#act coy and invite the man for a bath

[starlessea2]

The Dawn Watch (Astarion)

Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]

Summary: As dawn breaks the morning after the tiefling party, you find a vampire basking in the sun. In the daylight, all of his pretty words start to unravel. (Act 1 spoilers).

A/N After a week of feverishly playing (and completing) BG3, here's my first Astarion writing. Part 1/3 of a WIP mini-series called the Sunlight Chronicles.

Masterlist

Sunlight was warm on your eyes. It coaxed them open and made you blink: once hard, twice fast. Your lids were heavy, yet you could hardly remember closing them in the first place. Neither could you recall dozing off in a pile of leaves. 

As you pressed yourself into the ground, the forest floor rustled beneath you. A cacophony of dried foliage and bark, made somewhat comfortable by the mossy overgrowth. It took you a moment to understand your surroundings.

The tiefling party had bustled on into the early hours. It was the first reprieve you’d allowed yourself since being plucked from Baldur’s Gate and thrust into this new adventure. But, perhaps you had overindulged… 

There was a fire in your belly still, laden with mead and lingerings of lust, and it had led you here: stark-naked and alone on the outskirts of camp. 

A chuckle sounded behind you. “I was starting to wonder whether I’d drank you dry.”

You sprung up to your elbows. Not alone, you suddenly remembered.

Your head whipped around, settling on the figure bathed in the light of the low sun. “But alas, you were just making good on that beauty sleep. Morning, pet.” 

Rubbing the bleariness from your eyes, you found Astarion. He was radiant. Rays of dawn had snuck through the trees, dappling between branches onto his pale skin. And his hair... Caught in that glow, it looked like leftover starlight. 

The only thing letting him down was his smile. It was utterly charming, as always. But it was more obvious in the daytime; that smile was well-practised.

“Umm, good morning,” you eventually croaked back.

Your eyes locked with Astarion's, too nervous to wander over his body. He noticed, of course, and so he paced before you—a small strut, hands on his hips to invite your appraisal.

You looked away. Even in the warmth of the sun, you could feel the man’s contribution to your cheeks. It incited a laugh from him. 

“Oh now don’t pretend to be coy, my sweet,” he said. “Not when there was hardly any of that last night.”

You turned your head; any liquid courage you’d gotten from the party had long since worn off. But now sober, Astarion made your heart ache. His falsity was clear as day. He uttered the words you so desperately wanted to hear, but delivered them on the back of a deceitful voice. 

A sigh escaped you; perhaps the only time he hadn’t lied was when he’d called you naive. 

Awaiting your reply, Astarion became indignant. "What?" he asked. "Disappointed at the lack of morning cuddle? If you ask nicely, perhaps I’ll come back to join—”

"No," you said. "I just..." His eyes watched your every move, red and calculating. You took a moment to collect yourself. "I'm surprised that you stayed at all," you admitted. "Didn't take you for the type." 

His hand fell over his chest. "Oh, how you wound me! I try to do the gentlemanly thing, and yet you accuse me and look at me like that."

You cocked a brow. "Like what?"

Astarion let out an exasperated sigh. "Let’s just say it’s easier to know what you're thinking when your eyes are shut.” He made a face, mortifyingly reminiscent of one you’d likely pulled the night before, and your mouth fell ajar.

If you’d been wearing shoes, you would have hurled one at him. But embarassed and barefoot, you instead dug your palms into the soil, more than ready to depart.

Astarion was roused into action. "Oh come on, my dear," he said softly. He sunk to the floor beside you, coaxing you to stay. "All in good fun."

You deliberated for a moment, watching him in your peripheral. There was a smile on his face but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, a pang of hurt made itself known. You quickly squashed it down, hoping Astarion had not noticed it in his.

Whatever feelings had bubbled over last night were absent this morning, you could just tell. Perhaps he no longer found you interesting now that he'd conquered you. Maybe he'd pursued you just to break your heart, or gods forbid, he'd been put off after sleeping with you—

“It’s just so warm.”

The words left Astarion, quiet as a whisper. But then his eyes widened and his lips formed a taut line—as though they'd never intended to let anything escape at all.

"What?" you started. But with one small glance at the man, you realised; he was talking about the sun.

For a moment, you watched him, basking in the glow like there was no place he'd rather be. You hummed in agreement. “I guess it’s something we all take for granted here.” 

He nodded. It became obvious then; he hadn’t stayed for you, but for the sunrise.  

“Astarion, I–”

He snapped his head. The look in his eyes cautioned you—told you the two of you weren’t that close. But something behind that almost dared you to try.

Against your better judgement, you proceeded. “You might have already guessed, but I’m no early riser." A chuckle instinctively followed. “I know Lae’zel told us not to question the shifts she allocated, but..." you paused, "who wants to take watch at the crack of dawn? Certainly not me.”

It was silent for a moment—save for the soft lilting of birds and the occasional breeze. Yet even then, the morning dawned so quiet that your breaths felt loud.

It took a few seconds for Astarion to reanimate, but when he did, it was with a smile. “Oh, my dear... If you’re struggling that badly, you could’ve just said." He sat up, readjusting to meet you straight on. “It’s not a bother swapping with you—if the night shift is more to your taste.”

Your heart felt warm. Truthfully, you liked the dawn watch, but you had a feeling it would be better appreciated by him. “That would be wonderful, thank you."

You had an inkling that Astarion recognised your ploy, but but if did, he wasn’t making a show of it. His hand wove its way into yours, and pressed it into forest bed. “My pleasure," he said. Then he leaned forward with a grin.

You anticipated a kiss, but he stopped before your neck, tracing the bloody bruise he'd bestowed with his lips—worrying last night's sore between his teeth. “It's the least I can do...”

As he mumbled against your skin, a shiver sparked through your shared connection.

“I’ll be more gentle next time." His breath fanned hot over your ear. “Both ways.”

You let out a gasp. "It's okay, we don’t have to—” The words ejected from you, all flustered and not at all how you pictured them.

Astarion offered a smirk in return, but it was accompanied by an expression you now recognised.

He thought you naive.

“Precious,” he said beneath his breath, before returning your crumpled dress to you. “Now come. We best not keep the others waiting.”

And so you followed his lead and quickly dressed: smoothing your hair and attempting to rid your cheeks of their flush.

If anyone asked, you'd say you were sun-kissed.

[peepingtoad]

WARM AND FUZZY MEME! (accepting--yes, still, even though I have 6 to write T_T) // @oc-lootcrate (Ari)

☂ YOUR MUSE SHIELDING MY MUSE FROM RAIN

In one of those unusual little twists of the summer season, the heavens opened not too long before Jiraiya reached Konoha’s gates—the timing absolutely perfect, of course. Not that he was one to immediately flee for shelter the moment it started spitting, not by any stretch, but after a long and arduous journey the last thing one wanted was the extra discomfort of clothing plastered to one’s skin, or the denser weight of one’s pack as it became saturated in minutes by the sudden downpour.

And it only got worse. Before long, the fuzzy-static sound of rain battering the trees and ground grew harsher, more cacophonous, until the raindrops seemed to resemble endless flurries of senbon rather than mere water.

Good grief, he thought with a grimace, it’s like being back in Ame itself!

… And speaking of, looked like it was high time to go back on the whole ‘not fleeing’ thing.

When he eventually bypassed the grand wooden gates—still trotting with the momentum of one of the more bracing sprints he’d had in his lifetime—the Chūnin stationed there attempted to greet Jiraiya, only to be met with a raised hand and a grunt when he finally stopped. Both hands planted on his knees, he attempted to regain his bearings… and his breath.

Was his body finally beginning to fail him? Were the decades of alcohol, smoking and all-you-can-eat buffet abuse creeping ever nearer with cruel, sharp, youth-draining fingers? Was erectile dysfunction next? And had the rain at this very moment suddenly stopped, even though the sound of it remained all around?

... Oh shit, I ran so fast I exploded my eardrums. This is it. This is…

“Um… Jiraiya-sama?�� A mild voice stirred him from his brief but poignant moment of crisis, and the sage glanced upwards to be met with a familiar face. Ari was holding an umbrella over them both, and for some reason Jiraiya could detect not a single shred of judgement about him despite his… state.

“Uh. Hey,” he replied not-so-smoothly, and straightened up. He then languidly raked a hand back through his soaking wet hair, and offered a casual laugh. That usually made one appear cooler, right?

“Well, this umbrella sure ain’t big enough for the two of us~” he commented, sliiiiightly more smoothly this time, and just a touch suggestively. The beginnings of a teasing smile tugged at his lips, remembering how disastrous a misplaced kiss had turned out that one time. Oh, he could definitely get some kind of hilarious response again from Ari if he were to press up closer for ‘more shelter’... but perhaps it would be beneficial not to send his conveniently timed saviour into a panic.

“Well I reckon a good, hot bath is definitely in order. What d’you say?” He placed a hand on Ari’s shoulder, and used it as leverage to draw a little bit nearer, smiling with both eyes and mouth. “If not, not to worry—but I know you’ll at least chaperone me, gentleman that you are… won’t you?”

He just can’t help himself.

[yinses]

—hawks ft. established relationship + dom!keigo + exhibition + overstim

rating: 18+ a/n: thank you so much to @ultimate-astridwriting​ for allowing me to be part of this collab !! it was the shove i needed to get back into the fandom. hawks has always been my favorite hero so i hope to do him justice.

➳ impatient collab masterlist

fist pressed against his cheek, he browsed over the sight before him, taking it all in without considering really any details. fighting a smirk, he cocked an eyebrow.

“i’m not feeling the color. change it for the other one.”

to be frank, he had no particular preferences for color, design, texture or any of that shit–though, he did have a weakness for anything with a pretty flare to it, the air of innocence that he loved to bathe you in with all the frills and fluff. however, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t fond of deciding which palettes suited you best. but he had a specific reason as to why he voiced that particular opinion of his.

sale’s representatives, all mascara-lined eyes and glossy lips, held your hands by your side  in a surrendering position as they paraded you in front of your boyfriend as though this was his own private fashion show. and in a way it was, he’d spent good hard earned money renting out the area for a few hours. enjoying it all from his throne placed perfectly in front of the changing rooms, watching how you were dragged in and out by the forceful employees with him picking out what items you wore.

the clatter of the sale’s girls dragging you back in the changing room again, drew him from his thoughts. you were a flushed mess, struggling to wriggle away from their sharp nails while insisting that you could walk on your own. overall, you'd have been rather accommodating to his whims. but you always were. and as such a good girl, he would reward you for it. for now though, he couldn’t resist giving you a mocking smirk when you tried to grab him and failed miserably at that.

back to the prison of hands again, he noted, as they closed the door behind them and made a fuss over what you disliked and what he wanted. as more girls pecked at you to stay still while they taught you how to wear the clothing properly. outside, keigo waited patiently for them to be done as his eyes travelled from one end of the store to the other, looking at the fancy lingerie and wondering what would actually be perfect for you. but then again, to be painfully honest, you made anything here look good.

and then there's also another fact that he had to come to terms with.

he liked you best without anything on.

with only your bare skin, lying amidst the fluffy pillow with silken sheets tangled around your body. legs demurely spread, hands placed above your head and looking as though you were begging to be dominated. that was certainly the very image of excellence that any man could ever ask for. wanton eyes, warm cheeks, slightly parted lips, panting–ah, but you would gasp wordlessly as he’d stolen your voice many rounds prior. keeping his eyes peeled on the floor, the man shuddered briefly and rolled his shoulders back to remind himself that he was in a store and any further acts of indecency would totally be out of the question. especially when he remembered how you straddled him last night, thighs over his torso. sinking in inch by inch, throwing your head back when he bucked up a bit too hard on you–

"mr. hawks, what do you think of this?"

there you stood, with your hands still raised again, eyes watering under the torment of these awful ladies. biting your lips with warmth tainting your cheeks, hair cascading over your shoulders and meeting the body that was hugged by a pair of lingerie. strapless and curvaceous mounds of yours, covered with a brassiere. a matching panty, complete with small laces forming gathers on the hems as they trailed invitingly towards to garter at your thighs.

he stared.

and blinked.

only once.

