Kiss with a fist (Dark!August Walker)
A/N: I literally lost track of who asked for what first, so Iâm working on a âoooh this might be fun to write todayâ-basis. Donât fret, my loves, Iâm getting through all prompts and requests as well, mostly because I need the distraction. I am living in HellTM currently. Prompt: Y/N works for CIA, who sends her undercover in the FBI. They, in turn, send her undercover in M16 - who then sends her right back undercover in CIA. Her superior is very confused.
Also also, this is probably going to be my first real Dark!Fic, because it just kind of lends itself perfectly for the idea, Iâve been playing with. Just a warning. Itâs probably not as dark as I could make it, but I gotta ease into it đ
 You can buy me a coffee here, and Iâll write you a personalized drabble, one shot or multichapter fic, with whatever you want in it!
 Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine in particular) and my requests â and askbox â are always open â thereâs no limits because I am me, and I have none!
 MASTERLIST
PROMPTLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
 Pairing: August Walker x female reader
Contains: Language, coworkers to lovers (or like, boss to lover) smut (18+ MINORS DNI), non-con, degradation, praise, sir-kink, spitting, impact-play, mentions of blood, p in v, oral (m receiving), fingering, use of a gun, anal with a gun, mentions of vomit, mentions of necrophilia (sorry, but itâs BRIEF), cream-pie, forced orgasm, forced cream-pie, use of a belt, breath-play, actual choking, gagging and probably more than that
 W.C.: 5.022 (whoops)
 Kiss with a fist
 âYou want me to do what?â You asked incredulously, staring with wide eyes at Mr. Walker. He raised his eyebrow and crossed his muscular arms over his chest, his button-down straining dangerously at the seams. âI donât want, I need you to go undercover in the FBI. Weâre sure thereâs a mole, and important information might get leaked at any point.â âBut⌠I⌠Iâm new.â You said, sagging slightly in your chair. âI have no experience with being undercover, Mr. Walker.â âWhich is why youâre perfect for it.â He sighed and leaned over the desk, his elbows resting on the smooth wood. âListen to me, youâre amazing at what you do. Youâre one of the brightest heads here, and you think quick on your feet. I wouldnât send you unless I was sure, you would be able to handle it.â You nodded. You werenât getting out of this one. âAlright.â
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The FBI was very different to the CIA â there was a lot more hustle and bustle, and you tried to blend in as much as you could, giggling at the water cooler with the other women from the office, trying to get gossip that could actually be beneficial. Lucy, the receptionist, had managed to slip during a coffee-break, talking about an anonymous man, who seemed to slip in and out of the office constantly. It was strange, how little people noticed, because he was a tall and broad man, and she had conspiratorially whispered to you, that it was strange that there always seemed to be a case right after his visits.
âI mean, youâve never seen his face?â You asked casually, tipping your coffee-cup to your lips. She shook her head. âNo, thatâs the weird part, right? I mean, he just comes and goes, Iâm not even sure he workâŚâ She stopped talking when your âbossâ, Mr. Jansen, came over and gestured for you to follow him into the office.
âY/N, Iâm going to need your help. You are very skilled at what you do, and I can appreciate you helping from the office, but I have gotten a tip.â You sat down. Jansen was a no-nonsense kind of man, and you were mentally preparing for whatever he was going to say. He never coddled anyone. âI need you to go undercover in M16. I got a tip that someone from there is trying to bring the internal parts of FBI down, and we need to nip it in the bud.â Again? You were going to be a triple-agent, now? âSir, IâŚâ âItâs not a question, itâs an order. Pack up, youâre doing double-duty.â âSir, I just started here, andâŚâ âAnd you have a glowing review. You got this. Now, get.â You stood and walked to your office, trying to make sense of what the hell was happening. You grabbed your phone and debated calling Mr. Walker, but thought better of it; you were undercover, and you couldnât afford to blow it now.
 M16 was a whole different shit-show. You had been thrown into the middle of some serious office-heat, agents on each other like cats in an alley, and you were surprised any type of work was being done around here. On your first day, you had â unfortunately â to give a sweating, large man a kiss with your fist, when he thought it was smart to put a hand up your skirt. Everybody pretty much got the message after that, and most lewd comments werenât said to your face, at least.
