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

“Can I help with the dishes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really do,” you whispered.

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

“It is.”

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

“Can I touch you August?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

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

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

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

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

“I would.”

“Very well then.”

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

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

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

“Yes, August. I want you.”

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

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

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

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

“Please, August,” you begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever been restrained, Angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Patience, little Angel.”

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

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

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

“Say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you’re sure you're ready.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hands and knees.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait.”

“Why?”

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

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

“Now, where were we?” he grinned.

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

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

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

“I can stop you at any time.”

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck, August, Fuck!”

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

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

“Please what, Angel?”

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

“Do you need me to stop?”

“I want you to come. Please August.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a start.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But why would…?”

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

“But I want you.”

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

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

“This isn’t fair,” you murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

“To one night only.”

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

You almost squealed as the flavors exploded in your mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I have your other arm, Angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

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

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

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

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

“We’d better get some sleep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” you answered brightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist · 8 months

Text

Daddy Knows Best Masterlist

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader

Dividers by: @saradika

Cover Art by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Spotify Playlist is here.

YouTube Music playlist is here.

Parts: I - II - III - IV - V (possibly on hiatus)

My Masterlist

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viking-raider · 2 years

Text

When In Rome...

Summary: You've been dating August Walker for several months and things are wonderful. Until one date night, August shows you a new side of him, and yourself.

Pairing: August Walker/Reader

Word Count: 8.5k

Warning: NC-17 - SMUT with a pinch of fluff! Soft Dom!August, inexperienced sub!Reader, Teeniest Switch!Reader, Multiple Orgasms, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Shower Masturbation, Body Fluids, Teasing, Fingering, Restraints, P in V, Cream Pie, Toys, Scratching, Spanking, Stimulation, Hand Job, Sensation play, Cock Warming, Blindfolds, minor Subspace, Soft!August, Aftercare

Inspiration: Netflix's How to Build a Sex Room. The title is a reference to the quote: "When in Rome, do as the Roman's do." which means; Go with the flow!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

You had been seeing August for several months, the two of you had met in Rome, where you were on vacation and August was on a work trip. You were admiring the magnificent Trevi fountain, when this, absolute, hulk of human being stepped up beside you, wearing a button down, plaid shirt and tight blue jeans with a dark and faded, Kansas City, Chiefs ball cap. You instantly tensed, and not because you were frightened by him, though he did have an intimidating edge about him. He was so damned handsome, that sharp jaw dusted with stubble and his upper lip crowned with a thick, but meticulously groomed, mustache. He towered above you and his muscles filled out his clothing in a way that you wondered how he wasn't popping buttons and seams.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” He purred in a deep, American accent, tilting his chin towards the fountain.

You blinked up at him several times, then finally glanced back at the piece of art. “Yeah, it's gorgeous.” You squeaked, throat tight.

“Almost three million cubic feet of water runs through the fountain, every day.” He said, rather nonchalantly.

“That's rather impressive!” You replied, looking at the fountain with surprise.

The strange man turned towards you, extending his hand. “I'm August.” He said, flashing a million dollar smile at you, that had your knees turning into jelly.

“Nice to meet you, August.” You replied, shaking his hand and introducing yourself.

“I couldn't help but notice you, and hope you don't find this too forward.” August began, holding your eyes, his deep and mysterious. “But would you like to grab lunch with me?” He asked, cocking his head at you.

You gasped softly, taken aback by his request, and stared up at him, your hand still ever-so-gently clutched in his hand, you felt enchanted by him. “I'd love to.”

From that lunch onward, being with August was always an adventure, globe-trotting, expensive dinners and gifts, and the sex was amazing! But you were about to learn about a whole new side of August Walker and experience a different adventure.

“I had a great night, August.” You sighed, relaxing in the passenger seat of his matte black, Bugatti Chiron.

“It's not over yet, love.” He smirked, resting his hand on your thigh, stroking the fabric of your black, cap sleeve dress with lace detail.

“Oh, is that so?” You grinned back at him.

“It definitely is.” August nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

You were excited to find out what August had in store for the rest of the night, as you looked out the window, the cityscape twinkling against the blackness of the night sky. But as you stared at the city, you realized you and August weren't on the right side of the city to be going back to August's apartment. You looked over at him, a small spark of suspicion and concern blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“Gus, I thought we were going back to your place.” You pointed it out.

“We are, sweetheart.” He replied, patting your thigh reassuringly. “Don't you worry.”

You nodded, trusting August.

The drive was quiet the rest of the way to your destination, where you eventually left the city behind, turning off of the highway and into an industrial section of town. You looked at August dubiously, but he just chuckled at you, brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek. He turned onto a short, gravel driveway of a gated property, entered the pass code and drove on towards a medium sized and unassuming, black painted, cinder-block warehouse.

“Is this where I find out you're really a serial killer?” You quipped, dryly.

August laughed, pulling into a single parking spot. “No, babe, it's not. If I was going to kill you, I would have done it after our first date.” He teased back, opening his door and stepping out, then moved around and opened your door, extending his hand to you.

