#maybe they gamble with a set of softs at the beginning in the hope of a safety car/red flag??

[slutforpringles]

what the eff have vcarb done to that car that means they're now a team who needs to heat cycle their tyres 🙃😭💀

[grimmweepers-archive]

— ★ 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: a year after your bitter divorce, you crossed paths with your ex-husband again, forcing you to confront your unresolved past.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ex-Husband Toji x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫���� 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k | masterlist | byf/dni | ao3

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: smut MDNI, light angst, hurt/comfort, the comfort is sex, yearning, arguing, swearing, soft and maybe ooc!toji but rough sex, couch sex, unprotected, oral (fem! receiving), fingering, missionary, make-outs, dirty talk, mild hair-pulling, mild choking, creampie, he calls you ‘little birdie’ and ‘baby’, late-twenties reader in mind

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The thing about ex-husband Toji is that no matter how much he tries to drown his sorrows in booze or waste his hard-earned money on gambling, he can’t escape the fact that he’s still so painfully— maddeningly in love with you. 

He was no stranger to flirting with random women at the bar, hoping to mask his woes, but it was always a punch to the gut whenever he found himself searching for a piece of you in them. 

Toji, from the very beginning, never believed in marriages, much less divorces— so enduring it for this long had changed him in ways he never expected. 

As the first anniversary of the divorce approached, you remembered when he asked you to be official. Those naive, argument-free days felt like a lifetime ago, and you almost wished you could go back, even for a breath of a second.

It just made you wonder— when did it all go wrong?

You were the one who filed, but it didn’t make it any easier— he didn’t make it easier. The last time you saw him was when he signed the papers for the final time, dropped off some keys, and bid you farewell with a stinging “See ya” before closing the door behind him for good. For longer than you wanted to admit, any time somebody had knocked on the door unexpectedly, you had wished it was him. 

Your love for him never left but you were good enough at concealing it to keep the pitying comments at bay. Although, having the anniversary so close felt like reopening a wound and it fucking sucked. 

The place you became official wasn’t far from home. Toji was never big on flashy things so he had asked you at a quaint, little park with his arm slung around your shoulders as you both sat on the worn-out bench. 

“Toji, would you put that duckling down? It’s trying to get back in the pond.”

“Yeah, in a minute,” he replied, squeezing you. There was a hint of wonder in his eyes as he watched the duckling flap its flightless wings before he set it on the ground. Then he turned to you, a grin playing on his lips. 

“Wanna be my little birdie?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. But you remember your heart pounding out of your chest. His straightforwardness was exactly what you loved about him.

Back then, he watched you with a different kind of intensity and that’s what made you realise he wasn’t fooling around. Finally, you gave him a small nod, “Alright, I’ll be your little birdie.” 

A quiet, satisfied huff escaped him and he pulled you closer. His lips brushed your temple in a brief, possessive kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. For a while you both sat in silence, listening to the rustling trees and soft quacking of ducklings as they reunited with their mother. It was more comforting than Toji would ever admit out loud.

Eventually, he spoke, his voice low and gravelly, “I don’t got a lot to offer and I sure as hell ain’t good with words. But I’ll take care of you. You’ll never have to worry about that.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his solid shoulder, “That’s all I need.” 

That was when your journey truly began and it wasn’t long before Toji proposed… So again you asked yourself, when did it all go wrong? 

When the anniversary of your divorce finally came around, your friends decided to treat you to dinner to get your mind off your troubles. But on the drive home, you found yourself taking a detour and then another, your mind drifted as your hand steered the wheel almost on its own. 

Before you knew it, you had arrived at the park that started it all. You sat there for a minute, staring at the familiar scenery, unsure of what you were expecting to find— perhaps some ghosts of the past. It was definitely quiet and eerily so. 

You stepped out of the car and walked slowly to that same bench, it had aged even more since you saw it last. Sitting down, you closed your eyes and let the memories from that day wash over you— the warmth of Toji’s arm and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. 

But those were just memories now. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there but the cold was beginning to bite through your clothes. So with a deep sigh, you decided it was time to leave. Whatever you were searching for, it wasn’t going to be here. 

The sound of footsteps made your heart skip a beat, and you snapped your head towards the sound. You weren’t expecting anyone to be here at this hour. 

And then you saw him.

You had to blink once, twice— thrice to make sure you weren’t imagining his broad silhouette against the fading light. Neither of you moved and you hoped that maybe you could escape before he saw you too. But you knew that was impossible.

“Toji…”

He didn’t answer right away but he took a step closer with his hands still in his pocket. “Shit… Didn’t expect to see you here,” his voice rough, as if cutting through the silence like a blade. 

“I-I didn’t think…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, praying that when you took your hand away, he’d be gone.

Toji eyed the bench and you saw a flicker of something on his face that made your chest tighten. “This place…” He began as his gaze fell on the empty spot beside you, “It’s somethin’, huh?”

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. The park that felt so empty just moments ago was now humming with tension between the both of you— the weight of a year without each other hanging in the air.  

He didn’t mean to sit next to you but he had to do something to make up for the silence. 

“So, how’ve you been?” your question came out more awkwardly than intended. You swallowed hard as you tried to compose yourself. 

Toji shrugged, “Been gettin’ by.”

He was still the same— gruff, unreadable, with an air of indifference that used to drive you crazy in more ways than one.

The small talk felt like a waste of time and you wanted to jump into everything left unsaid. You knew he wasn’t the type to have the patience for it either. 

“I didn’t expect to end up here,” you admitted, more to yourself than to him. “I just… I don’t know. I felt like I needed to see it again.”

His expression darkened, “It brings back a lot, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t answer, you just nodded. This park was a place of new beginnings and now it felt like a graveyard of what could have been. The silence was starting to stretch and grow thicker with each passing second.

“Why didn’t you fight for us, Toji?” The question slipped out before you could stop and it was laced with pain that had been simmering for too long.

Toji turned to you, his eyes narrowed slightly, “What good would it have done?” And then he stood up— you almost thought he was going to leave again. “You made up your mind.”

“You could have tried!” You snapped. “You just let it fall apart like it didn’t mean a damn thing to you.”

His jaw clenched as he stepped closer. “You’re the one who filed for the divorce,” he growled. “You’re the one who walked away.” 

“Because you wouldn’t fight for us!” You shot back, now standing up in his face. 

His eyes flashed with anger as he closed the distance between you, looming over you with that presence that used to make you feel so safe. Now it made your heart race for different reasons. “You think it was easy to watch you leave? To sign those damn papers?” His voice was louder than before. “I didn’t fight because I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

“That’s bullshit, Toji,” you hissed, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “You never even tried. You let me walk out of your life like I was nothing.”

He took another step forward and you could almost feel the heat radiating off his body. “Don’t you dare say you were nothing,” he snarled. “You were everything to me.”

The intensity of his words hit you like a physical blow so before you knew it, you were shoving him. “Then why did it feel like I didn’t matter?” Your voice trembled as it came out in a rush and you hated yourself for breaking this fast. “Why did you make it seem like it was so damn easy?”

Toji caught your wrists, his grip was firm but not painful. “You think it was easy for me?” his breath was fanning your face. “You didn’t think I was kickin’ myself every day since? Tell me why you think I came back here,” he shook you. “It’s because I missed the hell out of you!” 

You struggled against his hold but he didn’t let go, and something raw and desperate came over his glare. The air was thick with anger, hurt, and another thing that you didn’t want to admit.

Your breath hitched in your throat, “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to walk back into—”

Before you could continue, his lips crashed against yours, cutting off whatever protest you had. The kiss was rough and hungry, fuelled by the emotions he had been burying for the past year. You tried to resist, to push him away but your body worked against you.

“Let… me… go…” You said between gasps, though you lacked the conviction.

“No,” he whispered, “Not until you understand that you mattered, that you still matter.”

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer before catching you in another ferocious kiss. You couldn’t help but melt into him. The hurt began to dissolve into something more primal and you were responding to him with a need that had never really gone away. You could feel his longing and frustration too. All the pent-up emotions came crashing down and it wasn’t just about the kiss anymore; it was about everything left unresolved between you.

He slid his hands up your back and held you until there was no space left. As he brushed his tongue against your lips— as you allowed him in— the familiar scent of his cologne flooded your senses. You didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to dwell on the pain or the past. Not yet. Right now, you just wanted to feel.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless.  Your hands hadn’t left his chest and your fingers trembled, the mixed emotions were written on both of your faces. 

“Toji…” 

He looked at your lips, and then your eyes. You understood the conflict writhing in him. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he finally said. 

You knew what he was suggesting— it was a terrible idea. It would only complicate things but the larger part of you didn’t care. You needed this and you needed him, undeniably. 

The walk back to the car was a blur.

When you reached the car, you expected him to ask where to go, but instead, he pushed you against the car door and began trailing kisses down your neck. God, it had been so long since anybody touched you like this so when he started sucking the sensitive spots he knew so well, it was enough for you to forget your own name.

You moaned softly as his hands moved to your breasts, massaging them through your clothes. Hearing you like this after all this time had him grind against your thigh, his already half-hard bulge pressing into you. 

“Fuck—” he muttered, his breath hot and heavy. “The things you do to me…” he paused, brushing his lips against your ear. “Think you’re gonna make it home, baby?” 

No. The honest answer was that you weren’t sure. Every touch was so deliberate and the way he called you ‘baby’ after all these rotten months was so intoxicating, that you were almost offended he remained the same since you last slept together. You probably dragged out the divorce just to hold onto the sex for a little longer. 

Without an answer, he took it as a sign to squeeze your thigh, ready to hoist you around his waist but—

“Toji,” you interrupted, trying not to sound like it was out of pleasure even though it was ready to overtake you. If you were going to fuck your ex-husband, it was going to be on your terms, in the comfort of your own home, 

“My place. Now.”

“Come inside…”

When the front door closed behind you, Toji was on you again, lips crashing into yours with a force that took your breath away.

He backed you into the living room, restraint now completely gone. His hands were everywhere— exploring, claiming— slipping under your shirt, and tracing the contours of your body with a hunger that made your knees weak. 

You didn’t hold back either, your fingers tugging at his jacket, eager to feel his skin. He pinned you against the wall, nipping love bites below your collarbone. You fumbled with his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as your own clothes began to disappear piece by piece. 

“God, you’re still so perfect,” he murmured as he kissed down your stomach. You were left in only your panties and Toji didn’t hesitate to show his gratitude by pressing his lips against the thin, lacey fabric. “Every damn night… You were always in my head,” he confessed while looking up at you with those sinful eyes. He lapped you through the fabric, once, twice, and your body responded instantly, his name began rolling off your tongue. 

This was taking you right back.

“Don’t know how I let you slip away,” he said, his voice rough with regret, as he yanked your panties to the side and sank his mouth directly into your folds. He swirled circles around your clit and you couldn’t help but rock your hips towards his face.

“Toji… don’t… stop…” you pleaded, biting your lip while your hands were tangled in his hair. He groaned in response, one hand palming his cock through his trousers, the other gripping your thigh to keep you steady. The thought of your ex-husband on his knees, groaning and telling you how much he regretted losing you while his face was buried in your pussy, sent a rush of heat through you.

“I’m not… going anywhere,” he muttered as he unbuttoned his pants. “Not this time,” he freed his cock, stroking it slowly as his tongue sloppily dragged up and down your sweet spot, making you clench around him.

The room was quiet aside from the sound of him devouring you. His movements became faster and more greedy, and you could feel yourself shaking and squirming on him. Every time you moaned his name, he fucked his fist with more desperation, spurred on by the way you tightened around his tongue. 

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he said through grunts. He slid a finger inside you, and then another, stretching you just enough before pumping you with relentless vigor. His impatience was palpable; he never bothered with a slow build-up, and the intensity had you arching against the wall and pushing his head deeper into your cunt. 

Shit. 

You were close— so close— and he wasn’t going to stop until you were cumming all over his mouth.

The way he moved, the way he touched— it was sensory overload. As he flattened his tongue and rubbed it over your clit, again and again, he glanced up at you, his eyes dark with hunger. When he let go of his length to play with your nipples, you were instantly spiraling over the edge.

“Oh, fuck!” You cried out, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Don’t stop!” 

And of course, he didn’t.

Your vision went white as wave after wave of sensation rolled through you, your body convulsing as you came, and your juices coating his chin and fingers. When he finally pulled away, he looked no better than a hound who had just feasted and a small pool of precum sat below his cock, which was now twitching eagerly against his stomach.

Limp and spent, you almost slid down the wall, but Toji quickly caught you by the chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. 

“Ah ah ah—” he taunted you, “You’re forgettin’ something.”

You mustered enough energy to roll your eyes, retorting, “You’re in no position to expect anything from me,” but out of the kindness of your heart (not), you did it anyway.

It was almost a custom to kiss him after he’d been between your legs. He loved the filthiness of it, how it riled him up in ways nothing else could. Still catching your breath, you pressed your lips on his, tasting yourself on his tongue as he deepened it.

“Tastes good, huh?” he whispered against your lips, a grin spreading across his face.

Annoyed by the brief pause in his touch, you replied, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

You impatiently pulled him back, continuing the heated kiss.

The hint of sass in your voice made his cock twitch, a reminder that there was still unfinished business. Between gasps and sighs, you snaked your hand across the hard lines of his body, heading straight to his length. But as you wrapped your fingers around his throbbing shaft, he grabbed your wrist.

Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Nah,” he gruffed, “You ain’t doing nothin’ tonight, baby.”

Before anything else, Toji moved. In a swift motion, he led you to your couch— pushing you down onto the cushions as they sank beneath your weight. Your heart raced when he positioned himself above you.

“Toji–” you breathed, your hands ran to his chest, feeling the hard muscle flex under your touch. 

“I’m takin’ care of you tonight,” he settled between your thighs, “Just relax for me.”

He rubbed his fat tip at your entrance, teasing just enough to make you whine, but that was the last of his patience. Gripping your hip with his free hand, he buried himself inside you with one deep thrust. It strangled a helpless moan out of you. The stretch was as delicious as you remembered, filling you in a way that was both familiar and overwhelmingly new.

“F-Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he grunted low in his throat. Resting his forehead on yours, his breath was staggered as he gave you a moment to adjust. You couldn’t form a coherent response, too caught up by the way he was splitting you apart. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist and he needed no more encouragement than that.

He started moving and his pace was unforgiving from the start. It was hard and deep, each thrust pushing you into the cushions. The couch creaked beneath you but you barely noticed.

“Yes-Yes, Toji—” you gasped, nails digging into the bare skin of his back as he pounded into you. You could feel him everywhere, his hands on your waist, his chest pressed against yours, the thick length of him sliding in and out with a rhythm that had you seeing stars. The way he took you— it was almost like the first time all over again.

But Toji wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, making you look up at him while he was fucking you, 

“You’re mine.” 

His voice was possessive and it sent a jolt straight to your core. If it was even possible, he picked up his pace and became erratic. Each movement drew a cry from you as your back arched off the couch. 

“More… Please—  don’t stop…”

“I won’t,” he cooed, “I’m right here, baby. I’m not lettin’ you go.”

Your moans grew louder as he continuously hit the sweet spot that had your walls tightening around him. The room mingled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your breathless cries, and his ragged grunts.

When your nails sunk even deeper into his skin, you could have sworn the bastard threw his head back, with that infamous smirk tugging at his mouth.

But you could feel it coming, your body was tensing and ready to snap. 

“Toji… I think I’m gonna—”

“Do it, baby,” he urged. He released your hair, his hand sliding down to your throat, holding you there as he fucked you even harder. “Let me feel you.”

That was all it took. 

Your orgasm crashed over you but he didn’t slow down. He fucked you right through your climax as you cried out his name.

Toji wasn’t far behind. As you gripped him, he shuddered, thrusting a few more times before spilling his thick white cum into you, pulsing as he filled you with his warmth. His loudest groan followed right after. 

For a moment, neither of you moved as you caught your breath. 

You could feel his heartbeat slowly calming and his grip on you tightened as if to hold you closer. Remaining tangled together was not a choice, you told yourself. It was just the outcome of exhaustion. 

But a part of you knew better.

You wondered how long it was going to take for him to pull out but he stayed inside you. His softening length kept his seed from spilling out entirely.

Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a stark difference from what had just happened. 

In the darkness of your home, you saw it— the same look he gave you on the day he asked you to be his. There was a glimpse of sadness too.

Maybe, just maybe, he cared after all.

As he looked down at you, chest still heaving from the intensity, Toji was struck by the fear that had haunted him for months. The fear he had truly lost you— that no amount of sex, no confessions, could fix the damage that had been done. But something allowed him to hope.

“I know that didn’t mean shit as an apology,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’ll earn you back if you’d let me.”

His words hung heavy in the air.

As you searched for an answer, a thought crept in: whatever this was, it was far from over. 

And maybe, just maybe, that was okay— at least for now. 

a/n: this is the first jjk fic i’ve written in two years. i was so scared to post this. i’m not kidding, my heart was gonna fall out of my ass. i’ve been a sukuna girl through and through but toji can take the spotlight i guesssss

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

divider and line break by @/chachachannah

mdni banner template from @/kithsune

[weepingwillowwonder]

This is NSFW Hasbin Hotel : Vox & Lucifer (seperately)

Reactions to Shy!Reader with an oral fixation~

CW: Explicit content, cockwarming, dirty talk, some degradation, daddy kink, penetration, finger sucking, praise kink

----

Vox - Is absolutely the type to make you hold his cock in your mouth while he's working...

Despite the door being open at the moment, you hesitantly peek inside and give a soft knock on the door. “What?” He questions sharply, arms crossed, staring ahead at the surveillance footage in front of him. You quietly enter the office, biting your lip in anticipation. Once Vox sees it's you, he sighs in annoyance. “Babydoll…” he drawls. “What are you doing here?” You look down and shift slightly, mumbling some excuse about both Valentino and Velvette being busy…something else about wanting his attention after being alone all morning. 

He considers you for a moment before sitting down and swiveling himself around towards his desk, typing away at his keyboard. “What did I say about coming to my office while I’m working?” he asks. You slowly lift your head up to see him briefly glance over his shoulder before going back to typing. You’re not sure if you should answer that question, hoping that he’ll take your silence for some sort of apology. After all, you knew it was a gamble coming here anyway, especially for something as silly as this. A long pause of silence passes before he asks you the question again, this time more firmly. “What. Did. I. Say?” He fully turns towards you now and you can’t help but think about how attractive he looks in this moment. Arms crossed against his chest, legs spread wide in his office chair. Your voice breaks slightly when you open your mouth to answer, “Y-you said not to…” He slowly nods his head and turns back around. For a moment, his lack of reaction gives you the false hope of getting out of whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into. 

As you open your mouth again to try to defend yourself, he cuts you off - “...lock the door and come here.” Your breath starts to quicken slightly and you’re frozen in place at his command. You’re not sure where the courage went that put you in this situation to begin with. Vox continues his work, almost as if this whole encounter wasn’t occurring. What does get your feet scrambling to move is the dangerous sound of his voice when he speaks again. “Don’t make me ask you again.” 