Not that it mattered to you at all, because you seemed to have stumbled upon something bigger than moles in the organizations â it seemed to run a lot deeper, weaving some dangerous webs. You couldnât help but feel a little annoyed that whoever did this (or helped) didnât bother to try and cover their tracks.
 It seemed to be some sort of manifesto, that had been hidden under layers of coding, and for now, all you had managed to get deciphered was Lark and Apostoles, which, granted, didnât give you much to on, but it did lead you down the rabbit hole. It would seem as if there was a larger ploy at work here, and you were beginning to feel uneasy about it.
A late night â after pushing several men away from your desk with the promise of castrating them with a finger, if they didnât leave â you finally managed to get through, and you were surprised at how much information lay between the many lines of the manifesto, along with several instructions to both the FBI and M16; The Syndicate seemed to be printed along any and everything, and you felt sick to your stomach. John Lark was the name that kept popping up, along with a simple A., who seemed to be the one giving instructions on how to dismantle several areas of the inner workings of the FBI and M16.
It wasnât a mole, it was several. And they all worked towards the same, common goal: Destroy a third of the worldâs population. You had to admit, the way they talked about it both gave you a case of serious ick, but also intrigue. You werenât really on any rouge sides, nor had you ever wanted to be, but there was something in the way they described the entire thing⌠It was overwhelming. Haunting. But beautiful, even though you were well aware that it would be impossible to ever get done.
 âY/L/N.â You screwed your eyes shut and turned before opening them, looking at the very angry face of Porter, your âbossâ, who was currently tapping her heeled foot to the ground. âAre you alone in the office?â You nodded. She terrified you. âGood.â She walked with brisk steps to your desk and sat down, pointing at the several folders full of your findings. âI see Iâm not the only one, who managed to figure out something was off.â You shook your head. âNo, maâam.â She didnât need to know that you theoretically had been sent by C.I.A and FBI. âIâm glad someone has a bright head. Itâs why I trust you to do this.â She sighed. âHow long have you worked here?â âUh, around six months?â You answered. âWould you be comfortable to be in the field?â âI mean, thatâs what I was trained for⌠Do we have an OP, Iâm not aware of?â She shook her head. âNo, this is very much between only a few people in the office. It needs to be dark.â âOkayâŚ?â Her eyes bored into yours. âCan I trust you?â No. âOf course, maâam.â âGood. Now, I need an insider on the C.I.A. I need feet on the ground and eyes on the sky in there.â She pointed to the folder in front of you. âIâm sure Iâve found a link between some of the higher ups in there and John Lark.â You gulped. âUhm, maâamâŚâ âI know, it sounds crazy, right? But look at this.â She flipped a few pages and pointed to a signature, along with a few lines of instructions. âThat is definitely government speech. I can sense it, and we need to dismantle this shit as quickly as we can. Weed the weeds before they grow roots.â You didnât exactly want to tell her that for weeds to grow, they already had roots. âOkay. What do you need?â
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Walking back into your real workplace was somewhat unsettling. You had to try and lie your way through why you were back; not that you truly thought it mattered, because nobody would bat an eyelid at you for being back. Well, except Mr. Walker.
âY/L/N?â Shit. âHi, Mr. Walker.â He was next to you in two wide strides, brows furrowed and upper lip trembling a little. âWhat the hell are you doing back here?â In a very unceremonious way, he grabbed a tight hold of your elbow and dragged you to his office, closing and locking the door behind him. âYou were supposed to be on intel with the FBI!â You sighed. Time to lie your face off. âFBI sent me on a wild goose chase. Iâm sure theyâre trying to get the lead buried before I can get to it, and I just neededâŚâ You sighed and rubbed your forehead. âI guess I just needed some sort of normalcy. I think better here.â You said, biting your lip. He stared at you, gesturing for you to sit on the chair in front of his desk. âYou came back to think?â You shrugged, sitting down. âI suppose. Theyâre⌠Well, itâs a harder job than I expected it to be.â You said â it wasnât a lie, per se, you were just omitting parts of the truth. In all honesty, at this point, you actually didnât care who did what, who was behind what, and who or what wanted to blow up a third of the world. You really just wanted to have one damn organization to stick to, thank you very much. He looked at you, clearly searching your face for something â any signs of lies. âWhat do you know?â He commanded. He stood against his desk, arms crossed, and you realized two things at once; first, that he was very attractive when he was being all demanding and used his âIâm in chargeâ-voice, and second, that his eyes flickered for a brief second. The smallest of movements, something most â if not all â people would miss.