You took August's hand and got out of the car, following him towards the main door of the warehouse, he punched in another pass code and swung the door open, before extending your hand forward and moving out of your way, indicating he wanted you to go inside first. You glanced up at him, before going through the dark portal, almost instantly blinded by bright lights that flickered on with the help of motion sensors. Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you gasped at what laid before you, it looked nothing like a warehouse, it looked more like a house!

The walls were covered in dark red and black, grass-cloth damask wallpaper with charcoal gray Kentucky Rose Crown molding and matching baseboard, the ceiling was painted black with small flecks of gold, lined with recess lighting and the concrete floor was high gloss and so polished, you could see your own reflection in it. The main room you stood in had a long leather couch, a low coffee table, a mini fridge and a flat screen tv, with two closed doors, one in front of you and one to your left. You jumped slightly, feeling August's hands suddenly on the zipper at your nape, but he calmed you with a gentle kiss to the nook of your neck, slowly pulling the zipper down, before slipping a hand inside the loose fabric, soothing a palm over your back and side, until he cupped your hip.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered into your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

You drew in a soft breath, your mouth working for a moment. “I-I do, August.” You whimpered, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Are you willing to have some fun with me?” He asked, tracing the rim of your ear with the tip of his nose, before lightly tugging on it with his teeth.

Your stomach flipped. “I can give it a try, for you, Gus.” You gulped, starting to breathe heavy.

“Excellent.” August smirked, gliding his hand up from your hip to your shoulder and pushed your dress off of it, followed by the other, allowing your dress to cascade down your body, like the trickle of water, and pool around your high heels. “Your safe word is: Rome.” He rumbled into your neck, wrapping an arm around your waist and hugging you back against him, allowing you to feel his growing arousal.

“A safe word?” You echoed, turning your face into the side of his and lifted a brow.

“Mmhm.” August nodded, smoothing his palm up your stomach and cupped your breast through the lace fabric of your bra, kneading and squeezing it. “Just in case you need a break or I do something you don't like, my sweet Lamb.”

“What would you do that I might not like?” You asked, frowning at him.

August chuckled at you, lifting his head and kissed you delicately on the lips. “All in due time, Lamb, all in due time.” He cooed against your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip for a second. “First things first though.” He said, moving away slightly, to unclasp your bra. “Finish getting undressed and go through that door over there.” He instructed you, pointing out the door straight ahead of you.

“What's over there?” You inquired, taking off your heels, removing your bra and slipping out of your panties, but gasped as August lightly smacked you on the ass. “What was that for!” You demanded, turning towards him.

“You're asking too many questions, Lamb.” He grinned at you, thoroughly amused by your inexperienced innocence. “Just be a good girl and do as I say.” He said, resting his hands on your shoulders and turned you back around to face the door, giving you a much more gentle pat on the bum, to get you going in its direction.

You shot August a look over your shoulder, but did as he asked, going up to the door and turned the black, curved lever knob, to reveal a well equipped bathroom on the other side. The walls and flooring were the same as the first room, but the ceiling was nothing but bright, high quality lighting panels, there was an enormous, acrylic, freestanding, overflow soaking tub to one side, the outside of it wrapped in copper accent. A metal and walnut shelf ran the length of the wall behind the tub, holding towels, wash clothes and loofahs, body washes, shampoos and conditioners, as well as all manners of bath salts. On the other side of the bathroom was a glass encased shower, with a rainfall shower head and jets coming out of the walls. You noticed metal grab bars bolted into the gray, transparent subway tile, at varying heights.

There were candles of all thickness and heights positioned about the room, on the floor, on shelves and around the tub, unlit. The bathroom had the most romantic feeling, which was odd for a bathroom, but you felt it encouraging your mood. What startled you though, were the things hanging on the wall on the other side of the tub, thick leather cuffs, with connectors, and a few things you hadn't a clue to their identity.

The door to the bathroom opened and August joined you, smiling at you sweetly, but his blue eyes held mischief and arousal. He was naked now himself, and he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, kissed you deeply and with a heated passion. You moaned into his mouth, flicking your tongue against his as it slipped into your mouth, hungry and dominant.

“God, you are gorgeous.” He growled, breaking the kiss and looking you over, like a hungry wolf.

“I would say the feeling is mutual.” You smirked back at him, hugging your arms around his waist. “So, what are we doing, Gus?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Showering.” He told you, unlocking your arms from around his waist and went over to the table against the wall, taking a loofah, wash cloth, bottle of body wash, shampoo and condition, then pulled you over to the shower and stepped inside with you.

“But I took a shower before our date.” You protested, softly. “Four hours ago.”

“Yes, I know.” August replied, closing the shower door and turned to the shower controls. “But I have standards for play time, so we'll wash again.” He told you, setting the water temperature and turning on the shower head, causing pleasantly warm water to rain down over your head, drawing out a moan.

“Are you going to tell me, what kind of play we're doing?” You asked, looking up at him.

“You're in the middle of it now, Lamb.” August smirked, wetting the wash cloth and wiped your makeup off, before popping open the shampoo and squeezed it into your hair.

“Wait a second, I can bath myself, good sir!” You protested, as August started to work the shampoo into a lather, batting his hands away.