-And now your knees are, oh so bruised, from holding their position under his desk. However, you wouldn’t dare to move, scared of displeasing Vox any further. He would ignore your presence, entirely focused on his work and the task at hand. Maybe if you're lucky, he might absentmindedly stroke the top of your head, giving you some sort of indication that he remembers you're still there. It's only when he starts to get close that he'll grip your hair, roughly thrusting himself in and out of your mouth - "Can't get anything done with you whining about wanting attention.” He’d throw his head back and moan deeply, “always whining about wanting something in your mouth. Such a little slut. This is what you wanted, right? Be good and take it all..."

Lucifer - - You wouldn't tell him you needed it, but as experienced as Lucifer is, he would already know...

He'd have you in his bed, laying on your back like the pillow prince or princess you are. Slowly slipping his cock into you, he firmly holds your hips in place as you unconsciously try to move away from the overwhelming sensation. "Don't run from me..." He softly laughs and smirks down at you, setting a fast pace that hits deeper into you. "You're taking it so well, sweetheart..."

Unable to look him in the eye, you turn your head to the side, thoughtlessly pressing your fingers up to your mouth to cover your moans. You gasp suddenly as he finds that special spot and keeps pressing into you, reveling in your reaction. "So good...so good" He growls out, sliding his hands down your thighs before grabbing the backs of your knees and forcing them to your chest. You whine pathetically as he continues to praise you, his eyes briefly slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you squeezing around him. When they open, his hips stutter as he glances down at you.

One of your hands weak presses against his chest, not really trying to push him away, but feeling overwhelmed in the moment. The other, however, has your three middle fingers disappeared into your mouth, desperately sucking as you feel yourself getting close. Lucifer curses and spends no time to give you what you need. He maneuvers your legs so they're now wrapped around his waist and takes your free wrists into his hand, pinning it above your head. Your eyes suddenly snap open when you feel him sliding your hand out of your mouth, messy with your own saliva, and replaces it with his own. He bites his lip as you eagerly accept him into your mouth, whining desperately around his fingers. It doesn't take much longer to push you over the edge after that, especially with Lucifer coaxing the orgasm out of you- "...that's it baby, you just needed daddy's fingers right?"

[vulpeskorsak]

Day 3 of Whumptober 2024: Biggest fan

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you.”

AO3 got banned in my country and VPNs have not been working well on my PC lately, so I am not going to post these there for now. But hopefully I can do that at some point.

This is taking place in a hidden-supernatural modern day setting.

Alva is a radio host found of the supernatural, horror and mystery.

This is a moment from his childhood.

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

Biggest fan

"Could you change the channel, please? This guy is beginning to piss me off."

"I thought you'd never ask," Irina laughs, following the request.

She also hates this useless demagogue, so she has no objection to watching anything else.

"-king news! Richard Jeremy Swanson was found dead this morning. His body was found at 11 am in the recording room of the Stellar Station building. It has been cordoned off and the investigation is ongoing."

A plate almost slips out of the soapy hands of her husband Joshua who stares at the screen in complete disbelief. Every morning of their family would start with turning the radio on and listening to the Show and they would often do the same in the evening. It has been a household tradition for, what… almost five years now?

Irina silently stares at the screen, wondering if this is really happening, until she hears a soft creak behind them.

Oh no.

"A witness present in the building during the incident claims that the other member of the locally famous host duo of "The Thomas and Jeremy Show", Thomas Baxter, has been arrested under suspicion of murder with extreme atrocity. The witness claims that the body was found in a condition that could only be described as-"

"Josh…"

She grabs the controller knowing well it is too late. The TV is turned off. She looks at him and then slowly points behind his back with her wide-open eyes as she puts the remote on the counter between them.

They turn around to see their son staring at the darkened TV screen with a blank expression. Irina's stomach drops. It is his favourite show. How could she explain this to him? How could she comfort him?

"Honey?" She tries, taking a step towards the boy. "Alva? Is…"

Alva runs towards her with intense determination and surprising speed. Sensing his exact intension, Irina snatches up the TV remote and raises it above his reach just as he makes a jump for it.

"No! Let me see! There is some… misunderstanding! They have to say something about it! He would never do something like that! They were friends!"

Tears are streaming down his face and he continues to jump again and again. There has to be a mistake. A misunderstanding, maybe? He needs to see what else they will say.

"Alva, honey, we… we cannot know-"

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I HAVE TO KNOW! Tom would never hurt anyone! He had to have been set up! Or… They actually did get him! As Jeremy said They might!"

"That was just a joke." Joshua sighs, trying to find the words to explain. "A comedic conspiracy he made up, so the Show would be more interesting to listen to."

The boy vigorously shakes his head. He stops jumping, trying to catch his breath as the tears have begun choking him.

"No! … I mean… Please!" He begs, reaching out of the remote. "I need to know the details!"

Irina is unable to find words to comfort her son. The child raising book that she has read from cover to cover says nothing about what to do if your child's hero gets killed by your child's other hero. She is completely out of her depth. And her husband is looking just as dumbfounded as she feels.

"How about we wait a little?" she suggests, hoping her gamble would work out. "Give the investigators time to work? Let's not worry too much before there are concrete evidence, alright? Maybe, we can watch the evening news and by then the police would have found something different out."

"Yes! Of course! Evidence!"

Alva suddenly stops crying, appearing to be deep in thought instead. Joshua moves out of the way as his son approaches the almost empty sink to wash his face. He wonders if there is anything helpful he can actually say buy the words just won't come out.

"You are so smart, mom!"

Alva grins wiping his hands with a towel before turning around and running off towards the front door.

"Alva? Honey? Where are you going?"

"To find evidence!" He responds as he puts the shoes on.

"They will not let you in there, my dear." Irina shakes her head.

"But I have to try!"

He is out of the house with the bike before she can say anything else.

"You cannot be serious!" Irina cries out.

"Good luck!" Joshua yells simultaneously, waving the soapy dish and almost dropping it again as his wife elbows him in the stomach. "Ouch! What?!"

"Do not encourage him!"

"I just wished him good luck!"

He sighs finally turning around to deal with the plate.

"Should we go after him? Or do you think he'll get kicked out by police and return home?"

Irina mimics his sigh. She is well aware that will not happen.

"Let's… give him half an hour and then drive over to the station to pick him up," she says turning on the TV again, though the segment is already over.

[letsgofoletsgo]

My part of an art trade for @konoa-t, reminder that my trades/commissions are open!

Tucked away in the corner of Gamble Galaxy, there was a planet largely uninhabited by intelligent civilization. This planet had no name, but was covered in lush forest. Towering trees of green, yellow, and pink covered the lands, their large, rustling leaves creating a shadowy blanket along the forest floor. Various critters made their homes in these trees, in burrows in the ground. They enjoyed a happy, peaceful life on this quaint planet.

However, there was one area where the foliage was cut into. A haphazard gash was recently formed, knocking over the trees and unearthing the ground. At the other end of the smoldering wreck, the cause of this “wound” was present. A small ship lay on its side, still smoking from the inertia. Its wings were styled like those of a bat, and they were hanging on by a thread. The front of the ship looked something like a mask, the glass window now shattered.

From a tiny door on the upward side of the ship, a round, orange creature leaped out. It was a Waddle Dee, and he donned a blue and white sailor hat on his head; along with a worried expression on his face. He scurried around the ship, surveying the damage. To his dismay, the ship was in pretty bad condition. There were serious repairs to be done if it were ever to fly again.

While he was a bit intimidated by the amount of damage to the ship, he figured nothing would be solved by sitting around and moping. The first thing he’d need to do was gather supplies, not only for repairs but to sustain himself (despite not having mouths, Waddle Dees still needed to eat). He set his sights on the forest surrounding the ship, and picked a direction. Before he went to explore, he grabbed a sharp stick that was snapped off during the impact.

The Waddle Dee ventured cautiously through the multicolored forest. As he walked, he made periodic indents in the ground behind him- at least he’d be able to find his way back into the ship. He kept his eye out for anything that may be of use, but the little creature also found himself admiring the scenery around him. The leaves created soothing hues against the sunlight, warm patches dancing about as it was blown by the breeze. Most of the trees stood tall, but there were some that were smaller and more erratically shaped. Their bark ranged from lemon yellow to cotton candy pink, and had almost fluffy leaves. His situation may not have been ideal, but at least he found himself an aesthetically pleasing location to be stranded at.

Then, at the corner of the Waddle Dee’s eye, he saw something. Hanging from one of the lower branches was a tangle of vines, all varying shades of soft pastel color. He figured he could use these vines to repair certain parts of the ship, at least for the time being. Holding his sharp stick in hand, he bounded over to the tangle. He noticed where the vines were tangled the thickest, and traced down where they began to separate. Stick in hand, he angled it to begin cutting away at the cluster. A new sense of hope began to well in his little body at this find. He figured things may not be hopeless, maybe he could really get out of here!

When suddenly, he heard a rustle behind him. The Waddle Dee froze in his tracks, heart stopping at the noise. Ever so slowly, he turned around, stick held out in front of him. There was nothing discernable in front of him, just a layer of thick bushes- when one began to rustle again. He pointed his stick to the bush, scared but ready to face whatever creature awaited him.

To his surprise however, it was no horrible creature that leapt out. Rather, it was one that looked like him! A fellow Waddle Dee, this one wearing an old-fashioned nurse cap. He seemed to be rather lost himself, jumping back in startelement when he noticed the stick.

��P-Please don’t hurt me! I don’t want to fight!” He cried, placing his nubby hands over his head.

The other Waddle Dee lowered his weapon, shocked at this encounter. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to fight either. What’s a little guy like you doing all the way out here?” He asked, stepping closer.

“Well, uh,” He sniffed. “I was exploring with my friend Yumi, but we got separated and I can’t find her.”

“I see. What’s your name?”

“Rueben, you?”

“Well, people call me Sailor Waddle Dee, but you can just call me Sailor.” He said. “I’m in the same sort of predicament you are, actually.”

“Really?” This seemed to comfort Rueben somewhat. “What happened?”

“You see, I’m a part of a large spaceship, and I was sent out to fight an oncoming threat. Unfortunately, I was shot down, and I crash landed not too far from him.”

“Gosh, that sounds scary. It's a good thing you weren’t hurt.” Ruben said.

“Agreed, though I can’t say the same about my craft. In fact, I’m out here gathering supplies to see if I can repair it.”

“Ah.” Reuben thought for a moment. “Um, do you think maybe I could come along with you? I-I can help you out!” He suggested.

“Sounds like a fine idea!” Sailor said confidently. “You can help me out here, and I can help you find your way back to your friend!”

“You… You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, my friend. Two Waddle Dees are better than one, after all.”

The other Dee lit up “Oh, thank you!! Thank you, I promise I’ll do the best I can! Anything you need!”

“Sounds like a plan. On that note,” Sailor looked back up at the foliage. “How about you help me with carrying these vines back?”

“Will do!” Reuben piped.

And so, the two Waddle Dees set out to prepare for the days ahead. It wouldn’t be easier, but with each other, the two had newfound hope they’d be able to return to their respective paths- and make a new friend along the way.

[worldhell-archiving]

❝ ... I guess that's how it goes. ❞ He doesn't question it. Levi was right about this thing after all. Cutthroat and blunt, but he knows how kind a heart Levi had. It weighs heavier on his shoulders then his own. But, shit. Fingers lock within the soft ruffling of hair, his sigh inaudible; incompetence got you killed. Maybe there would have been a chance for them if things had turned out differently. Dangerous, but possible. Not everyone was cut out for it. Farlan learnt quickly how similar it was up here; hell was waiting for them in this world, regardless of where they tried to escape. He can't say he's the type to give his heart like that, not anything close to what Levi can. But there's a reason he was here without any benefit of his own. Hope resided in it's own, unique form.

❝ Seriously? That's way too dangerous a call. ❞ Tongue clicks, and he can feel his frustration rise; but he wasn't here to call the shots. Not on an operation like this. Shit. ❝ Look, I get we haven't covered much ground, but the losses are already outweighing the results. If it keeps going like this, we'll have more bodies then able people. ❞

Farlan knows when to retreat; but he'd continue to ride into this hell, wouldn't he? Not all the soldiers here were ready to give up their lives, not in the face of death itself. That had been proven enough. What the regiment stood for and how newer recruits felt, well, those often conflicted with soldiers fresh out of training.

❝ Are we really taking this gamble? Well ... we're walking a thin line either way I suppose. ❞ He could have remained inside the walls. Maybe that was the smarter choice if he weighed everything up; but that wouldn't have been possible to begin with. He made his choice, against better judgement, when Isabel died ... when strangers from the surface, soldiers, sacrificed their life for him. Levi's mind was set that day; he'd changed. Farlan could have cut things off there, but he didn't. Can't stop him, then join him. There's a resolve in him, even if he was still working through it, bit by bit.

❝ Levi. You really trust in his judgement, don't you? ❞

❝ They're not coming back. ❞ His response a dry one, his instincts having rarely failed him in the many years they've been fighting side by side for their survival. The squad leader in charge of the group gone missing was an incompetent one, the Captain having noticed from the start: of the coward he was, one who could only value his own life in the face of gruesome death — a human being, who didn't know any better than to dedicate his life for a purpose he didn't understand. Based on raw skill they had chosen him to lead, talent becoming more rare these days, impossible to ignore in their ranks. Another one of his bets gone wrong. Another bet costing them lives ignorant of their predetermined doom.

His shoulders grew heavier. Another two-digit number added to the count of lives lost under their command — his command. For he carried both their sins, his and Erwin's.

He hadn't regretted his decision — he never would. Often when he saw Farlan stand by his side, in the same bloodsoaked battlefield they lost Isabel — in the same battlefield he had to pull him out of a Titan's stomach, Levi found himself barely recognizing him, despite being the only one to have changed. As if haunted by Farlan's ghost, as if he had actually died on that day. As if he remained by his side to remind him of who he had once been, someone who served his own selfish desires, who had no place to serve humanity. Someone Levi grew to despise, someone who'd get them all killed for his pride. Didn't he die on that day? Who Levi was? Hadn't loss shattered his heart, until his sense of being ceased to exist ?

If so, what part of him was Farlan still attached to? Why follow him in a lifetime of certain death? Were there any remnants of his past self, parts Erwin hadn't control over? How could he erase them out of existence? Make sure the other wouldn't fight somebody else's battle, but reside behind walls that'd keep him safe, if only for a while longer. For he deserved this second chance, instead of abandoning any chance at finding peace, only because Levi wasn't capable of it any longer. Their deal was of a different kind after all — stay together, as long as it was for both their benefit. How come Farlan hadn't realized yet?

❝ We can't go back yet. ❞ Another mission with nothing to report. Another mission they'd return empty-handed. Erwin wouldn't revoke the mission, not until they achieved anything, no matter how small. Normally he'd be the one to push for them to retreat, but he knew better — when it was his place to intervene, and when to stand back and follow orders. A look at the Commander's face was the answer he needed. ❝ If we retreat as it is, there's no guarantee there's going to be an expedition to follow. ❞

[thisismysecondrodeo]

“Love is a gamble we play and you’ve got much safer odds” - Ted Lasso x Reader Fanfic Part 3 (FINAL)

AN: The final chapter! Once again, thanks to @lassoposting for this request. Ted x Reader was new for me but was a lot of fun to write so I hope I did it justice! I originally thought angst would resolve in Part 2 and this would be mostly fluff but uhhhh its really more like hurt/comfort whoops lol. Thanks for reading!

Rating: General

Tags: Henry Lasso, Michelle Lasso, Coach Beard, Jealous!Reader, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Beard’s got your back, Hurt/Comfort

Part 1 | Part 2 | Fic masterlist

-

You thought about texting Beard as you shut the door to your apartment ready to crawl back into the cocoon of sadness you’d been developing over the past few days. It felt childish to wallow like that but you had let yourself fall and that was what happened. You didn’t text anyone; instead, you set your phone to ‘do not disturb’ again and alternated between thinking you deserved the hurt and letting yourself be angry that Ted had let you down so badly. Of all the things you had thought of that could go wrong on Henry’s trip—and you had thought of many—Ted getting back together with his ex-wife had never crossed your mind. 

Because your phone was on do not disturb you were surprised when there was a knock at the door. Maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised to see Ted, maybe deep down you were hoping he’d show up, but unfortunately, he’d caught you in the midst of nothing but anger. You didn’t say anything as the door swung open, just gestured for him to come in and shut the door before making your way back to the couch. 

“HI baby,” Ted greeted you, his voice soft with worry. 

Baby? BABY. You didn’t think you could be more upset but “baby” unleashed a whole new level of hurt. You wanted to suggest that he should only be calling Michelle that, but instead, you said nothing, and Ted shifted on his feet not sitting down. Not crowding you. Just waiting. 

“Hey, Y/N, what’s going on here? You, uh, seemed real upset at the park and I haven’t heard from you…” 

“Yeah, well I haven’t heard from you either,” you stated. You were trying your best for neutral, unaffected. Part of you felt like he didn’t deserve your anger, but the other part still wanted this to be salvageable. You loved him and he hurt your feelings, it happened. But, God, the embarrassment of explaining why you were even upset to begin with, the fact that he didn’t notice. 

Ted took a deep breath. “I know. I know. We haven’t really gotten a chance to ourselves and I know you know that I never would have kept Michelle coming from you. I genuinely didn’t know she was feelin’ the way she felt about it all and—”

“And that’s why you’re getting back together. I get it. Whatever. You’ve got a family, I guess it was silly of me to think this was ever going to be more.” 

“Woah hold on now.” Ted held his hands up defensively and edged closer. “Who said anything about—” 

“‘Divorce is so much harder than I thought it would be,’” you quoted and he cringed as if you had hit him. “The canceling of plans. The excuse you made for me at the park, that I didn’t need by the way, just to what? Keep me from Henry? Make sure Michelle knew nothing was going on between us? God, Ted, where is she even staying, huh? I feel so fucking stupid.”

Ted was gaping at you while you spoke but nothing slowed the words tumbling from your mouth. Now that you’d let out a bit of anger it continued to pour like steam from a pressure cooker. When you were done, he sat beside you stiffly. He moved an arm like he might reach for your hand, but thought better of it. 

“Darlin’. Y/N. I wish you would have told me. I…All this time I thought I was doing the right thing by you. I thought when you left the bar you were overwhelmed with meeting Henry. I wanted to, ya know, give ya space before you even had to ask. Give ya an excuse for not bein’ ready…And I thought I was doing the right thing by Michelle because SHE’S been overwhelmed with basically bein’ a single parent and I guess I felt like I’d be making it up to her this week—”

“Yeah, I’m sure she has.” As soon as the words left your lips you knew it was petty and unfair. You wanted to suck in your derision. You weren’t the type of person to blame the other woman for what the partner had fucked up. And yet. 

“Don’t,” Ted said quietly, not unkindly but seriously. He stood up from the couch and stepped away. “You know, I can admit that I may have messed up these past few days, that I read some things wrong. Did too much on account of how my, uh, well, my marriage failed in the past. And I’m very sorry. Very. But you knew I had a family, you knew this would take some work and I just…I guess I just wish you could be a little more understanding.” 

