Easy Money (Part 6)

Easy Money (Part 6)

Dark!Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Heiress!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non-con, Kidnapping, Hostage Situation, Domestic abuse.

Author's Note(s): I hate using the word "daddy" with all my heart. So, what better way to express my hatred than to write about it?!

Robert is thriving in a state of blissful marriage. You on the other hand, not so much.

You would wake up, make him breakfast, pack lunch, all while he watched some rented porn. During the climax scenes Robert would pat his lap, signaling for you to get on your knees as he enjoys the rest of his show. After finishing off he usually leaves for ‘work’. He’d only ever let you wear a sundress or an array of slip-on garments. All for easy access. Some of them were slightly used. You never questioned where there came from. Not after noticing bits of blood sprinkled on them. You’d rather not think about it for very long. It made it all the more bearable to wear.

A white-picket fence life was never your thing. Yet here you were, living in the fucked-up version of it.

As Robert began sliding his work shoes on, you wait for him to leave. Only then could you get comfortable. You dare not to look up. In case he catches your gaze. Eye contact always led to him staying longer. You turn around and begin sweeping the living room floor. You stop as soon as you realize he hadn’t moved. Were you forgetting something? You look up. Although his expression hadn’t shown his anger his arms were crossed, “Don’t I get my kiss?” he tilts his head to the side.

Scared of what he might do next, you lean in to kiss his stubble cheek. Before you could retreat from the peck, he quickly turns his head to the side and traps you and a firm kiss. His hands grab at your rear. His long fingers start pulling up your skirt. His digits prod against your opening from behind. You squirm from his unwanted embrace. But seeing you struggle only encourages him to continue. 

You were repulsed from the taste of him. He reeked of cigarettes and musky cologne. Being in his presence alone had irked you, the sooner he’d leave the sooner you’d be left in peace.

Daily chores were all you could do. Your work had been handled by Robert through the phone, he was the sole provider in the house now that you weren’t working. He had stolen the only documents of your company and locked them in his ‘office’.

So, the only option ever given to you was the role of the housewife. Andy would help you with what he could. He was the perfect companion and a very patient child. He’s always eager to please and enjoys doing the dishes with you. A part of you hoped that once he got older, he would accomplish great things. All he’s ever wants to do is help people.

You were vacuuming the bedroom when you hear a crumpling sound. Turning off the machine you take a look at what had been caught. It’s a small book. A journal he kept hiding in plain sight. Part of you hoped it had evidence of his heinous crimes. Each page had a written date, almost like a… journal? No, there were titles for each section of the book.

Training.

Obedience.

Care.

Punishments.

Was this some sort of training book? He made a book dedicated to molding a wife. But why?

The first entry was written around the same time Robert kidnapped you and Andy. After living an entire year with this monster, the contents of what this book had made you downright terrified. He narrates it from his own point of view. How to capture and lure one’s ‘bait’. You couldn’t believe it.

Then it hit you. This wasn’t for Robert’s own enjoyment. It was supposed to be some sort of training manual. Something that he wanted to pass onto your son. He was making sure Andy would one day use this book on some poor woman. A chill ran down your spine. You’ll be damned if he ever taught your son to be a monster. There will never be a cycle for as long as you’re still breathing.

“Mama.” Andy’s voice chirps. He holds a small plastic shovel in his hands. Today you promised him to play outside. You held him close, clutching onto him until he whined from the pressure. You let go of him carefully. As if he were made of glass. You cupped his chubby cheeks, “As soon as he gets home, okay?” never bothering to call Robert ‘dad’ let alone ‘daddy’. Only when he was physically around. There would be hell to pay if you didn’t address him properly.

You and Andy had been out in the sun all day. You held him by his underarms as he leapt over a sprinkler. Of course, you wouldn’t be alone. The ankle monitor you wore had been a courtesy from one of Robert’s clients. He kept his shed door cracked open. Which meant from time-to-time Andy’s attention would go to his father you would try your best to distract him. But after a while he finally spoke up, “How come daddy doesn’t wanna come out?” he points to the shed.

Originally posted by foreverfreo

Robert’s back is faced towards you. Cooped up in his own world. For some reason your angel wanted to be a part of it. Over your dead body, “He’s really busy baby. It’s not good to go in while he’s busy.” you rub his small back. You notice his complexion is redder than before. Sighing at a possible sunburn, the daily struggle of having a child with an Irish father. You went inside to retrieve more sunscreen.

For some reason your Andy was too stubborn to take a hint. Because as soon as you step back out with sunscreen on a tray and drinks Andy decides that he wants to spend time with dad, right in his serial-killer lair. You almost drop the platter on a table as you made a run for the shed. You’ve dreaded for this day to come. How were you going to explain to him that his ‘hero’ killed for people for a living?

You slam the door open, causing Robert tilt his head around. Andy is sat on his lap. Robert isn’t annoyed at all by the soaking-wet child making himself comfortable. You briefly scan the place for anything dangerous or out of the ordinary, then look back at him in confusion. It really was just a normal shed. Having nothing wrong with it is exactly what made it so odd. You approach him warily. He always knew when you were watching. That’s how his little mind games usually start.

His eyes are hooded as he licks his lips. You know realize why. Your summer dress had been drenched from the activity from earlier. The fabric clung to your curves. Your wet hair stuck to your neck. He scoops Andy up in one arm. His gaze doesn’t falter even the slightest. Robert was like a hungry wolf. A beast that was holding your little lamb hostage. You cross your arms to hide what little decency you had. He gives a crooked grin, “Hey sport, why don’t you let me and mom chat for a bit, hm?” he places him on the ground before shooing him off.

Andy nods, “Okay daddy.” he stands on his toes to give his father a quick hug before leaving. Your poor boy had no idea what went on when his parents were ‘chatting’. You wait until your son makes it past the door, closing it behind him. You pay attention to the noise outside for a moment. Soon the sounds of his small steps are quiet. You let out a relieved sigh then turn around.

You’re face-to-face with him. He glances at your chest “Drop ‘em.” his voice is stern. Slowly, you pull your arms away. Revealing your now see-through dress, nipples already hardening from the friction. Your shoulders sink in an attempt to hide the peaks.

A large hand of his reaches to pat your temple, brushing back the hair from your face. It glides to the back of your neck where goosebumps develop. Robert darts his tongue out to swipe at his pout, “Is my kitten cold?” he always had a playful way with his words. You nod. His hand on the back of your neck pulls you into a kiss. His tongue poke against your bottom lip, motioning for access. You part your mouth open. He wastes no time delving in.