"sir?" one of the older females repeated, raising her eyebrows. "…what do you think?"

trying to cover up the fact that his awkward silence was making the room uncomfortable with anticipation, keigo casually leaned backwards and crossed his legs together. his wings fluttered in reflection of his thoughts, rising and falling with each new epiphany. dark eyes walked all over your body, drinking in how your breasts were perfectly pressed together and how your legs trembled when his eyes stopped at the ribbons of the panty. finally hovering over your face, where when eyes met, your blush darkened and you immediately dropped your gaze to your bare feet. he smirked at that sinfully innocent reaction of yours.

coy today, were you not?

without skipping a beat, keigo drew out a card and threw it over to one of the sale’s girls, who fumbled as she tried to catch it with her clammy fingers. eyes still locked at your face, knowing that with his stare alone he was making you feel uncomfortable. and damn, he still loved seeing you squirm around like a virgin on her wedding night.

"i'm taking everything that she tried on just now," he answered loftily, still seated on the cushiony sofa, leaning his head against one arm and letting the other one tap rhythmically on the armrest. when the employees all squeaked out a pathetic noise of agreement, keigo allowed his lips to curve upwards in a smirk as he drawled out the next order; "charge what you need on it, i don't give a shit. and oh, and don't forget to charge what it takes to buy this section for another hour. turn off the surveillance too while you're at it because this area's mine from the time being."

needless to say, their faces instantly decolorized. but they wouldn’t challenge his demands. the brief raise of his massive scarlet wings was an unnecessary reminder as they stretch languidly without threat. he was a hero after all. who were they to challenge a frivolous form of stress relief?

he had no doubt that they had an inkling of what would occur over the next hour or so. but he was certain the gossip would get lost in the rumor mill.

hawks was a rather eccentric individual. what isn’t he up to these days?

keigo had never saw the staff evaporating and clearing the area within less than a minute as they closed off the doors behind them, leaving this particular section untouched for the next event that was about to take place.

it really did not make you feel any better though.

"little dove."

he watched as you jumped, realizing his attention was solely on you now. you raised your eyes to his again, locking eyes with deviously glinting ones. right now, at this moment, keigo knew how much power he held over you, and damn well he was about to abuse his privileges to no end. leaning snugly against the soft backing of the sofa, he cupped his chin with his palm and arrogantly raised an eyebrow when you shuddered under his disturbing gaze. you looked much as though you were lost and backed into a corner with nowhere else to go. keigo smirked; haughty, superior, dominating you single-handedly, and his other hand rose slightly from the armrest.

a single finger curled inwardly.

a low voice

commanding.

"come here, now"

you knew what came from that tone, but the words didn’t ignite the same spark as it did within the safe space of your home.

you only hesitated briefly, but it was still a second to long for his tastes as his lips already began curling down in disappointment. your heart rapped heedlessly against your ribcage, sent spiraling into an off-beat staccato as you quickly tried to alleviate the shift in mood.

never in your relationship had you considered denying keigo. not the man who laid out everything you could have asked for on a silver platter. it's just that-

your feet crossed the minimal distance necessary to appear agreeable though your face still twists in concern.

“really? …. you want to have sex …. here?”

fingertips grapple anxiously while your eyes dart across the empty but still very publicly accessible room.

“now?”

keigo already look bored with the exchange, digits curling once more with something just outside of patience.

“yes, now.”

his wings flex in consideration, yet he doesn’t move to rise form his seat. instead he changes tactics.

“i just want to show a bit of appreciation for all the pretty things i just bought you.’’

it sounds backwards … as if those should be the words coming out of your mouth not his. but the hint doesn’t come any stronger than the easy grin that spreads across his lips. he even makes a show of lounging back against the cushioned seat, body open in invitation should you dare.

and bite you did, teeth nibbling at the bait as you approach. keigo remains still, though his eyes dance with barely contained excitement as you gingerly crawl into his lap, fancy garments already rubbing enticingly against his thighs?.

the flap of his wings welcome gusts of winds and gratitude as his arms curl around you. the hand at your cheek tilts your head up to meet his gaze. it was always so easy for you to get lost in those specks of liquid gold. but now there was hardly any left to admire with the way his pupils were blown wide with lunch.

a shiver tickles your spine and you’re vaguely away that he’s kissing the line of your jaw, whispering soft words of encouragement as his hips raise to rock subtlety. it all left you shuddering in peaked anticipation as your worries melted into the recesses of your mind.

the hand cupping the roundness of your face stops you before you can lean in for more, the nose brushing against the tip of your nuzzling there in brief affection as he garnered the fraying tips of your attention. “yes?”

the fog of arousal abated a little at the question as your conscious thoughts swam back into the surface to input the code that would spiral you into your deepest desires.

“yes,” you verbally consented as you leaned up into him for a needy kiss. keigo swept his tongue out, meeting the the soft upper palate of your mouth with languid strokes. a rumbling trill greets you when you nibble in response. keigo eagerly chases you into a fevor of song and dance, building your body up to the inevitable fall he plans to send you crashing down in.

when he breaks the kiss, his eyes drop to the price tag still resting innocently against the swell of your bosom. he snaps it away from the fabric, uncaring of the threat against its delicacy as he tosses the flimsy paper to the side.

there were plenty more where it came from. and he was yearning to get the real show on the road.

“now then. how could i possibly show my thanks?”

nails dig into his shoulders for purchase as you rock traction into the firmness of his lap. keigo meets the upward curve of your hips with a sneaky dive of his hand between your thighs where his hand warms the skin there. 

you expect him to dip right in, cognitive of the spare time the two of you had to play. but as a dangerous smile twists at his mouth, you realize this is hawks time, a reality that flows differently than everyone else’s. 

“trying to decide if i want you to keep these on or not. “ he contemplates aloud, fingers plucking at the elastic.” i mean it would be a shame to leave them out.”

you nod mutely, ready to agree with whatever favored progression. keigo’s gaze narrowed at the silent insinuation “what? you want to make this into a quickie? but we have so many outfits to try.” 

you already knew that, acutely aware of each and every article of clothing that had been zipped, tied or squeezed around your body. and you were grateful of each and every addition, would even gladly spend the next few weeks letting him fuck you in each variation against your shared mattress at home. 

what you wanted now was for him to come so that you could start that private show within your own walls. 

keigo chooses to go for an adorable pout, lips pulling on aged heart strings, yet managing to make them go taut all the same. he waits until your body soften from the tension, aiding the transition with slow strokes against your back and inner leg. 

“one pair.”

it’s your back that losses his touch in order for him to bring a single finger in front of your face. 

“let me ruin one pair with my come and we can call it quits.”

and you say okay. brining your pelvis back into an enticing dance as you meld that pout into an eager kiss. you were already dressed for the occasion and had all the tips and tricks in your inventory to help him reach his goal. one easy step and you could be on your way.

                                                   how naive you still were. 

eight pair now. he’d brought you near completion just as many times before halting the grind of your hips with a frown. he mad for a rather convincing curator, inspecting each and every pair of to the finest thread. 

‘too blue.’

‘too much lace.’ 

‘it just doesn’t feel right. ‘

‘why don’t we try something else?’

true to his word, keigo had been determined to find the perfect pair to meet him at the edge of nirvana, and dragged you from one painstakingly near orgasm to the next along the way. 

"stop."

you whimpered desperately, pressing your forehead against his shoulder as you forced yourself to remain seated with him throbbing deeply within you. pulsing, hot, too hot. scorching you inwardly and causing strange sensations to sear through your veins. his hands were still on the armrest, they were not on you, they were not driving you crazy with their constant teasing and whatnot this time. because he was not doing anything to make you this crazy when you were already this crazy for him. 

his lips smirked against the shell of your ear, a moist tongue peeking out to leave a wet trail. you fought every inch of yourself to stop your hips from moving again. because of his command, you could not move. you could not bring yourself to move. simply because it was his desire and you could not deny him.

"close?" he murmured darkly into your ear, wispy breath tickling your neck. making a sharp sensation run down your spine, forcing you to arch against him and pressing your bare breasts against his chest. he knew it, he knew that he drove you this wanton for him, all desperate and wanting more.

and yes, you were too close.

too close until one more move, he could make you topple over the chasm of ecstasy without even doing anything to you.

"hmm," he whispered this time, continuing his words with a foreboding edge as his lips brushed against your neck, against your ear, over your cheeks and teeth lightly nipping at your bottom lip.  making you try to kiss him, but he pulled away just like that and watched in sadistic satisfaction when you gave an exasperated groan. "i was too. and then i saw a pretty olive green peeking out of that pile over there."

there was hardly any vigor left in you to groan. 

you pressed your forehead against his slick neck, letting your warm gasps leave his skin, as your head desperately twisted in pinpricks of denied pleasure at his command. it was all a game, one that you could end with a single uttered word from your lips. but you’d never been a quitter, something keigo admired in you. his desires took you on erotic journeys you would have never dared to attempt in prior relationships. perhaps you were becoming just as debauched as he was. 

 there probably wasn’t even fabric of that color lying around and if there was it they weren’t within his eyesight.  keigo was painfully teasing you with this, building up your desire to the most desperate extent because you could not stand anymore. and he knew it too. he throbbed against your walls, the sporadic pulsing sending shrapnel of lust into your loins, and you told yourself that if you were compliant to his orders, then he would surely reward you afterwards.

he would.

he always did.

"okay," he spoke up again, pressing his cheek against yours because he knew that you had if he didn’t end it now, then he wouldn’t get out of it what he wanted. bright eyes were still glowing deviously under the chandeliers of the store, making him appear feral. it provided a visual desire for you to nip his ear, to lick his neck and to kiss his lips.

"you can move now, dove. let’s finish this and go home."

what an alluring goal that was, twinkling encouragingly from finish-line.

you gulped harshly, feeling your legs too weak to push you upwards again.  because he stopped you countless times and made a pleasure overload overrun in your body, turning your limbs to jelly.

a simple shake of your head was all the answer that you could muster.

it was either that or you would faint from the sheer ecstasy.

that made him smirk devilishly again when he looked at you, taut cheeks, lust-darkened blue eyes, a trickle of sweat running down his temple from the amount of restraint he was putting on himself. you felt as though you were opened, taken, torn from within by this man alone when he chuckled, pressing those sinful-stained lips to your forehead.

"maybe if you would beg just right, i’d bother to move."

whining, you shake your head as every cry you knew spilled past your lips. you begged, to pleaded keigo to move so that he would put you out of this torture.  so that he could make you reach that blinding bliss, that your nerves would tighten and your toes would curl. so that you would clench around him tightly, that he could come together with you in this passionate endeavor.

too desperate, nerves tingling with his every wicked command, your shaking hands slowly rose and cupped his cheeks, feeling his soft, flushed skin under your touch and forcing him to look at you in the face. your lashes falling part way over your gaze. plump, bitten lips drawing closer and closer and closer to him and closer and closer and closer with every second.  him slowly moving forward to join his mouth with yours in a desperate kiss, and you suddenly paused, letting only your lips brush against his, not moving forward anymore.

his eyes hardened when he felt your words form at his lips.

please.

it seemed as though playtime was finally over, for now. 

keigo adopted a fast and hard pace, thighs jerking up to meet your earnestly with each slap of skin. the force of his thrust jolted you into a haphazard bounce as you fumbled desperately for traction and stability. each pull and push of your joined bodies was accompanied by a tremulous whimper as you gasped and groaned against the shell of his ear. keigo knew the sweet vocalizations weren’t completely for his sake, but more of the aftershocks of the broken damn as they spilled through the cracks of your lips. 

he still hummed, pleased as his mouth latched onto a pebbled nipple protruding from the fine silk still managing to encase your breast. it was a combination of the gyration of your hips and his own weakening resolve that triggered his own orgasm as he finally let go with broken explicative. 

your own pleasure was brought to you without chase, almost a reward for your efforts as you withered through it. keigo’s quiet praises wash over you like aloe, softening the worst of the burnings sensations as your thighs quake in protest. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck as his arms encircle you and drag you down with him.

the already too small chaise had to be uncomfortable for his wings with your additional weight but he never voiced a complaint as the rose and fell over your sweaty skin. neither did you, despite the sticky resistance of his spent coating the inside of your thighs. at least you wouldn’t have to walk home in this particular pair. not that you planned on walking period as you grumbled a demands that he would be flying you both home. 

he snickers all while peppering a series of kisses against your nose,” anything you want, little dove.”

[thesmokingguns]

WAP Headcanon

Word Count:2726

WARNING: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18. THANK YOU. 