That stung and your face didn’t hide it. You didn’t respond and Ted waited an awkward amount of time for you to say or do anything but you just turned away and burrowed deeper into the couch. Eventually, he sighed and left and when the door closed you wept. 

-

You had never, not once, missed Reverse Book Club since its inception, but today, the day after your blowout argument with Ted, you were strongly considering it. But you knew Beard would come looking anyway, so it made more sense just to get it over with. You picked up the book you hadn’t touched since that day in the park and made your way to the Crown & Anchor. 

Beard took one look at you and sat down Red, White, and Royal Blue , taking a long sip of his beer and waiting for you to say something. You had planned to say nothing, per the rules of Reverse Book Club, no matter what had happened before, no matter how much you had come to rely on Beard’s sage words. When you didn’t start talking, the older man prompted you. “You’ve been crying.” 

And it was his soft tone, the concern and lightly restrained anger underneath that made your resolve crumble like biscuits. Tears were escaping before you said your first word, and once you opened your mouth you couldn’t stop. Beard listened intently, offering only a sigh here or a nod there and your eyes were too blurry with tears to read him well. When you finished he didn’t say anything, just nodded, patted your hand gently, and nudged your book toward you before picking up his own. You thought you had wanted a pep talk, but upon realizing you wouldn’t get one you were so thankful to just turn into your book, turn into yourself, and let the sadness sit. 

A few hours after Reverse Book Club ends you get a text from Ted asking if you can come over. It makes you a little nauseous, then a little angry that he’d make you come to him to get formally broken up with, and then underneath it all a little hopeful, a little lighter now that you’d heard from him. You tried not to rush to him, to cushion everything over and make up, but it only took you 20 minutes to get there and knock at his door. 

You weren’t sure what to expect on the other side but were surprised that as Ted opened the door with one hand, he was pulling you into his chest with the other. He held you tightly and tears threatened at the corners of your eyes but never fell. You noticed as he released you and led you into the kitchen that the flat was quiet, it was just the two of you there. And just Ted and Henry’s shoes lined up in the doorway. 

Ted pulled a chair out for you and then for himself, sitting closely so that his knee was touching yours. He opened his mouth to speak but you quickly cut him off, surprising the both of you.

“What happened? I mean, what changed? That’s…that’s the first time we’ve touched in a week.” You asked, a little brokenly. 

Ted smiled softly. “I know, I’ve felt like my skin was itchin’ not holdin’ you every night.” 

You wanted to smile but you needed him to be serious now, not cute. You needed to know where you stood and he caught on to that quickly and continued to answer. 

“But really—Beard came by here after Reverse Book Club and, uh, told me what’s what. Knocked some sense into me, almost literally I might add.”

“What did he say? How much of a sad sack I was?”

“No, he told me what a fool I’d been trying to people-please anyone and everyone all the time and that no one was going to be happy with the outcome, not you, not Michelle, and definitely not me. Because I was about to run you off and he just got into Red, White, and Royal Blue so I better not mess up book club.”

That time you did smile, touched by Beard’s friendship. 

“After that, I had a good long talk with Michelle about what was goin’ on. She seemed confused why you weren’t around more like she had expected you to be. She had no idea she was the reason and when I admitted how badly I had screwed up, I got quite the earful. And it's especially embarrassing because I know you. Just as well as I think you know me. And I should have been able to figure all this out on my own, but it took my best friend and my ex-wife to make me realize I was causing pain to the person that is the best partner I’ve ever had the pleasure of callin’ mine.” 

Ted took your hand and you let him as you let his words wash over you. 

“God, I was so, so mad at you Ted.” 

“I know. I know and I deserve it. And I understand if there’s no coming back, but I just had to try. I asked Michelle to take the little man to her hotel for a while and maybe out for ice cream or somethin’ so we could talk and when she drops him back off she’s gonna go do some solo sightseeing. And I thought maybe we could…” 

Ted pulled out the Lego set you had bought to do with Henry, the Lego Starry Night that had been incredibly hard to come by. You found yourself caught on the small phrase Ted had slipped in: her hotel . The idea of Michelle staying here, of them getting back together was the foundation of your belief that this was all over. You were glad it wasn’t the truth. Glad that Ted felt remorse over how much he had hurt you. And most importantly you had never stopped being head over heels with the silly American. 

“Now before you go acceptin’ my apology or breakin’ up with me, either of which is well within your right, I just want to state succinctly and for the record: I have been a big ol’ idiot assuming what everyone around me wants instead of just listenin’ to what they’re sayin’. I’m so sorry I hurt you sweetheart and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again.” 

You smiled at him, a real smile, and asked, “and what do you want Ted?”

“Oh well, that’s easy. I want you a part of my life and a part of this family for as long as I can have you. What do you say Y/N?”

You leaned forward and held his face in both hands, locking your eyes on his, your lips just a whisper apart. “I say I love you very much.” 

You kissed him and it felt like coming home. Like resolution and heartbreak. Like coffee and biscuits and promises. It felt like only a moment, but you knew the two of you had lost yourselves in catching up on affection when you heard a knock at the door. You broke apart as it swung open, a giddy and slightly sticky Henry barreling through. 

“Y/N’s here! You should have come for ice cream.”

You laughed, pulling Henry in for a big hug. “Sorry I couldn’t make it kiddo, buuuuuut I bought you something.” You pick up the Lego set from the kitchen table and Henry’s eyes go wide. “I thought it was something we could do together. Your dad told you I work in an art gallery right?”

Henry nodded, a huge grin spread across his ruddy cheeks. “That’s so cool. The Legos and the art gallery…I think. What do you do at an art gallery?”

Henry was already pulling you to the living room to start building as you told him about your job. Ted was having a quiet conversation with Michelle at the door and you purposely tried not to listen in but couldn’t help but catch her saying, “tell her I’m sorry.”

Ted joined the Lego revelry in the living, quickly putting himself in charge of sorting while Henry built and you instructed. It was a smooth operation with lots of giggles and stories intermixed. You caught Ted’s eye as you put down the instruction, taking a break to bring something up. 

“You know, there’s an exhibit opening at the gallery tomorrow. It’s, uh, comic book art—maybe that’s something you’d be into?”

Henry was already bouncing. “Can we Dad? Me, you, and Y/N?”

“I think that’s a great idea, bud!”

“Don’t forget your mom, she might want to come too,” you added casually as you picked the instructions back up, but you didn’t miss Ted’s inquisitive look. But you meant what you said and when Henry readily agreed you smiled at Ted and he smiled back. 

“And then dinner with Uncle Beard?” 

“Yeah that’s a great plan kid,” you answered before building began again.

<- Part 1 | <- Part 2

[peakyoak]

This Dark Disposition: Chapter 21 - Family Meeting

Chapter 21 - Family Meeting

The next morning when Danielle woke up the sun was shining and the birds were chirping. She knew that there may not be another morning as beautiful and peaceful as this one until the spring, but she was okay with that. The memories of last night flooded her brain like the sunlight pouring through the curtains. 

She looked at Tommy’s sleeping face and took in the sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones in contrast to his soft peaceful looking closed eyes. She watched as the sunlight illuminated the freckles on his face and the tones of his brown hair. His skin was like art; a patch work of scars blended with his tattoos. Danielle laid her head back down and moved to snuggle in closer to the man in her bed. She was worried she was beginning to fall in love with him. Perhaps, she admitted to herself, she had already fallen for him. Maybe it was too late for her to save herself the heartbreak if they broke up.

“Tonight, when I get home from the Worcester races, our lives will be very different than they are now.” He rolled over and outlined Danielle’s face with his fingertips.

Danielle looked at him. Today must be the day that he’s moving in on Kimber. She felt nervous thinking about it, “Whatever you do, Tommy just promise me you’ll stay safe,” he leaned over to kiss her. 

“I want you there this morning,” Tommy said when he pulled away.

“At the races?” Danielle asked.

“No, at our family meeting.” 

Danielle shifted a little in bed, this was a risky move for Tommy to make, even with planning and thought. On top of her unease about the day, Danielle felt as though she finally had him back. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him now. Though they hadn’t outright spoken about it, Danielle knew that unofficially her and Thomas were now in a relationship, “Have you asked Polly about this?”

“Yes,” Tommy got up from the bed and started to get dressed, “She wants you to take her to see Ada this morning, before the meeting at half past ten.”

Danielle started to get dressed as well. When they were both dressed, Tommy came over to her and put his arms on her shoulders, “I know you never thought you’d be with a man like me,” he moved his arms up and down hers, “when I get back here tonight, I will have one of the biggest legal racetrack syndicates in the country.” He leaned down and kissed her check before he whispered in her ear, “we’ll be set.”

Danielle took a step forward into his arms. Her face fit perfectly against his chest, “I know you’ve worked hard for this,” she took a deep breath in, “come back to me safe, Tommy.” 

The Shelby House

Danielle walked through the front door of the Shelby residence and when she did so she saw Polly, standing over the first table in the gambling room, “Watch Thomas. I know how he is, but he does what he does, for us.” Polly continued her prayer by signing a cross on her chest, “I think… Amen,” she concluded. 

Polly turned around to see Danielle, “I used to do that every morning during the war.” Danielle’s expression softened as Polly continued, “I’d hoped I’d done it for the last time.”

“Tommy asked me to come to the meeting this morning,” Polly’s face broke out into a smile, “he said that he asked you first.” Polly was delighted and somewhat satisfied that Danielle would make sure she was okay with her coming, smart girl. 

“So you two finally talked,” Polly asked.

Danielle smiled, “something of the sorts.”

Polly walked towards her and gave her a hug, the joy she felt could not be expressed by her face alone. It was at this moment that Danielle felt their friendship extend towards a maternal relationship. Yes they would remain friends, but at the same time, Danielle looked up to Polly and admired her. Though she was so much different than her own mother, Polly felt like a guiding force in Danielle’s life; truthfully, her admiration for her had only grown these last months. 

“Oh I am so happy for you two- bloody finally,” Polly exclaimed. 

Danielle smiled, “but, if I’m going to be there, there is someone else who should be there as well.”

“Yes,” Polly said, stepping out of Danielle’s embrace, “we should go see her now.”

Ada’s Flat

The two women arrived at Ada’s door step. The basement suite was as dark and dingy as ever. Danielle approached the door and knocked, knowing that Ada may not appreciate the fact that she brought Pol with her, “Ada, it's me. And there is someone who would really like to talk to you.”

Ada opened the door and peered through. Karl was crying in the background, “I can’t get him to settle.” Ada was clearly exhausted. 

“Maybe I can help, dear,” Polly said, revealing herself from behind Danielle.

“She only wants to help,” Danielle explained, “Don’t you think it's time for amends; not because you need help, or because anything happened because of you, but because Polly and the boys are family. They’re your blood.”

Ada shifted in the doorway, Danielle could tell she was giving in, “come in,” she said. 

Ten minutes later Danielle had made everyone tea while Polly soothed the baby and Ada took a minute to relax on the couch, “You’re much better with him than I am,” Ada said. 

“He settles quicker with me because he can’t smell the milk,” Polly said as she laid the baby down in his basket, “Mine were terrors for the tit. Both of them.”

Danielle looked up from where she was pouring tea. She didn’t know Polly had children, “Well you never knew my children, did you?” Polly asked Ada. 

“I was a child myself then,” Ada looked at Karl and then back to Polly, “you never talk about them.”

Polly walked around the sofa and sat across from Ada. Danielle continued steeping the tea, “Never had reason to. My heart breaks even when I think about them,” Polly sat down on the couch, “But today I have reason too.”

Danielle brought the tray of tea over and sat it down on the coffee table. She could see that this conversation was going to be an emotional one so she sat beside Polly and put her hand on top of the older woman’s to help support her, “They were three and five years old. Sally was three, Micheal was five, well two weeks away from being six. It was Sunday morning, and while I was at church,” Polly stopped and took a breath, her eyes glistened with tears, “You are not forgiven. That’s what the pinch-faced bitch said to me - ‘you are not forgiven’. You see, some sheets I had hung on the line had the name of a hotel on them. They had been stolen in a robbery. And that woman told the police about the sheets, hung on the line, jealous you see, about the new sheets. And when the police came they found a spirit still, spinning a few drops of gin. And for that-,” Polly was cut off by her crying. 

Danielle moved closer to Polly on the couch and put her arm around her. Though Danielle always felt quite uncomfortable around emotional people she cared for Ada and for Polly. She didn’t like that there is nothing that she can do to help emotional people feel better. As a nurse, it is so much simpler to deal with physical wounds than emotional ones, “they took my children from me. They never told me where they took them. They took them because I was weak and because they could,” Polly wiped a tear from her cheek and Danielle wished she had a tissue to offer her. She felt horrible watching the woman she looked up to be so distraught, “But, they’ll never take your baby from you,” Polly looked at Ada and then at Danielle, “Do you know why?”

Ada shifted in her chair; Danielle thought that this story must be new to Ada as well, “Because Tommy wouldn’t let them. Because Tommy won’t let them walk all over us. Now it is Tommy who has brought strength and power to this family,” Danielle was starting to see where she was going with this, “Cause he knows: you have to be as bad as them in order to survive.” Ada looked away and then back at her aunt, “I’m telling you this, because I want you to forgive him.”

“How can I? When my Freddie is rotting away in jail.” Ada asked emotionally. 

Polly wiped a tear from her eye, her tone beginning to sound like her normal, confident self, “There is something about today you need to know.”

Family Meeting

Danielle walked into the gambling den with Polly as if nothing at all was off. She walked to the front of the hall and sat in a chair in front of Tommy. John pointed to her and said, “Eh, what’s going on here Tommy, I thought this was a family meeting.”

Polly interjected, “It is a family meeting, John.”

Arthur shifted in his chair and John took the toothpick out of his mouth. Danielle shifted her gaze away from them and towards Tommy who looked at her with his blue eyes, as he spoke he continued to maintain eye contact with her, “Miss Virtue and I are together.”

“Ah - the fuck” Arthur said, leaning forward in his chair, “you mean you haven’t been together this whole time?”

“It's official now, Arthur,” John said laughing as he leaned forward to pat his brother on the back, “I knew you had it in you Tom.”

He smiled before getting back to business, “settle down boys,” he started, “Right, I’ve brought you all here today, because today is the day that we replace Billy Kimber. This is the day we become respectable. The day we join the official National Association of Racecourse Bookmakers.” He held his cigarette up, “But, first we do the dirty work. We’ve all known this day’s been coming, I just haven’t told anyone the date.”

He turned to face the betting board, “We’re going to the Wecester races. The track opens at one, we’ll get there are two.” He turned back around, “Now Kimber thinks we’re going there to help him fight the Lee brothers. Now thanks to the efforts of our John and his lovely new wife Esme, the Lees are now our kin. I interrupted those efforts this morning and - I can assure you all, John is making great sacrifices for the cause of peace.”

The crowd in the room cackled and Danielle realized that for the Shelby family this wasn’t just about business, this was life. Family meetings, plannings, carrying out said plans, this was all the norm in this family because of Thomas. And, like Polly had said at Ada’s this was the norm because it brought the family influence, power, and wealth. She wondered how far Tommy would go to secure his family’s power. What limits does the man she loves have? Does he have any? Where is the line for him, the one between family and business? All Danielle knew was that he wouldn’t be content with Kimber’s assets for long. He would expand. Even if she did not yet know how. 

Tommy continued, “So it will be us and the Lees against Kimber’s boys. We take them out, but leave the bookies. I expect a swift victory that will send a signal all the way to London that we believe in letting legitimate businesses run peacefully.”

“And, uh, what about Kimber himself?” John asked.

“I’ll deal with Kimber,” Tommy replied, “any other questions.”

“Yes,” Polly said walking towards the back of the room, “does anybody object if I bring another newcomer into the meeting?” She opened the door that leads through to the kitchen and as Ada walked out with her baby, “I’d like to introduce the newest member of the Shelby clan.”

Arthur and Danielle clapped and soon the others caught on. Tommy smiled and looked up at Ada, “Welcome home, Ada.”

“We named him Karl, after Karl Marx.”

Arthur laughed, “Karl bloody Marx, let's have a look, let me get a look at him.” Ada passed Arthur the baby and he laughed as he talked to him and put his peaky cap on the infant’s head. Danielle enjoyed watching Arthur bounce his nephew in his lap as she watched the big bad blinder become a babbling, baby talking uncle. Would Tommy be that good with kids? Does he even want kids?

Danielle snapped out of her thoughts when Arthur raised the baby high in the air and said, “Hey look, he looks just like me,” Danielle laughed. Somehow Arthur had unintentionally made her feel less anxious. He had a canny way of doing so, “he’s a Shelby alright.”

Ada put her hand on Danielle’s shoulder. She was still sitting in the chair in front of Tommy. Danielle put her hand over Ada’s when Tommy asked, “Well, Ada? Am I forgiven?”

Danielle turned in her chair to make eye contact with Ada and then with Tommy, “If what aunt Polly says is true, then yeah, you are.”

Thomas nodded his head and then looked at Danielle and then at Ada, “It’s true,” he added. 

Ada breathed a sigh of relief and then rushed to hug Tommy. Danielle was happy that the grapple between Shelby siblings was over. While they hugged Danielle’s eyes found Polly, she stood from her chair and hugged the matriarch, “I’m so happy they’ve made up,” Danielle took a step back, “thank you, Polly, for allowing me to come and join the meeting so I could see it.”

“It was Thomas’ idea Danielle. I’m not sure what changed, but the man was adamant. Either way, I’m delighted to have you here of course,” Polly smiled, “And congratulations,” Polly said as she put her hand on Danielle’s shoulder, “you survived your first family meeting.”

Danielle smiled, she couldn’t help but feel the excitement in the air. Not only for the events that would follow later in the day, but for Ada, and for her relationship with Tommy. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right, and even though she was nervous about what the future may hold, Danielle knew that she made the right decision when she came to Birmingham.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Loss

Summary: Your husband had to learn a lesson. That he would have to sacrifice your marriage by losing a bet to August Walker seemed something he just accepted. That he would lose you to August in that process wasn’t something he expected. 

Pairing: August Walker x F!Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings: gonna tag this as dub con to be safe, also: soft August (yeah just as surprising to me as it is to you) smut (Oral; female receiving, protected sex), mentions of a miscarriage, infedelity 

A/N: It’s been a hot minute. I’ve had this idea a while ago, but only now had the motivation to finish it. Hope you enjoy this wiiiiiild August journey

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Looking at your husband you tried to make sense of the words that had just come out of his mouth. You had been thinking about divorcing him before. He just wasn’t the man you had fallen in love with all these years ago. You didn’t care for luxury. You wanted the man back that you fell in love with. The man who stayed up with you at night, watching the stars, reading to you until you fell asleep.

The man was long gone.

He changed once you had moved to the states. His suits got more and more expensive and the time he spends with you got less and less. His answer for everything seemed to be to throw money at it. You had a big collection of jewelry, shoes, art, you name it. But all you wanted was him. At least you used to until you found out just exactly how he made his money.