Every part of it was an act of possessiveness. Both of his hands now cup the round of your backside to rake up your skirt. With a yank the wet fabric was off of your damp skin. Robert had bunched it up your waist. He lifts you off the ground and you automatically wrap your legs around him. The kissing doesn’t break until you reach his desk. He plops you down. His head tilts to the side of yours where he starts to nip at the exposed skin.

His mouth drags from your jaw to your neck, to in between your breasts, until he bends down to your skirt. He lifts the damp fabric. You instantly part your legs for him. He hums in approval before giving a long, wet kiss against your folds. His lips wrap around your crease as his nose brushed against your bundle of nerves. He knows you love that.

It was different this time around. You could actually see him in action. You never took notice to how his long his lashes were. How prominent his features are underneath all that facial hair. How some freckles were developing from staying outside too long. Your mind went to putty when he got started. You hiss when he licks a long, hard stripe against your bud. You can’t help but lift your hips up for a better angle. His open mouth welcomes it. He pokes his tongue in and out of your opening. Practically moaning into your mound.

Your dripping folds with a mixture of his spit creates lewd squelching sounds each time his tongue muscle would plunge itself in and out. Your eyes grow wide from the sight. Your legs begin to quake. A tap to his shoulder lets him know that you were almost there. He yanks his pants down while standing back up. He practically lunges towards you.

Robert pulls your hips against the end of the desk. He prods against your slick opening before entering in one hard thrust, causing the entire desk to shake. Your nails dig into the fabric of his white tank. The bastard didn’t wait for you to adjust. That must’ve been the reason why he went downtown prior.

He pulls out before shoving his entire length in again. His strength alone sends you back against the desk. He crouches against your frame. You wrap your arms around his waist. Your hands slide under his shirt. Your nails dig into his pale skin in retaliation. Leaving angry red scratches. He hisses from the sensation, letting out a deep, guttural groan. He loves a kitten with claws.

He drags his length out until only his tip remained inside then slams it back in again. Just to hear you howl. Never once leaving you empty. He pulls your hand against his mouth before sucking on your digits, signaling you to touch yourself. You now wet pads reach for the hood of your clit. Massaging it in small, frantic circles.

Robert grunts, “Does it feel good baby?” he waits for a reply. You nod at him frantically. Robert isn’t satisfied. He slaps away your wrist away from your bud, “I said does it feel good?!” his voice is deeper, more demanding. Robert stops thrusting all together, waiting for an answer.

Your thoughts were cloudy as you frantically search for the right words, “Y-yes..” you whine from a cock-drunken haze. He slaps against your bundle of nerves, “Who makes you feel this way? Hm?!” his hand strikes your sensitive hood again, denying you the pleasure of finishing off. You gave in, as always, “You do! P-please!”

“Please what baby?” he wanted to hear the title he’d given himself. Hear you call him that special word. A name you absolutely hated to call him.

“P-please daddy make me feel good!”

Like music to his ears.

“Now, what do you say?”

“T-thank you,”

“For what?” his hand wraps around your throat. You’re a mumbling mess. His entire body weight is flush against yours as he pistons his hips. At this point, the pressure might as well break the legs off the table.

“Thank you for fucking me how I like it…aAh!” you grunt from the sensitivity. Tears trickle down your cheeks.

Robert’s thrusting is harder than ever. Skin slapping against each other could be heard only the slightest from outside. Your walls pump his seed out. His forehead is pressed against yours. You don’t bother getting up. Still winded from the aftermath. The bottom of your dress is still hiked over your waist. Your now filled cunt hangs off the end of his desk. Your breasts glisten with sweat.

All over your chest were small bruises left behind. You pry yourself up with an elbow. You reach down to cover yourself. Robert chimes in, “Wait. Don’t move.” he fumbles around, looking for something. He turns to you with a Polaroid camera in his hands. He holds it to his eye, leaning in to get a good angle, “Smile.”

You’re not amused. He could care less if you did it or not. Actually, having you pout would be cuter. He snaps a photo, and the flash goes off. He gives the fresh photo a shake. He raises a brow and whistles, “My, my, what a slutty little wife I have…” Robert pockets the photo as he lifts you from the table. Your legs are a bit shaken after wearing them out. Like a newborn fawn trying to take it’s first steps. It was hard walking while your thighs are clenched together. Harder than it looks.

You grip his arm tight. He enjoys the sight of you squirming because of him. A swell of pride strains his pants. He’s right behind you. Stalking close by. He presses his arousal against your backside. His hands are at your hips to hold you in place. He grinds his erection hard enough for you to feel it. His voice is a whisper, “Here. Let me.” he reaches for your skirt. A knee parts your legs while his palm presses in between. On hand holds your folds open with his fingers while to other is cupped underneath, catching the spunk dripping out. You grunt as more escapes for Robert to collect.

He holds it to your face for you to see. You can only think of one thing: Shame.

That’s when you hear the door knock, “Mama?” Andy politely calls. You were grateful to teach him that at an early age. After a while of not hearing anything, he opens the door. You shove yourself from Robert’s grip. Almost falling to the floor in the process. You slide up the straps of your dress before the door completely opens. A curious little Andy misses his mommy and daddy.

You usher Andy to go out, promising him you’ll be out in a minute. You turn around to glare daggers at Robert, “Could you please not do that? Or at least hold back while Andy is around.” you scoff before leaving. Robert clicks his tongue.

Little did you know it was Robert who invited him in.

The Passenger

Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1,918

Warning(s): +18, Non Con, Public Sex, Manhandling, Minor character death.

Author's Note(s): This is a one shot.

Hydra has taken over S.H.I.E.L.D, forcing Steve and the other avengers to flee. Now on the run with no one to trust.   All you wanted was to go home. You didn’t expect crossing paths with the Nomad himself.

Steven Grant Roger’s face had been plastered anywhere he could think of. Yet he remains hidden in plain sight. So far his cover hadn’t been blown. While meeting up with Sam, the two of them discuss how to take down these Hydra branches. Steve pauses for a moment.  His super soldier hearing alerted him of Hydra spies. Lingering not too far from where they sat.   Sam notices his friend’s tense behavior immediately. 