It was a flicker of fear.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. The signature of A, the tall, broad man who kept to the shadows at the FBI, the somewhat familiar wording in the manifesto.
 âNot much yet.â You lied trough your teeth. âThereâs rumblings about someone going in and out of the high office, but not much more than that. A lot of watercooler-gossip, so far, but not anything of note.â You swallowed thickly, and your eyes fell on his pants, where you saw the gun resting against his hip. Well, that and the other gun.
âHm.â He tilted his head to the side. âAnd what does the watercooler-gossip tell you?â âThat Lucy is fucking her boss.â You said nonchalantly â you didnât know how to word anything out without giving yourself up. âApparently, she got some intel from him about something being coded heavily, but thatâs the gist of it.â You saw the way his demeanor changed, even before he moved or talked again; there was an unmistakable shift in him, and it made your stomach drop in fear. He sighed and pushed off from the desk, leaning over you, large, thick and muscular arms trapping you in, as his hands grabbed the sides of the chair.
âY/N. How about we donât lie to each other?â he said with a dangerous smile. âSir, IâmâŚâ âDonât play with me, little bird.â You choked on your own spit at the nickname. âIâm well aware that youâre an incredibly talented and bright woman. Itâs really on me, trying to throw you off by sending you somewhere else, digging for leads that wouldnât get you anywhere.â You swallowed thickly, fear seeping from your pores. The way he looked at you, completely calm and collected, with a small, dangerous smirk on his lips and eyes lit with rage, sent shivers of fear down your spine. âI shouldâve known better. See, my problem with youâŚâ He leaned in a little closer, his face closer to yours. âIs that I like you, little bird. Oh, how I liked watching you look at me all attentive, your back straightening every time I spoke the smallest command.â You couldnât breathe. âIt was so easy for me to control what you looked into, what you saw and what you did, when you were right under my nose. You got a little too close, didnât you? A few months ago, you stumbled on some very bad information, and youâŚâ He smirked dangerously and almost degrading at you. âYou ran straight to me, like I wouldâve been able to save it. I had to send you off. I needed you away, so you didnât screw up more for me.â You swallowed thickly. âSir, Iâm⌠I wonâtâŚâ âNo, you wonât.â he pushed away from your chair and his eyes glinted. âGo on, little bird, spread those sweet, little wings.â He nodded at the door behind you. It was instant, the way your body kicked into gear; fight or flight was on the tip of your tongue, you could taste metal as you practically jumped the chair and rushed to the door.