August pressed his lips together, drawing in a long, deep breath and letting it out just the same, before rinsing his hands and stepped out of the shower, going over to the wall of cuffs and took a pair off, bringing them back to you.

“Oh no.” You shook your head, backing away from him.

“You're being a complicated Brat.” He said, still advancing on you, trapping you in the far corner. “I'm not going to put up with that.” He told you, reaching out and spun you around, pinning your arms behind you and shackled the soft, but strong, leather cuffs around your wrists and clipped them together with the small silver ring attached to them. “Mmm, you're even prettier in cuffs than I thought you would be, Lamb.” He cooed at you, biting his lip as he stared at your bound hands resting on the small of your back.

You twisted and tugged on them, but found they had no give.

“Are you ready to behave for me now?” He asked, grabbing you by the elbow and pulled you away from the wall, seeing the streaks of sudsy shampoo dripping down your face.

You pressed your lips together, eyes squeezed shut against the soap in your eyes, but didn't answer him, which only made him chuckle.

“Good girl.” He smiled, threading his fingers back into your hair and started working the shampoo into your scalp, gently wiping away the bits that trickled down your forehead, before more got into your eyes.

“Still don't get why you're bathing me.” You commented, even though it felt really good to have his strong fingers and hand to massage the conditioner into your hair.

“I told you, I have standards, and I know they're met, when I do them.” He explained, glancing down at you. “Plus, brownie points for me, I get to touch your nude body all over.” He smirked triumphantly, rinsing the conditioner out and picking up the loofah and unscented body wash.

You hummed, considering his words as he started to rub the soapy loofah over your chest and collarbone, his touch and attention was gentle, but thorough, working in even circles across your skin. You had to admit, this was rather nice, having someone else bath you, it wasn't degrading or childish, the look August gave you as he moved the sponge over your breasts, making you shiver from the sensation of the rough texture on your sensitive and hardening nipples, drawing out a loud moan that mixed in with the patter of droplets from the showerhead. August smirked at you, watching your push your chest forward against his hand and the loofah, clearly wanting more from the contact, but he continued on, caressing over your sides, watching you squirm as he touched the ticklish skin he knew was there, making you giggle involuntarily, a much different sound from the one you had made a moment before.

“August.” You whimpered, breathless, peering up at him.

“Mmhm.” He hummed back at you, nodding his head and smirking, smugly. “I think you'll enjoy play time a lot more now.” He said, turning you around, washing your arms and back. “That you're relaxed and clean.” He whispered, moving lower with the loofah, massaging your butt and slipping between your legs.

You whimpered, feeling him wash your privates, and found you couldn't hold yourself back, rocking against the length of the sponge gently. August laughed, seeing you rut against the loofah, working the soap into a frenzied lather between your clenched legs, whimpering and moaning as you stimulated your pussy on the coarse sponge. He was loving this little show, how unexpected it was, how much it turned him on. August held the loofah still, allowing you to rub yourself off on it, your eyes squeezed shut and lip clamped between your teeth. You pressed your forehead to August's chest to steady yourself, feeling your legs shake and the building of your orgasm in the pit of your belly.

“August!” You moaned, pressing your face harder into his wet body, tugging on your restraints. “Fuck, Gus!” You cried out, hugging your legs around the loofah and his hand.

“You going to come for me, Lamb?” August growled back at you, wrapping his free arm around you, helping to keep you up right, and feeling the thick droplets of your come wash over his hand and down your legs with the shower water. “Are you going to drench my hand, so I have to wash you again?” He huffed, his cock heavy between his thick thighs, twitched.

“God, yes!” You mewled, trembling as your climax came to a head.

“Look at me, then!” He snapped, but not harshly. “I want to watch you come, my love.” He cooed, slipping his hand under your chin and pushed your head back, so you looked him in the face. “Let me see that beautiful face, while you orgasm.”

You whined, breathing unevenly as you finally surrendered and gushed all over August's hand and the loofah, your knees going weak and folding together, thankfully August held you up as you continued to be rocked by the power of your pleasure, before falling forward against him, feeling like putty. August pressed a kiss to your forehead, grinning like a madman as he pulled the sponge from between your legs and dropped it to the floor, gently lifting you and setting you down on a wooden bench that was in the shower.

“That was quite the treat, Lamb.” He purred at you, then stepped back out of the shower to grab another clean loofah, and finished washing you, before showering himself.

You watched him wash, soaping that body not even the most skilled Greek sculptor could pull off with marble. A question popped into your mind, as you watched him clean between his legs, a soft smirk pulling across your lips. “I understand your standards now. But we're going to get messy again. So, what's the point of getting clean, only to get dirty again?” You inquired, as he carded his fingers through his curls, rinsing the conditioner out of them, while also washing the soap off his body.

August shot a sideways look at you, a little smirk pulling up one corner of his own mouth, amused you had clearly caught on to what was going on. “Who said we wouldn't be showering again, afterwards?” He asked, shaking his head, sending droplets flying and making you giggle at him.

“Fair enough, Walker. Fair enough.” You retorted, lifting your heavy foot to run it up and down the length of his thigh and the back of his knee.