Warning Part Two: There is a lot of sexual content behind the cut. Oral Sex, Sex, Degrading, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Lots of swearing, 

Summar Request:”i was wondering if you could write a motley crue headcannon of them with a fem s/o that got that WAP lol�� I listened to WAP 700 times well writing this. I also made a playlist that you can find HERE

A/N: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READS MY WRITING! I appreciate you all so much and just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you all sending me requests and talking to me about fandoms. You all make me so happy and I can’t even put into words how much I appreciate the reblogs, likes, and messages you all send me. Thank you!

Tag List: @ayablackwood @littlemisscare-all @thenobodies-inc​ @agroupiewhore

VINCE

“I could make you bust before I ever meet ya”

-You met Vince well working as a lifeguard the summer before college

-He literally was so obsessed with you that he went to the beach everyday for two weeks until you finally agreed to go out with him.

-Watching you climb up the lifeguard with your little red bath suit cut high so he can stare at your ass bouncing with each step

-He picks you up in his sports car and literally almost falls on his ass when you come out of the house with a sheer white dress and white lingerie on under it.

-Teasing him all night so he feels like he’s going to explode

-Sucking your finger well making eye contact with him

-Reaching out to push his blonde hair away from his face

-Touching him constantly, in innocent ways to build him up

-Complimenting his lips and running your fingers over them and pressing a thumb against his wet lower lip and then licking it and dragging your lower lip down

-The sexual tension is so high Vince thinks he’s going to cum as he drives you home

-Telling him you don’t sleep with men on the first date and not giving him a time for a second date

-”In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya”

-He sends gifts all the time until you finally agree to go out with him again

-When he picks you up you’re wearing a fur jacket and a pair of high heels.

-”Take me to your house”

-Walking into his house and sliding out of the coat and letting it fall to the floor as you look over your naked shoulder.

-Vince has been with a ton of woman but you’re fucking demanding.

-You spread your legs pulling his blonde hair to your aching pussy pushing him down and watching him eat you like it’s a last meal

-He’s a clean eater, licking and sucking, using only his mouth to suck up your juices and suck your clit

- Keeping your heels on as you lay them over his shoulders laying back on bed

-Kissing your thighs after you cum and licking up your thighs tasting the wetness that leaked over them.

-Putting a condom on using your mouth

-Being on all fours, ass in the air, letting him go deep and hard as he fucks you

-The feeling of your wet pussy leaking over his balls making a slapping sound that is driving him crazy

-Loud and Vocal during sex, telling him how he’s fucking you so good. And Vince is eating it all up. He loves being praised and you’re stroking his ego like your pussy is stroking his cock.

-Switching positions so you can reverse cowgirl

-“If he fuck me and ask, "Whose is it?",When I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name”

-Vince loves watching the way your ass bounces and twirls on the top. He watches the way you pull up, lowering yourself on the tip of his cock and spinning down on his cock like you’re screwing it in tight.

-Skin slapping skin, wet slaps as you ride him, watching your pussy sliding out around his cock

-Telling him you’re going to cum again and Vince moving to fucking you with your legs bent over his shoulder so he can fuck you hard and deep

-Legs shaking, squeezing Vince as you cum around his cock

-Vince would be praising you as you came, so enamored with you and also feeling like he had reached some level of success

-His sweaty forehead pressed into your shoulder as he clings you you emptying inside

-You got what you wanted so you roll out of bed making yourself comfortable as you go take a shower, locking the door so you get your privacy. Completely throwing off this teddy bear of a man who loves cuddling and pillow talk after sex

-Coming out after your shower to a surprised Vince wondering why you were shutting him out after what he thought was great sex

-You tell Vince you’re calling a cab home and he’s surprised but you don’t sleep over guys' houses. But you know what you want, you got it and now it’s time to head home

-Vince is literally left speechless as he watches you put on your coat wondering if he’ll see you again or if he is going to have to keep stalking you at the beach

-“Will I see you again?”

-Shrugging as you get into a cab and giving him a coy smile before shutting the door and leaving.

-Calling him that night and letting him know you’re free tomorrow

MICK

-Everyone jokes that Mick is an old man but dude is seriously Daddy

-Like sugar daddy and gives you daddy dick

- “Pay my tuition just to kiss me”

- Always showering and lavishing you with attention when you meet up

-But whenever you meet up you know he is going to want too hook up in public

-He gets so horny knowing you can get caught and you do little things to make him go crazy

-Like wearing a little collar, that goes to the bondage set he bought, out to brunch with him

-Or when you go out you wear sheer shirts so he can see the outline of your brown nipples

-Sunday Brunch was your weekly meeting with Daddy Mars

-You’re outside, the sun shining on your skin. Sunglasses over your eyes when you feel lips on yours

-Mick is always just looking at you, admiring you.

-You’re wearing this crop top white peasant blouse that ties in the front and a denim skirt

-“I don't cook, I don't clean, But let me tell you how I got this ring”

-You met Mick at a bar one night with your friends. He bought drinks for you all night, and you made him laugh with your witty one liners. He had asked to see you again and that’s how Brunch started. He knew he was older than you but when he met you he had proposed helping you with school fees and you spending Sundays with him.

- Your foot slipped out of the sandal running along the inside of his thigh

-His eyes are dancing, loving how you know what he wants

-As you’re eating the sky is turning dark, warning of a summer rainstorm.

-the sky breaks open after Mick pays and you expect him to take you to the car to have a quickie or go to his house but he’s leading you over to the beach.

-As much as you like to tease him you hadn’t expected for it to rain so your thin shirt is completely translucent against your skin

-“Sit on the wall.”

-He sinks into the sand in front of you, tossing his jacket next to you, rolling up your wet denim skirt. Legs over his legs as he tasted you

-“Make it cream, make me scream,Out in public, make a scene”

-Gripling the concrete wall, he’s in front of you lapping at your clit as his fingers plunge into your wetness. Fingers working you with the same precision he plays a guitar. Curling into your core tapping the g-spot

-Head thrown back, rain water flowing down over you

-“FUCK DADDY!”

-People are driving by wondering what the hell you’re doing out in the rain because they can’t see Mick working better. Your legs are shaking as he holds you in place, fucking your wet pussy with his fingers, toying with your clit witb his tongue.

-“I’m going to cum”

-Mick moved a little, fingers going into overdrive as he spread you further watching as you squirt.

-Kissing your thighs as you try to breathe again after he just dragged out a super strong orgasm from you.

-Wrapping his jacket around you as you go to his car

-He pulls up to your dorms and slips some cash into the jacket pocket.

-“See you next week, baby.”

NIKKI

-“He bought a phone just for pictures, Of this wet-ass pussy (click, click, click)”

-Nikki just bought a new video camera and you’re going to be the star of his film.

-He has you posed, sitting on the floor with knees bent and legs spread naked so he could video you touching yourself

-You’re looking at the camera, not shy as your hand dips lower. You take your fingers in a V splitting your lips to reveal the juicy wetness inside your aching cunt

-Nikki audibly groans seeing the sticky sweetness in a glistening pattern across you

-It’s obvious he wants to touch you but he’s trying to record all of this.

-Holding your lips apart you take a free hand swiping a finger over your wetness and holding it out for Nikki to taste. His mouth  is around your fingers in an eager moan as he licks them clean

-The way he licked your fingers just had you wanting more

-You love performing for Nikki and driving him crazy

-Rubbing your wet fingers over your nipples, soft moans that cause him to curse under his breath

-Using your fingers to rub your clit and tugging your nipples well looking at him

-Nikki takes out his cock, stroking it as he’s watching you.

-You open your mouth, tongue coming out as an invitation

-He’s setting down the camera at an angle, gripping your head as his cock slides into your mouth

-”I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp,I wanna gag, I wanna choke, I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing, That swing in the back of my throat”

-He’s gripping your hair, compliments like “fuck baby” “so good” “take it all” and deep groans of appreciate coming from him. You’re drooling, tongue lapping to stroke every inch of him as he’s holding himself all the way in your throat. You feel your spit sliding out of your mouth, covering his balls as Wet gurgles of pleasure come from you around his cock

-Nikki tilts your chin up, “Eyes on me.” You look up, eyes watering and mascara leaking down your face from not being able to breath but you put on your big eyes good girl act

-“I’m going to paint your face in my cum, Princess.”

- Pulling out of your mouth and shooting his hot cum across your face, licking your lips to taste him as he grunts out as he cums.

-“Stay like that I want a picture”

-Nikki shuts off the video camera and starts taking Polaroids of you covered in his cum, smiling like the little whore you are

-He’s posing you, and giving you a towel to clean your face as he starts taking pictures of you on your hands and knees ass in the air

-“You’re still so wet for me.”

-You get on your back, Nikki covering you with his body, his lips hovering above yours. Your heart beating with anticipation and you whisper out a “Please” the smug smirk of satisfaction is illuminating his face.

-Nikki slides into you, filling you until you’re stretched almost uncomfortably around him

-Deep strokes making you see fucking stars as he holds your hips, letting you wrap your legs around him, and he fucks you

-”Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes”

-Your mouth is hanging open and you go to lick your bottom lip and he spits in your mouth, taking you off guard at the intimacy and

-You’re looking up, open mouthed and horny shocked that he did that.

-“Treating my princess like a whore. “

- You nod your head to let him know you liked it and you’re okay with it. The way your nipples hardened and you squeezed around him gave him the confirmation you were his little whore.

-Your wetness was coating not only you but Nikki’s thigh as it slipped from your body

-You opened your mouth to tell him you were going to cum but it was shut off by his lips slamming into yours. He knew our tell tale signs. Your arms holding onto him, soft mons coming out as you pushed into him, writhing in your orgasm

-”I’m going to fill you up, Princess.”

-Your head was nodding, his lips easing you with kisses he peppered on your skin, the way his pants met your ears before the groan and you knew he had finished.

-You lay on the floor for a moment well you both get your breath back. And then you head to the shower

-Nikki helps you clean up, his hands gentle on your shoulders.

-”You were so wet today, Princess. I guess you like being in front of the camera”

-Just hearing him says that just gets you started all over again and you want him again

Tommy

-”Big D stand for big demeanor”

-Can not keep his hands off of you

-You sit down and he’s either next to you on the couch of he’s behind you reaching ove of his freakishly long arms over to hold your shoulder

-This man loves you and is always ready to go

-At a show, he’s making eyes at you backstage before the show and you know exactly what he wants from you

-Standing next to a table talking to someone you feel his hands on your back squeezing a hip as he leans in to whisper to you, “Come with me”

-He pulls you into a dressing room and everyone knows exactly what you tw are about to do.

-Tommy is quick to pull up your skirt and he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, tugging your panties to the side and pulling a leg over his shoulder

-He loves eating pussy, this man loves sliding his tongue into your pussy, swirling his tongue around to get your taste on his tongue. His fingers pinch your clut rolling it in tiny circles as his tongue fucks you in little thrusts and than laps hungirly

-”Fucking love the taste of you, babe. You’re so sweet.”

-You feel like you’re going to collapse, your thighs are trembling and you want to cum with him inside you

-”Tommy, fuck me. Stop fooling around.”

-Do not need to tell this man twice. Very good listener.

-”I want you to park that big Mack truck, Right in this little garage”

-Tommy has you bent over the couch before you can even realize what is happening, his cock teasing your entrance, sliding the tip in and pulling out. Inch by inch he goes in and comes out until your legs are shaking, needing all of him inside of you.

-He knows there isn’t a lot of time so he’s slamming into you, his bare cock filling you after his teasing and groaning Y/N in appreciation.

-Your pussy squeezes against him, making the drummer curse in surprise

-He’s wrapping your hand around his hair pulling you so your back is arched and he can really slam into you

-Your ass is slapping against him with each thrust and you’re meeting him

-”Fuck babe, you’re so wet. Your thighs are like a fucking slip and slide”

-Tommy is more vocal during sex than you. He’s always praising your body, telling you how hot he thinks you are, telling you exactly what he likes, making little groans of pleasure when you clamp down on his cock, and just really making the whole thing feel good.

-”Stop squeezing me, I’m not going to be able to pull out if your pussy keeps sucking me in.” He warns you as you bounce back against his cock

-Tommy wants you to cum, you can tell he can’t hold on much longer

-His fingers reach around pressing your clit and after a few touches you let go against him, falling forward with a shudder

-Making you cum just gets this man even more fucking excited. He’s pushing deep into you, getting a sweat appear

-He’s pulling out, jerking his cock in fierce needy motions, shooting his load over your ass in white stringy patterns. Slapping your ass playfully

“Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me “

-After his boner brain goes away and he can think like a normal person again he’s helping you clean up.