You shouldâve known it wouldnât be that easy. As soon as your fingers landed on the lock, a strong hand grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you roughly against the door. You exhaled a shaky whimper at the impact; you were well aware that August Walker had killed people with less than a hand on their neck, and for the first time in your life, you were fearful of death. His body pressed against your back, fingers wrapping in your hair and pulling roughly. You were shivering as his torso pressed against you, his breath hot and sticky on your exposed neck. âOh, sweetheart, why would you think I would make it easy on you?â His lips scraped against your neck, his beard tickling you â you wanted to vomit. âIâm going to make things very hard for you now.â With a single move, he had you turned around, hand still on your neck and in your hair, and he pushed you down to the small sofa in the corner of his office. You grunted when your back hit the sofa, and your head wouldâve hit the wall, if he didnât have a strong grip on you. He slowly, while his eyes were burning into yours, moved his hands until his thick fingers pressed against your throat, cutting off air supply. You tried to struggle against his grip, clawing at his arms, but you were too small, too weak for him to even take notice. His eyes darkened when he took your state in; your hair was coming loose from your bun, your skirt had ridden up on your thighs, your chest heaving, trying to catch your breath, and unshed tears glossed your eyes over. It was a sight to him. âWell⌠I did have other plans, but I suppose we can make our own fun first.â He mused, his free hand trailing down your body. âDonât fucking touch me!â You spat breathlessly at him, trying to recoil from his touch. He didnât take that well. His hand collided with your cheek, the smack echoing in his office, and you felt, more than you heard, the small crunch of your jaw moving slightly out of place. âDonât test me, you fucking slut. Iâm trying to be nice, and thatâs how you repay me?â He was seething with rage, and his grip on your throat tightened even more; you gasped, the air leaving your body completely now. He spat at your face, the spit landing on your cheek and nose and he hummed appreciatively at the sight. âThereâs a good, little whore.â His thumb caressed your skin, smearing the spit around. You felt the burning of tears in your eyes. âYou can cry. I like it when you do.â He said with a dangerous smile, his free hand again moving down your body. You didnât have a choice, there was nowhere to go, and you wanted to throw up at the feeling of his fingers on you; you ignored the sliver of you that began to respond to him, desperate for your body to shut off. With a flick of his wrist, three buttons on your shirt popped off, and he had a view to your chest. âI always knew I liked you for a reason, Y/N.â You saw black spots float in and out of your vision, and you almost hoped to just pass out. His grip slackened. âOh no, we canât have that, can we? You deserve to see, what weâre going to do together, little bird.â You whimpered and tried to clench your thighs together to avoid his fingers dipping in. He chuckled darkly and with the same effort heâd probably use to swat a fly away, he ripped your skirt completely.
 You didnât have the time to react nor say anything, before his large fingers grabbed the thigh highs and tore them down your legs. âSo pretty⌠I shouldâve fucking hired you as a secretary, you would have been so much fun to train, wouldnât you?â he mumbled, mostly to himself, and you realized that this â whatever you had previously hoped or thought â was moving in a direction, that made your hairs stand up. Fuck.
âAugust, pleaseâŚâ A slap landed on your cheek again, and you groaned at the pain; one more of those, and your jaw would dislocate. âDo not call me that. I am Sir to you. Daddy, if youâre being good.â You whimpered and the tears began flowing freely now, when his strong hands pried your legs open and tore your underwear in half; he wasnât a patient man, and you had already dragged it out way too much for his liking. He chuckled and his tongue darted out, licking the tears away from your burning cheek. You wanted to recoil from him, but his grip on your throat was a little too tight.
Without warning, he thrusted two thick fingers inside of you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, hoping someone would hear you and help. He began dragging his fingers in and out of you, spitting down on his fingers as they almost left your body to lubricate them. âScream all you want, darling, nobody comes in here.â Your tears were rolling down your cheeks now, his thick fingers ripping you apart with every thrust. You wanted to hate yourself, your fucking body for slowly warming to him; you felt it, the way you fluttered around his fingers and the ease, he began sliding in and out of you.
âThereâs a good, little whore. Youâre liking this, arenât you? Liking being put in your place; just taken however I want to?â he chuckled again and sped up his fingers. You whimpered, your teeth gnashing on your lips to the point, where you could taste blood. His lips found yours, forcefully kissing you and lapping the blood from your lips, while he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. âI think⌠Maybe Iâm not going to kill you right away, little one. No, I think my friends would love to meet you.â You whimpered at the thought of it â there was so much laced into the words, and you would rather die. âYouâre doing so well, just swallowing my fingers with your greedy, little pussy. Jesus, look at you, youâre such a fucking slut, arenât you?â You didnât want to like it. You didnât, but your body was reacting to everything he did and said, and you felt yourself near a high, that terrified you â if he thought you liked this, what else would he do to you? âDonât think, you fucking whore, donât worry. Youâll get yours.â He sped up and pressed his thumb roughly against your clit. You didnât have time to try and stop it.
You came around his fingers with a choked sob of shame, your pussy gushing for him. âGood girl! Look at you, taking orders from me.â He laughed maniacally and pulled his fingers from you, keeping his grip firmly on your throat, while he opened his pants.