“Someone's in a mood now.” August teased, turning the shower off and scooping you up, carrying you out of the shower and setting you down in the middle of the bathroom, so he could grab a towel.

“Are you going to take these off of me?” You asked, twisting your upper back to show him the cuffs you were still in.

“I will.” He nodded, unfolding a high thread count, black towel and started drying you off. “To put you in dry ones.” He added, smirking at you slyly.

“Ugh, of course!” You huffed, rolling your eyes at him.

August laughed, securing the towel around you, but paused for a moment to wrap his hand around your left bicep and felt the small, thin plastic implant that was under the skin of the inside of your upper arm, before crossing the room, to the black door of a small closet. He reached inside and removed a hanger off the rack, then turned back to you. Showing you what was on the hanger, a deep and shiny emerald green, silk nightie with spaghetti straps and black lace that decorated the breasts and bottom hem, he draped it over the edge of the tub for a moment, to remove your cuffs, tossing those aside, he took the nightie off the hanger and helped you slip into it, the garment just barely fell past your hips.

“Hm.” August hummed, grinning down at you, licking his lips and nodding his head. “I've imagined you in this, many times.” He whispered, letting out a low moan.

“Took you long enough to dare introduce me to it.” You quipped back, stroking the exposed skin of your chest, just above the v-neckline of the garment.

August touched his finger underneath your chin. “We'll see, once we get into the playroom.” He smirked, taking your hand and led you through the door you'd originally come through.

“Playroom?” You repeated, squeezing his hand, and sneaking a peek at his butt. “You didn't strike me as a man that played with toys.” You teased him, nervously, daring to give his rump a pinch with your free hand, making him snap a narrow eyed glance over his shoulder at you.

“Imp.” He huffed, shaking his head. “But you saw a prelude to the toys I play with, Lamb.” He said, stopping at the second door in the main room.

“I did indeed, can't be much worse.” You commented, before he opened the door.

A grin stretched across August's lips as he pushed the door open, revealing his coveted playroom. You took a step forward, poking your head inside and letting your mouth fall open at the space, filled with all sorts of equipment, implements and pieces of furniture.

“I stand corrected.” You gulped, mouth hanging open.

August stroked the back of your hair. “I'll be gentle with you.” He promised, moving around you and into the room. “You remember your safe word?” He asked, lifting a brow at you.

“Rome.” You replied, nodding at him feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach.

“Do you want to use it?” He inquired, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his skilled and observant eyes detecting your nerves, but also a hint of curiosity.

You licked your lips and looked around the room one more time, before settling your eyes back on August. “No.” You shook your head. “Not yet, at least.”

“Very well, then.” August nodded, reaching out and taking your hand, slowly leading you further into the room that took up most of the rest of the square footage of the warehouse. “Well, I know my Lamb can take being cuffed.” He smirked, massaging his thumb over the top of your hand. “So, let's start with that again.” He said, letting go of your hand and approached the wall of neatly organized implements, picking a pair of cuffs off a hook.

“These cuffs will be gentler on your wrists.” He said, having noticed the red marks on your skin, from twisting and pulling on the other set of leather cuffs. “They are lined with padded velvet.” He explained, coming back to you and motioned for you to hold your hands out to him.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you did as you were instructed, holding your arms out to August, allowing him to slip the soft and comfortable restraints around your wrists and pull the strap taut, securing them together with the buckle clip. He probed his fingers inside the cuffs, making sure they weren't too tight, as to cut off the circulation in your hands, then nodded with satisfaction, before grabbing the makeshift leash that dangled between them. He used it to pull you over to a strange contraption.

It was like an over-sized, step stool, made of metal and the two steps were thickly padded.

“Knees on the bottom step, torso on the top one.” August explained to you, letting go of the leash.

“All right.” You gulped, moving up to it, bracing your hands on the top the best you could, with them being bound together, and planted your knees on the bottom, steadying yourself for a moment, even casting August a look, but he just lifted his brows at you, his head dropping forward slightly, making it clear for you to keep it up.

So, you shifted until you found a comfortable spot for your knees, then leaned forward, pressing your chest to the top step, your nightie pulling up to the small of your back and exposing your bare bum to August, who reached out to caress it with his palm, for a moment, then lifted it away and brought it back, the slap echoing in the vast room with your surprised yelp. You started to turn around and protest, but August grabbed the leash attached to your cuffs and pulled you back down onto the padded step.

“No, you don't.” He chided you, shaking his head, disapprovingly. “Naughty girl.” He chuckled, releasing the buckle of your cuffs, before leaning over and grabbed one of the black chain hard points that were attached to each leg of the bench, clipping it to the loop on your right cuff, then did the same with the left. “There, that'll keep you in place, Lamb.” He cooed, licking his lips and moving to stand beside you, running his fingertips along the length of your spine, stopping just short of your rump, watching your shiver at the contact.

“You like that, Lamb?” He asked, lifting a brow at you, taking note, as he glided his fingers back up towards your neck, smiling as you nodded. “Sensation. Hmm, let's see where this goes, sweet girl.” He hummed, moving away from you.

“August.” You gulped, fidgeting and gently tugging on your restraints, making them rattle against the metal legs.

