#The Vow

[quotemadness]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[thoughtkick]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father’s murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man is quiet. The villain. The boss. The groom. Your... husband. 

The vows were what you would find in a script. Nothing special. Just standard. Just going through the motions. And when he lifted the veil, his kiss was just as prescribed. That’s it. Your life is over and his is just beginning. 

Your hand is in his as he guides you from the hall. He takes you between the pews and out the tall doors. A shower of petals rain down on you as you come out into the sunlight. There’s a car waiting. The people around you are like actors on a screen. It’s all fake. This isn’t a happy day, this is business. 

The car door shuts on the other side of him and you’re closed in with this stranger. The stranger you’ll spend the rest of your life with. You know his name and his bad deeds, but nothing else. 

You fold your hands over the layers of the full skirt. He shifts as he pulls a fold of tulle from beneath him. You watch his large hand and tremble. 

“Sorry,” you breath and snatch the skirt so that it can’t overflow onto his lap. 

He catches your hand and you freeze. You lock up, bones aching, muscles clenched. He tugs on you. You let him draw you closer as you stare at his steely grip. He brings his other hand over to pet your knuckles. The softness of his touch makes you tingle. 

“You’re scared,” he states. It isn’t a question. He knows. “If you are loyal, you don’t need to be.” 

You nod, “yes, sir.” 

He huffs through his nose, “I am your husband.” 

You close your eyes and tempo your heartbeat, “what should I call you?” 

“You know my name.” 

“Walker.” 

“August,” he insists upon his first name. “Maybe one day, you will have something softer to call me.” 

“Maybe,” you shiver and he squeezes your hand. 

“Your father wrote his own fate, you will write yours,” he raises your hand and lays a kiss on the back of it. “It doesn’t need to be the same.” 

You stare ahead. You can’t let yourself feel or you will feel everything. The fear, the grief, and even, the anger. Once they boil over, you will be lost. 

“I understand, August.” 

Another heavy exhale. 

“You will not act so cold in front of my men.” He takes your hand and forces your fingers open. “You will touch me with kindness.” He puts your palm to his cheek and leads you to cradle his face. His stubble pokes at your delicate gloves. “You will do so without my order. You will behave as a wife, so far as they are concerned. Let your father’s defiance die with him.” 

“I will not resist,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

“Goddamnit, look at me,” he says. 

You turn to look him in the face. The anger you expect is absent. He watches you placidly. Your fingers twitch and he leans into your touch. He takes your other hand and forces you to twist toward him. He leans in and before you can think, his lips are on yours. 

It is different than at the altar. Not just a peck, more. His lips part and his tongue flicks out along yours. He hums and you open your mouth. His hand creeps up the back of your neck and he locks you against him. His tongue invades your mouth and you squeak. 

He draws away and his eyes narrow, “better.” You’re unsure if he means it was better than before or that you need to do better.  

He lets you go and sits back against the seat. He closes his eyes as he pushes his shoulders wide. His feet are planted as he lingers in unspoken thought. You look at the driver then out the window. You turn back to him. 

You touch his sleeve and shimmy closer. He hums again. The tone assures you that you aren’t unwelcome. Play your part, fulfill your vow. That is all that needs to be done.  

This is more than you, there is your mother, and others beyond that. Those that were once loyal to your father. Those you called friends and family. Those who now walk the same tightrope. Those that have already fallen. 

The car stops. A flicker of panic strikes in your chest. The door opens from outside and he pulls you out with him. You keep one hand on your skirt and the other on his arm. He marches ahead. 

You enter the large building and wait in some room. He remains silent, pensive. You’re summoned and after a time. He fixes your arm to hook through his as you stand before the large doors. 

“Head up,” he girds before you enter. 

They watch you, just as before. You can hear them this time, whispering. You don’t look anywhere but ahead of you. He nods at the more notable guests. You will not doubt be met again with those faces through the night. 

He puts you ahead of him to climb onto the platform where the bride and groom’s table stands. He follows closely. He pulls a chair out but puts his hand to your back so you cannot sit. He sidles behind you. Instead, he sits with you, lifting you into his lap. 

You quiver again. Humiliation surges through you. This is his show of victory. He boasting. No, you will not just be beside him, you are his.  

[resqectable]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[perfectquote]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[archerinventive]

"And the mystery knight should defeat all challengers and name the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty" - George RR Martin

Some sword related content for your Saturday. :)

Thank you to Liv. FH for capturing this moment, and to @unicorn-shieldmaiden for always being such a lovely friend and model. ❤️

[surqrised]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[thehopefulquotes]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[spartanlocke]

Just logging in to say

[source]

THE VOW ACKNOWLEDGED AND CONFIRMED LADS WE ARE SO FUCKING BACKBURN!!!

[quotefeeling]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[renegadesstuff]

It's becoming a habit now 😂🫣

[scintie]

Channing Tatum in The Vow.

[thoughtkick]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father’s murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

Part of the mob drabbles au

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The car door shuts, closing you in with that man and your fate. As the tires start to move, so do the gears of time. The rest of your life unwinds with a tug on your skirt and the growl of your name.