Selling weapons on the black market.

“You lost a bet. And you bet me? What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m not your whore, I’m your wife.” you shook your head.

“Look I need you to do this one thing for me and then I’ll give you everything you want, honey.” He said exhausted, not looking you in the eye. You sucked your bottom lip in, your body shaking with rage.

“You want me to fuck a man I’ve never met before? And you’re okay with it? Just like that?” You fought back the tears threatening to escape. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll make it up to you. Everything you want.” He said quietly. He would get you anything you wanted? Fine.

“Everything I want?” you asked to be sure.

“Everything.” he nodded, finally looking at you. Almost 15 years ago you had looked into his green eyes for the first time. You always thought these would be the eyes of the man you would grow old with. But now all you felt was a disappointment.

“Fine. One night with me for this Mr. Walker for everything I want from you.”

This was really happening. It was a week later, you were sitting in your bedroom, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your husband had instructed you to wear the sexiest lingerie you owned. Shaking your head you heard a knock at the door.

“You ready?” your husband asked. You looked at him in the mirror. Even now he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Don’t you feel the tiniest bit of guilt at whoring out your wife to some shady men you made business with?” you asked.

“I’m sorry…” he said quietly. Closing your eyes you got up from your seat, pulling the long silk robe you were wearing closer around your body. You wouldn’t be sleeping with the man. Not in a million years. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t gonna make your husband feel bad about it.

Stopping next to him you patted his chest.

“Maybe he knows how to make me cum,” you whispered against his ear before you walked out into the living room.

You always loved this house. It reminded you of your parent’s home. It was warm and you had spent so much time decorating it. Now, sitting on the sofa as your beloved husband welcomed the man he had practically sold you to, all you felt was cold. This hasn’t been a home for a long time.

Nursing the glass of champagne you ignored your surroundings, your mind trying to figure out when the last time was your husband had actually talked to you. When did it all go downhill? Even in the beginning when he started working with these shady people he had always made sure you were happy. You wanted to have a baby. That you were pregnant at some point but lost the child before the third month was something the two of you had never talked about after it happened. Only you and your therapist knew how much you mourned the loss of your unborn child.

“Mr. Walker, this is my wife,” you heard your husband say. Well... Showtime you joked to yourself, emptying the glass of champagne before you turned your head to look at the man who had entered the room.

“I know,” the man said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours. You knew him. He had been over a few times. You had never spoken to him, but sometimes it was like you could feel his eyes on you. He was tall, dark curls framing his face, but it was his eyes, that captured you. The light blue a contrast to the darkness that seemed to surround him. You didn’t get why he was wearing a mustache but somehow it seemed right.

“Mr. Walker,” you nodded and he held out his hand that you took, helping you up before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. He released your hand, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as you swallowed the knot that had formed in your throat.

“Pleasure,” he winked and you breathed in deep. His eyes didn’t leave your face and you had almost forgotten that you weren’t alone when your husband coughed behind you.

“Scotch, Mr. Walker?” he asked. August shook his head.

“No. I’m not here to drink.”

“Did you forget your whored me out already?” you asked, looking at your husband before you walked past both of the men towards your bedroom.

“Honey…” he warned. You shrugged.

“Come on, Mr. Walker. I think we wasted enough time already.” You said over your shoulder, not waiting as you made your way down the hallway.

You left the door open, your confidence shrinking the further you went into the bedroom. Sucking your bottom lip in you knew that you wouldn’t stand a chance if August Walker would want to have sex with you. A shiver ran over your body and you jumped as the door clicked close behind you.

Slowly you turned around, looking at the man that leaned at the door. You were about to open your mouth to ask him how on earth he would think about even suggesting something like this when he sighed.

“I’m not here to fuck you. I’m merely here so that your husband learns his lesson.” He pushed himself from the door walking to the sofa that was in front of the big window overlooking the ocean. You watched him, as he sat down, taking out his phone, and began to read.

Unsure on how to proceed you sat down on your bed with a loud sigh. He merely looked up at you, a small smile on his lips before he focused back on his phone. That gave you time to look at him.

You had noticed him before when he came by, always wearing the most expensive suits. He always seemed calm, spoke quietly which made him somehow more dangerous.

“Is this something you do often?” you asked, hugging your knees, making sure you were covered by the robe you were wearing. He looked up, one eyebrow raised.

“Teaching people lessons?” You added sarcastically.

“Only if they think they can make a fool out of me. Usually, my lesson involves a more… physical approach, but I didn’t want you to suffer through his recovery.” He set his phone down on the sofa next to him.

“Maybe you should pick something he loves more than me to teach a lesson then. Like his scotch.” You rolled your eyes.

“He loves you.” Mr. Walker said. You chuckled.

“Yeah. Clearly he does. Mr. Walker would you let any other man lay a hand on the woman you love?” you asked. He looked at you and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t name. Longing? Desperation?

“I would kill the man who even dared to suggest such thing.” He said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours. You ignored the shiver that ran down your back. “And please call me August.”

“Well then, August,” you had to smile a little. “How does this work? How long am I to be at your pretend mercy?”

“I do like to take my time when I’m with a beautiful woman. So make yourself comfortable.” He winked and you rolled your eyes.

“Pretty full of yourself, huh?”

“I never had any complaints,” he shrugged.

“Ever thought people had been too scared to actually complain?” You tried to hide your smile, as August chuckled, shaking his head before he got up and slowly took off his suit jacket.

“I’d like to think the women I fuck are too satisfied to complain.” He folded the jacket, letting it hang over the sofa.

“Well if that’s the case I envy these women…” you whispered. He still stood there, in all his wide-shouldered glory, looking at you. Slowly you sat yourself up, crossing your legs as you lean with your hands back on the bed, supporting your upper body.

“You have a loving husband, I’m sure there’s….”

“What is it that you do August? Why did my husband get involved with you? Why… Why is everything more important to him than I am?” You shook your head. “Nevermind, don’t answer that.” You let yourself fall back on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

Minutes went by before he spoke again.

“Do you still love him?” August asked. You turned your head, seeing him still standing next to the sofa.

“I am in love with the man he once was. But the man out there? The man who asked his wife to sleep with a man because he lost a bet in some gambling? How could I love him?”

“He does love you.”

“He certainly has a funny way of showing it.” You grumbled.

“What do you miss most? About him?” August asked. You turned to your side, not caring if your robe wasn’t covering you anymore. Somehow you felt safer with August, only knowing him for an hour or so, than with the man you were married to.

“The way he used to look at me. How we could spend all night talking. How we used to not leave the bed all weekend. I miss feeling safe in his arms when we used to dance with him humming a song in the moonlight…” you closed your eyes.

“That’s a lot you miss,” August said quietly. You heard him come closer and you opened your eyes as he knelt in front of you.

“I’ve been lonely for a long time. He may love me, but I don’t think he is still in love with me. And I’m not with him.” You felt his hand on top of yours then.

“Come on.” He pulled you up from the bed and you let him.

“What?” You asked confused.

“Dance with me.”

Slowly you let him guide you to the middle of your bedroom, his hand holding yours until he stopped. Shuddering you breathed out before you looked up at him. His thumb rubbed circles over the back of your hand and like you had done it a million times before your other hand curled in the back of his neck. He was so close. He closed his eyes at your touch, breathing in deep, before his other hand came to rest on your back, slowly pushing you against him, before he began to lead you into a slow dance.

His eyes opened just when you decided to rest your head on his shoulder. Your fingers played with the hair in his neck and you may have imagined it, but you felt him shiver. You breathed him in, feeling a little dizzy feeling someone so close again. He kissed the top of your head.

“I wanted you since the first time I saw you almost a year ago,” he whispered. “You didn’t even know I was there when you were outside in the garden. I think you were cutting some flowers, wearing a blue summer dress. I watched you instead of listening to your husband who was trying to sell me god knows what.” You closed your eyes, letting him talk.

“He doesn’t deserve you. Fuck I don’t think I deserve you. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and when he lost everything he had with him at the poker table I did the first thing that popped into my mind.”

You breathed in deep. Slowly his hand on your back had wandered lower, stopping just above the curve of your ass. You shivered.

“He told me I can get everything I want when I do this, you, for him.” You said quietly. “So to get what I want you to have to take what you want.” You looked up at him, seeing the storm in his eyes.

“How is the man that supposed to love me learn his lesson if he doesn’t suffer?”

“Don’t…” he growled.

“He thinks you’re fucking me, August,” you got on your tiptoes, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t you think he should hear how you fuck me too?” He released a breath, his hand finally running down, grabbing your ass as he pulled you even closer.

“I won’t be leaving his house without you afterward,” he said, making sure to look into your eyes.

“That’s good, cause I don’t want to stay here with him afterward.”

He closed his eyes, his hand releasing yours after he gently lay it down on his shoulder. He reached for your face, tilting your chin up before opening his eyes.

“How long?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“How long hasn’t he touched you?” August leaned down, kissing your forehead, your temple, your eyes.

“At least a year…” you breathed out, melting against him.

“Fuck…” he cursed before his lips crashed down on yours. His hand caressed your face, pulling you closer as you held on to him. You parted your lips, moaning when his tongue slipped into your mouth. He tasted dark and dangerous and you didn’t want to live without tasting him ever again.

He tugged on the belt holding your robe together, pushing it off your shoulder as your fingers slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned against your lips before his mouth wandered down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders when you finished unbuttoning it your hands pulled his head down to kiss his lips.

“I want you on the bed. Legs spread,” he whispered, his voice deep and you whimpered as you turned away from him, walking over to the bed to lay down. You watched him, as he opened his pants, pushing them down, getting his shoes off in the process. One of your hands ran down your body, slipping in between your legs. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this wet. Rubbing slow circles over your still clothed clit you bit your lip as you watched him come over.

“Show me how wet this pussy is for me,” he demanded hoarsely. You bit your lip as he knelt on the bed in front of you. Pushing your panties to the side you heard him groan.

“Fucking soaked. Touch yourself,” he grabbed your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg as you teased yourself, wanting nothing more than his mouth on you. You cried out, when he playfully bit the inside of your thigh, both of his hands parting your legs wider.

“Make him hear you,” he smirked before his tongue licked through your slit. You threw your head back, your hands grabbing the bedsheet beneath you. He nibbled and sucked, his tongue driving your sheer insane.

“There… Right there…” you grabbed his hair, grinding your hips against his mouth. You felt one of his hands ran up your body as he looked up at you, his lips sucking on your clit. He pushed two of his fingers into your mouth, you sucked hard and almost biting him. He chuckled against you, his fingers leaving your mouth only to bring them down to your pussy as he released your clit.

“You gonna cum for me?” His fingers lazily circled your clit before he slowly pushed them into you. You parted your lips, breathing loudly, trying to maintain eye contact until he angled his fingers.

“Fuck August,” you cried out, surprised by the wave of pleasure that shot through your body.

“There it is…” he grinned. You moaned when he focused on that spot inside of you.

“I need…” you began only to moan loudly when his tongue was back on your clit. Your eyes flew open, your hands grabbing his thick hair.

“I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, moaning loudly when your orgasm washed over you, your legs shaking, your thighs caging August in between your legs. He moaned against you, devouring you like you were his last meal, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm until it became too much and you whimpered, pushing him gently away.

“Fuck me…” you whimpered, trying to normalize your breathing.

“That’s the plan,” he teased, grinning down at you.

“Fuck you,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, that too.”

You shook your head with a smile. He kissed up your body, stopping at your bra.

“Let’s get you naked so I can fuck you.” You sat up, letting him take off your bra. He pushed you down into the mattress, kissing the valley of your boobs as his other hand slowly pushed your panties down.

“I want you inside of me,” you pulled at his hair, earning a moan from him. “And I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Careful what you ask for, princess.”

“I want to feel you every time I sit down in the next days. I won’t break…”

“At least not today,” he winked before he pushed his boxers down. You bit your lip as he stroked his cock. It was bigger than any you had before.

“Condom?” you asked. He nodded, jumping off the bed to get to his pants.

“So you weren’t planning on this happening, huh?” You raised your eyebrow as he walked over, pulling the condom over his cock.

“Wishful thinking.” He slapped your thigh, hard and you whimpered.

“You liked that huh?” He slapped you again. You moaned, turning on the bed to get on your hands and knees.

“Don’t be gentle,” you reminded him, wiggling your ass as you looked at him over your shoulder. His eyes seemed to darken as his hands landed on your hips, pulling you towards him as if you weighed nothing.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he said before he entered you in one hard thrust.

“FUCK!” you cried out loudly.

“Still sure you don’t want me to be gentle?” He asked close to your ear as he bends down, his teeth pulling at your earlobe.

“Do your worst,” you clenched your inner muscles making him curse. He slapped your ass, hard.

“You’re such a bad girl, princess. What am I gonna do with you?” He kissed down your back before he pulled out and entered you again. You didn’t get time to answer when he began to fuck you. Deep and hard, just how you liked it. His fingers would leave bruises on your hips from the way he held you and you would wear these marks with pride.

“Such a tight fucking pussy. I knew you’d be the death of me…” he groaned. You let yourself fall on your elbows, the change of angle making you see stars.

“Shit I want to cum inside of this pussy. Mark you from the inside so every fucking man on this planet knows your mine…” He slapped your ass and you whimpered his name. It never felt like that. Sex never felt that good…

“I’m yours. All yours…” you moaned, your head pressed into the mattress to lower your moans. You felt him pull at your hair.

“No. Let me hear you. Let him hear what he lost when he put his job in front of the woman he loves.” One of his arms pulled your upper body up against his chest, his hand holding one of your boob

s as he fucked into you.

“August…” you cried out.

“That’s it. Cum for me.” He thrust faster, holding you close and pulled at your nipple. Your orgasm took you by surprise, like a tidal wave spreading over your whole body and August fucked you through it following you only moments later, biting into your shoulder, marking you as his.

You stayed there, in his arms, his cock still deep inside of you, the only noise in the room your heavy breathing. He kissed your shoulder softly, his lips wandering up to your neck until you turned your head and he kissed you.

“You really wanna get out of here?” He asked.

“If you’ll have me?”

August was standing next to the two suitcases you had packed that contained only some clothes you would need. You made sure to wear a strapless top so your husband could see the marks August had left on you. Your wedding band and engagement ring lay on your side of the bed.

“Ready?” August asked quietly. He was standing at the door. You nodded, taking one last look before you opened the door. Your husband was sitting across the door at the wall, staring up at you as you stepped out.

“Everything I want?” You said. He nodded with a small relieved smile until August stepped out of the door and you made sure your husband saw that you weren’t wearing your wedding band when you took August’s hand.

You looked down at him, seeing his face fall. Once upon a time you had loved this man. But this was before he had willingly sold you. Before he had neglected you. Before he had ignored you.

“Everything I want,” you squeezed August’s hand as you looked at your husband, seeing him nod slowly. You took one suitcase and August the other, bigger one. You saw your husband’s eyes wander up your body, stopping at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“Everything you want,” your husband said with a sad expression.

“Consider your debt paid,” August said, before he squeezed your hand. You looked at him then, his eyes on you and you couldn’t help but smile.

You didn’t know that this would be the beginning of something you had been searching for all your life. A life with a man at your side who would always put you first. And who would let the whole world burn before any other man would have the chance to even think about touching what was his.

[jangofctts]

Bloodsport (din djarin x fem!reader) (part one) 

rated: 18+

word count: 5.4k

warnings: smut, knife kink (no blood is drawn and consent is clearly given), blowjobs, vaginal fingering, din is sorta a virg duDE, alcohol, mentions of violence (reader punches someone in the face kwejrkejh), some gambling (sabaac) also please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: oOf this is the first fic in sO LONG IM SO SORRY YALL KEHJRKEJH BUT ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY

It’s been a couple months since Din’s stepped foot on the sandy nightmare of a planet. Went through hell and back and kriff—it feels like a lifetime ago. But the landscape before him hasn’t changed an inch, Mos Eisley same as always—busy with all sorts of scum and villainy he turns a blind eye to. 

Din hopes it’s not the only thing that’s stayed the same—selfish as it is. Someone as volatile as you is bound to catalyze and shift, so is the nature of life. A lot can happen in a month or two and it’s ridiculous to think that you would ever push your life to the side and wait for him to return.    

Turns out, you are here, still working as the resident mechanic. Though in the same elated breath of hearing that tidbit of news, it’s equally dissatisfying when he somehow misses you completely. You’re off planet, looking for power converters and electrical wiring—back in few days Peli promises. Maybe by the time his wild goose chase is over, back from the butt fuck middle of nowhere, he’ll get to see you— 

Nothing goes as planned—naturally. All Din finds is a man playing dress up, an oversized lizard, planetary drama he’s forced to resolve and—to top it all off—an attempted stickup. Maker—he’s not even worried about anything save for the kid and your speeder. The very same one now scattered over the sand in miserable heaps.           

At least some of it is salvageable…

By the time Din reaches the outskirts of Mos Eisley, the binary suns are smearing across the horizon like molten puddles of magma. Deep aches amass in his shoulders and back from the weight of the speeder parts, his gear, and the second pair of armor. Maker—it feels like his arms are going to be ripped off.

The baby babbles something incomprehensible. 

“Almost there, kid,” Din responds, sparing a quick glance down the baby. “How does soup sound?”

Instead of trudging back to the hangar, Din wanders to the cantina. Call it a hunch or just you and your aunt’s tendency to lurk around the premises, he’s certain he’s going to find one of you here. 

Din is right.

The moment he steps inside, he spots your mess of hair, the low solar lights illuminating the rich colors with a soft orange. The baby coos and blinks up at Din, his tiny clawed finger gesturing in your direction. 

Din hums. “Good job—you found her.” 

The child’s little teeth peek out, pleased with his discovery. Din steps into the doorway, down the carven stairs and over to your table. A older man—a ship rigger by the looks of his uniform—sits across from you, a game of Sabaac spread across the table between you. You’re winning. 

“Hello, Shiny.” You greet, dipping your chin in his direction. “Your armor is looking a tad ripe.” 

It’s true. The layer of slime coating his armor had baked and crusted under the suns—probably doesn’t smell too good either… 

“I killed a Krayt dragon.” Din states it with a twinge of smug satisfaction despite knowing how little something like that would mean to you. He could conquer three dozen planets and shower you in all the precious metals in the world and you’d still turn your nose up at everything.  

“And I curb stomped a centipede today—you aren’t special.” Your eyes never leave the set of worn cards you hold between your fingers, acutely ignoring him like you would an overly enthusiastic puppy. You inhale and scrape your right thumbnail along the edge of the hexagonal cardstock—it’s a subtle tell, one Din would more than likely miss if he were the unlucky bastard brave enough to sit at the other end of the table.  

“You playin’ or what?” Your opponent gripes. He scratches his unkempt salt and pepper stubble and quirks a furry brow. 

You lift your chin in scorned defiance and lay your hand down—full Sabaac. The man hisses through his crooked, clenched teeth and utters a curse as he shoves his winnings towards your end of the table.  

“Peli promised me information.” Din pushes, hearing the kid coo in curiosity as you begin shuffling the cards with practiced flare. “About others like me.”