Originally posted by avengerscompound

Both him and Steve eye the other men across the counter. Steve nods to his companion. Sam knows the drill. Cap is quick on his feet, walking right out of the diner. His friend makes his way into the restroom in order to separate the spies. As soon as Steve makes it a few blocks from the restaurant his ears pick up the sound of an ambulance driving by. He checks his phone’s message: ‘Took out the trash’

Steve crushes the disposable device in his hand. He swiftly chucks the pieces into a trash bin. Sam and him would meet up later at the secret base. Which leads him to one last thing: Getting rid of the agent following him.

Originally posted by kisslandvibes

You were headed home from the library. A warm breeze swishes the skirt of your sundress. Part of you wishes that this day was spent enjoying the weather. However most of the day was spent prepping for finals. You missed your first stop but didn’t mind. There would be another train arriving soon. The train cart you stood in was mostly empty. Not surprising, especially around this time. Only one more stop and soon you’d be out. During the next stop you notice two men walking in.

Oh boy...

Nope! Now’s not the time to freak out. Besides, it’s not like you were a young woman on a train stuck with two strange men almost close to midnight. Not terrifying at all...screw it! It’s the 21st century! This is something rational to be scared about!

If they even try me I’ll scream I swear if they even think about-

You felt something—no someone. A hand was pressed firmly against your rear. You turn around to see a man. Only it was was no ordinary man. You couldn’t believe it. The entire country was looking for him. He was a suspected terrorist threat.

Captain America. Now known as Nomad.

Originally posted by buckybarsn

Your breath hitches. You begin panicking. One of his fingers is in the front of his lips, shushing you. He comes closer towards you. Your face is now buried against his warm chest. His body is flush against yours. You could practically smell the musk coming from him. Your backpack slips from your shoulder. Steve is quick to catch it with his super soldier reflex. He now holds it in one arm. You’re trapped in the other. He leans in and rests his head against your side. He whispers,

“Just play along,”

“What-“

Steve then leans in for a kiss. His lips press firmly against yours. That was defiantly not what you would expect to happen.

Your mouth gapes open in shock. Giving him easy access to guide his tongue in. Your head moves back from the light push. He holds the back of your head firmly in place. As soon as he retreats you’re a blushing mess. A set of eyes are on the both of you. Not from the ex-soldier, but from the Hydra agent eavesdropping close by. Steve notices the man shifting in his seat, he reaches inside his coat to retrieve a pistol.

Originally posted by gajo1987

The man aims it at the soldier, but not before preaching “Hail Hydra,” then fires. You’re shoved away from the direction of the blaze. Steve is quick to dodge the bullets flying. He disarms the shooter. Now angry at him for putting you in danger. He held his shoulders in a tight grip, not caring about his wince, “Who sent you here?!”

The agent chuckles, “If you cut off a head, there will be more to grow in it’s place...hail hydra...” he bites deep into a fake tooth traced with poison. Steve hasn’t seen that tactic in years. The man begins to foam at the mouth. You regain your composure. Then realizing now that the man tackled by Steve Rogers is dead. You let out a blood curdling scream. You couldn’t believe your eyes. This man...Nomad killed him in cold blood. There was that little voice in your head telling you to do one thing on instinct: Run! Run now!

You can’t decide whether to retrieve your bag on the floor, or run out without a phone. But before the Soldier could stand you sprint towards the other cart. He calls for you only once. Soon enough you’re in the next cart, then the next one, until you’ve reached the end of the train, “No no no no...n-no please...”

“Ma’am”

You shriek. Turning around now face to face with a war criminal.

“You dropped this,”

He has you cornered. You get on your knees, “Please...please don’t kill me! I-I didn’t see anything! I-I swear!”

He stares at you in confusion. One of his eyebrows raises, then he chuckles, “Are you sure about that doll? How do I know you won’t be running to the authorities right after?” He plops the bag on the ground. He reaches to pat your head, “Hm? What will you do to prove it?”

“I...I-I know that you probably don’t trust me, but please sir just look at me in the eye if you think I’m lying to you: I will not, under any circumstance tell a single soul if you promise not to kill me,” you eyes begin to pool with fresh tears, “P-please...I don’t want to die!” Your hands are now intertwined like a prayer, looking up to look into the eyes of your possible murderer. His gaze doesn’t move. Then, for a millisecond, a look of hurt.

“Get up.” his voice is stern. You hesitate for a moment too long. His arms reach for yours. He yanks you into a standing position. You’re frozen with fear. He sighs, “Relax..” which obviously doesn’t work. This annoys him, “Hold onto the handle bars. Now.” Your hands snap up and onto the grips. Steve steps behind you, “Don’t let go of the bars, no matter what. Do you understand?” You nod. He smiles, “Good..” he bunches your skirt up. You let go of the bar to stop him before he could go further. Instead you’d receive a sharp nip against your neck. That was a warning. His voice booms,

“Hands. Up.”

What other choice did you have other than complying? His hands are gentle when roaming your body. It was as if he were doing a pat down. Why should he worry about someone like you? It’s not like you were capable of taking on a Super soldier.

A hand drags down the bottom of your dress, sliding underneath to palm your clothed slit. His middle finger traces the crease, causing you hips to jolt back right against his erection. You squirm in place. Not daring to break free from his touches out of fear. He grinds forward, adding more friction. You bite your bottom lip to stifle a whine. His other hand reaches out for a breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. He rolls the soft mound in his hand, making sure to pinch the nipple.

His finger pads rub gentle circles against your bundle of nerves. Massaging it in circular motions. After a while your knees begin to buckle. Almost threatening to give in. You force yourself to keep balance as he quickens the pace. Then just like that a fire ignites. Your mouth opens, a whine escapes your lips. Your legs shake and knees buckle. The intensity from the pleasure alone clouds your mind.

Before you could register what had happened Steve gives your slit one last rub. He retrieves his now soaked hand. His fingers glisten in the dim lighting. He looks you in the eyes. His tongue laps them for a moment until he finally sucks them clean. He removes his digits with a ‘pop’ sound. You shudder from the sound echoing inside the train cart. He unzips his pants to release his throbbing member.

Both of his arms now hug you from behind, trapping you in his tight embrace. He lifts you by the waist. Holding you in the air, now hovering over his shaft. Your legs kick around in protest. Steve buries his face into the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent. Chills crawl down your spine. You twist your hips from side to side. But nothing would break you free from the super soldier.

That’s when you felt it.

When you felt him.