“Sir.” August corrected you, bluntly. “While we're in this section of the building, you'll call me; Sir.” He explained to you, opening a drawer. “Understood, Lamb?”

You blinked at him, biting your lip. “Sir.” You squeaked, then cleared your throat. “What are you going to do to me?” You asked, worried.

“We're going to play with your sensation, Lamb.” He answered, smirking at you. “I also told you, I would be gentle with you. So, you have nothing to be afraid of.” He reminded you, taking out a weird looking object, it had a long handle with a wheel of spikes on it, then moved over to another drawer, grabbing several various types of bottles.

August set those items on a table in front of you, then disappeared for a few minutes, coming back with a bowl of steaming water and set it on the table with them. He moved back to the drawers, picking a couple things out. He stared into one drawer, debating if he should take out the toy he had his eyes on, but worried you might not be ready for it yet. So, August closed the drawer and returned to the table, leaving the toy for another possible time. He put the object in his hand into the warm water, then turned to you.

“Leave that to warm up first, then we'll play with it.” He said to you, picking up a red, silk blindfold and delicately tying it over your eyes, before grabbing one of the bottles, a bottle of lubrication, and popped the cap open, single handed.

You shifted and wiggled on the bench, now that you were blindfolded, your other senses were on high alert. Your ears twitched to every sound August made around you, the sharp pop of something opening and the squirt of something thick, you tilted your head side to side, trying to identify what it was you were hearing. The air in the room wasn't cold on your bare skin, but it wasn't warm either, it was almost perfect. You felt the way the fabric of your nightie rode up on your back and bunched between you and the seat of the bench, the metal of the legs were cool against your skin as you gripped them, finding it was easier and more comfortable to lay almost limp on the top step.

You felt the shift of air as August stepped in front of you, the warmth of his naked body heat, the scent of his clean skin. Moaning softly and tilting your head up, you took a deeper breath in of his scent, having never noticed just the natural smell of his skin before. It was usually masked by his normal body wash and cologne, but since he washed it all away with the unscented soap, it gave you free access to his true scent, and you couldn't get enough of it. It was alluring, dusky and raced straight between your legs.

Tugging up the back of your nightie, to expose your back, August squeezed a teeny bit of lube onto your left shoulder-blade, then rubbed it in. “Tell me, what you feel.” He whispered to you, brushing his fingers through the back of your hair.

You focused on that spot on your shoulder, there was no feeling, at first, then it began to feel quite strange, like the beginning of your fingers or toes falling asleep, after laying in an awkward position for too long. It was numbing—no, it was tingling!

“It tingles.”

“Very good.” August praised you, patting the back of your head. “It's tingling lube.” He said, putting the bottle on the table and picking up another one, applying it to your right shoulder-blade.

At first, you started at the cold of the lube touching your otherwise warm skin, after a few moments though, the heat grew in intensity, however it wasn't unpleasant or overbearing. “It's warm! Very warm, Sir.” You answered, rubbing your thighs together, the sensation of the tingle and intense heat on your shoulders were starting to make you wet.

August smirked, watching you rut, then moved on, squeezing a line of lube down the length of your spine, making you gasp with shock, instantly knowing what this sensation was.

“Cold, like an ice cube!” You quivered, the interchanging of heat, tingle and cold battling each other to be the main sensation you felt on your back was intoxicating and maddening.

“Open your mouth, Lamb.” August instructed you, holding his fingers up to your lips.

Obeying, you parted your lips and August slipped his coated fingers inside your mouth, resting them heavily on your tongue.

“Close and suck.”

Moaning, you sealed your lips around his two thick digits and sucked, until you had a vacuum seal around them. You tasted the sticky substance on his fingers, it made you frown, it wasn't anything you had tasted before. Shaking your head, you probed his fingers with your tongue, trying to place what you were tasting on them, sucking them deeper into your mouth, until it struck you. You pulled your head back, August's fingers popping out of your mouth with thick strings of drool.

“Chocolate.” You moan, your voice sultry.

“Mmhm.” August nodded, his eyes heavily hooded. “You didn't get dessert during our date at the restaurant.” He quipped, saucily, coating his fingers with a different lube. “Last one, Lamb.” He cooed, stuffing your mouth with his fingers once again.

The flavor of this lube exploded in your mouth, and you chuckled, August was purposely teasing you with this one, it was your favorite flavor. You didn't pull away from his fingers this time, suckling on them, cleaning off every bit of the delicious lube, before August removed his own digits, thumbing away the drool from your lips.

“I liked that one, Sir.” You purred at him, licking your lips.

“I'm positive you did, Lamb.” August chuckled, lightly caressing your back, before picking up the strange instrument and touching it to your chilled spine, making you start as he rolled the pointy spikes, gently up and down your back.

“Wh-what is...th-that?” You moaned, wiggling, it felt so odd and so good at the same time, especially on your cold vertebra.

“Wartenberg wheel.” He replied, moving to the heated area of your shoulder. “It's a medical device that doctors typically use to test nerve reactions.” He explained to you, applying a small amount of pressure, and watched your skin jump. “Did that hurt?” He asked, pulling the wheel away from your back.