“Do I look like my aunt to you?” You grumble. It’s the first time your eyes leave the perimeter of the game to look at him. They settle on the kid first with a guarded version of compassion, then leap to the faded green armor clipped to the heavy luggage, and then his visor. Your lip twitches at the green slime still coating the beskar. “I’m assuming my speeder didn’t make it.”

“A technical difficulty.”

You roll your eyes and snort, dealing out the cards then setting the stack in the middle. “Right…”

The background ambiance of the bar and the quiet rasp of cards fill the brief lull in conversation. Any other rational person would take the blaring hint to leave, but Din is just as stubborn as you are. 

“I don’t remember where the hangar is,” Din lies, cocking his head to the side in mock innocence, “could you show me?” 

The tip of your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth. The unconscious tic is not one of irritation—not yet. Though before you’re able to respond, your opponent beats you to it. 

“Yeah—I know where it is. It’s between fuck off and take a hike.”  

Din turns his head, the cool, even tone of his words sharper than shrapnel as he address the man. “I was speaking to her.”        

This is funny to you Din realizes—one of the tiny mysteries of your entirety clicking into the place of the puzzle map he’s conjured for you. 

“Well, I don’t have the time of day for cowards who wear shiny buckets over their head.” The man gripes into his drink, dark eyes flicking over to Din as he sizes him up. “What’s a Mandalorian doing out here anyway? Thought your planet exploded or something.”

The man’s ignorance irks him—sure. How could it not? But with years of harsh words and jabs at the foundation of Din’s very being, he’s learned to adapt. It’ll always sting no matter how many layers of beskar he wears but you on the other hand…

Your eyes spark, molten and bright like the last solar flare on the surface of a decaying star. Each encounter Din’s had with you, he’s bared witness to the deep well of your anger that fuels your being like the auto-mechanical heart of a droid. He’s felt the bite of your rage firsthand, but this anger—this is the tragedy of the delicate mayfly wings trapped between the black teeth of misfortune—the story of the boy who rammed a spear into the flank of an ancient beast that bites before it barks and gnashes its yellowed teeth in warning.

Din’s hand inches towards his blaster. He’s not willing to weigh the safety of the kid against your rash decisions, despite it being on his behalf.   

Though, just as quick as it appears, it recedes like the cool drawback of a tumultuous ocean. Din’s arm relaxes at his side as you release a puff of air. 

Your scuffed up fingers, stained with years of engine grease, scars and dirt, curl around your half finished drink. You stand, lay your cards face down onto the table and flash the stranger a feral grin.

Without a word, you toss your drink directly into the man’s unsuspecting eyes. In another breath, the pointed edges of your knuckles fly forward and hook beneath the point of his chin with a meaty thunk. The man’s head whips backwards and connects with the gravely wall—

Out like a light.  

Jaw clenched tight, you shake out your bleeding knuckles and gather up the strewn credits over the table. You shove them into the pockets of your jacket and side eye Din. “Restitutions for damages,” you mutter. 

The other patrons keep their eyes to themselves as the three of you hurry out the door. Only an apathetic glance from the bar tender serves as proof that something did, in fact, occur. No one wants to dirty their nose sniffing about where they shouldn’t be when they have their own business to safeguard.

The crisp night air rustles the stray strands of hair that escape from your ponytail. Ghostly moonlight carves the shape of your cheeks into an almost ethereal sight—one of those deep space creatures with pointy teeth and hellfire for eyes. Stuff of legends you’d never think to look in a dingy bar for.     

But he knows—Din knows that cool mask is just a front from what you hide. It is a hungry ghost that hounds your thin stretched shadow—what ifs and the glories of war you never really escaped. You forget that you are flesh and blood and ghosts are only air and echoes, nothing more. 

Din is sharp edged steel. A stray fragment of a shattered mirror, the lacerated reflection of a nameless purpose and a faceless existence. He’s torn edges and cracked glass but his heart beats within his chest with the blood of a thousand suns. Two souls under the umbrella of the word damaged but entirely different in nature.     

“No one—“ you growl, your voice a steady and lethal timbre that terrifies a part of Din’s unconsciousness, “—speaks that way to my friends.”��

Touching. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Creature,” you huff, staring down at the child who gurgles in return. “He deserved it—“

The reunion certainly wasn’t the one Din imagined, though it’s a relief to find that there’s no roughened edge like sandpaper over skin wedged between you. Picked up right where you left off—no questions asked and no inglorious retelling of how Din nearly died on the floor of a shitty cantina. There’s not a doubt in his mind that you'd laugh at him for it—it is sorta funny…   

The rest of the evening is spent walking back to the hangar, arguing over the fact that yes Din should take the couch instead of that miserable little hovel he calls a bed, and spend the night. He’d have to find some other mechanic to work through the night if he wanted to leave in the morning, because you certainly did not want to volunteer for that. And so—Din reluctantly takes the couch and agrees to let you tackle the monstrosity of fixing up his ship for tomorrow. 

He has to admit…the couch is a bit smaller than the length of his body, but it’s comfortable…maybe he’d buy a better blanket while he was here. As a treat.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

You purse your lips and whistle. “I swear each time I see it, it gets worse. Y’know, I know a couple guys selling—“ 

“Can you fix it?”

You fold your arms over your chest and roll your eyes.“Yeah I can fix it, jeez—no need to get your undies in a twist.” 

You try not to take offense, because hey—you’re offering him the info on the good deals on new ships (and at this point anything would be better than this old rust bucket). But if Din doesn’t want anything to do with that, then whatever. His loss.   

When you wander onto the ship, toolbox in hand, the Mandalorian tags along. Unsure if he doesn’t trust you with his things or just wants to hang out, it blankets the space with an air of uncertainty. Turns out it was neither of those guesses. All he does is throw open his stash of weapons, collect his pile of vibroknives, and set them on a table to polish and sharpen. 

Makes sense, you suppose. Everything has to be as shiny as his armor. 

You drop to your knees near the closest wiring panel you find. You wrench open the paneling and frown at the disarray of sparking wires and tangled cords. You organized these perfectly last time he was here. “Who the fuck junked up my rigging?”

Mando sits at the little table tucked away in the corner, brooding over his cache of weapons. He shrugs. “Could’ve come loose when I landed.” 

You roll your eyes at his half assed excuse and mutter a foul string of curses under your breath that’d make even Peli wince. It’s fine. It’s cool—no biggie. You can sort through this in a couple hours, maybe three. 

But of course rarely anything goes as planned. As time ticks away, arms deep in wires older than the kriffing Clone Wars, the distractions begin. The scrape of metal on durasteel makes the hair rise into little pricks all up your arms—you shoot a glare over your shoulder. Din tilts his head, your kneeling self reflecting within the ever dark visor, features scrunched into an obvious tell of annoyance. Huffing, you bury your head back into your task at hand. 

The second distraction arrives in the form of a quiet hum of curiosity originating from the Mandalorian. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bring a vibroblade up to his visor, inspecting the notch in the blade that disrupts the electrical current that flows through the weapon. Din then rubs his thumb over the handle of the vibroblade in a slow, sensual circle. You lick your lips and tear your eyes away. That shouldn’t be hot.

You furrow your brows and tear apart another wire, but the metallic tap, tap, tap of Din bouncing the tip of a different blade over the table is bothersome. You swing your head to your left, mouth parting to snap at him, but his hand—sans glove—brings you to a halting stop. 

It’s alluring, the way his long, weathered fingers twirl the knife with practiced ease—like silk through water and followed by the low hum of electricity meant to slice through flesh. Din tosses it in the air, watching it spin three rotations then catches it by the handle. Your lips purse when his visor meets your eyes. He spins it between his fingers.  

“Am I bothering you?”

Fucker.   

You scowl. “It’s fine.” 

The soft rasp of his thumb sliding along the flat of the blade entices the eye and damnit—he’s doing this on purpose. 

“Doesn’t seem fine,” he hums. 

“Well, it is.” You retort hotly. You snatch up your pliers and imagine you’re pulling his teeth out in place of the crooked paneling. “I’m currently thriving in my element.”  

Din hums, the sound buzzing with grainy distortion. “Do you want a closer look?”

You chew your bottom lip. He’s playing with an open flame and you with volatile jet fuel. 

“I don’t know, seems kinda lame from here.” You scoff, busying yourself by pinching and twisting another set of frayed wires between your fingertips. “A toothpick if anything.”

Din snorts behind you. The deadly whisper of beskar against the durasteel tabletop makes the hair on the back of your neck prick into points. You tense as heavy boots shuffle along the floor, the near silent rustle of armor tinkling behind you as Din steps closer. You’re slow to stand, even though the presence of the Mandalorian is no less than overbearing. You wipe your grimy hands onto a spare rag, continuing to face the paneling. You then turn, a coy smile threatening to break across your face. 

Stars Din is broad—and close enough you swear you’re able to see the perspiration of your breath fog the beskar plating. Your eyes follow the seams of the cuirass, across the leather bandolier and up to his helmet that’s fixed in an impassive glare of tempered steel. Your back bumps into the wall as Din takes another step forward, boxing you in. To escape you’d need to duck under his arm and yet…you refuse to move.   

Your breath catches as he languidly lifts his hand and taps the flat side of the vibroblade over your collarbone. The sharpened point tickles up the column of your throat, a crackle of nerves and your pounding pulse following in its wake. Din turns the blade to flat edge and pushes into the space right below your jaw—you squirm when he chuckles, the sound low and deep. 

“You like this…”

Din grunts as your hand reaches between his legs, squeezing the growing hardness there. “So do you.” 

Din circles his hand around your wrist with his free palm. Moons above his hands are warm. He murmurs your name—you shiver. “Tell me you want this—want me.”

A blush, hotter than the surface of Tatooine in the midday sun, rushes up your neck and pools into the apples of your cheeks. Maker you want him. With a shuddering sigh you nod—braving the scathing shrapnel of vulnerability. “I need you, Din—please.”

A low chuckle rumbles through Din’s chest. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please before.”

Din drops his hold on your wrist as you roll your eyes. “Shut up, Bucket Head.”

The Mandalorian snorts and dips his head—gesturing towards the blade still lightly pressed against the base of your throat. “This ok too, Skitter?”

You flash him a wolfish grin. “Gonna fuck me with it?”

Din swears under his breath, crowding his body closer to yours. You hear his strained sigh as he dips his head closer, the beskar a chilly whisper against your cheek. “You’re depraved…take off your pants.”

You smirk, tear off your belt and shimmy out of your pants and underwear, bottom half now bare. His visor dips, entranced.  

Your heart leaps into your throat, your pulse roaring in your ears as he settles one of his bare hands over the swell of your hip while the other trails the blunt edge of the handle from your clothes collarbone, and down your belly. From your mid thigh he skates the handle up your bare thigh and then rests it over the crack of your thigh. Heat flushes through your entire body, a stark contrast to the cool metal of the handle. A shiver races down each vertebrae when he drags it over the swell of your cunt and then carefully pressing it against your clit. You gasp and arch into the light touch, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he increases the pressure. It’s cold, rigid and filthy. Who knows where that knife has been—how many lives it’s taken or severed through muscle and skin. 

You don’t find it in you to care all that much.    

He trades his hold on your hip to slide his hand into your shirt, palming and kneading your breast through your bra as you roll and whine against his fingers. The tight circles he's drawing over your clit burns through your abdomen, drags you closer to the precipice that you’re all ready so close to. Fuck—it’s been so long since you’ve indulged in this sort of pleasure.You whine his name as wicked heat licking up your body and spreading to each limb. You arch into him, the handle of his knife slipping through your folds as arousal drips from your cunt.   

Your groan as you tilt your hips into the handle, craving any lick of pleasure he’ll give. Your breath hitches as Din pushes the hilt closer to your throwing entrance, murmuring praise as he sinks the first couple inches inside of you. It’s cold—the knobby feel of the handle not too much thicker than one or two of your fingers combines. You huff and grab at his cowl, the warmth of his hand grazing your pussy each time he rocks his wrist forward. 

“You’re so quiet,” Din goads, pulling the handle free from your aching center. “You usually have plenty to say.” 

You shoot Din a glare, tongue weighed down by arousal to come up with a god retort. You lean your head back against the wall of the Crest and with a chuckle, Din’s hand leaves your shirt to pull you against his chest, the vocoder rumbling against your ear. The blade clatters to the floor and instead brings his calloused fingertips to your cunt. He softly rolls your swollen clit between his forefinger and thumb, delighting in the way you shake. “Be a good little thing and cum for me.”

Shit, you didn’t think it’d be that easy. Your body seizes as white hot heat ripples through your core. Stars, brighter than a dying sun burst behind your eyes, a high pitched cry filtering past your lips as shake and fall apart in his arms, your cunt clenching tight around the thick fingers he slips inside of you. 

You whine as he pulls out, little aftershocks of pleasure wracking through your body in wake of your euphoric high. You groan as he lifts your head and pushes his digits, coated in your juices into your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting the tang of your own arousal and the salt on his skin. “Fuck—that was good.”

You can only imagine that Din rolls his eyes. He takes a step back but before he can escape—

You drop to your knees, a wicked smile curling over your lips. The muscles in his thighs jump as your palms smooth over the outsides of them, then up to his narrow hips, your thumbs lightly massaging the ligaments that protects the fragile joints. Din sucks in a sharp breath when your fingertips hook around his trousers. 

“What are you doing?” Din asks, brushing a thumb over your jaw. 

You pause and glance up at him. You quirk a brow. “Was gonna suck you off, but if you have something else in mind…“ He hisses and tips his head back, flashing the underside of his chin as your hand leaves his hip to cup the heavy bulge tenting in his trousers. 

“Maker—“ He looks off to the side, inhales a choppy breath and then snaps his head back. “You’d…you’d do that?”   

You nod and flash him an encouraging half grin. “Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

Din mumbles an incoherent string of words under his breath and shifts his weight onto his right leg. His fingers touch your cheek again then tuck a loose hair behind your ear. “But—“

Moons above this man is straight out of some kind of fucking fairytale��arguing about getting his dick sucked—or not. 

Whatever.       

“Din…” His breath hitches at the sound of his name. “I’m asking you kindly to fuck my mouth—it’s cool if you don’t wanna, but my knees already kriffing hurt and—“

He cuts you off with a hasty nod. “Yes—stars, please.”

Fuck yeah.

You smile and slide your eyes past Din’s legs to the cargo crate shoved up against the wall. “You should sit—easier that way.”

He nods and shuffles over, lightly perching himself on the edge and ready to flee at the barest hint of well—anything.

Din’s knee jumps when you place your palm over it. You assume his nerves are from the nature of his occupation—trouble always strikes when you least expect it—and what better time would that be when his pants are around his ankles. “Relax—I’m not gonna bite—maybe.”

He makes a wary sound low in his throat as your fingertips hook into the waistband of his trousers and pull. Din lifts up as you tug the fabric further down his legs, tan skin and solid muscle following in its wake. Fuck…

You swallow, mouth feeling quite dry when your eyes drift between his legs. Din is thick, a rosy brown color, flushed at the tip and curling towards his bellybutton. Beads of liquid shine at the tip, dribbling down the underside and pooling into the dark patch of curls at the base. Din’s fingers hook over the side of the crate, squirming under the weight of your stare. 

Yeah—that’s gonna leave your jaw aching.    

You hear his breath hitch, magnified by the crackle of the vocoder as your lips descend over a silvery scar on the inside of his right knee. You pepper a trail of wet kisses and light nips up his thighs, and by the time you reach the crease of his leg, his hips mindlessly rock with need. 

The second the wet warmth of your tongue brushes over the tip of his cock, his hips jolt off the crate, a load groan echoing through the empty ship. It’s like striking a match to an open line of kerosene—devouring and explosive that’ll leave your delicate skin singed. You’re not nervous playing with fire if this barest scrap of wild heat is anything like burning to a crisp. 

Emboldened by his initial reaction, you wrap your hand around the base, pulsing and achingly hard beneath the velvety flesh. You flatten your tongue over the tip, lapping up the sticky liquid the slip the head of him into your mouth. His hands fly to your hair, tightening into fists as he throws his head back. The beskar scrapes over the durasteel with a sharp squeal, but you don’t find it in you to care about the abrasive sound—eardrums be damned.  

“Fuck—kriffing hell—“ Din snarls, arching his hips to seek more of your warmth. “K-keep going.”  

Your own rekindled arousal blazes hot in your core hearing his stuttered pleas. You pull away to catch your breath, feeling almost guilty for doing so at Din’s low whine of protest. He picks his head up, watching as you languidly jerk him off—entranced with the way your hand rolls over the leaking tip, back down to the base, then up again. You could keep him like this—tease until he cracks under the pressure and begs you for whatever iota of pleasure you want to give but—

You’re not that mean.    

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you part your mouth and slide nearly half of his length into your mouth. Din mutters something garbled, his hips jolting as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head.

Din shifts, arching his back and stuttering out broken whispers of encouragement. Placing your hand over his thigh, you can feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips, wild and alive—something real beneath all that heavy armor and unforgiving helmet. 

“You—you look…” He grunts as you hum around around his cock, swallowing him down further. “Shit—you look so p-perfect like this.”

You groan and squeeze your thighs together, attempting to ignore the gnawing hunger snapping at your insides. 

Rolling your tongue along the underside of his shaft, your fingers slide over what your mouth cant reach—squeezing and gently coaxing him towards his high. He seizes up tight—yet, just when you think you’ve got him skidding off that precarious edge—

His hand fists your hair at the base your neck and yanks you off his cock. He huffs, breathy little pants as he folds into himself like he’s been punched in the gut, his head rolling forward onto his shoulder. Din shivers as he scrambles for control, beginning to loose that slippery foothold he’s so intent on maintaining. His cock, flushed an angry red and still slick with your saliva, twitches and throbs for the release so cruelly wrenched away. 

You let him catch his breath. The fingers tangled in your hair go lax and drop away to rest at his sides. You swallow, his previous skittishness suddenly clicking into place. “Din, are you…?” A virgin. Your question tapers off, unsure if it’ll embarrass and scare him off. 

“No,” he answers—not in a sharp way like you’d hear with a bruised ego—just stating a fact. “Just not—not this. Never had someone—stars—“

Your teeth roll your bottom lip between them, forcing your face to remain neutral despite the stroke of pride blooming singing in your chest. You’re his first—lucky enough to make this the best goddamned oral he’ll ever have. Something he’ll remember for years.  

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, praying to the Maker he’ll say no. 

He shakes his head, sucking in another calming breath and unfurling himself. His fingers clench into fists then relax, crackling with pent up energy and unsure nerves as to where he should put them. You solve it by threading your fingers through his and placing them around you head. 

Your lips quirk. “You’re allowed to cum in mouth—don’t worry about it.”

His cock twitches as a quiet moan fizzles through the modulator. “You su-sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

With a smile you bring your mouth back to his cock, tongue swiping up the entire length of him. Din groans as the soft warmth of your mouth slips over the flushed tip of cock, his thick length twitching as you hollow out your cheeks and suck. You bob your head as you slowly work him in further because even like this, hardly halfway into your mouth, you feel your lips stretching a bit too much around him. You groan and part your mouth wider, letting him sink into the soft warmth of your throat.  Din inhales, the sound shaky and unsure as his hips twitch with a few tentative thrusts. 