His leaking tip began splitting your glistening folds open. You cry out from the stretch. Steve groans from the feeling of your walls wrapping tightly around him. Practically squeezing him. His breathing is heavier now, “Relax..” he thrusts his hips up, penetrating you fully in one go. Your eyes were like saucers. You could see your reflection in the window.

Your skirt had been tied up, revealing where the two of you join. A lewd sight to see. Tears stream down your cheeks from the humiliation. He braces himself, “You Ready?” he whispers pulls you up once again. Only the tip of his cock remains inside. He lets gravity take over. By dropping you down his manhood. You could feel him piercing deeper inside each time he rocks you up and down. At this point you had no control over the super soldier’s brute force. His thrusts were inhuman.

After a while, jerking had finally slow down. His hips buck up into you one last time before heavily coating your walls. Your whole body convulses before going limp. Mouth left agape from the intensity of the orgasm. A line of spit trails from your parted lips to the floor below. Steve rests you on the seat besides him.

He retrieves your panties and slips them back on. His hands roam your body for another feel. It was about time he start treating himself. He gives your breasts a squeeze before pulling your top back up. Both of you are now seated with Steve holding you close to him. He takes his coat and wraps it around you. Your limp form leans against his shoulder. He swings your legs in between his. Both of you are seated as a doting couple.

You later awaken in your bedroom. A light breeze from an open window cools the atmosphere. The morning sun approaches, ready for the new day. You get up to shut it close. That’s when you notice your sleeves. This wasn’t your coat. So who—no..It wasn’t a dream after all.

Originally posted by mynameisgarlic

Memories from last night return. You turn around to see if anyone was in your room. This man now knew where you lived. A note is left in the pocket of the oversized coat. You drop the note immediately after reading it.

‘Until next time -S.R.’

Hidden Treasure (Part 3)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): Threats, Physical Harm, Domestic Violence.

Author's note(s): The day of the wedding.

As soon as you arrived home, your parents inform you of their encounter with the Shelby family. You were to be married off to a man by the name of Thomas Michael Shelby. A well-respected war veteran, who puts his family first. From the sound of it, he seemed to be the man of your dreams. Little did you know, within a month from now, this man would be your worst nightmare.

He had been described to you as a family man, who looked out for his loved ones. That's what first caught your attention. Any other information had been a blur, filtered out by rose-tinted lenses. Until you realized the wedding would be in a few days. Your anxiety took the best of you. As you began to spend most nights worrying about the worst possible outcomes for the wedding. You prayed that everything would go well. There was a faint bit of confidence that your parents made the right decision. They only wanted what was best for your future.

It had been days since Tommy had uttered a single word to his aunt. To his entire family. At first, he didn’t show his anger. But with each day leading to the wedding, it had felt like a dagger had been pierced though his very soul. Almost as if he were betraying the memory of his beloved Grace. He hadn’t tried to keep in contact with any of the other family members either. Even Polly had been taken aback by her nephew’s strange shift in nature. He’d never been this stubborn. Not even when he’d been a child.

Only when his aunt threatened to cut him out of the family business did he change his attitude. His brothers noticed the changes as well. Tommy was always on edge. Now more than ever. Arthur and John suggested to go all out before he became a married man once again. It had been the three Shelby brothers against the world. Drinking, partying, and gambling 'til their heart’s content. On the morning of the wedding, Tommy woke up still half drunken from the day before. He knew his brothers and men were waiting for him outside. Of course, under Polly’s strict orders. Just in case her nephew decides to have cold feet.

He readies himself for the big day. He works diligently on preparing himself. Not because he cares, but because it helps to distract him from the ongoing train of thoughts. He almost nicks himself during mid-shave, mumbling a curse under his breath. Never in his life would it take him this long to get ready. Part of him wishes he could stop everything and go back to bed. As if this day never existed. He snorts a line, rubbing the tip of his nose clean to get rid of the evidence.

Tommy’s men lean against their cars. A few check the time just to make sure they weren’t late. Arthur is first to notice how suspiciously long his brother has been. John walks to the front door. Before he could manage to knock, Arthur stops him from going any further. Suddenly the door flies open. It’s Tommy. He finally steps out, taking a huff from his cigarette, “Well boys, this is it.”

Together the Shelby men make their way to the church. Tommy doesn’t speak a word during the entire ceremony. Not once had he faltered from his stone-cold gaze.

That is until he lifts up his soon-to-be wife’s veil. A bashful beauty, dressed from head-to-toe in a silk white gown. She’s the human embodiment of an angel, on her way to meet the devil himself. Tommy smirks to himself. He might as well have a little fun with the future Mrs. Shelby.

It’s the first time you’ve met your husband. As soon as you felt him lift up your veil, you began to panic internally. To your surprise, you couldn’t believe how handsome he was! You blush when his eyes meet yours. There’s a slight twitch of nervousness from your cherry-stained lips. He smirks at your reaction. What a gullible little girl your were. When he takes your hands in his, you could practically feel your heart throbbing. You only hope he would be as kind as what you were told.

There was a sudden pause at the end of the ceremony. Tommy held your hands in his and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, they felt warm and inviting. You didn’t even realize how your head leaning towards his until he pulls back. You duck your head with embarrassment. It's your first kiss, and you’ve already made a fool of yourself.

After sharing vows and greeting each guest, you bid your family goodbye. Your little niece and nephew are the last ones to receive your affection before being led off by your now husband. You're sat in the backseat of his car. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. This was a strange feeling. But it wasn't like you had a choice. Your parents weren’t getting any younger, as were you. It was about time you settled as well. It felt strange though. Knowing that this would be a lifetime of commitment, until death.

I guess this is it...I’m a married woman now.

It didn't feel real, sitting beside your now husband, Mr. Tommy Shelby. How handsome he was indeed. A sight for sore eyes. You felt giddy seated in the back of the car. You had never been left in the same room as a man before. Maybe after some time you’d grow familiar to his intimidating presence.

Tommy speaks up, “Get out,”

“I-I’m sorry?” your brows furrow in confusion. He tilts his head towards the direction of his estate.

Oh, right, how silly of you.

From now on this would be your new home. As soon as you step foot inside it felt a bit off. His home was very spacious, but also somewhat lonely. Almost...sad. You spoke up, “How long have you lived here?” trying to start a conversation.

“Long enough,” Tommy walks up the stairs. You remove your shoes before following him up the flight. You were ready to open the luggage that had been left waiting in his—your room. But to your surprise the baggage had already been unpacked by the help. You look around, studying just who Tommy Shelby was. His bedroom is simple. His lifestyle is…complicated. That you would be discussing later.