-All about aftercare and making sure that you’re okay

“I said, certified freak, Seven days a week, Wet-ass pussy, make that pull out game weak”

[blrush]

If Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding was a serious drama with hour long episodes, Part 3: The Honeymoon Is Over.

Ki Wan drew back his hand. Why had he reached out to Ho Seon like that? What was he hoping to achieve? It must be the exhaustion getting the better of him – yes that was it, he was just tired. In the warm room, under the candle light, Ho Seon had looked so handsome, like a painting of a prince and Ki Wan had felt the urge to touch the painting, and check if it was real. But Ho Seon was a man of flesh and bone, who reacted, and it scared Ki Wan out of his reverie and back to reality – a reality in which he could not afford to make such careless mistakes, or let down his guard.

He stepped back and mumbled under his breath;

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay”, Ho Seon replied, as he brought himself to his feet. They stood apart, an awkward silence between them.

“Ah!” Ho Seon realised, “You spoke!” Ki Wan brought his hand to his mouth, he hadn’t even registered that he’d opened it!

“I’m glad.” Ho Seon smiled, “I thought you never would. I was almost wondering if you could!” He joked, relaxing them both.

Was this the right moment? Should he tell Ho Seon the truth now? The opportunity was presenting itself, he could easily use this conversation as a starting point…

“Come,” Ho Seon spoke before Ki Wan could make up his mind. “Let’s go to bed, you must be tired.”

Ki Wan looked at the bed, then back to Ho Seon.

“Not “to bed”, in that way, I mean to sleep.” Ho Seon assured him.

They were both already down to their under garments, and Ki Wan was tired enough to fall asleep as he was, even though the layers of bandage-like fabric were tight and constricting on his chest and he would rather sleep naked or in a light open robe, he thought that exposing himself was probably not the best way for Ho Seon to find out the truth.

He had never slept in the same bed as another person, and he thought it might prove uncomfortable, but he found the sound of Ho Seon’s deep breathing soothing, and drifted off peacefully, carefully curled up on his own side of the bed.

In the morning, he woke feeling properly well rested for the first time in years. He had never minded his room at home, and was always happy in his own company. But his room had been bigger, and colder, the only sound was the wind outside, whistling through the archways and halls of their empty home. He had no idea the comfort that a warm body beside you could afford. During the night, he awoke briefly, but simply watched the shape of Ho Seon’s shoulders slowly moving up and down and he was quickly lulled back to sleep.

Ho Seon was such a welcome presence, he emanated warmth and comfort. And whilst Ki Wan was still fearful of him discovering the truth, he felt a level of safety and trust already with Ho Seon. He began to truly believe, rather than simply hope, that Ho Seon would be able to accept the truth and Ki Wan’s reasons for his deception. He no longer feared any kind of violent outburst from his new husband, now - he just feared the look of disappointment that would inevitably colour Ho Seon’s normally happy face.

Apparently, even sober, Ho Seon was not easy to rise. He took an age to wake up, twisting and turning under the covers, grumbling and murmuring. Ki Wan found it exceedingly amusing, and lay happily under the warm covers for longer than he should – watching Ho Seon. Ho Seon eventually turned to face him, at first seemingly a little taken aback by another person in his bed, but then registered it was his wife and smiled – toothlessly, his eyes closing.

“Goooggmrrning” He mumbled. Then he opened his eyes, sparkling with mischief, and added in an overly formal tone “My wife.”

“Mmm morning” Ki Wan responded, muffling his voice beneath the covers.

Ho Seon smiled and gave a prompting nod. Ki Wan rolled his eyes.

“Husband” he added quietly. This seemed to please Ho Seon to no end and he smiled ear to ear, giving an enormous yawn and stretch before beginning to get up.

~ ~ ~

The next few weeks of married life passed like a blissful dream. Ho Seon spent most of his days studying, or tending to administrative work, whilst Ki Wan kept his mother-in-law company, doing housework or tending to the garden. Some days, Ho Seon would come out to the courtyard and set up his desk outside on the balcony. Ki Wan suspected he didn’t like to feel excluded from any possible fun they may be having.

Ki Wan found himself settling into a routine of family life, and he and Ho Seon would bid each other goodnight and good morning as spouses, but it felt more like they were children playing house. They both avoided touching one another, and Ki Wan still avoided speaking as much as possible without seeming rude. Though he began to relax, particularly around his mother in-law, who had insisted he call her ‘mother’, which at first Ki Wan found difficult as it made him sad to think of his own loss, but he eventually complied and it only added to the happy-family delusion. She didn’t seem to notice or mind his voice. In fact, she complimented him on it once, and requested that Ki Wan should read to her sometimes – a request that Ki Wan happily complied with, as he missed reading and studying, things which he used to enjoy so much in his old student life before his mother passed away.

One evening Ho Seon passed comment as they were getting ready for bed. Ho Seon was sitting on the bed, cross legged, expectantly, like a child would.

“How come you read to my mother, but you never read to me?” He pouted.

“You can read.” Ki Wan responded.

“Pleeasssse,” Ho Seon whined, “Won’t you read me a bedtime story? Pleeeaase? Wife?”

Ki Wan stifled his laughter, and threw a pillow at Ho Seon in lieu of a proper response.

Their comfortable pantomime as a married couple became second-nature, and Ki Wan almost forgot about the graveness of his circumstances. He knew deep-down this illusion couldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to shatter it.  Their bubble was burst before long, not by either of them, but in the form of an unexpected visitor.

~ ~ ~

Ki Wan often bathed at the house, where they had a big warm tub which the maid would fill for him, and that Ho Seon would use after him. But his fear that the maid may walk back in at any moment, or that Ho Seon himself might barge in unknowingly meant that bath-time became more stressful than relaxing, and he could never really clean his body properly as the tub was too small and he spent most of the time trying to hide his naked body under the water. Walking one day near the river, his mother in-law pointed out a gorge where she said there was a natural spring that people could bathe in.

“I used to take Ho Seon down here when he was little.” She reminisced, “He used to love splashing around – he was so chubby as a baby! Aiiguuu, you will have such cute babies!”

The topic of children did seem to come up an awful lot with his mother-in-law, though Ki Wan normally brushed it off by acting coy and shy about the topic of baby-making. She never pushed him about it or asked intrusive questions about the physical side of their marriage, but she did always manage to slide babies into the conversation.

One morning, Ho Seon announced that he had to go into town on some business, and would take a few hours – whilst his mother-in-law felt poorly and said she would be staying in bed to rest. After helping her into bed, and reading to her until she fell sleep, Ki Wan felt a sudden rush of freedom and relief – he was alone! He immediately rushed back to the bridal house, collected clean undergarments, and headed out for the spring. He left a note beside his mother-in-law’s bedside, lest she wake and panic – or worse, come to find him.

Amongst the rocks and foliage, the spring looked tranquil and inviting. He carefully made his way amongst the trees, down the steep incline. He removed his clothing, and waded in. The water was cold but refreshing, and he dunked his head right under. Relief and calm enveloped him under the surface. He floated around happily, washing himself and swimming, revelling in the peace and quiet.

He knew he should get out soon, as his fingertips were beginning to wrinkle, and his mother-in-law was sure to wake eventually, but he was so relaxed he didn’t want to leave.

Giving his hair a final rinse, he dragged his fingers through a knot at the end and turned to where he had left his clothes on the rocks. He yelped with fright, a man was standing above the rocks looking down at him. He lowered himself further under the water, covering his chest completely.

He could only make out a silhouette, a tall frame, an adorned hat – a government official.

He dared not move, he could barely breathe. He had let his guard down for the first time in over a month, and this is what had come of it! The man began to move, and at first Ki Wan thought he was going to come further down the rocks to the pool, but instead – thankfully – the man turned and made his way back up to toward the road. There was no way of knowing how long he had been standing there. Had he been watching? How much could he see from up there? Had he simply wanted to use the spring, seen a young man bathing, and left? Or had he seen a woman in a state of immodesty? Either way, Ki Wan told himself that the man was a stranger so what should it matter to him?

But what should he do? Grab his clothes and head the opposite direction? But he didn’t know his way around the woods outside the property that well, he really only knew the way back to the Ryu house along the road. No, he would have to stay in the pool longer and hope the man left. But there was no way of knowing how long that would be. He sat in indecision until he could bare the cold no longer. Shivering he clambered out of the spring and put on his dress. Struggling and rushing, his clothes were now damp and he felt uncomfortable. But the afternoon sun had moved beyond trees and he was beginning to freeze in the woods. He would have to head home and hope the man had left the road. He tied back his wet hair and set off.

Upon arriving home, Ki Wan went directly to visit his mother-in-law, who was sitting up in bed, sipping some tea.

“Ahhh, my daughter, come sit beside me.”

“Eomeoni, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, I’m fine. I hate wasting away the day in bed. It makes me feel like an old lady!”

Ki Wan cracked a smile. “Oh? But you don’t look a day over twenty-five!”

“YA!” She half shouted, half laughed. “Rude girl! I was a real beauty in my day you know!”

Just then the maid knocked on the door and entered.

“Ma’am, there is an officer here to see the young master. He has been waiting a little while near the stables. I didn’t want to disturb you, and I wasn’t sure where the young madam was. I told him that Ho Seon was away in town, but he said he could wait. Shall I put him in the guest room, or offer him some tea?”

“Ughhh” she harrumphed, “I’m not in the mood to see some stuffy old court official today. He can just wait for Ho Seon, he should be back soon.”

“With all due respect Ma’am, he does seem very high-ranking. And he is not so stuffy or old… he’s actually quite handsome.” She giggled and looked toward Ki Wan for some sisterly affirmation.

“Very well. Hwa Jin, since you are now the lady of the house, why don’t you go and tend to him. Just serve him some tea and make a bit of small talk until Ho Seon gets back. Oh, and then let me know how handsome he is” she winked.

Ki Wan tried to force a smile as he rose, but his heart was sinking. What if it was the man from the spring? It had to be, what other official would be out on that road coincidentally? He began following the maid toward the stables to collect the gentleman.

Perhaps he had not seen Ki Wan’s face? Who was to say he would make the connection that the person he had seen in the pool was Ki Wan? He had to calm himself down!

As they approached the stables, where the official was tending to his horse, Ki Wan was sure it was the same man. The same broad stature, the same high-ranking hat. He turned when he noticed them, he was – as the maid had claimed – young and very handsome. The maid introduced Ki Wan formally.

“Sir, may I introduce the Lady Ryu Hwa Jin, wife of Ryu Ho Seon. She will see to you whilst you await Master Ryu’s return.”

“Pleasure to meet you. My name is Kim Tae Hyung, Head of the Department of Justice.”

The maid gave a bow, and shuffled away, leaving Ki Wan quaking with fear.

Ki Wan gave a polite bow, then turned for Tae Hyung to follow him through the courtyard. Ki Wan kept his head low and turned away from the man, silently praying for Ho Seon’s speedy return.

Ki wan showed Tae Hyung to the guest room, a simple room with a large reception area and a small alcove for bedding to the side. They rarely used it, but it was the most appropriate space for the man to be received, and for him to meet with Ho Seon if it were for business. Tae Hyung sat down at the table, and Ki Wan waited silently at the door for the maid to bring tea. Ki Wan was on edge, waiting for the man to speak. But he sat quietly, and Ki Wan continued to stare at his own feet.

Finally, the maid arrived with a tray of tea, which she placed on the table before leaving again. Ki Wan took a deep breath to steady himself, then went about serving the tea. He focused on his hands, looking down at the table, he poured two cups and handed one politely to the gentleman. As he did so, their hand touched, and Ki Wan wondered if it had been intentional on Tae Hyung’s part – as if he was trying to incite some sort of a reaction from Ki Wan – the kind of small gesture that might fluster a particularly prudish, gentle, or chaste young lady. Ki Wan made no reaction, and sipped his own tea. Then he sat back on his heels, placed his hands in his lap and waited. All the while, repeating the same mantra in his mind; ‘Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back…’

“Unseasonably cold today wouldn’t you agree Lady Ryu?”

Ki Wan nodded.

“A bit cold for a swim, wouldn’t you agree?”

He knew.

Ki Wan was petrified, unmoving. What had he seen? There was something sinister behind his light tone. Ki Wan was sure he knew.