You take it slow—lifting your mouth nearly all the up to the tip then back down to the base. Din rolls his hips, helping you ease into the gentle pace. Saliva drips down his cock and over your knuckles making an absolute mess you have zero intentions of cleaning up. It’s his ship after all. Din swears as his hips stutter, your hand squeeing around him, trying to push him off that edge he so deserves. Din gasps your name, the pitch of his words knocking up to a lighter, more airy tone, warmer than melted butter. 

“Ca-can’t believe, it—ah—it fits.” He groans with astonished reverence. You preen under his praise. 

You swallow around him and grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you let him rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans. 

You can feel is cock twitching over you tongue—he’s close—and when your eyes roll up to meet the darkened visor, he’s gone. He shouts your name and knots his fists around your hair as he spirals of that edge. You nearly gag from the force of his release hitting the back of your throat—cock throbbing and jerking in your mouth like he’s been denying himself release for months. His moans, fragile and gasping, filling the quiet space as his hips grind his cock deeper down your throat, his hands threaded into your hair acting as an anchor—the sole tether he has to the waking world. 

Din’s grip relents as the last few catastrophic waves tear through his body. He doesn’t move his hands, just lets them rest over your skull  as his chest heaves for precious air, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. You pull his still twitching cock halfway out, dragging the tip of your tongue below the frenulum while one of your hands circles the base of his length. Maker—he’s still going—

Last little dribbles of his cum spurt onto your tongue and drip over your knuckles still securely wrapped around him. His legs and lower abdomen flex when your hand falls lower to carefully knead at his balls, milking out his pleasure for all its worth. You let his softening cock slip from your mouth when he swears and mumbles your name.      

When you rest your back against the wall, he slips himself back into his trousers and joins you. You take a risk and rest your head over the chilly beskar pauldron. You’d never call this love—the word is much too harsh for this delicate string of seconds. Love means giving pieces of yourself to others like martyrs give their hearts to the sky—or risk fragile skin against the rays of an unforgiving sun. Broken ribs and clenched fists, immensity beyond comprehension—

“You should come with us,” he says with a hesitant mumble. Love is formidable—but you know that somehow, here, pressed against Din’s side, that this is right. In a golden way, a honeyed way, a path that tastes of blood, freedom and blaster smoke that will leave your lungs stained with blackened soot. Cowardice has long made a home inside of your soul, and he’s offering you a chance to shake off the layer of frost clinging to your bones and step into the gentle merciful dawn.  

“Yeah—alright, Din. I will.”

tags (only tagging some moots for now bc i have no clue what’s going on in this fandom anymore dbdndn): @goldafterglow @jango-fettish @djxrxn @blsmjoon @spookoofins @krissology @steeeeeeeviebb @teaofpeach @comphersjost @gummiishark @delusionsxfgrandeur @pettyprocrastination @huliabitch

[saphirered]

Hopefully, this is not too vague... I was wondering if you could do fluff with Molly; his nickname for the reader is 'princess'. (I have had a rough couple weeks, found out some bad news regarding my dad's health, and am just wanting a little pick-me-up. You are literally my favorite writer of the lavender tiefling trio.)

A load of fluff with some hinted spice coming right up. Sorry about your dad, sweetie and hope things take a more positive turn. Either way, I hope this is the pick-me-up you're looking for. 😘

-

You’re no stranger to waking up alone but never does it stop you from reaching out to the spot next to you. When you’re not met with a soft groan or arms wrapping around you, pulling you close begging for another five minutes of peace you know your lavender tiefling has begun his day before you. Rolling over onto your back you stretch taking in a deep breath. Time to get ready for the day, maybe find some breakfast? Breakfast sounds nice.

Mollymauk walks down the beaten path, a skip in his step and a small bouquet of wild roses clasped in his hand. He’s been up and about for a good hour now and like the good carney he is he’s working on quite the show in his mind; a show that requires the aid of a pretty face, charming smile and honeyed words he alone cannot provide. No he needs assistance and if he plans on getting this assistance he better work for it. Okay, maybe it’s not his plan. Maybe this is all just the result of a major fuck up on his end but still, it will make for some good fun… if all goes well… and you agree… The fact he gets to pamper you is a huge bonus. It’s been a while since he’s gotten the chance to show you just how much you mean to him.

Could Molly just ask for your help? Of course he could. And would you agree to join him on this endeavour? How could you refuse that devilishly handsome man? But where’s the fun in that. Let’s keep things interesting. Raise the stakes a little bit and see where his charm will get him. Or perhaps more, see how long it takes you to catch on tp the mess he made and pray to the Moonweaver you’ll be merciful. A test of his charm perhaps? Whatever excuse best justifies his actions and desires to spoil you rotten.

Stretching your arms with one final yawn you leave your tent. It’s too early to be up but you best keep an eye on your tiefling before he gets himself thrown into jail and you have to break him out… again. Wandering the camp the other members of the Fletching and Moondrop Carnival of Curiosities are waking up and going about their morning business at their own paces. You search for Molly but when you don’t find him you take to the road, following it towards the town. If he’s caused any trouble there you’d find out soon enough.

A lovely melody reaches Molly’s ears. He knows exactly who it belongs to and hears you before he sees you. All he needs to do is follow your song. Curving over the elevation of the path he spots you, lost in thought. Smile on his face he approaches you, flowers behind his back, and joins in whistling along to the melody. The way your eyes light up at the realisation of his presence are enough to make his heart melt knowing that one creature could look upon him with such unconditional love.

“Good morning, your royal highness.” Mollymauk takes a bow befitting of greeting royalty if not a little exaggerated and offers you the flowers. While he tries to keep his gaze on the ground you catch him peaking for your response as you take the flowers from his grasp breathing in their scent.

“Good morning to you too. And thank you, I should say? What’s the occasion?” You ask, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth but you can’t help feel a little suspicious at Molly’s very deliberate theatrics.

“Can a most loyal servant not present his beloved princess with flowers?” Molly rises and you get the slightest flash of fang from the smile he offers you.

“You know I am never one to deny your gifts and gestures of affection. What I’m referring to are your apparent needs for theatrics.” You speak with eloquence feeling yourself slipping into the same act he’s putting on. Dammit Mollymauk, for playing into your actor side and letting you slip up into the role he’s setting you up for. You know damn well he’s aware of what he’s doing.

“I am merely your humble servant. A humble servant with impeccable manners.” You snort as Molly offers you his arm. You lace yours through his and he begins leading you back the way you came.

“Impeccable manners you say? Because I recall not but two nights ago copious amounts of drinks, illegal gambling and theft were involved. And let’s not even mention the… desecration of the fountain within the gaze of the Platinum Dragon’s statue.”

“You say that as if those of noble birth do not partake in such activities, princess.” Molly counters. Touché. As you’re about to take a step to the right fork of the road Molly gently pulls you into the left direction instead. Confused you give him another suspicious look but he hushes you leading you down the path.

You find yourself retreating within your thoughts trying to pinpoint whatever shenanigans Molly is up to, planning or has been up to and why the need to be secretive instead of just telling you. Molly couldn’t hope for a better moment for you to stop your interrogation for he fears any more prodding around for answers and he will spill the beans and come clean. He can’t hide a single thing from you when you’re determined and he knows it.

The path slowly turns from trodden earth to more fine sand until it fades into the beach. The sound of waves and a seagull or two make for a pleasant setting. You see just far enough away from the shoreline as to not become victim to the tides, is a basket set on top of a blanket. Molly leads you over, guides you to sit upon the blanket gracefully before plopping down himself with much less show. Within the basket you spot several packed goods. Molly takes a few out and sets them down upon the blanket, unwrapping them as he goes. Some bread, a selection of fine jams, some cheese and delicious sugary sweet pastries.

“Okay, time to drop the act. While I appreciate all this, what did you do and how bad is it?” Molly takes out a bottle of what looks like expensive champagne along with two glasses and pours them, handing one to you.

“What makes you say that?” Molly takes a sip playing it cool and innocent.

“The top shelf bottle of champagne that is very much above our collective pay grades. Where did you even get this?” You take a sip. It’s not bad but not the greatest you’ve ever had either. A weird taste that can only be suitable for some upscale party or the nobility passes out to their guests to impress them simply because of the associated name and or price tag. What can you say? Rich people.

Molly hesitates but drops the innocent act. Best he comes clean now. You’ve caught on fully. Game over. But that definitely doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this delicious breakfast with him, can you? Mollymauk takes a slice of the fresh bread, adding a nice layer of strawberry jam and takes a bite. At least the expensive jam was worth the money. Then again, it wasn’t his money that paid for it. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t money well spent.

“Now, I need you to promise me one thing first, love. Promise me you’ll let me tell you the whole thing before you judge my poor decision making.”

“I can do that.” You lean back and relax taking one of the pastries and taking a bite. Bearclaws with cinnamon? Delicious. Let’s hope for Molly’s sake it will keep your judgement somewhat at bay.

“When we were doing our usual rounds and you were off on your own I may or may not have let it slip to someone who happens to be part of the local nobility, several someones to be more precise, that you may or may not be a princess in hiding. And I may or may not have played a little bit too deeply into the story…”

“Okay, that’s not actually that bad?” Just wait for the second part. It gets worse. On second thought. He may be regretting telling you and not just convincing you to hide away for the next few days in town until you’re back on the road.

“And these poor suckers may have fact checked it finding some evidence of a princess from another continent who supposedly is traveling in disguise. They came to see the show and I want you to remember they left a most generous donation along with an invitation for you to attend a ball held in your honour.” Molly awaits your response as you stop mid bite.

“So they left an invitation for a princess? What about it? Just don’t show up and done.”

“That would work if the local lord did not gently hinted at exposing said princess and sending the guards to return them to their family as they ran away and the good favour of either side of that royal family should greatly benefit this town. I’m sorry, princess but your presence has been demanded.”

Okay… This is bad. You do not feel like being hunted by the guards and it’s not like you can make an inconspicuous escape now people might look at you as royalty. You set down the pastry clasp your hands together closing your eyes. You inhale and exhale deeply as Molly briefly fears for his life.

“You… really need to learn to hold that tongue of yours, Molly. It’s getting you in all sorts of trouble.” He bites back a comment about using that tongue of his for plenty of other good things. He’s having trouble reading where you stand on this all and doesn’t know wether you’re upset with him or disappointed or if he has to be the one running for his life soon.

“Let’s talk to Orna and get some appropriate dress for the occasion ready and wearable even if that means she’ll have to sew us into our garments.” You sigh.

“Us?” He questions and he does not like the mischievous look on your face. Whatever you’re plotting, he hopes you have mercy on his soul.

“Oh, I will not be attending on my own. No, a princess does not go anywhere without their loyal servant. A princess needs their escort to attend to their every whim.” You hold your chin high as you move to sitting on your knees pushing your palm flush against his chest exercising a little pressure to push him to lean back onto his elbows.

“Every whim you say?” Molly asks with a devilish grin as you swing one leg over him gently keeping him in place with your body and wrapping your arms around his neck playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. Maybe the turnout isn’t so bad.

“‘Every whim you say, princess’.” You correct mimicking his grin and leaning in closer. Molly goes to close the distance but you raise your index finger to his chin. “Ah-ah.”

“May I not kiss you now, ‘princess’?” He mocks and you give him a stern look.

“It’s unbecoming of a mere servant to make such a bold move.” You pull on his hair when Molly tries to land a kiss on your cheek rather enjoying the turn of events this morning.

“Yet you appear to be the one in full control.”

“He knows his place. Good boy.” You praise with a pat to his cheek and you guide his face to yours, your lips meeting in a deep kiss, the food forgotten. Molly’s hands dance over from your hips to your lower back pulling you closer to him. You earn an unsatisfied grumble when you pull away a moment too soon.

“Must you torture me so with your touch, princess?” Molly laughs fully aware what direction this is going, raising a hand to caress your cheek fondly.

“Will you finally learn how to behave?” You trace the peacock feathers curving up the side of his neck and jaw. You don’t get a verbal reply but instead Molly’s lips find their way to your neck leaving a trail of kisses and little bites as he goes enough to make you giggle and squeal in surprise whenever he finds just the right spot, taking your mind far away from the details of the fuck up that lead you here in the first place. Not that you mind anymore. If this is the treatment you get for being dragged into one of Mollymauk’s lies gone south you’ll gladly take it a thousand times over.

[kim-monsterlings]

Vin - M Orc x F Human (Reader) // NSFW Monster Match

Monster match for the lovely @teenagezombiekryptonite​​ <3 I couldn’t tag you!

Matches will be under the read more!

Content: NSFW/Lemon; mutual pining, friends to lovers, use of endearment “sweetheart”, intimate embraces (cuddling, thigh touching), slight possessiveness, teasing, flirting, kissing, lingerie on reader, light choking, teasing, nipple play, marking (love-bites, tusks), fingering, slight praise kink, penetrative sex (no mention of protection or explicit release), clitoral play

Masterlist // Monster Match Info + Masterlist // My Ko-Fi

Headcanon

Not for the first time today had you wished for company beyond the orc settled patiently outside your changing room. The morning had passed with such ease - ever comfortable with Vin, supported by a touch as simple as his chest to your shoulder - until finding yourself staring at your reflection, otherwise alone.

Days ahead of the annual camping trip often passed with a familiar cluster of friends. Breezing from shop to shop - buying gear and planning itineraries, usually you would fall into waiting arms after a long day, not begin with him.

It was harder this year, accompanied only by the orc gently rapping his knuckles to your fitting room door.

Everyone else was busy. Clashing plans promising a ruined summer, and your heart had sunk. "No camping trip?"

"We could go." Quietly so not to call attention to the disappointment rising to your face, Vin squeezed your hand, crinkles rising at the corners of dark eyes. "Just the two of us, hey?"

You wanted it more than anything, hesitating only at the twisting of your stomach - had he offered to appease your pain?

When he lifted your chin to whisper, "I'll even let you choose the music," you agreed. He wanted you there as much as you wanted to be with him, though the day of shopping had slipped your mind.

You opened the door for him, looking at your reflection. "What do you think?"

"Give me a spin, sweetheart."

The soft hem to the short dress spun before he drew you into his broad chest, so close he embraced you with all the warmth you would soon be sharing a tent with.

"Look at you," he breathed. "Do you like it?"

You loved it.

"Do you?"

"You make it beautiful."

Windows rolled low - cool wind tangling your hair and bringing the piercing through his tusk to clink - your music warmed the car, his smile lifting at your soft singing. Halfway as you found yourself tiring, his hand fell to your thigh, an exchanged smile easing your slight nerves.

Friends preoccupied at home teased you before leaving.

Some gambled that before the return journey, over a crackling fire or near sleep, either one of you would confess your feelings for the other. You chose the faded pages of your diary to turn to rather than fuelling their bets.

How it happened, though, seemed more an accident.

Cuddling together came in a natural progression, resting on the thin bedding, whispering, "it helps me to sleep." Hugging your old bunny tight to your chest eased your racing thoughts, until Vin pressed himself close, arm extended.

"Maybe I could help, too?"

Vin stroked over the curls formed of a day driving through wind, and with all the courage in your chest - clinging to hope and remembering how he cared for you, you pressed a soft kiss to the hair of his chest.

Only after your friends hinted towards him returning your crush did you recognise it.

How when you turned to your front beneath midday sunlight, he rested close, applying your sunscreen without you needing to ask. In the passing presence of hikers, Vin's heavy hand curled into your upper thigh.

You turned your cheek on your arms, though your teasing faltered. The way he kneeled close, hovering as though to remain as near as he could, tugged at your heart.

"I think you've covered my legs."

His dark lips fell to let free some excuse, sure to brush off your remark, until he found you smiling and yet to turn from his softening touch.

You were left breathless when his tusks dragged against your throat, guiding your thick hair away.

"Let's stay longer."

The same hopes shared in secret between you and your diary the night before lifted your head. "Really? With me?"

Vin grinned, stroking his hand against your back when you turned to meet his soft lips. "Really."

Drabble

Since returning from the first holiday taken as a couple - turned from several nights into almost a fortnight, and one you were both reluctant to end, you rarely shopped alone. The warmth of his approval coaxed you into easy decisions, and buying a riskier outfit had your nerves high.

Vin adored you in brighter clothes; he wore black enough for both of you.

To pass him with nothing more than a kiss after never sharing your plans to spend the day shopping was a tease, worsened by the ruffling of tissue paper set atop the bag. Had he sought to peek inside, he would've found it empty.

The delicate lace clung to the curve of your hips and chest beneath a dress he loved.

Late evening, you turned into his embrace, warming at the gentle run of his palm over your rear with a light squeeze.

"Tonight, you choose the film. Let me guess..."

"If you don't want horror," you interceded, though he already hushed you with a soft kiss, film set up ahead of your decision.

Despite banning anything horror on your first camping trip - "we aren't watching a horror film alone in the woods, sweetheart," - he never objected on your evenings. Rather than disappoint you, he distracted himself.

In less than twenty minutes, his straying touches brushed lace, and you tucked yourself closer. "New today. I bought them for you."

Only distantly, you registered him ending the film. The hand easing around the column of your neck and pressing you into the soft cushions became your only focus, fixated by him rising over you.

"Dress off, please."

Little more than a growl of pleasure turned against your collarbones when you revealed darker lingerie. So little of your body was left to the imagination, decorated with slinky lace beckoning him closer.

He adored you in pink.

He ruined you in black.

Rounding over your thigh, Vin stroked where your body burned beneath elegant lace. He held you down with little strain as you arched beneath him, your body throbbing from fabric pressed to your slick folds. He whispered his love and devotion as he sucked on your sensitive skin, taking your nipple between his lips through the thin bralette.

Tusks traced the slope of your chest when thick fingers eased into you. "My pretty girl."

"So-" your voice trembled, his thumb lifting to run against your flushing clit when you lifted into his hand. "You like them?"

"So much," he hummed, guiding his fingertips to your tight walls, "that I'll take you in them."

Fabric tugged against your trembling thigh, Vin stroked himself before easing his thick head against you. He waited until you keened before flexing his hand - a gentle reminder as you fell back with a moan.

"Lay still. You're taking me so, so well, sweetheart. Feels so good."

He angled his hips down and your thighs clenched around him. Your gasp silenced against his hot kiss, only able to whisper, "I need you."

"Let me take care of my girl. Tell me," he murmured, running the rougher pad of his thumb over your flitting pulse. "Who's my girl?"

With his wide hips pressed to yours, tusks marking flushing patterns over your chest and tongue tracing burning kisses not far behind, you rocked up, desperate for him.

"I'm yours."

[shai-manahan]

raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly

with Wesley please? 🥺 💕

I didn't think this would get so long lmao

Some parts would probably be confusing (I'm not sure), because this would be set after the entirety of the story, but I do hope you'll enjoy reading!