When your eyes meet the king-sized bed, your body physically tenses. Just the thought of being with a stranger–bedding a stranger, didn’t sit well with your conscious. Even if there was a wedding ring. Deep down you knew there would be no backing down. You were already in too deep. Hopefully he was an understanding man.

You scan the room in search of any other place to sit. To your dismay there hadn’t been any chairs available. You lift the front of your dress before walking to the bed and taking a seat. This time Tommy follows you to sit on the bed. His coat and hat are long gone. His hand now holding yours. A wedding ring he gave you glimmers in the dim lighting. Tommy looks into your eyes as he caresses your cheek. It’s a sweet, tender moment at first.

Then his grip begins to tighten. It became almost painful with his ring digging into your jaw. His thumb held your chin in place. His voice is deep and menacing, filled with venom, “Your job is to be a dutiful wife, alright? Don’t expect anything special, do you understand?” He tilts your head up, “Do.you.understand?” that was one way to break a girl’s fantasy.

Tommy wanted to make sure you’d comply to his every bid, no matter what. Even if it meant scaring you into submission. You look up to meet his icy blues then down to avoid his intimidating gaze, “…Y-yes.” you faintly reply. He lets go. You rub your face. His strength was not something that compared to the average man.

You make a mental note not to get on his bad side. The room is silent for a bit before you chirp up, “…May I please retire for the night?” deep down part of you just wanted him to leave. Nothing could make you more upset than now, or at least that’s what you thought. Tommy could tell you were on the edge by the way your hands shake, cautiously peeling the lace veil from your hairs.

You began to remove all jewelry and drop them onto the nightstand. One by one, you remove each gift your husband bestowed upon you. The very last item had been a diamond necklace. You unclasp the small chain. But before you could drop it on the nightstand you hear him call for you. His voice is sturdy, “No, keep it on, I want to see you wear that and only that for when we get started,”

Hidden Treasure (Part 8)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): Angst, Fluff, Mentions of past domestic violence.

Author's note(s): Innocent heartfelt chapter (cue the fluff).

Your husband would have Finn either send messages to you, or simply keep an eye on your wellbeing. Although Finn hadn’t a clue of what was going on, he knew you of all people didn’t deserve this sort of treatment. He made sure to visit as often as he could for company.

You were grateful the moment Tommy finally let you out that dreadful basement. You hadn’t forgotten the promise made a few weeks ago to Finn. To bake him a signature custard from your bakery. He’d been dying to try. Soon, it became common for the youngest Shelby brother to stop by. He would either have a letter or message from Tommy. Most of them were if your husband would be late or earlier from work.

You’d pack Finn some lunch before bidding him a farewell. Most of the time it was just you and Charlie in one big, empty house. To say that he was a sweet child was an understatement. He had the power to make anyone’s cold heart melt. How could such a charming child come from a man like Tommy? You hadn’t a clue.

Of course, you could never replace Grace. You weren’t the one who’d given birth to him. But Charlie was your son in every single way that mattered. There were even a few special moments you’d spend with the other Shelby family members. You especially enjoyed bonding with the women of the family. Teatime with Polly was a particular favorite. She would give you as much advice as a wise woman could. In a way, Polly became your second mother.

As you were setting up the table Polly had been bouncing Charlie on her lap. Finn decided to stop by since today’s work was slower than usual, he choose to stay a little longer. Polly examines her finished tea. Her expression was confused at first, then startled. She shows Finn the cup, and it was as if he'd read something from it.

Polly let’s out a small sigh, “Tell me my dear…” she places her cup on the table, “…has my nephew been treating you well?”

You’re at a loss for words. How could you answer to her? Should you tell her the truth? How would she react? You made up your mind to keep it short and subtle, “Tommy provides me with everything a wife may need. What more could a woman want?” you try your best to force a smile, hoping that it was a good enough answer.

But Polly was suspicious that something wrong within your marriage. She could sense it, “You didn’t answer my question dear, has he been treating you well?” her voice is sterner this time. You tense. Your heart races, “I-I’m not sure what you mean...” you play off. Polly could tell that over the period of time since you've been married, the flicker of light in your eyes had disappeared. Blown out by the cold blues that followed into your nightmares.

At that point, Finn has had it. As soon as Polly leaves, he tells you of his plan, “Tommy’s going to some event next week, and he won’t be back until the morning,”

“Finn…” you warn. It wouldn’t be a good idea breaking your husband's trust. A man like Tommy never forgets. Finn grumbles, “I’m sick and tired of seeing him treat you like--like the dirt on his shoes! The bloke!” his hands ball into fists. You don’t think twice about his statement, in fact you understood completely why your new brother had the right to react like this. You sigh, reaching for his hands to hold, “Could you do me a favor?”

You were kept busy for the next few days, planning on yet another escape. Hopefully the last. Finn would send letters to your sister who lived in the next town. It had been quite a while since the two of you would communicate. Her and her husband had been busy since delivering their new baby.

So, it would take time to pack up their belongings before moving in with your parents. Finn would stop by the postal, on the way to wherever he was heading in order to avoid suspicion. For once it felt like everything was going your way.

As each day went by, you grew more excited to leave this place, once and for all. You let out your hair, made yourself more presentable, you even started smiling again. Tommy took note of how the corners of your lips would curl upwards on their own as you hummed a tune while making supper.

He’d been silently observing you adjusting to your new life. After putting away the dishes, you hoist Charlie on a hip before leaving the kitchen. Tommy listens carefully to your footsteps leading up the stairs before following them. He stops in front of his bedroom door, reaching for the knob.

But before he’s had a chance to twist it open a faint sound of laughter erupts. He opens the door to spot you and Charlie on the bed. Your hands reaching to tickle the boy’s sides. Seemingly unknowing that your husband is witnessing the display of affection.

You hoist the toddler into the air. Tommy notices your expression. For the first time in months, you're actually smiling. It was like some sort of trance. He leans against the door frame. Seeing you with his boy felt, in a strange way, right. As if you both were meant to be. His son loves you. You drop Charlie onto your bosom to catch your breath.

Soft giggles manage to slip out of every exhale. Charlie’s hair tickles your chin so you tilt it to the side. That’s when you notice Tommy standing at the doorway. His posture is more relaxed than usual. For how long had he been standing there?