Tae Hyung placed his cup down on the table and leant forward. He brought his hand up to Ki Wan’s face, grabbed his chin and forced Ki Wan to look up at him.

Ki Wan could feel himself losing control of his fear, his neck and ears felt flushed, he was gritting his teeth so hard it was nearly audible, and he could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes. This was it, he was finished. This was not his kind husband finding out the truth, this was a powerful military man who probably had deeply strict Confucius values.

He examined Ki Wan’s face carefully, and looked almost pleased with himself.

“Hmmm… utterly convincing. But how odd. What’s a pretty young boy like you doing parading around as a noble woman?” He sounded amused, like this was all a fun game. Ki Wan was gripping his skirt tightly, and felt bile rising up in his throat.

Just then, Ki Wan heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the courtyard, and Tae Hyung calmly pulled his hand away – like he wasn’t at all bothered by the thought of being caught touching another man’s wife. Ki wan had never met someone so self-assured in their own sense of power.

Ki Wan heard Ho Seon enter the room from behind him.

“Ah! Kim Tae Hyung! I wasn’t expecting you. Sorry I had business in town. How have you been?” He sat himself down beside Ki Wan, and began to pour himself some tea.

“I’m well, thank you. I’ve been travelling the country on some royal errands. I heard you were getting married, I was so sorry I couldn’t attend.”

“Ahh, not to worry!” Ho Seon responded brightly, “It was a small wedding, just family really.”

Ho Seon’s exuberance and cheerful voice, which Ki Wan usually found so comforting, was like the sound of grinding metal in its contrast to Ki Wan’s mood and the tension of the room. Ki Wan was still fraught with anxiety and fear and felt like he was suffocating.

“I never pegged you as the marrying type” Tae Hyung began, “What changed?”

“My mother’s getting older, I guess she wanted a daughter to keep her company, and she was determined to see me settle down and have a family.”

“Oh?” Tae Hyung looked amused over his cup of tea, “Any luck so far?”

“Tae Hyung!” Ho Seon chastised half-heartedly. It was clear to Ki Wan that they were old friends, perhaps from school, Ho Seon’s easy manner and informal speech made that obvious. But Tae Hyung was fishing for information, trying to figure out if Ho Seon knew his wife’s secret – but his subtle jibes at Ki Wan were going completely unnoticed by Ho Seon.

“Tell me, where did you find such a beauty? I’ve never met another woman like her.” He looked directly at Ki Wan, with a smirk that, to Ho Seon, must have seemed like flirting – but to Ki Wan felt more like a threat.

Ho Seon followed Tae Hyung’s gaze, and for the first time since entering the room, finally looked at his wife. His smile quickly faded.

“Hwa Jin! Are you okay?” He sat up to attention. He reached across her skirts, and put his hands over Ki Wan’s. “You’re freezing!” He held Ki Wan’s hands tighter and gave them a squeeze.

“I believe your wife went for a dip in the nearby spring whilst you were out.”

Ho Seon lifted a hand to the back of Ki Wan’s neck, checking the temperature of his skin, he touched Ki Wan’s hair.

“You’re soaking wet!” He sounded genuinely concerned. But Ki Wan had barely noticed the damp seeping through his clothes. He was shivering from nerves not the cold.

“Hwa Jin, why don’t you go and get changed and get warm. I will get the maid to bring you some dinner.” He gave Ki Wan’s hands another squeeze, and prompted her to get up.

Ki Wan wandering aimlessly back to their bridal house as night began to fall around him. Should he have left Ho Seon alone with Tae Hyung, what if he told him the truth? What were Tae Hyung’s intentions? What was Ki Wan’s plan? He needed a plan. But he couldn’t think. He was still reeling from the shock of his encounter with Tae Hyung and as the night fell and the temperature dropped, he did begin to deeply feel the cold of his damp clothes.

He arrived back at their room, where he quickly tended to the fire under the house. Inside he lit a candle and began undressing. He hung up his wet dress and put on new under-dress. He was still freezing. He began to put on all the jackets and outwear he could find, then got under the covers of the bed.

Maybe he should leave? Run away into the night. What if Tae Hyung had him arrested, as a fraud or a pervert? What if he turned Ho Seon against him? But where would he go? Run away into the woods to starve or freeze to death? Before he could think of a plan, his eyes became heavy and he submitted to sleep.

He was awoken by Ho Seon gently shaking his shoulder.

“Hwa Jin. Hwa Jin. Wake up, have something to eat.”

At first Ki Wan thought it was morning, but the room was still dark and Ho Seon was still dressed.

“There’s some dinner here for you, you should eat something.”

Ki Wan begrudgingly sat up, his neck felt stiff and he was sweating under too many layers of clothing.

“Why are you wearing all my clothes?” Ho Seon laughed.

“I was cold.” Ki Wan drowsily answered.

“Mmhm”. Ho Seon nodded. He seemed himself. Not angry or scared. Tae Hyung must not have told him. Somehow, that make Ki Wan more unsettled. If he was keeping Ki Wan’s secret, was he planning on using it against him? A high-up military man, he could easily be the type of person to collect people’s secrets and use them to his advantage. This was Ki Wan’s crossroads, the illusion he had created for himself was finally shattered and he would have to make a decision. He would have to tell Ho Seon the truth.

Ki Wan starting shaking off the layers of jackets he was wearing, leaving a trial of clothes behind him on the floor as he went to join Ho Seon at the table.

“Wait.” Ho Seon stood up. Ki Wan froze. Ho Seon began approaching him.

“Your hair is still wet.” He said. Ki Wan sighed in relief.

“Oh.” He was still so drowsy, his limps felt heavy. He felt back to his wet bun – no wonder he had been so cold. He took out the pin and untied the ribbons. He rummaged around the dresser for a brush.

“Come here” Ho Seon plied, “You really need to eat something, you’re already so skinny – how can you go all day without eating. Mother said you were out half the day.”

Ki Wan sat down in front of the table and let Ho Seon take the brush from him. He slowly started picking at the food, but could barely stomach anything.

Ho Seon sat behind him, and began slowly brushing out his hair. It was a nice feeling. And Ki Wan almost began to fall asleep again.

“Tae Hyung spoke to me.” Ho Seon began softly. Ki Wan snapped back to attention, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Mmm?”

“He has a position for me in his department. He wants me to take it, and move to the capital.”

Ki Wan tried not to react. Ho Seon attentively kept brushing his hair, in long careful strokes down his back.

“Oh?”

“I told him I couldn’t take it. That my mother is too sick, and that you are just getting used to life here. But he said it was “of national importance”. I think things in the court are bad. He says he needs “allies”, whatever that means. I don’t want to go. I hate all the politics of court and I am perfectly happy living here. But he can be…. well, he is a difficult man to refuse – he’s powerful and … he said that it was really more of an order than a request.” He sighed.

“He said you would come with me of course, that we would be given housing at court. I am just sorry that you will have to move again. You just got settled here, and I don’t know what my mother will do without us – but she can’t make that journey she’s far too frail…”

He was rambling now, caught up in the rhythmic task of brushing Ki Wan’s hair, he was letting his own anxieties come tumbling out in a string of thoughts and apologies. Ki Wan had not seen him this anxious since their wedding night. He lifted a hand to stop the brush in Ho Seon’s hand, and turned to face him, their knees touching slightly.

Ki Wan had grown to love this space, their evenings together. In this candlelit cave that was theirs, where it was quiet and just the two of them. He knew he was about to ruin that forever.

Ki Wan took a deep breath.

“Ho Seon. I have something to tell you.”

TBC (Other parts here)

Authors Notes:

Yeah, sorry, trigger warning I guess? I made Tae Hyung a creep for added drama, cause every good Joseon drama has to have an evil antagonist.

And I hope you enjoyed my blatant references; to a certain natural spring in cloud recess and a little hair brushing reference to the gayest scene to ever pass chinese censorship. 

Hope you enjoyed!

[jaxsteamblog]

Jealousy

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

The next day, Katara and Zuko enjoyed their private access to one of the family spring bath rooms. The bath had that velvety feel that came with mineral rich water, and there was a thread of something more potent in the cloudy liquid, but it was ultimately comparable to tap water when ranked against her oasis. 

Feeling rejuvenated, and tingling with anxious glee about their interview being broadcast, they decided to take a risk and see some sights. As Zuko contemplated his itchy bandages for his face, Katara yanked a woven hat over his head instead. The wide brim cast enough of a shadow over his face to keep quick glances from noticing his scar.

“Is this really enough?” He asked as he settled into the wheelchair.

“Trust me, people are terribly afraid of invalids. They think it’s contagious.” Katara assured him.

“Hmm.” Zuko intoned, thinking back to plenty of instances in his life after the scarring.

The Misty Palms Oasis was an ancient marvel and had housed a multitude of communities in its history. Prior to the Hundred Year War, there had been some religious commune that acted as a healing sanctuary. At some point, that became commercialized, as the oasis could never be coaxed into sustainable farmland. The oasis turned into a bustling trading hub; the perfect stop to long, desert trade routes. 

The war disrupted that, as it had many things, and the desert brigands that had once been excluded from its respite took their claim. 

Avatar Aang had calmed a lot of the more unsavory traits of the oasis, but it never regained its previous, lofty reputation. 

Ivory tiled plazas marked out the spots for wealthy people, and hosted the simulacra of a spiritual well. But pockmarked about the sand dunes and low bone white walls were shabbier buildings. They collected tourists and travellers like the piles of red sand that made their wooden walls sag. 

Katara threaded away from those places, knowing that their small manners would invite the attention of merchants more easily than the curiosity of the more wealthy around. 

Still, certain walkways could not be avoided. 

The joyful sounds of some tavern spilled out in the morning air, and Katara yanked Zuko’s wheelchair back as the sound was followed by a stumbling body.

The man offered distracted apologies and Katara kept her head down as she navigated past him.

“Wait, Katara?” The man asked.

The breath in her lungs turned into helium and as she turned, it felt like she almost lifted off her feet.

“Jet?” She asked in return. 

Despite the setting and the noise, Jet was not inebriated; at least not so soon in the day. Whatever had made him laugh inside, or else propelled him out into the street, it lingered in his smile. 

“I had heard rumors, but I didn’t think I’d see a queen out here in the desert.” Jet said, walking closer. 

His skin had darkened, and Katara assumed he had been in Misty Palms for some time. He had not followed her, this was not intentional.

She didn’t know if that made things better or worse.

Zuko, still in the chair behind her, cleared his throat.

“I’m with a client.” Katara said haltingly. 

Jet peered past her and Katara shifted her weight to the side. He didn’t seem very interested.

“Can you settle a bet for me?” He asked as he lazily slid his gaze back to her.

“What?” 

“Are you really dating the Fire Lord’s son?”

Katara felt her mind stop. 

“We were just watching the interview and you looked so stiff.” Jet explained to fill her silence. “It just didn’t match the Katara I knew.”

“Well I’m not that person anymore.” Katara said quickly.

“Oh, I’m not so sure.” Jet said with a laugh. “The Katara I knew would absolutely be in the middle of nowhere, helping out someone everyone else has probably called a lost cause.” 

“You don’t know me.” Katara replied.

“I’d like to.”

“I am dating Zuko.” She stated quickly. “I just don’t like cameras.”

“I guess Longshot owes me some money now.” Jet said with a shrug.

“You thought…” Katara, confused, couldn’t find the rest of her question.

“Like I said, the Katara I knew has a thing for lost causes.” Jet answered.

“You weren’t-.” She cut herself off. “You’re not mad?”

Jet shook his head. 

“You’re not the only one who changed.” He said softly. “Peacetime wasn’t hospitable to old Jet.”

“Well.” Katara fumbled through her thoughts. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.” Jet cracked a larger smile and swung his arms in a stretch. “I’ll let you get back to your healing. I think you’re probably nicer to him with your bending than you were to me.”

He winked, changing the meaning of his tone, and Katara sputtered as he walked away.

Jet had guessed it was Zuko in the chair. Of course he had.

“Let’s go.” Katara muttered, turning around and shoving the chair forward.

“You sure you didn’t want to catch up some more?” Zuko muttered back.

She snorted, feeling her mood shift.

“Are you jealous?” She asked.

“Of course not.” Zuko snapped.

“Have you even been jealous before?” 

“I’m not jealous.”

Despite his claim, Zuko was peevish during their outing. He complained about the heat, the crowds, and the lack of mobility when trying to access various sites and shops. Katara tried to jostle him out of it, modeling increasingly ridiculous outfits and accessories. 