âBe good for me, little bird. Knees.â You tried shaking your head, refusing to fucking do anything for him. He groaned in annoyance and pulled you by your throat to the floor, yanking your hair roughly. âDonât fucking disobey me again.â He said and pulled his cock out from his pants. It was throbbing and the tip was an angry red, already leaking precum. He was big, and you feared that you might actually choke on it. At least youâd have a chance if you bit him. His grip on your hair tightened and forced you to look up at him. âTry to bite me once and Iâll fucking skin you alive.â You swallowed thickly, and you knew the battle was lost even before it started. âYes, sir.â He grinned. âThereâs my good girl.â He lined his cock up with your lips and you slowly opened your mouth, tears still spilling from your eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. His cock slid against your tongue, and he forced himself as deep as he could go, you gagging around his cock. âFuck, I shouldâve done this a long time ago.â You spluttered around him, spit pooling around your lips and slowly dripping from your chin. You tried to pull away from him when he forced himself deeper down your throat. âNo. Youâll take what I give you, and youâre going to fucking thank me for it.â He said, a little out of breath. âLook up at me.â You did what he asked, and he growled at the sight, his thumb wiping a stray tear away. You gagged and coughed around his hard, thick cock as he pushed it further down, and you lost all ability to breathe.
He didnât let you adjust but began to fuck your mouth and throat as if you were nothing but a toy to him. He held you in place while he snapped his hips, and you spluttered again, trying to breathe â he laughed deviously. âLittle bird, youâre not getting out of this. Youâre going to be my little whore, arenât you? So easy toâŚâ he grunted and buried his cock deeper in your throat. âSo easy to get on your knees, youâve been fucking waiting for it, havenât you? Wanted to suck my cock dry, like a good little pet?â He picked up the pace and you almost passed out when he swelled a little in your throat. He grunted and pulled out roughly, spitting in your face. âYou should be my fucking lap-dog, darling.â He caressed your face in a gesture that was both way too intimate and shot fear into your veins. He pulled you up to your feet, and bent you over the desk, forcing your ass to stick out enough for your back to begin hurting. âPlease, sir, youâre hurting meâŚâ You mumbled, trying to see if there was a shred of humanity left in him. His hand landed on your ass roughly, and you yelped at the pain. âGood.â He hit you again. âSee, nosy fucking bitches like you need to be punished, do they not?â You heard the unmistakable sound of a belt being pulled from loops and your face went white. âPlease, no, Iâm beggingâŚâ You didnât finish your sentence. The belt hit you hard, hard enough for you to instantly feel nausea creep up on you, bile at the top of your throat, and you cried out. He just laughed and repeated the process. You lost track of time, how many times the belt had hit you, and you were vaguely aware of the trickle of warmth that ran down form your ass to the back of your thighs. He hummed and wiped the trickle with a finger, putting it in your mouth; you tasted metal. âLook at you, so obedient already. Youâll just let me spank you until youâre bleeding and not say a word to it?â You felt something cold press against your folds. âGod, you really are a fucking whore, arenât you? So stupid, so easy to convinceâŚâ You felt the cold thing press into you and you yelped, trying to move away. Your entire body was in pain.
He grabbed you by the throat again, and stopped moving whatever he had in his hand, inside of you, while he wrapped the belt â streaked with red now â around your throat, pulling it tightly. You gasped and choked, and he continued the onslaught of your pussy.
âGod, getting fucked by my loaded gun does something to you, doesnât it?â He mumbled and your eyes widened as he began fucking you hard with the barrel of his gun. You couldnât speak, couldnât move or even try to as he fucked you with the gun. Your body was reacting to it, growing wetter by the second. âIt would be so fucking easy to kill you like this, you know? I could justâŚâ You heard the gun cock. âPress this once and youâd be dead⌠I could probably still fuck you until you got too cold and stiff for me.â He pulled the belt again, forcing your head back. âSay thank you, sir, for not killing me right now.â You gasped as he loosened the tightness of the belt. âFuck you.â You spat. He pulled the gun out of you and held it to your temple, his hard cock pressing against your pussy. âNo, little bird, fuck you.â You screamed in pain when he entered you in one, fell thrust, filling you to a point, where it hurt. You were barely breathing, your nails had been broken and bled, while you clawed at the desk.