Wesley - 43. raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly

Memory is such a funny thing.

How many years has it been again? It's not really a question you still have to ask--you've always counted the days in your head--but it astounds you that after all this time, after the past few years of gambling with life and death, of all the suffering, one night inside this dining room is what it takes for the warmth to come. It's not the kind of warmth that can provide your body the respite it needs from a harsh cold night, nor the kind that once provided shelter and comfort to its occupants. That one's gone. Gone with the whirlwind that once ran through these people's lives.

In truth, Wesley's old house has never felt colder. Musty. Dry. All that remains is the worn interior full of dust and rats, the once magnificent decors starting to fall apart. A ghost of the past.

But those little glimpses of memories that go through your mind...

You were never one for poetics, but you'd dare say they were tailored around you like a blanket, bringing life unto the forsaken place. Protecting you from the unwanted ones.

"Won't you take a seat?" Wesley's words pierce through the silence as their right hand grips your left with little hesitation. Normally, you would have lashed out at the sudden touch, at the sudden invasion, but you're learning to rein it in. At least when the two of you are alone.

"I'm fine here."

"Are you?" You can hear the doubt growing in their voice. "If you were standing in front of anywhere other than a clogged window, I might have believed that."

"Maybe I am admiring the clogged window."

"No." Their fingers slowly trail up your arm, and your skin prickles at the contact. There's nothing seductive with the way they're doing it. Only softness. Concern. "Talk to me."

You heave an exasperated sigh. Right. Talk. That's something you were supposed to do now. You did promise you were going to be better at it. Or at least try to. "He taught me to avoid looking around me... you know, if I'm not sure what I'd see."

"Who?"

"You know who."

"Ah." They clicked their tongue. They never liked him. Nobody did. "Didn't he also tell you to kill people you don't trust?"

"He survived it," you snap. "He's been dealing with it far longer but he survived it."

"At what cost?" They step in front of you, their utterly frustrated face blocking your sight. "He's been doing that because he thinks he's better off alone. But you're...you're not alone. You have people around you. You have me."

You look away.

"Hey, come on." Wesley's hold lowers to your hand again. Their grip is tight, desperate. Yet there's comfort within it that calms the tension building up inside you. "You haven't been like this for a while. What happened?"

No one else would ever understand. Remember that.

"This place happened," you say before you get the temptation to deflect again. To lie. "I know you said you needed to check out some parts of the house, but if I look around and see something that's not..." You clear your throat. "There are too many good memories here. I want them to stay that way."

They won't understand.

His words reverberate in your head like a mantra, and you begin to think it was not a senseless reminder. That even with all the things you've gone through, even with all the years you spent with Wesley chasing after the truth, they would never understand. Because you're different.

They won't understand.

"It's all right." You turn to them at their words, wondering if you'd heard them right. Before you could confirm, however, they raise your hand and begin rubbing it with both of their own. With such care. With such affection. Then they lean forward, the intensity in their hazel eyes growing as they speak. "It's all over now. We have time. You'll adapt to it in your own way, and I'll be there to help. I'll stay. We'll figure it out together. No matter what."

"I'm not-"

"Shh." Wesley brings your raised hand against their lips, kissing it softly. "Like I said, we have time."

You're not sure if it was the conviction in their gaze, or the hope that manifests inside you to get rid of an ever-growing problem, or the urge to just look at anything else, but you turn around. You turn around and let yourself marvel at the sight of the entire room, bracing for the images and the shadows that don't belong there.

There's none. There's only the remnants of your past--the memories you made with the person beside you.

Memories of awkwardly eating a scheduled dinner with the family, the only child of the household throwing you a knowing smile even though you had never met before; memories of you two planning mischiefs--that would eventually turn into a calling--whenever their parents weren't around; Memories of a promise, of affection, of reconciled betrayals. Of love.

So many.

"Are you okay? Is there..."

"I'm fine." It's not a lie this time, though heat still rises to your cheeks at a sudden realization. They kissed your hand. Wesley kissed your hand. You shouldn't be surprised--you are dating now, after all--but you still are. They can be dumbfoundingly hesitant most of the time, but at moments like this, at very random moments like this, they end up casually doing similar gestures out of the blue, as if it's something they do everyday.

"I'm fine."

You're not. Not with your heart hammering loudly in your chest. But that's the problem they don't have to hear about. Not yet.

There's still some rummaging around to do.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Flower: Zabuza x OC fem reader

!This fic is 18+!

Warnings: Swearing, big ole meanie Gato, mentions of abuse towards OC, petnames, kidnapping, mentions of beatings, unwanted touch (not by Zabuza), virginity loss, mentions of blood, breading kink, zero protection, big softy Zabs, basically porn with a plot

Word count: 3,300

Remaining silent, Hana looked down as she was dragged in chains into a large room. The room was dimly lite with wall lights, the floor was cold below her bare feet. She was dressed in basically a sheet after she was stripped of her clothes.

She knew of her fathers gambling debt with a underground drug dealer, Gato, however he assured her and her mother that it was taken care of.

Unfortunately, “taken care of" meant it came in the form of repayment with Hana's life. At 19, she was dragged from her mother, screaming as her father was ferociously beat within an inch of his life.

That’s all she remembers from that day, a mere 3 weeks ago. The look of despair in her mother’s face as she was dragged from her home, never to see her family again.

Now she stood, next to Gato as he prepared to bargain for her life.

He had informed her that she would be used as payment to a Ninja from the land of the Waves. She was expected to serve him however he desired.

Looking down, she stood next to Gato as he talked with the large, stoic man sitting on a throne.

“What is this" the large man replies looking at Hana’s small meek form as Gato smiled widely, pushing Hana forward towards the man.

“Oh this? This is part of your payment. Consider it a gift from me to you" Gato smiled smugly as the large man stood at attention.

Walking down towards Hana, she continued to look at the ground as she was too afraid to meet the eyes of the large, built man.

He gently lifted her chin up to meet his eyes as her looked into her gorgeous light golden eyes.

She was stunning. Long chestnut hair flowed freely to her back. She had a small, beautiful face and a gorgeous lush body. She was a site to behold to the rough looking demon of the mist.

“She is pure, yes?” the man said, still looking down at Hana’s beautiful face.

“As pure as snow Zabuza” Gato said smugly as he watched the man observed Hana's face more intently.

He could tell she had been beat by Gato and his men. The look of fear in her eyes told him she had seen her fair share of horrors.

He could see the tears forming in her eyes as he gently wiped them away. That one act of kindness was more than she had been shown in her weeks of capture with Gato.

“Haku" Zabuza shouted as a young, beautiful boy approached from the shadows.

“Yes Zabuza" he said softly as he observed Hana.

“Take this girl to my room” he instructed as Haku bowed to the man and walked up to the young lady.

Looking back to the floor, she followed the young boy to a large room deeper in the cavern. On one side, a large bed sat while on the other, a bath and changing area.

“He won’t hurt you" Haku said as she nodded slightly making his exit.

Sitting on the bed, Hana waits. She isn’t sure what she is waiting for but she knows the large man will come soon. She just hoped whatever he had planned wouldn’t hurt.

The door opens slowly as Hana stand, looking once again at the floor.

Zabuza looks at Hana as he approaches her. She looks up at him slowly, noticing his face covered with a wrap, and his eyes boring holes into her head.

He had a beautiful face, at least from what she could see. His hair was dark as night and his body built like a stone statue.

He stares at her for a few minutes, as if she is an illusion, one that will disappear if he blinks.

“You will stay with me" he says harshly as he looks down at her small form.

“o-ok" she squeaks out softly as the man watches her intently.

“Call me Zabuza” he says looking at you “what is your name pretty one?”

He lifts her chin softly as he stares directly into her eyes.

The name made her heart flutter as she looked to him.

“Hana" she said softly as he maintained eye contact with the large man.

“You will be safe with me my flower. Nobody will harm you" he says as he turns, walking out of the room as she sank to the bed.

She wasn’t 100% sure of the large man but for some reason, she trusted him.

The weeks go by as Hana adjusts to her new life as Zabuza's servant. He treats her kindly as she goes about tending to his every need.

She spends her days preparing meals and tending to cleaning. He doesn’t pay much mind to her as he rarely acknowledges her, preferring to remain silent in her presence.

She rarely sees the stoic man and only hears him when he is instructing Haku and his followers in combat training.

He is very loud and harsh to his men. He doesn’t hold back on their training. He knows what they need to do to be strong. He pushes them to their limits in order for them to get better fighters.

However, his strong attitude doesn’t extend to Hana. He treats her as his flower, precious and fragile. He sleeps with her nightly but has yet to touch her. His desire to claim her is primal, however he despite his rough appearance, he’s nervous to scare her.

He watches her from afar as she picks flowers and harvests vegetables. She looks so angelic in his eyes. He’s sworn his life to protect her. He doesn’t know why he feels this attachment to her but whatever the reason, he will not waiver from his path of being her guardian.

The weeks pass as Hana finds herself growing accustomed to her new life. She enjoys the freedoms Zabuza has given her. She spends most of her free time in the flower fields, picking and gathering flowers.

The flowers remind Hana of her life with her mother and father. Her parents owned a small floral stand that she would help tend in the summer and fall. She loved the smell of the fresh flowers on a warm , sunny afternoon. Nothing beat the feeling of the being surrounded by pure beauty.

One afternoon, she retreats the fields to finish making her floral crown she had been working on. She enjoyed the fresh scent of the flowers as she hummed happily, unaware of prying eyes upon her body.

“What a gorgeous creature sitting out here all alone" a voice sounds from behind her as she startles suddenly.

She stares at the two men watching her intently as she weaves flowers into her crown.

Feeling frightened, she stands up, gathering her items as she begins to retreat from the two men.

“Where are you going Angel" one of the men says grabbing onto Hana's arm harshly.

Wincing, Hana stares up to the man as she tries to pull her arm away.

“I have to go now, my-" she says before she is cut off.

“Why are you leaving so soon sweetheart? We just want to have a little fun. Maybe get to know you a little more?” the other man chimes in as they both grip her arms tightly as her eyes well up with tears. They pull her towards them as she drops her basket, trying to fight her way from the men’s hold.

“Tell us sweetheart” the one man chuckles “are you pure?”

She gulps harshly as she struggles to speak, afraid of what the men might do to her.

Tears fall from her eyes as she cries, hoping this nightmare will end quickly. She prays to whatever God’s will hear her that someone will come to her rescue.

“Let her go" a voice says from behind her as she continues to cry, thankful for her savior.

“Zabuza" one of the men says as they both push her away from them, causing her to crash go the ground.

Zabuza approaches quickly as he picks her up quickly. Grabbing onto him, she nuzzles her face into his hardened chest as her tears continue to fall.

Zabuza stares at the men as he rubs her shoulder softly. Never once breaking eye contact with the men, he asks her “Did these thugs hurt you my flower?”

Nodding fiercely, she pushed her head further into his strong figure.

Zabuza is furious at the thugs for hurting his precious flower. For soiling her with their filthy hands. Gripping her tightly and laying a soft kiss upon the top of her head, he summons Haku. Haku appears out of nowhere as he approaches them swiftly.

“Take Hana to my room" he said harshly as Haku grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Zabuza.

Walking back to the home, you heard screams sounding from the forest where she had left Zabuza and the men. Haku holds your hand tighter as he consoles you on your walk back to the home.

Guiding her to the room, Haku left Hana alone as he returned to Zabuza. He assured her that no further harm would come to her as she nodded softly.

She sat for what felt like hours waiting for the man to return. The door opened slowly as his gaze met hers. She stood from the bed as he walked swiftly towards her, grabbing her small waist and pulling her into him.

Leaning down, he laid a swift harsh kiss upon her soft lips as she hummed into his mouth. She reached her arms around his neck as he groped her soft waist.

He deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue into her small mouth as he groaned against her body. She was so small in his arms but she felt so good. She allowed him to easily dominate the kiss as she ached for more.

Pulling back, he lifted his arm to caress her soft cheek. She smiled softly as she leaned into his large hand.

“No one will harm you ever again my flower" he says as he holds her close to his large body, shielding her from any danger.

It was the first time in her life that she felt truly safe and secure. The first time since she had been forced away from her mother that she felt true love.

After the field incident, Zabuza restricted Hana's movements in order to protect her. He accompanied her everywhere she went and kept her within his grasp.

He kept a tight grasp on her waist or thigh as he sat next to her. He held her nightly as they slept. He had yet to take her purity and she was anxious. She was ready to give it to the man she had come to care deeply for.

Taking a bath in the room, Hana emerged from the warm water. She wrapped a light robe around her naked body as she untied her hair and began to lightly brush through the strands.

The door opened as she set her brush down and turned to see the face of her lover. He crossed the room in two strides as he grabbed her waist, pulling her into him swiftly.

He kissed her as her hands roamed up his shoulders to his neck. He pulled her in harder as he began to feel his erection growing in his pants as they kissed. His tongue danced on her lips as he asked for entrance to which she graciously granted.

Pulling away softly, he looked at her, placing his forehead on hers.

“I need you flower” he said softly as Hana pulled back from the large man. She turned around as she loosened the strings of her robe. She knew it was time.

Zabuza looked at Hana as she dropped the floral robe from her body revealing a perfect naked form below. She stood, with her back facing him as his eyes drank in her gorgeous nude body. Her ass was so plush and supple. Her thighs so lush and full. She was perfection to him.

He could feel his pants tighten as she looked over her shoulder toward the tall, strong warrior. She knew exactly what she wanted.

He slowly approached her as she turned her head to look forward and catch her breath. She was nervous to say the least but she was ready. She was ready to be claimed by the demon of the mist.

He reached for her soft skin as he touched her lightly. He was almost afraid she wasn’t real, that the imagine in front of him was a mirage on a hot summer day. That is mind was playing tricks on him.

Touching her shoulder lightly, he traced her upper back as she covered her breast and soaking cunt with her bare hands.

“Don’t be shy pretty one" he whispered as he kissed her shoulders, grabbing her hips as his hands trailed to massage her firm, lush ass.

She moaned as he growled in her ear, his lips tracing her skin as she kept her eyes forward, focusing solely on the pleasure radiating from behind her.

“You are so pure my love" he whispers as he bites softly into her neck, causing her to throw her head back in bliss as she moans loudly “tell me, my love, tell me you want me to take your virtue. Tell me you want me to be the only man to ever have you.”

She moans as she nods frantically. His grip tightens on her hip and his hand begins to snake down to her soaking wet core.

“Tell me pretty one. Tell me who owns you" he says as she moans, feeling his hand right above your hardened clit.

“You Zabuza, it’s always been you" she chokes out as he smiles into the crook of her neck as she rolls her head to the side.

“Let me make you feel good pretty one" he smirks as he places his large, rough finger on her hardened bud and begins to rub slowly.

She has never felt such pleasure. The sensation is so new, so different. She begins to feel a weird knot form in her stomach as she moans loudly.

Lost in bliss, her head falls back to his chest as she can feel his hardened cock straining against his pants.

He rubs small, quick circles on her clit as she moans his name louder and louder with each asking minute.

“Zabuza, it feels so good" she cries as her mouth falls open with pleasure.

He smiles as he bites down on her neck, rubbing faster as she feels her core tighten, aching for release.

“come for me pretty one, let go" he says softly into her ear as she nods frantically chasing her release. She has never felt this amazing.

She feels her breath hitching as her legs shake slightly from the overwhelming feeling of her orgasm ripping thought her fiercely.

Removing his hand from her clit, he grabs her hips as he lightly grinds his hardened member into her soft ass. He growls possessively in her ear as she feels his large member growing harder more

“turn around my love" he says sweetly as she turns to face him.

His breath stops as he gazes at the gorgeous sight before him. Her body is so perfect. Her breasts full and cunt soaking. He swears he must be in paradise.

Walling slowly up to him, Hana pushes him back to the bed as she slowly gets to her knees.

“My pretty one" he says as he brushes her hair from her face as she smiles up at him.

She grabs his pants, slowly pulling them down as he leans back on the bed.

His large hardened member springs free as she gasps at its size. She is unsure of how it will even fit in her small body.

He chuckles at your reaction as you blush “don’t worry pretty one, I won’t go too hard on you"

She smiles softly as she licks her palm and gently place it on his hardened cock. He groans as she moves her small hand up and down his cock, watching him as he groans. His groans making her cunt spasm and clench with anticipation as she thinks about his cock sinking deep inside of her.

He watches her as she continues to stroke him gently. He can see her squirming, waiting to be fucked senseless by him.

He smiles as he grips her small arm, pulling her up towards him as he lays her down on the bed.

Kissing her neck softly, he trails his lips down to her hardened nipples as he lightly sucks them.

Meanwhile, she fists his hair as he groans, rubbing his cock on the bed as he gets closer and closer to her heated core.

Looking up at her, he adjusts to put one hand beside her head as he rubs his cock between her wet folds.

Groaning as he feels her wetness seep onto his tip, he lines up with her soaking entrance as he slowly pushes into her tight cavern.

He groans as she cry lightly, tears falling from her eyes as you feel the pressure and tightness of his massive cock. She feels the sweet stretch of her cunt molding to his large cock. The feeling is new and overwhelming. It feels like she’s being ripped in half.

“you are doing so well pretty one, I’m almost in my love" he says groaning as he pushes himself past her maiden barrier and deep into her wet cunt. He kisses her tears away as he gives her a moment to adjust to his large size. He places his other hand firmly on her hip as be looks down at her beautiful figure.

“so beautiful, so wet" he growls as he slowly pulls out, pushing back in “and all mine!”

He slowly thrusts into her as the pain begins to fade and pleasure overtakes. His cock is so big, he fills her up to the fullest.

“Oh fuck Zabuza-" she moan as she arches her back, helping him to reach her magical spot. The feeling is unreal as her stomach begins to tighten with that familiar feeling.

Quickening his pace, he fucks her faster as he growls into your neck. She can barely speak. All the emerges is tiny squeaks and moans from the sheer amount of pleasure radiating from their bodies.

“Fuck pretty one, I’m going to claim this cunt. Fill it up with my seed. Make you mine" he growls as his pace picks up faster as she sobs holding onto her release.

“Fuck, please breed me Zabuza. Please I want to come so badly" she cries as he looks down at her with a growl.

“You want me to put a baby in your belly pretty one. You want to be the mother of the demon of the mists offspring" he growls as he rams into her harder and faster. His mind clouded an a lust filled haze as he thinks about impregnating his gorgeous flower.

“Yes Zabuza please, please give it to me" she screams as the cord in her stomach finally snaps and her cunt squeezes his cock deliciously.

“Oh fuck, Hana I’m going to come-" he groans as he presses his pelvis hard into her making her scream from the pressure. She can feel the ropes of cum spurting into her fertile womb as her mind begins to clear.

Breathing heavily and looking down at her he sees her soft, beautiful smile as he kisses her deeply.

“Be my wife Hana" he says as he budges her nose softly as he kisses down her jaw.  Smiling widely, she nods as he lays his forehead against hers.

Pulling out of her, she winces at the pain as he sees his member covered in her maiden blood.