You look away from his gaze. It always did make you nervous. His fingers twitch, curling into his palms, “I uh...” he slides them into his pockets, “I want you to be my guest for an event,” Tommy looks up, waiting for an answer. You raise a brow and sit up, still holding the boy in your arms, “Who’ll watch over Charlie?”

“Finn offered to keep an eye on him.” of course.

“Alright,” you agreed, already knowing how it would play out. Tommy nods, “I’ll be back, ‘bout three hours from now.” he checks his pocket watch. Double taking the time. You hadn’t planned for him to take you anywhere. It’ll only delay your plans. But you couldn’t risk him questioning his decision, “Sure thing.” you return. Tommy looks as though he had one last thing to say, “And uh...wear something nice,” He turns away, leaving as soon as he came. Now that was odd.

Sleeping Beauty

Dark!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2,476

Warning(s): +18, Non Con, Dub con turned non con, Misogynistic remarks, Forced Cuckholding, Unwanted orgasm, Forced eye contact, Double Penetration, Bucky partakes in your bedroom tradition.

Author's Note(s): One shot fic. I'm bored at work and wanted to kill some time.

It was the day of your anniversary and your husband is nowhere to be found. You stare back at the clock ticking in the dining room. It had been almost an hour and Steve still hadn’t returned. This isn't the man you married. If your Stevie promises something, he intends to keep it.

You sat alone at the head of the dining room table, cupping your tear-stricken face. It makes you sick knowing that your husband was out there doing god knows what at this hour. You were sure he wouldn't miss something as important as this specific day. Just one day, was that so much to ask?

Your ears perk at the sound of the front door knob jingling. In comes Steve, being hoisted up by his best friend Bucky. His face is a tint of red that spread all the way to his ears. You had only seen him like this a few times, the first time during a new year’s event when he'd confessed his love for you, the second had been on your wedding day. It was obvious that he'd been too drunk to even walk straight. There's only one thing responsible for causing this: Asgardian ale.

Bucky’s smile falters when he notices you frowning. He sits Steve on the couch then walks over to the dining room table where you're sat. His metal hand brushes through his dark locks, “I uh…sorry doll, Steve said it was your anniversary and I suggested we celebrate-”

“I swear Barnes, you'll find any excuse to get my husband drunk. Just look at him! He can barely walk!"

He sighs, “I was the one who cut him off. He was the one who insisted on drinking." Nudging to his passed-out friend. You scoff, “That doesn't explain why he’s drunk off his face right now.” barking back. Bucky’s shoulders stiffen and arms cross. He stares at the floor in silence. You massage the sides of your temple. Only stopping when Bucky mutters, “With a wife like you I wouldn't blame him." Causing you to abruptly look up, “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if I came home to my woman bitching every day, I’d want to be drunk off my ass too,” he sneers. Your jaw drops, “Who...who....” almost at a loss for words. You shoot up, “Who the hell do you think you are!? You don’t know a thing about marriage!”

“Marriage? No. But I know a leech when I see one. You don’t even know how to be a wife. Ask Steve and he’ll start singing. You barely clean the house, don’t even cook, always have some sort of excuse to avoid sex. You don’t do jack shit. Steve works his ass off every day, and you don't even put it out when he gets home?” he scoffs, “So fucking entitled I swear.”

"The only ‘relationship’ you've had in the past 70 years is with a block of ice." you jab. His jaw ticks, that one actually managed to get under his skin. Every damn day you'd find a way to inadvertently piss him off. If you wanted to stoop low that's fine, he can go lower, “Yeah well you seem to be occupied with that little pink vibrator of yours," he noticed the color leaving your face, "Oh yeah, I know you've been hiding it from him. You think he‘s too dumb to understand what it’s for, shit, you even had the gall to ask him to buy you new batteries for ‘kitchen appliances’, I mean, how stupid do you think he is?” he chuckles, "If you needed a real man, all you could've done was ask,"

All you see is red. You give him a final warning, “Well, I don’t see a man.” you snap back, "You know what, James? Times have changed, and I think Steve’s friends should too.”

Bucky doesn't like that. Not one bit.

“Do you really think he’ll keep listening to you?”

“Try me.” you hiss. Bucky smirks at that challenge, "Do you know the things he says to me while you're not around? Do you know all the sick and vile things he’s fantasized about?" he nears. Your brows furrow at his accusation. Not your Stevie. He would never. Bucky raises a brow, "Maybe we could play that favorite game of yours...Sleeping Beauty." smiling at the look of terror on your face. He knows that you and Steve have been experimenting in the bedroom.

“Hey Steve!” he hollers for the other super soldier. Steve jostles from his rest. He’s in the room in a matter of seconds, "What's wrong?" his voice is hoarse from the nap. Bucky waves to his friend, "I just wanted to say goodnight to you and the Mrs." he gives you a wink. Steve's brows furrow, "Honey what's wrong?" tilting his head, the light capturing his features in an angelic way.

You can't help but soften at the sight of those soft blues. This argument wasn't worth ruining the rest of your night. You roll your eyes, "Nothing..." shrugging it off. But if only it were that simple. Steve looks at the time and hisses, "You should stay for the night Buck." he insists, "We have a spare bedroom available upstairs."

You couldn't believe him. You marched upstairs and slam the door. It was one thing for him to be late for your anniversary, it was another bringing Bucky along, out of all people! You don't bother checking up on them. Instead preparing yourself for bed. Surely in the morning Steve would wake up and regret his actions. He stumbles into the room, already loosening his tie.

You spot his reflection in the vanity but pay no attention. Ignoring him would be a suitable punishment. You decide to lay further away from his side of the bed, occupied with a book in hand. Yes you still love him, with all your heart, but right now his excuses weren't worth your energy tonight.

Steve knows your upset, he could feel it seeping through your pores. He sighs, "I'm sorry. I should've remembered it was today, and I know that isn't an excuse but...let me make it up to you..." Steve loosens his tie. It's been a long, hectic day, filled with countless meetings. All he wants to do now is spoil his wife.

He sits on the edge of the bed, holding your feet in his hands, kneading small circles along the curve. You stifle a moan. By now Steve knows your body too well. "What are you in the mood for, dear?" His super hearing picks up the sound of your closing your book. He smiles when he hears a faint whisper,

"...Sleeping beauty." you mumble.