But her own nerves thinned her patience, and by lunch she was just as tired and irritated. 

When they made it back to their room, Katara darted immediately into the bedroom. Thin lines of sand had collected in her joints and ends of her clothes. She shed the fabric, but the sweat and sand clung to her like another outfit.

The shower stall was separate from the large, whirlpool bath, but it took up almost as much space. Tiled in sea green glass, Katara relished the cool ripple under her feet. Craving coolness, she stood under the spray instead of waiting for the water to heat. 

The bathroom door opened, and Katara kept from looking through the clear glass door as Zuko stepped in. 

His heat fogged the glass as he approached, making her aversion easier. 

“So Jet seemed happy to see you.” Zuko began. He was trying to sound neutral, or conversational, but it was like he had forgotten how to make that inflection with his voice. 

“Of course, I won him some money.” Katara said. 

“Did he look any different?” 

“He looked more like a guy closer to his thirties than his teens, yeah.” 

“Mmmm.” 

They were both quiet, and Katara started to thread her fingers through her hair. 

“I’m not jealous of him.” Zuko repeated. Katara didn’t reply and focused on plucking free a tangle. 

“I am jealous of his freedom.” He finished.

“What?” Katara looked up at the shower head, still unable to see Zuko through the condensation. 

“You know him. Maybe not what he’s been up to in the meantime, but you have a history. You could catch up over a coffee and it wouldn’t be this lecture of pain and trauma. 

“And just the fact that you could go out with him in the first place. But I have to be disguised just to go anywhere with you in public.” His sentences spewed out like steam from a boiling kettle, but it chilled Katara.

“History doesn’t always make things easier.” Katara said. “You can keep a lot of assumptions about people.” 

“Fine, even if it wasn’t him, wouldn’t you rather be with someone you can actually date?” Zuko asked.

“We date.” Katara protested.

“Barely. I think we-”

“We what?”

“I’ve never told you what that night was like for me. When I met the Painted Lady.”

They were quiet again and Katara let her hands fall down by her sides.

“Ever since that night, I was fascinated by Waterbenders. I spent months looking for the pretender, but only heard rumors. And even after the war ended, every time I met a Waterbender that was around the right age, I wondered. 

“By the time I met Sokka, I had given up. But then he told me about being in the war, about you being a Waterbender, and it shook everything up. I had to meet you. And when I did, I wanted you to be her so badly.” Zuko finally said. 

“Why? Love at first sight?” Katara questioned.

“Yes.” Zuko answered readily. 

“Spirits, how terrible would it have been if I wasn’t the same person?” Katara asked, slightly bitter and slightly unnerved. 

“You don’t understand, it’s because I fell in love with you at first sight. And I wanted some destiny to intervene.” Zuko said. 

“Oh.”

“And so now there’s two of you. There’s always been two Kataras. And I wonder if you and I are just meant to be a fairy tale.” Zuko said. “That’s what I’m jealous of. His freedom of being more rooted in reality.”

“I prefer the fairy tale.” Katara said, trying to sound prim but achieving something more acidic. “Plus, the ending is much better than the practical.”

“What’s that?”

“‘’And they lived happily ever after.’”

“Ah.” Zuko paused and she heard him chuckle to himself. “Got room in there?”

“I think I can manage.” Katara replied, assuredly sounding coy.

They could use the ever after to figure out the rest of their story, she was certainly in no rush.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

[senorarelojes]

Excerpt from ‘Your Favourite Slave’

This is an extremely belated Christmas present for the very lovely @pinksyndication. Since Mo wanted to take a peek at their present, I’ll post an excerpt here. I swear I will finish all the WIPs floating around!

Notes: Fantasy AU, themes of slavery/sexual slavery (but no non-con or rape).

. Alan knew he wasn’t alone the moment he shut the door to his chamber. He’d been on guard ever since he - and the rest of their entourage - had set foot in this foreign kingdom. There was something not quite right in the land of Essex, a seafaring kingdom that was rumoured to be established by pirates. The more Alan saw of the coarse land and even coarser people, the more he’d been tempted to head straight home to Londinium. But he couldn’t let his brothers and his people down; they needed access to the well-equipped, strategically positioned ports of Essex, so Alan had led the Londinium delegation here without a complaint.

Now, after a whole day of fruitless negotiating with the frustratingly tight-lipped Prince Martin, Alan just wanted dinner and a hot bath. 

The chamber given to royal visitors was far more luxurious than Alan had expected. Upon opening the door, one was greeted with a neat and cosy solar, equipped with a lush couch and an oak desk that provided ink, parchment and candles for Alan to do his work. The solar had a secondary door that led to the main bedchamber, where a massive four-poster bed draped in the lushest silks awaited him. The windows overlooked the sea too, which was a view Alan admittedly enjoyed.

Although there was no one in the solar, there must have been someone waiting in the main bedchamber. The air was spiced with traces of a sweet, musky perfume meant to entice, and Alan could see the flickering light of the fireplace already lit. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Alan stepped into the bedchamber, his eyes widening at what he saw.

A man was reclining across his mattress on his side, his head propped up with an elbow on the bed. One look at the man’s attire and appearance told Alan all he needed to know about why he was here; the man was dressed in white silk pyjama bottoms that looked soft to the touch, his upper body covered only with an indecently sheer tunic that left nothing to the imagination. Even then, Alan didn’t miss the black slave collar around the man’s neck. 

They’d sent a pleasure slave to his room.

The man raked a hand through his hair, which was dark as a raven’s wing. It was a nice contrast against his pale skin, and his lips were the lushest Alan had ever seen on a man. At this point he licked them, leaving them even more moist and inviting.

However, that all paled in comparison to the main focal point of this astoundingly pretty picture: the man’s eyes. They were a warm greenish brown in the candlelight, framed by a set of long, dark lashes and full, masculine brows. There was an amused glint in those eyes too, which meant that Alan had been caught staring.

“What is this?” Alan kept his face as calm and impassive as possible. 

The man shot him a knowing smile with just a touch of slyness. “The king sent me, my lord.” His voice was surprisingly sweet and husky, the vowels curiously elongated and rounded - typical of the Essex accent.

Alan arched an eyebrow at him. “Prince Martin told us the king is occupied with other matters.” 

“So he is.” The man stretched out on the bed like an indecent feast. “Doesn’t mean the king can’t make sure his guests aren’t well taken care of.”

“Is that what you’re supposed to do?” Alan washed his hands in the little basin with the jar of water waiting for him. “Take care of me?”

Letting out a dirty laugh, the man grinned at Alan as he let his legs fall open. “All that and more, handsome.” He patted the bed. “Come here, I’ll make you feel good.”

Alan would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He’d always preferred the company of women, although there were a few men who’d managed to turn his head. The man in his bed was leagues above them, in possession of every single attractive trait Alan liked about men.

Unfortunately, the collar on his neck reminded Alan that the man wasn’t in possession of his own free will. Alan’s brother, King Stephen, had outlawed slavery in Londinium fifteen years ago, but it wasn’t surprising that a kingdom like Essex - with a history steeped in piracy - would still be in favour of such an antiquated practice. In Alan’s opinion, sexual slavery was even worse. Forcing someone to warm your bed was a deplorable act. “No,” he said.

The man’s eyebrows jumped upwards. “No?” His mouth flattened into a thin line. “Does my appearance displease you?”

Alan couldn’t help his scoff. “On the contrary. If you only knew how pleasing you are to me, then you’d know how difficult it is for me to turn you away.”

The man’s face brightened. “So what’s the problem?”

Alan splashed his face with water before drying it with a towel. “I do not wish to force you.”

Now it was the man’s turn to scoff. “Believe me, mate, nothing about this is forced.” He eyed Alan with a slow, lazy smile as he began tugging down the hem of his silk harem trousers. “Just come over here. Then I can report to the king that I made you happy, and you’ll be in a good mood for the negotiations tomorrow.”

Alan flashed him an understanding smile. “I suppose the king wouldn’t be happy if I sent you away without...partaking of your services.”

The man shrugged. “He would be most displeased, yes. But you don’t have to worry about me.”

Alan had no idea what gruesome punishments awaited pleasure slaves who had not carried out royal orders. He didn’t want to get this poor man into trouble. “Look, what’s your name?”

“My name doesn’t matter,” the man said.

Alan fixed him with a steady look. “It matters to me.”

Surprise bloomed on the man’s face, followed by something that looked like curiosity. “Dave. My name is Dave.”

“Well, I’m Alan.”

Dave’s mouth curled up a little at the sides in amusement. “I’m well aware of who you are, Prince Alan.”

“No need to address me as so.” Alan gestured at the door leading to the solar. “I’m going to sleep on the couch outside. You can sleep in the bed and leave in the morning, if you like. So the king thinks you’ve fulfilled your duties.”

This actually made Dave bolt upright in astonishment, the sexy and coy act forgotten. “Wait-- you would let a lowly slave take your bed while you slept outside?”

“You’re not lowly.” Alan nodded at him in farewell as he shuffled out of the room. “Have a good night’s rest, Dave.”

As he suspected, the couch was far more comfortable than it looked. Alan unbuttoned his tunic before settling in on the couch’s soft cushions. He was so exhausted from days of travelling and the day’s pointless negotiations that he found himself nodding off quite quickly. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he thought he felt someone carefully draping a blanket over him.

When he woke up in the morning, the blanket was still there but Dave was already gone.

[junkyardlynx]

ch. 1

“Don’t you remember? You were the one that came up with the idea years ago -- if things ever got too fucking weird, we’d bail into the forest for a week or two. Reset our heads, unplug from the Matrix or whatever. C’mon, man. Don’t tell me you’re gonna bail on US instead. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

---

Pale sunlight filtered down through the misty branches, bathing the small clearing in an almost ethereal light. Morning dew glistened. Birds sung sweetly. The leaves and the eaves swayed and twisted to unheard music. This ritual carried on for thousands of years uninterrupted, a fresh and timeless dawn. The mountain air breathed sweet, as if inhaling it could remove all of one’s fears and anxieties, carried out on the carbon dioxide of hot, hot breath. The light of the morning disappeared further north as the canopy thickened considerably, devouring any remnant of the outside world. It was a perfect sort of darkness; welcoming and tender to the uninformed. In that isolated little haven, the sun and moon were equal, both providing just enough light to get lost by. Common sense would say to avoid it, but the allure of the unknown is often too inviting. 

Silas found himself at a crossroads, as it wasn’t only the allure of the unknown that beckoned him north -- it was the actual, real, written invitation he’d received in the mail some four days ago after a particularly long phone call. The postcard contained only two lines: a set of coordinates and the words “bring party favors. C.” Party favors. Right. Coy fucker. Just write alcohol, he thought.

This was the right choice. His boss would figure things out somehow. Prick could barely differentiate his left foot from his right, but that was someone else’s problem. For a bit, anyway. Silas was always the quiet problem solver, the one who fixed all the gunked-up shit in the background so the company could trundle onwards with undeserved confidence like there was never an issue at all. Thankless work, but it paid well and let him use his brain while staying out of social situations. 

Using that industrious little noggin of his, he managed to discern where to go once he reached the coordinates by making sense of the clues left by Charles. Thankfully, Big C had the good sense not to carve anything into trees like the destructive little knob he usually was. Instead, Charles left little crumpled up notes inside of brown paper bags. Things like childhood anecdotes, vague reminders of promises, shopping lists, all capped off with the next direction Silas should head in. While outwardly professing his frustration, Silas did have to admit the little game they were engaged in was fun. Part of him wondered if Charles did this for the other five people coming out to the Hundred-Mile Wilderness. Probably. 

Maybe it was all part of that unwinding, that unplugging, that escape they all craved in this crazy, pandemic-riddled year. The kind of escape that only truly fortunate people could afford anymore - the ability to leave your life behind for a bit without major financial or social repercussion. Acutely aware of his luck and feeling a bit of shame for needing an escape from such a cushy life, Silas picked up the pace, heading north, into the deeper darkness as if to assuage his guilt. 

The thing they don’t tell you about forests is just how fucking dense they are, Silas complained internally, wiping the sweat from his brow a his monstrous backpack’s straps dug into his shoulders. Though he was familiar with the forests and woods of Maine, the Hundred-Mile Wilderness was an altogether different beast. Perhaps some sort of Questing one. The waist-high brush and bushes popped up without sense or logic, gnarled roots erupting through the understory of the forest as if to trip up any unsuspecting hiker on purpose. Seeing any appreciable distance ahead was out of the question, so a careful trek through the trees usually meant one would keep their head pointed firmly at the forest floor.