“No, it felt...it felt--” You panted, swallowing hard, as you tried to find a way to explain to August how it felt. “Like little, heat filled, tickle bombs.” You said, knowing it made absolutely no sense. “I liked it, a lot.” You assured him.

August nodded, but moved the wheel to the tingle patch of your other shoulder, doing the same thing, you squirmed and giggled, it tickled there more than either of the other two spots, that felt sensual. “I think you're warmed up now.” He said softly, pressing his palm down to the small of your back. “You seem relaxed and to be enjoying yourself.” He cooed, curving his hand slowly between your legs, and slotted his fingers in against the back of your pussy.

“Oh.” He rasped, feeling your wet folds. “You're more than warmed up, sweetheart.” He chuckled, slipping half a finger inside of you, finding you were even wetter, still.

You moaned loudly, pushing back on August's hand, wanting to take all of his finger, wanting more than his finger inside of you. “Please, Sir. Please!” You whimpered and begged, rocking against your restraints.

“Wet and needy, just how I love my Lamb.” August growled, removing his hand.

“Please!” You begged again, whining at the loss of his digit inside of you.

“Oh, I'll satisfy you yet, minx.” He replied, chuckling, and dipping his hand into the bowl of warm water, pulling out a sleek, eight inch, metal dildo, warmed by the water he put it in, in order to play a little more with your discovered Sensation kink.

He picked up one of the lubes, one the two of you hadn't played with, and coated the dildo with it, before moving behind you. Resting a hand on the small of your back, August guided it home and made you start. Even though the two of you had only been together for a few months, your sex life was one of the most active parts of your relationship, so you knew August's manhood better than you knew your own hand, and knew what he was pushing inside of your core, was not his cock.

“Aug—SIR!” You gasped, pushing yourself forward, the little you could.

“Relax, Lamb.” He murmured, grasping your hip and pulling you back. “You can take it. You take my cock all the time, love.” He coaxed you, all the while, inching it further and further inside of you. “Such a beautiful pussy you have.” He sighed, sliding the last of the warmed toy inside of you.

“I love when it's all full up with my cock or a toy.” He smirked, gently twisting the dildo.

You cried out, throwing your head back, the warm metal stretched you open and pressed the length of your core, the sensation of the lube was cold, but oddly, with every movement, there were bursts of tingles. Your toes curled and you rutted down on the bench, managing to rub the edge of your clit against the red padding, going cross eyed beneath the blindfold, but you hissed as August spanked you.

“None of that!” He chastised you. “You'll come, when I say.”

“That's not fair!” You protested, jerking on your cuffs.

“I'm the master in this building, Lamb!” August scolded you, catching your chin in his fingers and pushing your head back, even though you couldn't see him, you could feel his gaze. “I'll be fair, but you'll still do as you're told.” He lectured you, while lifting his other hand close to your face, grinning smugly since you couldn't see the device he had in it, pressing the red button on it.

“Oh, good lord!” You gasped, tensing against your bounds, as a profound vibration started to hum inside of your core. “Oh, Jesus.” You mewled, squirming against it, but August only turned it up, leaving you withering. “August, fuck!” You babbled, trembling.

“Is that what you're supposed to call me, right now, little Lamb?” He smirked, relenting on the intensity of the vibration, just for a moment.

“No, I'm sorry, sir.” You sighed, shaking your head in his hand, breathing through your open mouth.

“That's a good girl.” He purred, his voice a deep timber, as he kissed your sweaty forehead, then cranked the power back up.

You whimpered, feeling the strength race up your back and disrupt all coherent thought inside your brain, leaving you a bumbling mess. August smirked, setting the control down on the table and picked up another device, slipping it onto his middle finger, before going to stand behind you. He knew you probably wouldn't last long like this, as he reached beneath you, pressing a switch in the underside of the device, a vibrating finger wand, while pressing it to your swollen clit. You bucked against his hand, shaking your head and crying out, tears soaking the fabric of the blindfold as you became overwhelmed.

“I can't!” You sobbed, biting down on your lip as the orgasm inside you threatened to shred you into pieces. “I can't! Please, I need to come, sir!” You implored August, kicking your feet.

“I know you do, doll.” He answered, seeing you drench the dildo and rubbed your oversensitive nub with the teeny vibrator. “But you can last a little bit longer. That sweet release will feel so much sweeter in a few moments, I promise.” He cooed, leaning over you to press kisses along the length of your back, the hairs of his mustache and beard tickling and scrapping your skin, adding to your senses.

“Come.” He whispered in your ear, nudging his hard cock against your ass. “Let it all out.”

“August!” You called out, letting go and squirting around the toy with an intensity that pushed it out some, then fell limp over the bench.

August kneaded your hips and kissed the base of your neck, as he removed the toy from your core, dripping with your juices and dropped it back into the bowl, then turned back and took off your blindfold, seeing your damp and heavy eyes for the first time.

“Are you fucked out, princess?” He teased you, smirking, lifting your heavy head and kissed your lips. “Oh, you are thoroughly fucked out, Lamb.” He chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb, then removed your cuffs, gently pushing you up to your rubber legs and scooped you up, carrying you over to a black leather, tantra chaise.