August’s hand crawls up the side of your bodice and you twist to put your hands on his chest. He bends you with him, pinning you to the seat as he crushes you from above. He shifts to bring his knees between yours, holding himself up as he pushes the tulle out of his way. 

He curls an arm beneath your head and smothers your lips. His stubble pokes and tickles you. He growls as his tongue invades your mouth. You are pliant for him. Too paralysed to resist. You don’t have it in you to fight. 

“More,” he snarls against your cheek. 

He won’t let you lay there like a doll. You slide your hands up his jacket and over shoulders. Your leg is trapped between him and the seat. His legs are bent to accommodate the tight space. 

He keeps his arm snaked beneath your head as his other hand explores the satin dress. He traces the embroidered along your chest and spreads his fingers over the curve of your chest. He curls his fingers under the fabric, pinching you beneath the tightly drawn boning. He doesn’t let the tension deter him as he pulls until the laces snap across your back. 

Your chest spills out above the slack bodice. The dress is ruined. This man only brings destruction. His lips drag down your chin and throat. He brings his head down to kiss and nip at your tits. Your hands tangle in his hair instinctively. 

Your heart races and your breath turns shallow. He sinks his teeth into your tender flesh and you whine. He doesn’t stop. Heat gathers between his teeth until your skin splits and it seeps out. You don’t expect kindness, you expect a reminder of what you are. 

His creeps down to your skirts. He searches through the layers and dips beneath. He tickles along the sheer fabric of your stockings. His hair brushes against the lace of gloves, sparking with static energy. You shudder as he feels along your thigh. 

You hold your breath as he sucks on your nipple and follows the edge of your panties around the crease of your thigh. He presses his fingertips to the thin fabric and rubs you through the tenuous barrier. You clench and quiver beneath him. 

He patience quakes within him as he bites down your chest once more. You extend and arm down his back and tug at his jacket. Your insides stir in helpless horror. You can’t stop him and you won’t. Still, you wish he would. You’re not ready. Not yet. 

He pushes against your panties until the lace splits. He pokes through the fabric and delves between your folds. He rubs you slowly, feeling you shiver against him. He flicks along your clit, swirling around and around, then glides back down to your entrance. 

He pushes a finger into you and you squeak. You arch your back, hugging his head to you, burying his face between your tits. His other hand comes down to cradle one side of your chest, kneading and gnawing as he groans. 

He slides his finger in to the knuckle and presses his thick thumb against your clit. He rocks his hand slowly. The tension winds between his fingertips and you gasp. The willowy sensation turns wild. Your fear slakes away to fervour. Your mind screams no, no, no, but your body protests with every twitch and tweak. 

You cling to his jacket, curling your fingers into it desperately as he dips his finger deeper with each tilt. He bends until he tickles that tender spot that makes you squirm and squeal. 

He pulls back and runs another finger along your cunt. He urges both inside, stretching you around him, growling as he feels the resistance of your tight walls. He buries himself as far as he can and you spasm. Your foot arches as your leg hangs over the edge limply. 

He fucks you with his hand, snapping his wrist harder and harder, pushing deeper and deeper. He squeezes until the pressure blooms to more. You cry out and your thighs quake as your orgasm spills over like lava.  

You huff and heave and whine through the climax. Confusion, delight, ecstasy, and terror mingle into one and well in the brims of your eyes. All that you’ve been holding in erupts and trickles down your cheeks. 

Yet, he doesn’t stop. You bring your hand up to hide your face as your chest lurches with your sobs. You’re as powerless to the emotion as you are to him. He shakes his hand and your pelvis roughly, bouncing you on the seat. 

You cum again. This time you shriek. In humiliation, in helplessness, in pure bliss as you gush around his thick fingers. Your head lolls and you look back your shoulder to the bend of his arm. You cannot see past your skirts. 

He keeps his fingers inside you as he raises himself above you. He grabs the front of your bodice and hauls you up, putting you in his lap as his hand is crushed beneath you. You grasp onto his shoulders and blink away the fog in your eyes. 

His hand trails down your rumpled bodice and frames your hip through the satin. He guides your pelvis back then forward. The motion has you rubbing against the heel of his hand as his fingers stay sheathed in your warmth. 

He purrs and bites his lips. His blue eyes bore into you as he tilts your hips again and again. You tauten around him and babble. He growls and his eyes blaze. 

You move your hips in his hand. He lightens his touch. You keep going. He lets his touch fall away, toying with a fold of tulle instead. You push into him, grinding against his hand. You can’t stop yourself. You know if you do, it won’t be any easier. 

He watches you, his pupils big and black, his cheeks tinged read, and his jaw squared. His fiery gaze drives you. You latch tightly onto the lapels of his jacket and buck your hips faster and faster. You’re close again. 

He grabs your chin before you can close your eyes and clucks. He brings your forehead down to rest on his, your noses smushed together as your breaths plume into a stolid cloud. You squeal as you cum again, this time a hot deluge flows out of you, gushing into his palm. 

He snarls and squeezes your jaw until it aches. You shake and stutter out shallow breaths. Your hips slow but don’t still. You don’t dare stop until he tells you to. 

[stay-close]

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.

The Vow

[alwayswisdom]

Honor your parents' wisdom; it will crown your life with grace and adorn your path with beauty.