That made the unfamiliar noises of the wilderness all the more alien. 

Squeaks, cracks, crunching, twittering, skittering, and most concerning - stillness. While everything might unnerve the invasive species known as human beings by virtue of sheer unfamiliarity, it also indicated a relatively peaceful time. True stillness was something to be rightfully feared. 

That quiet, that stillness was the forest holding its breath. Like a hero in a horror movie, stifling their noisy lungs so the craven killer, the creature wouldn’t catch them. The wilderness operated on the same logic, really. Something big and dangerous was skulking around, and it was best to make yourself scarce before you became a hungry bear’s lunch. 

It was nothing Silas hadn’t experienced before when hiking with his father, or camping with Charles and Samir. They’d usually just pack up any particularly smelly rations and give that patch of the wild a large berth, but the thing is? Those true moments of stillness were particularly rare. Maybe one in ten trips. 

A stillness had been following him for the last two days, coming on strong and sudden for a few minutes at a time. Birds would shiver out of a song, insects would find an excuse to stop biting for five seconds, treetop rodents froze in terror, and even the waving of the high, high branches seemed to stop. In those moments, it felt like something of singular intelligence and intent was drilling its eyes into him. 

For lack of a better word, Silas felt hunted. 

He did his best to shake that feeling, knowing it invited nothing but paranoia. Nothing bad had happened, anyway.  Best not to let it ruin his oddly good mood.

However, as he stumbled and  and navigated around a large, flowering bush of honeysuckle, all sound in the forest was simply...swallowed up. Even the telling clod of his own hiking boots striking the earth produced a startling amount of nothing. Confusion turned to fear, turned to agitation, turned to...laughter. That kind of manic, annoyed laughter that twined itself to the urge to cry. 

“Charlie! Charles! Big C! I fuuuuuuuuucking get it! You can stop bro! It’s supremely hilarious that you’ve been pranking me, but just come out here and give me a hug or something.”

A beat.

The empty forest produced nothing. No answer, no friend, no friendship. No sound. An ever-dying amount of daylight. 

A beat turned to two, turned to ten. Nothing. Nothing but an immense feeling of being observed, scrutinized, investigated, seen down to his very core as if there was nothing he could hide no sin no saintliness nothing secret from the watchful eyes of the world as it bore down on him with distinctly inhuman intelligence and intention deeper and deeper into-

Then, as if someone had turned the forest back on, birdsong filled the trees once more. Particularly fat and greedy mosquitoes honed in on Silas’ hot skin and with comedic precision, a squirrel tumbled harmlessly from one branch and down to another. Giving itself a momentary grooming to remove the debris it had acquired on its trip, it scampered off like it had a hot date it couldn’t be late for. 

“Hooooooooh boy. Maybe I’m going crazy not being able to say dumb shit on Twitter or something,” Silas breathed in relief. Shaking his head, he continued forward for twenty, maybe thirty minutes cresting over the small hill he had been steadily surmounting. As he did, an all-too-familiar navy blue tent came into view. Then a garishly purple one, a muted sort of beige, and an awful neon affair. If one had to take a local’s view on it, it’d be something along the lines of “goddamn city-slickers who mock camo even when used in an appropriate setting.”

Maybe. But they were his city-slickers. 

Abandoning common sense, Silas broke into a light jog. Slinging his massive backpack off his shoulder and holding it forward to act as a sort of counterbalance, Silas hurtled towards the camp. His speed proved too much to handle, though and eventually he outran himself, tripping over his own legs to  end his descent in a most majestic tumble-and-dive maneuver. Laying on his back, Silas’ mud-streaked mop of blonde hair partially covered his face, and it was all he could do to suppress a giggle as everyone in the camp ran to see just what the hell had happened. Six faces crowded around him, and they all seemed deeply concerned before Silas’ laughter proved infectious, and all seven began to laugh together. Just like old times. 

“Haha, ah, hey guys.”

“Hey, Sly-ass. Catching some Z’s already?”

“S-somethin’ like that, Captain Crunch.” 

Charles smiled down at him, a cast-iron pan in his left hand and a serving fork in the right. Without missing a beat, Charles speared a freshly-roasted sausage link and held it above Silas’ mouth. Leaning up just enough to snatch a bite, Silas rest his head on the damp forest floor, seemingly at peace as he chewed the fatty meat.

Yeah, this is what he needed. This kind of trip was the one that changed your life. 

[ladyg3m1n1]

Vandermatthews and their first kiss? Or maybe from Hosea or Dutch's perspective and their hesitancy on acting on their feelings

Sure! 

It was a relief to finally travel with someone in Hosea’s opinion. Dutch was a fair bit younger, but he acted so much older than his age. He was charming, handsome, charismatic. Charmed Hosea out of his wallet that’s for sure, then again, he did the same thing to Dutch. He smiled to himself while he turned a page in his book. He looked up briefly at the young man on the other side of the fire. Dutch was laying on his back, hands behind his head, his hat over his eyes.  

They had been traveling together for a few weeks, though Hosea wouldn’t deny he was somewhat attracted to him. At least a little, more than what was probably considered acceptable among friends.  

It seemed to blossom overnight, this feeling. A dull heat in his stomach, burning through his body. It grew more as he and Dutch spent more and more time together pulling jobs. The one thing that made it worse, was that Dutch was very openly affectionate. Nothing too obscene, a pat on the back, the way he’d sling his arm around Hosea’s shoulders after a job well done, or the way they’d sit back to back to read against each other. 

It caused a lot of confusion for Hosea. But he was able to choke it down enough that he wouldn’t make things awkward between them. Dutch was the closest friend he thinks he’s ever had, for a very long time. 

Sighing softly, Hosea closed his book tucking it away in his pack before going over to his own bedroll. He laid back and looked over at Dutch one last time and smiled a little. “Good night,” he said quietly and settled in. 

The following days would consist of traveling through the wilderness together until they reached a bustling town called Millerton. Hitching their horses Dutch looked around while he stretched. 

“I’m going to go case the bank,” he said. “What are you going to do?” he asked. 

“Not here five minutes and you already want to rob the bank, how about we take a break. Get a bath, eat, get drunk, then we can plan a heist?” he said. “What is it I keep telling you?” Hosea asked with a coy smile. 

“That I’m as handsome as I am stupid?” Dutch said nudging Hosea. Hosea laughed at him and rolled his eyes. “Or do you mean the other thing of I expect instant gratification the moment I set eyes on a mark?”

“That’s the one,” Hosea said his eyes still crinkled at the edges with his smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, old man, we’ll do it your way,” he said and tossed his arm around Hosea’s shoulders. He may have been younger, but he was slightly taller than him. Hosea laughed heartily leaning into Dutch briefly before pulling away to put an at least semi-respectable distance between them. 

“I’m going to the Inn, I really need a bath,” Hosea said running his hand through his greasy hair wincing a little. 

“Alright, I’ll head over with you and get the room. Then when you’re done primping we’ll head over to the saloon and not come out until dawn,” he said. Hosea’s smile widened at that and he fell into step behind Dutch while they entered the inn. 

The bath was much needed and Hosea allowed himself to relax and get clean. He had pulled a few clean clothes from his pack. A simple white button shirt and jeans. He put on his boots and brown coat quickly swiped his hair over neatly before he exited the bathroom and made his way upstairs. 

Dutch looked up when the door opened and his jaw dropped a little. It had been a few weeks since he’s seen Hosea look so handsome. He had to admit, the blonde cleaned up nice. He managed to snap himself out of it when Hosea dropped his bag onto the other bed in the room. 

“Took you long enough,” Dutch ribbed. 

“Yeah yeah, let’s just go get drunk,” Hosea said. 

It had been the first time they got truly drunk together. Dutch was obnoxious, but when he was drunk he was strangely poetic. And way to close for Hosea’s liking. It was hard enough to keep a respectable distance between them when they were sober. When they were drunk it was near impossible. Not that anyone was really paying attention to the two of them in the corner of the room. 

They left the saloon late, Hosea hanging off Dutch to keep his balance. Both of them laughing, face flushed with drink. Though Hosea would never deny the nice feeling of Dutch’s arm wrapped around his waist holding him up. 

Dutch practically tossed Hosea onto the bed falling over him laughing. Hosea shared in the laughter, putting his hands on Dutch’s shoulders to push him away only slightly. The laughter died down when their eyes met, the smiles slowly vanishing from their faces. Dutch was close, very close. Closer than should be acceptable. His breath was fanning across Hosea’s lips, his eyes darting between hazy sapphires and Hosea’s mouth. Hosea didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that the feeling in his gut had finally got to the boiling point he lunged up planting a kiss against Dutch’s lips. 

It took a few seconds for Dutch to finally respond. Pressing back against Hosea nearly climbing on top of him on the bed. Dutch’s tongue slowly pressed into his mouth, rubbing against his own slowly. Hosea moaned quietly wrapping his arms around Dutch’s neck tightly. Dutch moaned back, his hands slowly going to Hosea’s chest and started undoing buttons on his shirt. 

That had an almost sobering effect on Hosea when he felt those warm, slightly calloused hands on his chest. He pulled away putting his hands on Dutch’s chest pushing him away slightly. No words needed to be spoken, they both knew now was not the right time to go too far. Instead, Hosea moved over on the bed inviting Dutch to lay next to him. The younger man fell next to him, slinging his arm over Hosea’s waist and nearly passing out then and there. 

Hosea smiled petting Dutch’s head. This was the start of a wonderful relationship. 

[unabashedly-here]

A/N: The Tom Holland Royalty!AU with a bit of Fairytale aspects thrown in.

Part 2

Part 3

Excitement was coursing through the air as the royal messengers announced in the surrounding villages that the King and Queen were organizing a festival lasting three days. It wasn’t specifically mentioned, but the townspeople knew that Prince Thomas has yet to find a wife. They believed that his parents had set this up so he might talk with a few princesses that were invited.

The royal family was very closed off from the villages, excluding the King and Queen. Neither Prince Thomas nor his younger brothers have set foot outside the castle boundaries due to what had happened to the neighboring kingdom’s princess all those years ago. She had been curious and wandered out of the castle. Her parents searched every end of their kingdom, but could never find her. It had been years since, so the princess would have been Prince Thomas’s age.

The villagers gathered around the messenger and began discussing what they might wear or, among the younger girls, what Prince Thomas might look like. You, on the other hand, had no time to even see the messenger. If you were anyone else in the village, you might have been pondering over what gown to wear while seeing the royal family, but you were a poor orphan.

Without a penny to your name, you found yourself stuck in the town that didn’t seem to want you. They whispered terrible things about why you had no parents. You had been called a bastard child by a few drunken men. You were reminded of your lack of position, wealth, husband, and worth daily in the town. As you grew older, you were too beautiful to be ignored, yet with no dowry to offer any suitors, you remained an unmarried maiden.

As the messenger announced the shocking news, you were cleaning the house that had paid for your service. They offered you a little money and a place in their servant quarters for you. The family who lived there were not as cruel as the townspeople could be to you, but they knew the importance of reputation in the town. Even the other servants didn’t willingly talk to you, in fear that someone would see.

You had heard about the festival from the other servants. They weren’t talking to you, but you could hear them as you cleaned the floors. Most of them didn’t plan on actually going since they didn’t have a fancy gown or anything like that. After they left, you were alone with your fantasies of dancing under the colorful decorations at night. A beautiful gown adorned your frame, making people forget of your reputation.

Of course, the fantasy ended. You could never get a dress in time. Even if you did, you were sure that people would be embarrassed by just being in your presence. You always had some sort of dirt on your face, no matter how many times you washed it during the day. Your hair didn’t shine like the young girls in the village. Taking care of a house had taken its toll on you.

The first day of the festival seemed like every other day. You woke up before dawn to start your duties and made sure to kept your head down when you walked through the village. All the women of the town were preparing for a magical night under the stars while the men were working so their women could afford to dress and perhaps catch the royal family’s eye. Despite the distraction, some townspeople still took it upon themselves to remind you of your place in society by whispering among each other.

Each whisper made you curl up slightly more into yourself, until you could barely see where you were going. You just wanted to get back to the house and hide away. As you hastily turned a corner, you ran into an elderly woman and tumbled onto the ground, getting more dirt on yourself. “I’m very sorry, ma’am,” you immediately apologized. 