He lowered himself down onto it, still holding you against his chest, while he got comfortable in the deep valley in the middle of the long and wide chair, before reclining against the high back, his head resting on the attached headrest. Your own head rested heavily on August's chest and your hands were tucked into the nooks of his armpits, elbows hugged against his ribs and straddling his waist, numbed and spent. Whimpering pathetically, as his strong and calloused hands massaged up and down your back for a long few minutes, before reaching underneath to his throbbing and needy cock, slick pearls of come, dripping down his shaft.

August stroked himself for a moment, rubbing and occasionally tapping his thick head against your sticky and sensitive pussy, drawing out soft, deep moans from you, as you rubbed your cheek and face against his collarbone. August teased his tip between your folds, caressing its length and circled your clit, before withdrawing again, to stroke himself some more, squeezing his base. He pressed his tip inside of you again, thrusting just inside the ring of your entrance, hissing as he felt your nails dig into the skin of his armpits, and snapped completely inside of you, stuffing you with his mighty manhood. You gasped, planting your hands on the chaise and pushed yourself up, arching your back as the burn of August's cock spread through you like a wildfire, your head thrown back and eyes rolled into your skull.

“Brat.” August hissed at you, popping you on the bum, then gripped your hips and kept you seated in his lap, positioning his feet on the floor at either side of the tantra, using the leverage to rock into you, pushing you up a little bit with each upwards thrust. “You like that, Lamb?” He purred at you, hearing your almost silent gasp and watched you gently sway above him, smirking as he realized you'd dropped into a low level of subspace.

“Yes, Sir.” You sighed, pressing your hands to August's chest, feeling his heart pounding against your palms. “Your cock feels so much better than the toy does.” You confessed, looking at him with glassy and hooded eyes, pupils dilated with your heightened emotions and sensations. “It's so much bigger and hotter.” You told him, smoothly rolling your hips.

The feeling of August throbbing and twitching inside of your tight core was amazing, fat veins rubbing against your velvety walls, filling you up, so he always hit your sweet spots. You never wanted another cock or man inside of you as long as you lived! You felt so spoiled on August's and thanked the Gods that graced him with it. You felt the muscles of August's stomach flex against yours and heard his breathing become rough, his tell-tale sign, while his ordinarily smooth thrusts became jerky and irregular. August ran a hand up your back and squeezed your neck, pulling you into a hungry and sultry kiss, feeling his balls start to grow taut, blood pounding in his ears and a sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead, plastering his curls to his damp skin, as a rush of heat washed over him, head to toe.

He grunted into your mouth, letting go of your neck and wrapped his muscular arms around you, trapping yours against your sides, while practically crushing you against his chest, hammering wildly into you, laser focused on pumping you full of his seed, to feel it gush out around his frenzied cock and drip over his swollen sack, which only maddened him even more. You moaned and grunted, bouncing your hips to ride his cock the best you could with each powerful thrust, his hold on you the only thing that stopped you from being shoved up August's body, with their strength. You pressed your forehead to his hairy chest, legs trembling as you pushed up on your tippy toes, feeling the build of a new orgasm in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh god.” August huffed, hot breath stirring the hair on the top of your head as he ejaculated, spurting hot and fast loads of milky come into your core, stimulating you into your third orgasm of the night. “How I wish I could keep your sweet, little hole filled up with my come all day and all night long.” He rasped, coming down off his high enough to form sensible words.

“I have no doubt you would, August James Walker.” You chuckled, turning your head and resting your chin in the center of his chest, smirking up at him, sleepily.

August chuckled, breathily, at you, brushing strands of your hair out of your warm face, and lifted his head to press a tender kiss to your brow, then glanced at the clock that hung on the far wall. “Hmm.” He hummed, seeing the late hour. “I should get you home, Lamb, you have work in the morning after all.” He said, sitting up with you in his lap, before slowly lifting you off his softened cock, watching your combined releases slowly seep out of you, dripping onto the leather of the chair below you as he sat you on the bottom, so he could stand up.

You watched August walk away, sliding down the chaise and into the spot he vacated, curling up and moaning at the heat of the material, warmed by his body. August disappeared into the main room for a time, coming back to find you had fallen into a light sleep in his absence, making his smile down at you. He squatted beside you, stroking your hair, the side of your face and neck, drinking in your relaxed and unassuming beauty, and smiled brighter as your eyes gently fluttered open and settled on him.

“I have a nice, relaxing bath waiting for you, Lamb.” He cooed, rubbing your arm, sweetly.

“Mmm.” You hummed, brow furrowing at the thought of the luxurious warm water. “That sounds magnificent, Gus.” You mumbled, eyes falling shut again, but managed to pull yourself into an upright position.

“Would you like some assistance, my lady?” August teased you, looking over your limp body.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, not opening your eyes, just lifting your arms, so he could pick you up.

You felt his chest rumble with a chuckle as he hoisted you up into his arms, planting a kiss to your temple, and carried you back into the bathroom. This time the lights were down low, and the candles were lit, great, thick tentacles of hot steam rose from the fragrant bath water, filling the room with the misty scent of sandalwood and cardamom from the expensive Himalayan bath salts he sprinkled in.