He fucked you as if he didnât give a shit. He was rough, the gun steady against your face, his cock filling you up and nudging your cervix. âFuck, youâre so tight, arenât you? So tight and wet for me, just ready for me to abuse you, huh?â He snapped his hips and buried himself deeper inside of you â the desk scraped against the floor as he rutted hard against you. Your legs were shaking, and you couldnât think â everything hurt. âAw, is my poor, little whore sad? You want to cum, little bird? Just cum on my cock, while I have a gun to your head?â You shook your head. You refused. He chuckled. âAlright.â He sped up, and to your relief, he removed the gun from your head. He was groaning behind you, burying his cock deeply in you over and over, and your relief of the gun being gone was shortlived. You felt spit land on your puckered hole, and you wiggled, trying to get away from him, when he pressed the cold, slightly sticky barrel of his gun to your asshole. âSquirm, and itâll only be worse.â He threatened, his free hand landing on your ass; you felt the blood trickle again and you screamed in pain, as the gun entered you. He was rough. You didnât have time to think or adjust as he fucked you with his hard cock and let the barrel of the gun slip inside of your ass, moving it in sync with his cock.
Despite your hate and fear, you felt your pussy flutter around him, the familiar, dull ache behind your clit as your orgasm neared â you were fully sobbing now. âGood girl, fuck, youâre going to cum, arenât you, love?â He sped up and angled his hips, this time shoving the tip of his cock roughly against your cervix. You were screaming in pain, your body trembling. âCum, whore. Fucking cum, while I fuck you just like thisâŚâ he grunted, and you felt his speed falter for a second. âCum for me, little bird, fucking make a mess out of me.â You couldnât hold it back, even if you tried.
You exploded around him, the sounds of your wet slick gushing over his cock filling the room. You gasped for air and reprieve, but he was relentless; his cock was spearing you completely and it felt like you were about to split in two, while the fear of him just pulling the trigger for the hell of it, was ever present in your mind.
You sobbed through your orgasm, and when his lips found your shoulder, you had to bite back vomit.
âYes, fuck, you feel so fucking goodâŚâ Everything felt wrong and painful. His speed was faltering, the rhythm leaving him. âSo good, taking my cock so well, baby⌠Oh, Iâm going to get so much use out of you.â He grunted. âYou want me to fill you? Make you fill of my cum, get your pregnant so you canât get away from me? Just⌠Fuck!â he roared as you began to try and claw at him, desperate to get him out of you. âOh, yeah, Iâm going to make you fucking round with me, darling. Oh, fuck, you need to take it all, like a good little whoreâŚâ He fucked you with the gun and his cock so roughly, you thought you were about to die. âPlease, please, no⌠Sir, pleaseâŚâ You begged, but he just laughed and slapped your cheek again. Your jaw rattled.
 He came with a strangled cry, pushing his cock and the gun as deep as they could go. You felt ropes of cum warm you and this time, you didnât hold back. You threw up over his desk, your eyes searing with tears as he fucked his cum deeply inside of you. You were shaking and crying. âArenât you a dirty little thing?â he whispered as he pulled himself and the gun out of you, letting you go. You collapsed, your body sliding down from the desk and landing on the floor; you saw blood several places on the floor and your skin. You found his eyes and he cocked an eyebrow, while he wiped the gun down, almost caressing it.
âNow, we canât have a mess, can we?â You didnât answer. âI think you best clean that up, Y/N.â He pointed to the pool of vomit. âAnd then I think weâre going to have so much fun with you.â âWe?â Your voice was hoarse, and you couldnât speak above a whisper.
He squatted in front of you with that dangerous smile on his lips, lifting your face with the gun under your chin. âIf you think Iâm done with youâŚâ he chuckled. âI have my Apostles, sweet bird.â You paled and he licked his lips. âAfter that? Weâll see if we need some stress-relief around.â
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