Proud of his accomplishments, he pulls her closer to him as he kisses her on the forehead.

“Rest my flower" he says as he covers her, helping her drift softly to sleep.

taglist: @axoxtxhxh​

[beelsbaby]

Fate or Chance | Mammon

Chapter Nine: So do we have a deal?

Summary: You flip Mammon’s world upside down when he soon comes to terms that he likes you, but he has a pretty big obstacle in the way— your feelings for another. Can he win your heart or will he lose his chance?

Hey everyone! I’m sorry for the absence, I had finals all week last week and they have me doing this training session for work it’s been so busy but I’m finally able to have some me time so I’ve been working on the next three chapters of fate or chance and I’m really happy with this chapter🤗 it’s a little risqué at the end but nothing nsfw, it’s actually really cute I hope you guys like it!🧡

Also I just saw the Demon Slayer movie over the weekend and I am HURT😞

Previous | Next

 “Thank you Mammon, I really needed this.” You sigh happily.

  “Wanna talk about it? I’m here to listen to ya.” Mammon asks. You have half a mind to vent to him, but you decide to just enjoy the moment.

  “No, just a hectic week, what movie do you want to watch?” You ask Mammon.

  “Tch, I told you, it’s your pick.” 

  “Let’s watch my favorite movie from the human world! It’s about a girl who’s getting married but she wants her father to be there except there are three possible candidates since her mom was with them around the same time, so she invites them all!” You squeal. Mammon chuckles, then shakes his head, “Sounds like a nightmare.” 

  “But it’s also a musical! I promise it’s really good.” You say. 

  “I’ll watch whatever ya want to watch, I’m sure if ya like it, it’s a good movie.” He tells you.

  You rush to put the movie on as Mammon sets down the food in front of you both. As the movie begins, you both begin to eat the food in comfortable silence. You look over at Mammon, who seemed to be following along with the movie. You smile, happy he’s here with you.

  “Ya starin’ doll.”

  You blush profusely, “N-no, I was just making sure you were following along!”

  “I am, so far. That place looks nice, where is it?” Mammon asks.

  “Greece, it’s a beautiful country!” You tell him.

  “Ah, that’s where the Hades and Persephone story comes from, right?” 

  You blink up at him. How the hell does he know about Hades and Persephone?

  “Oh, you know about their story?”

  Mammon nods carefully, afraid of your reaction. What if you think he’s a total loser? 

  “That’s so cool! I think mythology is fascinating.” You smile at him. Mammon gulps, you’re going to kill him. 

  “Have you been to Greece, Y/n?” Mammon asks you. 

  “No, I haven't.” You answer, turning back to the movie.

  “Would you like to go?”

  “More than anything.”

  Mammon pauses, “Would you like to go with me?”

  You think for a moment before turning back to him, “I would really like that, Mammoney.”

  “R-really? You’d go with me?” Mammon asks you.

  You nod, “Yeah, I think it’d be pretty fun! I’d even let you gamble a bit.”

  “Y-you would?” Mammon stares at you in wonder. Everyone hated his gambling habits, but here you are, excepting them.

  “Yeah, maybe once or twice. Thrice if you’re on your best behavior.” You giggle. 

  “Ouch, Y/n, ya breaking my heart. I’m always on my best behavior.” Mammon smirks at you. 

  You continue to laugh, “You’re a fucking menace.”

  Mammon clutches his chest, pretending to be heartbroken. You laugh as you slightly shove him, causing him to laugh along with you. You can’t help but think how nice this is. You haven’t hung out with Mammon in a long time. You missed this. You missed him.

  “So we have a deal? You and me, Greece, end of this semester?” 

  You look at him, you feel tears starting to form. You put your food to your side and you leap onto Mammon, hugging him tightly. Mammon catches you in time, securing you on his lap with his hands on your waist. 

  “Y-y/n!” Mammon cries out in surprise. He feels like he’s going to pass out, your scent is intoxicating him. If you don’t move soon, he doubts he’ll find his self-control. 

  You let go of Mammon so he could see your face, “You have yourself a deal, Mammoney!”

  You have tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, but even like this, Mammon thinks you’re the most ethereal piece of beauty he’s ever seen. He takes his hands off your waist and places his hands on your cheeks. Mammon gently wipes off your tears but his hands linger on your face, “My Persephone.” He whispers to you.

  You blush, "If I'm Persephone, who does that make you?"  

  “Your Hades, if you allow me.” He tells you, slowly leaning closer to you as if he’s asking for permission. You gaze into his eyes, they look so loving and sincere. Before you know it, you start leaning closer to him until you feel his soft lips on yours. Mammon kisses you gently but passionately as if he’s been waiting his entire existence for this exact moment. He pulls you closer, the softness of your skin making him never wanting to let go of you. He places his hands back onto your waist, leaning his head onto the crook of your neck inhaling the scent of your shampoo, it’s driving him crazy. He places gentle kisses on your neck, right below your ear.

  “Mammon.” You sigh.

  “It’s alright, Y/n. I won’t go any further.” Mammon tells you.

  “But… I want to keep kissing you.” You whisper to him as you pout.

  “Well, I never said we had to stop kissin’ doll” Mammon grins as he leans down to give your a peck on the lips.

  You and Mammon stayed up watching the movie in each other's embrace. For a night, you had completely forgotten about Solomon. Mammon had taken over your brain for the night with loving kisses and cuddles.

What a chapter 😬

Solomon who ??? I only know Mammon

What I would do to have a night like this with Mammon 😭

I’m actually okay with Solomon, all the Solomon slander is jokes and just for the plot 😌

Do you know what movie I referenced? 😁

The Angel bois will make their 1st appearances next chapter 😇

Taglist (Open):

@aleag @reallydelicate-cycle @iris-archive @t-misaki @belphiesbodypillow @aj-1154 @fernisasinner @hellodeath20

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.5)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Five) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 3,059 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior Author’s Note: I’m not sure if this is the last part but I’m leaning towards it.

Part Four || Part Six || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Five and a half months ago…

Tony blinked against the sun as they left the news station. Y/N had facilitated a project, along with others, to bring seniors more fresh produce in their Meals on Wheels local program. She was excited about the project and Tony honestly could not give two shits about it but if it made her happy, he was happy to be there with her. He loved seeing the joyous smile on her face and her enthusiasm talking about it.

His hand was wrapped tightly around her waist as they walked out towards his car. And his smile only faltered when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd across the street. And a face he did not want to be seeing in public like this. And they were staring directly at him, like they had been waiting for him.

Tony turned to Y/N and whispered in her ear, “I need to go to the restroom.”

“We were just inside,” she jested. “Why didn’t you go then?”

“I didn’t have to go then. Here.” He opened the door for her, letting her get in. “I’ll be right back.”

To Happy, he whispered, “Fabian.”

“What do you want me to do?” Happy asked quietly, keeping his sights on Tony and not being obvious.

“Stay here with Y/N. I’ll be right back.”

“Boss—”

“He’s not going to lay a finger on me.” Tony said and Happy looked at him disbelieving. Tony was being overconfident about it and he knew it but he could not accept lowlifes trying to approach him in public like this. “Stay here with her. I’ll be back.”

Tony walked away from the car, moving back down the sidewalk. He spotted Fabian moving through it and he smirked to himself. He walked past the news station doors, and down the immediate alley.

He was waiting when Fabian entered the alley, standing dead center, hands in his pockets. If looks could smite, Fabian would have burned on the spot. “What makes you think you can come up to me in public?”

“You haven’t been returning my calls I’ve been leaving!”

“Yeah and for good reason. You’re unhinged!”

“That wasn’t my—"

Tony stepped closer, spitting, “You listen closely, Fabian, I am done with you and your bullshit! You are done. Do you get that? You had your chance and you fucked up. And I cannot be seen in public with you. You know that though. You squeal to anyone and you won’t just have me after you, you’ll have the whole city gunning for you with how many people are tied to it and you will. not. win. If you ever come up to me in public again – especially when I’m out with my wife – I will kill you on the spot.”

Tony straightened out his jacket before storming away from the man who was staring at him slack jacked. Tony did not give him a moment to respond before he was around him and striding back down the alley.

When he got into the car, Y/N was none the wiser.

She was immediately back into conversation, talking about what good this interview was going to do for the project and thanking him for coming along with her. Tony smiled sweetly, listening intently. His adoration for her wove deeply. He truly had recovered a true gem from the rabble.

<><><>

You stared at the door in bewilderment before touching it again. F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated, “You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

“Excuse me?” you word vomited.

“Do you need me to repeat the message, Mrs. Stark?”

You hated how calm F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded.

“Override,” you tried.

“You do not have authorization to do that, Mrs. Stark.”

“Why can’t I go outside?”

“Mr. Stark blocked access at this door.”

You let out a frustrated noise before turning away from the door. You walked to the bedroom door, feeling the ache but you had to know. You walked down the stairs, taking them slowly. You went to the closest patio door, gripping the handle tightly.

“You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

Breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep yourself calm, you turned your head eyeing the next patio door.

Her voice was becoming quickly annoying. “You’re not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

You took off around the mansion, trying all the doors leading to the outside but you got the same code when it read your fingerprint. You made your way to the front door, the door to the garage, out to the garden. It was all the same message. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, it sinking in that you were locked inside.

The thought of the kitchen door out to the pool came to you and you moved as quickly as you could there. You stalled seeing Happy standing in there, cutting an apple. He stilled seeing you and you did not miss the sly look he gave you as you moved through the kitchen, past the island where he was standing.

The same goddamn message.

You whipped around and stared at Happy.

“Let me out!” you demanded.

“I can’t override what the boss has inputted into the security system. You know that,” Happy said in passive tone, looking completely indifferent to how worked up you were.

“Where is he?”

“He left earlier.”

“Well, did he happen to mention to you why he was locking me inside?” you exasperated, throwing your hands out at your sides.

Happy sucked at his teeth, leveling you with a serious look. “Y/N, do you really need to be asking me that? Truly?”

You bit your cheeks to avoid shouting at him and forced yourself to turn on your heel and storm out of the room away from him. You made your way back up the stairs, going for your bedroom where your cell was waiting on the bedside table. Snatching it off the table, you pressed Tony’s name.

“Yes, kitten?” he answered calmly.

“Your stupid AI won’t let me out!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah, I programmed that this morning.”

“You…,” you started to argue but then your voice went up a notch, trying to whine. “Daddy, you can’t keep me locked in here!”

“Can’t or shouldn’t? Because it looks like I’m already doing it, so I apparently can,” Tony replied coolly.

“You shouldn’t then!” You added for good measure quickly, “Please!”

Tony’s tone was firm when he told you, “I think I very well should. You crossed a lot of lines and I am not fucking around when I tell you that they were lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You brought this on yourself, Y/N. Maybe if you spent less time throwing tantrums and more time listening to me, you wouldn’t have found yourself here. And hopefully you won’t again. I certainly hope you won’t again. I know you can do better.”

You were quiet, biting back tears. You thought you would be cuddling this morning, everything slowly falling back to normal.

He heard you sniffle and the sound of it elicited a soft sigh from him. “Princess, you can earn my trust back. I’m a reasonable man.”

“I said I was sorry,” you said tearfully.

“Oh, I know you did. And it was heartfelt. And you did so very well last night. I was impressed by you. Truly, baby. But I need to be sure you understand how serious I am that I don’t want you to repeat that. Ever.”

You asked weakly, “When are you coming back?”

“Tonight. I won’t leave you for long. And I’m going to bring you something. But you need to just sit tight. Be good for Happy.”

You did not answer because you were staring out the window, grinding your teeth.

“Princess?”

His voice snapped you back to reality and you got out, “I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. By the way, I set up an appointment for you today, last minute. It’s a virtual meeting. Happy knows about it, he’ll help you. OB/GYN. F.R.I.D.A.Y will scan you, the baby, send it to her and she’ll correspond.”

“She’ll correspond with… F.R.I.D.A.Y?” you asked slowly.

“Just this one time. I promise we have a real appointment next week. I’ll be at every one after this and we will do it in person. Cross my heart.”

Your voice was small, “Okay.”

“I’ll see you later. Be good.”

“I will, daddy.”

He hung up and you pulled the phone away from your ear, staring down at it. He was acting weird. He acknowledged what had happened but moved so seamlessly into baby talk and appointments.

How were you going to relax knowing you were stuck in here?

<><><>

Five months ago…

The art show was boring and even more so for the afterpart of it. You had no desire to speak to anyone about it and they were all gathered in the large center room drinking wine and having finger foods. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and you removed your underwear, tossing them into the trash bin before leaving to find Tony,

Tony was speaking to someone, sitting on a set of small chairs. The sight of you caught his attention and you put your finger to your lips. He only spared you a second’s confused look before looking back at the man. But his gaze found you again quickly, curiosity getting the better of him. Over the man’s shoulder, hidden from the rest of the room by the large plant, you opened the slit in your dress, showing Tony you were not wearing any underwear. He began to smile and hid it by his hand came to his mouth, it balling into a fist as he stared daggers at you. You gave him a wide, tantalizing grin, beginning to walk backwards towards the doorway to the adjacent hallway.

You left him sitting on the couch, dropping your dress. The hallway was empty, and you walked slowly down it, taking in the art.

It did not take long for you to hear footsteps behind you, and you looked over your shoulder finding a very hot and bothered Tony coming down towards you. He wasted no time pushing you into the corner at the turn in the hall, his hands snaking up your dress. You turned your head, giving a throaty laugh.

“Listen here… if you wanna come, you better look at me,” Tony husked.

“There’s people—”

“You started it.”

You nipped at his nose and he buried his face into your neck in return. He resumed pressing you into the wall, his fingers slipping in to work you up.

<><><>

Three months ago…

People were outside in the pool, drunk in the summer sun. You though, you were inside, sitting against the wall, pouting. Some of your old escort friends had shown up per request for the guests attending and told you they were planning a trip to Vancouver to do some shopping and ‘go out on the town’ in a few weekends. You had been excited about the prospect, you had not been out like that for a long time. When you had left the group though and leaned over Tony’s shoulder at the poker game to tell him about it, he had waved you off.

“You’re not going,” had been his exact words.

Instead of going back to the girls, you had gone inside, not wanting to tell them the bad news. At the inside bar, you had taken a couple of shots and made sure Tony saw you walk by the window. You tossed him a glare as you passed. Him and his stupid open shirt over his dumb swim trunks – that you had specifically picked out earlier this week when you were shopping – could get fucked right now for all you cared.

It was not too long before Tony appeared in front of you, peering down at you, looking ever piqued. He was not happy you were sulking.

“You know, you’re really bringing down my mood, princess. Glaring at me like that because I had the audacity to deny you one thing out of millions.”

“Then stop looking at me,” you retorted, avoiding his eyes, still staring off out towards the pool party.

You heard him scoff and he said, “Don’t even try to throw a tantrum right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just sitting here.”

“Looking like I killed your fucking dog.”

You merely shrugged aggressively in response.

He gestured out towards the patio doors. “You know they’re only going to get in trouble up there. And I don’t want you to get wrapped up in it.”

“So, you don’t trust me to be faithful,” you said finally making eye contact with him.

Tony held up a finger to you and corrected firmly, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s exactly what you’re saying!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands down beside you on the bench. “You don’t trust me!”

“Don’t try to make this into something that it’s not. I don’t trust them to keep you out of trouble,” Tony retorted. “You know how they are! You were – are – friends with them for fucks sake!” You opened your mouth to argue and he cut you off. “No, I’m done with this conversation. You know what I meant. I’m sorry that you are upset but there’s a reason I’m saying no to it. Now, either shape up and come back outside or go upstairs if you’re going to just glower at me.”

Clenching your jaw, you stood up angrily and stormed off away from him towards the upstairs.

You decided on a whim to leave, grabbing a swim suit cover and throwing some sandals on. Downstairs you ran into one of Tony’s guys and you stopped because of the way he was staring at you. You had wanted to leave without anyone noticing but seemed like that was not going to be the case.

His eyes ran over you, taking you in. “You alright?” he asked curiously, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, peachy. Have fun with your dumb poker game,” you spat at him before turning and walking to the front door.

You got into the car, turning it on angrily. You knew you should not be driving but you just did not want to be at home anymore. And Cassandra’s was not too far away, only twenty five minutes or so. You took off down the driveway, actually smirking of the look on his face when F.R.I.D.A.Y informed Tony you had left whenever he decided to check in on you. That should be awhile because he had been on a winning roll.

<><><>

He did not announce himself and you only realized he was home because F.R.I.D.A.Y came over the speaker in the living room informing you, “Dinner is ready in the kitchen.”

When you walked into the kitchen, he was a complete 180 from the night before. He walked up, giving you a kiss on the forehead, asking then sincerely, “How was your day?”

“Fine…” you said, trailing off, giving him a curious look at his nonchalant demeanor.

He brushed it off, grasping your hand and began to lead you to your plate he had set up on the island next to one for him. “That’s good, kitten. Here. I hope you’re hungry.” He immediately paused and said under his breath, “Fuck. Hold on.”

Tony walked off to the pantry and your eyes wandered to the counter. You looked down at the plate and saw it was the dish from your favorite date night restaurant. He did that on purpose, you thought immediately. To remind you he remembered things you liked. To get you something that you did like. It was like an apology, extending an olive branch. This is how he knew how to apologize, with gifts.

You waited patiently until he came back with a long lighter. He smiled at you, lighting the small candle on the counter in between your plates. “Just like at the restaurant.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the small touch.

“Sorry, it’s just sparkling cider,” he told you, gesturing at the glass in front of your plate. He held up his bourbon and took a swift drink.

“It’s fine, thanks,” you said, picking up your fork and taking a bite. You savored the taste, chewing slowly.

Silence fell over the table and the two of you ate, both staring down at your plates as you ate. There was something hanging in the air between you and you just wanted to know what.

You got your answer soon enough. Tony’s sigh was heavy as he dropped his fork to his plate. “You know… I do have to apologize.”

That caught your attention.

“I hate doing it. You know I do,” he said, giving a little nervous laugh. “Admitting I’m wrong. Goes against everything in my genes. But… I could—should have done better with aftercare. The bath was bare minimum. I know you need more. We talked about it. And I… I lost my temper. And that’s not fair of me when I’m in the position I am in.”

He had your rapt attention, you tracking his every word. What he said was not untrue – you two had had a conversation about aftercare, especially when it came to punishments. He seemed genuine in his apology.

Tony made eye contact with you, grasping your hand. “In the future, especially during your pregnancy—” He cut off. “And I looked at the report. Everything seems to be okay?” You nodded and he nodded in return, “Good. Good… I need to be more careful. I need to do better. So… I’m sorry.”

You chewed your lip, taking what he said in. He was waiting for you to respond, to say anything, his eyes desperately searching yours.

“I accept your apology,” you told him.

Tony was pleased, his frame relaxing immediately at your forgiveness. Your hand was brought to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re good. So good.” He stepped closer, and his free hand came to the side of your face, looking into your eyes deeply. “So, after dinner… maybe I can lotion you down?”

“The raspberry shea?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

Three words he always said but did not seem to follow through on.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25