Steve smirks, "Smart choice." he slides down his pants, letting them fall as he palms his girth. You eye him eagerly, already dripping with desire. Of course you couldn't say no to a little spoiling, placing your book carefully on the nightstand. You shimmy off your gown. Wearing only your undergarments as you reposition your body. You toss a few pillows off the bed, making room for your limbs to stretch. Laying back on the soft pillows as you closed your eyes and pretend to sleep. Steve crouches from above, palming his manhood through his briefs.

Tonight, you would play the role of an unconscious maiden, unaware of her being taken advantage of. An act that Steve had grown fond of. Your husband was nothing less than a gentleman. He could never stomach the idea of taking advantage of a helpless woman. At least not while she’s aware. So, playing out this fantasy had been more than enough to satisfy his certain urges. Well, almost enough.

A thumb presses against your bottom lip, parting your mouth slightly. He could feel your soft breaths. He dips his tongue deep inside, enjoying the taste of it. He retreats with a satisfied hum as he smacks his pink lips. He nips and suckles the side of your neck, creating a trail to the curve of your chest. He pulls down your bralette, nipping and suckling the buds until they’ve peaked. He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You felt the sensation of his gentle touches. Steve’s embrace had always felt soothing, calming and oh-so delightful. Part of you fought the urge to pounce on him right then and there. But you knew the reward after would be worth it. Patience was key. Everything was going at an easy pace. You suddenly felt the wiring of your bra snap open, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You shiver but remain still. This was unlike Steve, perhaps it was liquid courage?

A rough hand reaches for the waistband of your panties, yanking the garment down. A calloused hand parts your legs roughly to expose your womanhood. His finger pads are rough as they rub at your slit. Part of you bit back a whine as they attempt to collect any wetness. Then the sound of him spitting on it shocks you. That was new. Again, the fingers return, this time coating the slit with more saliva. As rough finger pads trace your bundle of nerves the sensation of teeth nipping at each breast.

He plunges his digits deep into your channel. A faint whine escapes your throat. Almost writhing in pleasure from the stretch. Your hips jerk up instinctively. He pulls them out to press your hips down. Then begins pumping them at a rough pace. It takes everything in you to control your breathing. This was an entirely new side to Steve, and you love it.

He notices the muscle tightening around his digits and swiftly pulls out. He rubs up and down your slit before making circles around your clit. You jerk your hips up again, which led to him cupping your mound with a harsh slap. He stokes at your folds before giving another smack. Then another, before sliding his fingers back in.

At this point you’re drunk on pleasure. You’ll do anything to cum and he knows it. He lifts a leg over his shoulders to give a full view. He begins to pump his digits to a vigorous pace. Knowing very well what he was doing. His long fingers find that sweet spot inside you. Again, he made you chase for your orgasm before denying it.

He flips you over, gripping the back of your head as he pushes it against the bed. He retrieves a pillow and places it against your underbelly. Before you've had a chance to adjust, he's already pushing in. Steve has never taken you in this position before. His length felt...different. He felt much more thicker, to the point where it was almost unbearable, almost.

You squeal into the pillow. Toes curling as he held an arm around your torso. He thrusts at a brutal pace. Your eyes roll back as he took what he wanted. Smacking your rear every now and then to feel you clench around him. He doesn't slow down nor does he falter. He's dead set on cumming right there, right now.

He lifts his leg up and pushes in as deep as he could reach. He emptied his load, warm spurts coat your walls. Filling your womb to the brim. He grunts from the sensation of it, licking the shell of your ear as he came. He backs up, letting part of his length remain inside, plugging you in.

His thumb presses against your rim. As if he were testing the waters. He collects your arousal, scooping up the slick before lathering it against your other hole. He inserts a digit in, watching you writhe in pleasure oh-so beautifully.

You felt something prodding against it. A familiar feeling. He pushes the small phallus in until it's end remains. You groan from the stretch. You don't know what it was exactly until he presses a button. It's faint buzzing has you sobbing with pleasure. You were going to tell Stevie about the vibrator, eventually. But now he was just being cruel.

He slams his length back into you. Gripping your hips hard enough to hurt. One of his hands has felt stronger than the other. As he thrusts his hips back and fourth, you lose the strength to hold your position and fall forward. He continues to plunge at a brutal pace, deepening his strokes until climaxing yet again. You were in sheer bliss. Almost passing out with pleasure.

He finally flips you over to take a good look. You fight the urge to keep your eyes shut. You've been waiting for this moment and he knows exactly what to do. There’s only one way to wake sleeping beauty up: A True love's kiss. And if there’s one thing Steve loved more than anything else, it's watching his best friend cuckhold his wife.

Steve has to bite his lips to stifle the moan escaping. His eyes are hooded with lust. He delves his tongue deep into your abused channel, latching his lips on your mound as he tastes his friend's spent. He rolls his eyes back, savoring the moment with a hum. You whine from the sensation of it.

His moans send a vibration throughout your slit. It takes every muscle in your body not to cum right then and there. Steve muffles his face against your womanhood. Moving his head from side to side as he brushes his nose against your clit. He engulfs the erotic scene in front of him. Savoring every last drop. Almost losing himself in the process. When he retreats he confesses, “You were right Buck, this was a great idea.”

Your eyes shoot open when he says those words. Steve lifts your legs up as he drags you to the end of the bed. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as he pulls you towards him. He rubs his tip against your now drenched opening, looking you dead in the eyes as he gave a command, “Look at me.” he grips your jaw in a firm grasp, growling in your face, “You look at your husband when he's speaking to you."

Bucky can't help but smirk. He taught him well. Maybe that'll keep you from running your mouth. He retreats to the kitchen where the unopened champagne bottle was left. When he returns you're a blubbering mess. He pops the cork off, tilting the bottle over Steve's head. His friend tilts his head back, opening his mouth to capture the liquid. Bucky pours the rest onto your naked bodies. Lapping the drink from your skin.

Bucky lays right next to you as Steve lifts your body. He sits you in his friend's lap. Your eyes are shut, head bowing with shame. Until you feel Bucky's girth pressing against your rear. They shoot open as you began pleading with him, begging for Steve to make him stop. Your husband only chuckles at your measly attempt to escape.

He smiles when he sees you taking his best friend. As if Bucky were made for you. He sighs with adoration, "Thanks for the anniversary gift Buck, I should’ve done this a long time ago," Steve rasps. His friend matches his pace, “Knew you’d like it.” Bucky moans, grunting as you took both of them in.

Hidden Treasure (Part 1)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): None.