“I feel so spoiled.” You commented, as August helped you out of your nightie and then stepped in the tub with you, your toes curled in the warm water.

“Oh?” He replied, resting back against the edge of the tub. “By being bound to a spanking bench, blindfolded, and having a vibrating dildo inside of you, while I played with your sensitive skin and made you hold in your orgasm?” He quipped, amused and teasing. “Then fucked you senseless on the tantra chair.”

You smirked into his neck, shaking your head. “It's always a treat to be fucked by you, August.” You chuckled back. “But I meant the bath.” You clarified, lifting a hand and sailed your fingers over the surface. “We could have just gotten back into the shower, or gotten dressed and you could've taken me home, where I would have just shower myself before bed.” You explained, shifting between his legs. “Instead, you drew me a fancy bath, with candle light.”

“So romantic.”

The slightest of blushes crossed August's scruffy cheeks. “I figured it would be more beneficial to you, than a shower would be. Allow you to sit and soak in hot water, because you're going to be sore tomorrow.” He told you, massaging your hips and back.

“I don't doubt that.” You nodded, turning to kneel between his legs.

“What are you doing, little Lamb?” He inquired, a smug and knowing smirk pulling across his lips.

“I feel bad, Gus.” You cooed at him, caressing your fingertips over his thick thighs, water swirling between the two of you. “I've come three times tonight, while you've only come once.” You told him, one hand dipping between his legs.

“That doesn't seem very far to me, Sir.”

August growled at you, his smirk broadening. “I've corrupted you.”

“Corrupted?” You pouted, a soft and innocent look crossing your face. “No, never.” You assured him, hand inching closer to his awakening member. “Instigated something inside of me? Very much so.” You nodded, lightly dragging your nails up his length, making him hiss and squirm with pleasure. “It's only nice to give you one more orgasm, before the night ends.” You whispered, leaning forward to kiss him, raking your nails downwards, chuckling as August growled and nipped at your bottom lip.

“And, maybe, a wee bit of revenge.” You laughed, closing your hand around his base.

“Hmm, of course.” He nodded, letting his head fall back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your attention. “I'll take it as you'll be willing to play here with me again?” He asked, gripping the edge of the tub as you started to stroke his length.

“I'd take it into deep consideration, yes.” You nodded, rubbing your thumb over the deep groove that split the head of August's cock, watching strands of pre-come weep out as you set them free from his slit. “I'm sure you'd want to step it up a level, judging by the amount and types of toys you have.”

“I would.” August groaned, thumping the heel of his foot on the bottom of the tub. “But, just like tonight, I would gradually introduce you to it. I know you're a novice at being a submissive.”

“Do you want me to be your submissive, Bear?” You cooed, gently tugging on his shaft.

August lifted his head, looking at you with dark, azure eyes. “Very much, Lamb.” He rasped, licking his lips. “But it wouldn't upset me, if you didn't want to be.” He admitted, eyes flaring as he watched you dip your head, submerging your face for a long moment to suck on the head of his cock, before coming back up, face dripping.

“So far, so good.” You smirked at him, seeing how you were affecting him.

“Noted.” He nodded, locking his eyes on your task, your thumb rubbing and pressing into the major vein underneath his shaft, making his toes curl and his eyes almost cross.

Your strokes grew firmer, free hand cupping his heavy sack, rolling them and giving them careful squeezes. The throb of August's member increased against your palm, swelling and its tip turning purple as he began to reach his zenith, moans echoing in the bathroom. You watched August's flushed face twist in his climax, beads of sweat dripping from his nose with the mixture of warm bath water and the rush of his orgasm spreading through his body, sending ropes of come sailing through the water.

“You're damned handsome, August Walker.” You cooed, moving forward to press a kiss to the damp skin of his neck, feeling the slowing thud of his pulse against your lips as you kissed your way up the column of his throat, over his stubbly chin to his slightly parted lips, cutting off his harsh and labored pants for air.

“Who's fucked out now?” You teased, sitting back on his thighs.

August cracked an eye open at you. “I won't be taking you home tonight, Lamb.” He replied, voice rough. “You also won't be going into work tomorrow.” He added.

“Is that so?” You answered, lifting a brow at him.

“Then, where will we be, Gus?”

“Here.” He said, pulling the drain and stood up with you, setting you down outside the tub.

The two of you dried off and August showed you back through the warehouse, to the back where he revealed a bedroom, a massive, king sized bed, covered in insanely expensive cotton, black and silver sheets and blankets. August pulled down the thick comforter and sheet, before looking over at you and patted the Nectar mattress. You chuckled, smirking at him and joined him, shaking your head as the mattress came to just above your hip. August grinned back at you, resting his hands on your hips and hoisted you up onto the mattress. With you in bed, August turned the lights out and joined you under the blankets, pulling you against his body, before slipping his hand between you, to pump his cock for a moment, then curved his legs into yours and pushed his semi-hard cock into your core.

“Mmm, August.” You moaned, wiggling your hips and pressing your back against his chest, feeling him slowly harden completely inside of you.

“Sweet dream, little Lamb.” August rumbled back into your ear, locking his arms around your waist, keeping you in place, and drifted off, a sinful smile on his lips.

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