Author's note(s): I’ve been holding this off for a while and I am so sorry for that! Anyways here’s the Tommy fic I was requested to do a while back! It’s also super long so please be patient I’m not good with details/creative writing!!

Your marriage to Tommy was a living nightmare, starting on the very first day you met, the day of your wedding. As soon as you say the words, ‘I do’ it was final. He made sure you would never be able to leave. There is no escaping the demon of Birmingham.

“Please sir...I need a place to stay—just for tonight, I promise you I’ll be on a boat first thing tomorrow, I swear on my life!” you fell to your knees, both hands clasped together in a prayer-like form. Your entire body shivered, dripping from head-to-toe from the freezing rain. Your face is dull, almost sickly-looking from the wind.

Your eyes were already brimming with fresh tears, as you look up at the older man and plead, “P-please I just want to be free of him. I just want my freedom!” At this point you’ve swallowed down any pride you've once had. You’re exhausted, absolutely spent. Your spirit couldn't be any more broken than what it already is. Alfie stood up. His height towers over yours even while slouching. In the past, you would’ve been intimidated by a gangster like him, but you’ve learned long ago that looks can be quite deceiving. He clears his throat, “Look...do you have any idea what you'll do once you're in the states?” sounding as if he had no faith in your little escape plan.

You glare back at him, “I'll do anything, I’ll work for dirt if it means I’ll be free from my damned husband,” you huff out. Alfie raises a brow, “You’re running away because of some marriage dispute?” but before he could say anything else, you’ve already beaten him to it, “It wasn’t my choice, dammit!” there's a hint of venom with each word, “My father can’t take care of himself!” your vocal cords starting to ache from the pressure, yet you still continued, “My mother is far too old to work! I had to agree to the marriage to ensure that someone would care for them, I had to wait until my sister and her husband arrived, so that they would be cared for!” you cry out. Alfie shrugs off your outburst, “You don’t think he’ll go after them? Hm? Before you even set a fucking foot on that boat,” he turns around, tending to the fireplace.

You mutter, “I’d rather drown on that boat then live the rest of my life as Mrs. Shelby...” that’s when Alfie stops poking at the wooden blocks. He turns around with a genuinely surprised expression," 'Pardon me ma’am but Mrs. fucking what?” his hand gestures to an ear as he tilts his head in. Now, he’s intrigued. He was told that you were escaping a gangster, but never told which one.

You look the man up and down, taking a cautious step back, “And just how do you know my husband?” ready to make a run for it. Alfie sits himself in a chair, he leans back, “The real question is, how do you?”

7 months ago

“What you need Tommy, is a wife, for your own good.” Polly scolds her nephew. But he only nods, still nose-deep in paperwork. It’s been like this for months. Almost two whole years of Tommy locking himself up in his office. From early morning, to late at night, he would bury himself to the neck in work. It broke her heart knowing that Charlie would wait hours for his father to return home. Only to be stood up again and again. Polly had been genuinely worried for her nephew’s well-being. Although he'd kept to himself, she could tell that Tommy was lonely. It had been years since he even laid eyes on a woman.

Not since his beloved Grace.

That same day Polly and Ada brought Charlie with them to the marketplace. It was better than being cooped at home all day with no one to play with. As soon as they'd turn their backs away from the young Shelby boy, he was nowhere to be found. Ada is the first one to notice, looking around frantically for her dear nephew, 

“Charlie?…Charlie?! CHARLIE!”

Ada swiftly turns to her aunt, “Polly! Charlie’s missing!” pure panic swarms her mind. Polly orders for their group to split up in hopes of finding him before someone else would. She shoves frantically though the busy crowd. As soon as the Shelby matriarch hears her name being called by an unfamiliar voice, she pauses for a brief moment to listen. Polly reaches into her pocket, clutching a holster, ready for the worst to happen. This voice had been calling for her specifically. She follows the sound of it. With each step the voice became louder, “Polly! Aunt Polly!” That’s when she finally spots the young boy.

A young woman holds his hand in hers. His eyes are a reddish hue from crying. Polly eyes her for a brief moment. But before she could speak the young lady beats her to it, “You must be Aunt Polly.” Her face seems familiar. Polly raises a brow, “Do I…know you?”

She shakes her head, “Not that I’m aware of, no. I saw little Charlie over here all by himself, broke my heart listening to him cry, I had to do something about it,” she lets go of his tiny hand. Charlie reaches for his great aunt. Polly pulls the young boy into her arms, now holding him tightly. A small arm wraps around her neck. His other one held a treat given by the woman.

It was the only clue Polly needed. Now she knew exactly who this mystery woman was. How could she have not known her? The entire town knew of her and her family. She’s the baker’s daughter. A sweet, lovely woman, bit shy though. Only keeps to herself when working. Soft spoken and polite to all. A nice girl, the type you’d bring home to your parents.

Speaking of which…

“Are you married?” Polly blurts out. You look up to her with wide eyes then shyly look down, “N-no..” a meek response revealed to her your innocent-like nature. She raises a brow, lips now curled, “Really? What a shame, such a beautiful young woman and no line of bachelors…or is there?” Polly decides to test the water. You let out a nervous chuckle, “Oh no madam, not even one,” you'd give a sheepish reply at the question told. Polly purses her lips, “Please dear, call me Aunt Polly,” she raises a gloved hand out for the younger woman to shake, giving her name with a warm smile. Most families would dread to wed their daughter off to a Shelby. Hopefully yours won't shun them away. Polly has high hopes for this one, quite proud of herself for stumbling into you.

What better place to find a decent woman than at the marketplace.

Polly wastes no time finding out where her parents lived. Her mother was an active member of quire. Now, her days were spent running the family business along with her husband and youngest daughter. She came from a wealthy family and ended up falling for the town’s baker. He's a quiet man with gentle hands, similar to that of his daughter. Together they raised two children, the eldest daughter now married.

At first glance, the father wouldn’t seem like the type to serve as an honorary militant. But nonetheless, their small family only had each other. No groups or communities to relate to. Just their own, small tribe. Perhaps they’d be willing to marry off their youngest daughter, with a little persuasion of course.

Their Bakery did make plenty of income and would benefit both of their businesses. Polly was already fond of the family. She wouldn’t let just anyone unite with theirs. Perhaps they needed a helping hand to run the shop. It would be easy business, with tremendous gain for their growing empire. Polly’s plan was coming together perfectly in her head. Now all she needed to do was play her cards right.