“It’s fine, child,” the woman replied with a shaky voice. She waited until you were on your feet to ask, “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the festival?”

You offered a small smile. “I’m not going. I haven’t got a dress and I’d make a fool of myself if I showed up.”

The old woman’s eyes held a mysterious glint in them and she smirked knowingly. “I wouldn’t be so sure. One must remain optimistic in these troubling times. No one knows when their life could be turned upside down.” With that, she excused herself, ignoring your confused glance. You turned around to look at the unfamiliar woman again, but she had disappeared in the crowd.

By the time you were done with your tasks of the day, you were alone in the house. The family had left a little while ago for the festival while the servants had gone back home. You entered the little servant quarters you got to call your own and almost screamed at the sight. Hanging by the window was the most spectacular dress, suited for a noble woman. It glimmered in the moonlight and you hesitantly prodded it, wondering if you were hallucinating.

The dress fit perfectly and was made of silk. Woman in the town would die for a silk dress. When you looked in the grimy mirror in the room, you couldn’t help but notice that wearing the dress had made the dirt on your body disappear. It was like you had a proper bath with soaps that you couldn’t even imagine. You could barely recognize yourself. 

After putting on the slippers that came with the mysterious dress, you heard a slight commotion from outside. You left the house from the front door to see a carriage stopped. The man complimented you on your outfit and hurried you in the carriage since you were “already late”. You were in an absolute daze, thinking that you must be dreaming. All you knew is that you didn’t want this dream to end.

Even before the mysterious girl appeared, Tom was utterly enamored with the festival. He was shielded his whole life due to the missing princess and he was taking advantage of the brief freedom he was granted. He loved socializing with the townspeople, enjoying the pleasant conversation that rarely happened in the castle. Wanting to interact with as many people as he could, Tom couldn’t stay still. That is, until he saw you.

You, in a stunning gown illuminated by the lights, had made Tom stop in his spot, gazing at you with wide eyes. He found himself slipping out of his cloak, displaying his family’s coat of arms. For some reason, he didn’t want you to know him as the prince just yet. There were two other days for those sort of details. Without another thought, Tom approached you effortlessly and asked politely, “Miss, might I be so fortunate to steal a dance from you?”

After years of being the dregs of society, you graciously met the man’s outreached hand and allowed yourself to be led out to dance. At first, you were nervous to dance, but if you were truly awful, the handsome gentleman didn’t appear to notice. “I do apologize if I’m not very good at dancing,” you mentioned with a slight smile.

“I don’t mind at all,” he answered without hesitation, “I’m willing to dance if that means I can be in your presence for the night.” 

“If I don’t find someone that interests me more.” You had no idea where this coy behavior had come from, but you relaxed at the man’s laugh.

“I can assure you that I’m rather interesting.”

“Then, interest me.”

You and the man danced for hours, while talking. For some reason, certain girls were glaring at their direction, but you ignored them, not wanting to even consider that they knew who you actually were. The handsome stranger surprised you with his charm and wit, since the attractive men in your town rarely had any intelligence to talk about anything substantial. He, on the other hand, kept you laughing, which had been foreign to you lately.

The festival was meant to go on well into the night, but you saw the clock and knew if you didn’t leave now, you would be too tired to properly perform your duties. Despite your wish to act like the noblewoman that you knew you weren’t and dance with the gentleman until the first night of the festival ended, you couldn’t lose the job you had. When the man left to receive a drink for you, you subtly left the festival in the carriage that brought you.

Leaving almost made you mourn the life you could never possess, but you reassured yourself that there were two more nights. Two more nights to enjoy yourself before going back to your tragic reality. Still, you thought about the handsome stranger that you had danced with. You forgot to ask for his name, but you also didn’t want to reveal yours, in case he found out who you really were.

Tom managed to find two glasses of wine and returned to the table where he left you. To his surprise, you weren’t there. You hadn’t given the impression that you were leaving so early in the night. Perhaps you were visiting the garderobe and would be back soon. Tom took a sip of his wine as the minutes passed by. He considered asking if anyone knew you when he realized that he hadn’t even asked you for your name.

After his father had found him, still sitting at that very table, Tom put his cloak back on, as his father had asked him to, and resumed socializing. Although he still found excitement from talking to people, he couldn’t get you, the woman who spoke vividly to him without knowing his place in society, out of his head.

[owlsshadows]

Day 4: Windbreaker (free day)

(rewrite of Chapter 31 – reversed roles verse. Since Zen, Kiki and Mitsuhide didn’t go to save Shirayuki in this AU, it’s only the two of them caught in the rain on their way home.)

 I wonder… if Shirayuki has fallen in love with you.

Most certainly not, Obi replies instantly, looking at his glass rather than Mukaze. I must admit, though, it’s flattering you thought so.

What about you then? Do you love my daughter, Obi? asks the man. It may be the alcohol, the good food, or the relief that follows the battle – he seems young with his curious green eyes, so young Obi almost forgets he is speaking to the father of his bodyguard.

I wonder, he says, looking at the wine in his glass. It’s red like blood, red like the skin of a ripe apple; red like the hair of Shirayuki. I might be.

*

 Why did he have to open his mouth to her father Obi cannot fathom yet it weighs in on him tenfold now that they are to share a room for the night.

If not for Shirayuki’s relatively fresh wounds, he wouldn’t even consider the option to stop so close to Lord Haruka’s lands for the night – he would’ve just galloped through the sudden and heavy downfall on pure willpower to the next big city. But she looks weak and she is shivering under her cape, and Obi’s will weakens when he looks into her hazy green eyes.

“If not for the rain,” he hisses under his breath upon entering the room, “this place would be empty now.”

“The inn keeper must be a lucky man,” Shirayuki says loosening her cape. “To have only one room left! The rain must’ve chased everyone off the roads!”

Obi looks around in the ‘only one room left’ suppressing an apathetic sigh. Not that the room is bad, it’s pretty decent for the price, furnished with separate beds, but it’s still way too small, considering how long ago was the last time he had a crush on someone.

“It must be a blessing,” he grumbles, watching in agony as Shirayuki takes off her uniform jacket, followed by her sachet and belt. Obi swears to all the gods he knows that if she takes off one more piece of garment, he jumps out the window.

“There’s even a bath,” Shirayuki says in a sing-song voice, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “It would be so good to go… but I’m worried they wouldn’t let me in the male baths,” she adds.

“Why would you want to enter the male baths?!” Obi asks.

“Oh, don’t be so scandalized, Mister. I’ve only been thinking about your safety. I can’t possibly guard you if we enter different baths…”

“Thank you for always placing my safety first. I was hoping that you got a better impression of me though, after you saw me sparring.”

“You are excellent with a sword, Mister. However, I doubt you would find anything convenient like a sword in the bathhouse.”

“Then, no baths,” Obi rules at the edge of his sanity. Shirayuki smiles, it’s almost coy, and Obi can’t get the idea out of his head what if she was pulling his leg on purpose. She can’t possibly know how he feels – he has mastered hiding his feelings after all, growing up as the bastard son of a king.

“We can still order some hot water up the room, for you to take a bath,” she offers.

“We can,” he agrees, more careful with his tone now. “But first, let’s eat.”

He knows Shirayuki would never say no to food. It’s the same, he thinks, like how Kazuki could fill himself until he got sick – once you get to know hunger, you will never forget.

He knows he is lucky, privileged even. Brought up in the court he never knew hunger, and thanks to his father’s teachings he got familiar with hunting and laying traps by the time he had to seek refuge in the forests.

Shirayuki, on the other hand, was forced to the streets after her grandfather’s death early on in her life – she had no means to support herself. She was taught by the street little by little how to survive.

Obi feels a pang of guilt for using her weakness against her like this, mainly in order to divert her attention from bathing, but Shirayuki seems to not notice his scheming. Her eyes sparkle at the mention of dinner.

“What should we eat?” she asks, excited.

“Anything you like. Everything you like.”

Shirayuki dresses casually for a change, wearing a simple dress and a shawl around her shoulder. The uniform may attract unwanted attention, she reasons, and proceeds to show him that she still wears leggings under in order to move around freely, only to be stopped by his firm hands and words.

They order way too much for two people to eat – or at least that’s what Obi thinks, until Shirayuki devours an entire duck, followed by some still steaming sweet potatoes.

“I’ll go take a breather,” Obi signals towards the public restroom. Shirayuki looks up from a pumpkin pie, eyes squinting suspiciously towards the door on the other side of the hall. “No one’s gonna attack me in there.”

“You can never know.”

“I can…” he starts, when he bumps into someone. “Oh, pardon me,” he turns, facing the young woman stuffing her face with grapes. Somehow Obi gets a déja vu feeling, after looking at Shirayuki eating so much.

“Oh my, a handsome man!” the woman closes the gap between them, pressing her soft breasts against his chest. “Are you free for the rest of the evening?”

For a fleeting moment, Obi is taken aback – he is reminded all too sudden of his years spent in Tanbarun’s castle, the fine guile of the queen’s maids, the sometimes open, sometimes barely-there invitations.

He is back to his sense a moment later, hands firmly against the woman’s shoulders to push her away when he hears an unfamiliar voice from behind.

“He’s taken.”

It’s Shirayuki, speaking an octave higher than she usually would, in a commanding tone he has never heard before. With her shawl thrown back off her hair and eyes half-mast, green sparkling deep behind a curtain of fiery red, she looks lethal and beautiful at the same time.

She looks like one fine woman, ready to take out the competition.

“Oh, is he yours?” the woman asks, pulling away from him in a swift motion.

Shirayuki doesn’t say a word – she just flutters her lashes and flashes a smile, and Obi has to make a fist to suppress a surprised giggle. She is an almost adequate actress.

“What a pity,” the woman sighs. “I wouldn’t mind joining in as a third party… male, female, it doesn’t matter. But you, good lady, are far too dangerous to share a bed with.”

“Am I?” Shirayuki tries her, leaning forward on the table – Obi registers late that the heap of duck bones have suddenly evaporated to thin air from in front of her.

“Oh, you are,” the woman says, turning back to Obi. “I would be careful in your place, dear Sir. She may be a bit too much for you.”

The image of Shirayuki fighting alone against an entire pirate crew flashes before Obi’s eyes. He snorts.

“She might be.”

*

 “That was one wicked lady,” Shirayuki says, wandering out to the porch of the inn. “Sorry for pretending to be with you, Mister. I thought her advances may not be to your liking. If I made a mistake…”

“You did well,” Obi ruffles her hair up. “You did excellent.”

“You know, Mister, you always put up a strong and brave front, but I think you should relax once in a while. If you wish to…”

“Shirayuki,” Obi cuts in. “I have been putting up a front and act strong to protect myself,” he says, drawing her eyes to his. “But when I’m around you, I don’t need any kind of defense.” Shirayuki’s eyes widen, her face an epitome of surprise.

“You think so?” she glances up at him, doubtful.

“Or at least that’s the kind of feeling I get,” he adds, suddenly shy. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have let myself to be found stuck on top of an inn on our way to see Raji.”

It takes a moment, two, three. The disbelief slowly melts from her face, replaced by a soft smile, widening gradually into a full grin, evolving into a bubbling laughter.

Obi is torn between being hurt and enamored.

“Was that funny to you? It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“I wonder why I’m laughing,” she says, tears sparkling in her eyes as she looks up at him.

“You remembered me on the roof, didn’t you?”

“I might have,” she admits. “But look, the rain stopped.”

“It’s still cloudy and windy though,” he says, noticing the unmistakable shiver she pulls her shawl closer around her shoulders.

“You should return to the room, Mister,” she says then. “I’m pretty sure that the staff has already brought up the water for your bath. I’ll wait for you down in the hall. Shout should you need anything.”

The sudden change of Shirayuki’s behavior doesn’t go unnoticed – from willing to accompany him to the male baths to letting him back in the inn alone, it’s quite a U-turn. She wants him away from her, away from the entrance or probably the outside, which could mean one thing, Obi is quick to deduct – danger.

He smiles at her, patting her hair softly.

“I’ll go first then,” he says, promptly trotting through the arcades leading to the inside, only to slip behind the last column before the front door. His heart beats in his throat – it’s been ages since he last played hide and seek, back in the days Raji accompanied him on his trips to steal the fresh pie from the kitchen, but the thrill of it is familiar.

He slides his hand along the rough stone blocks, peeking over the edge.

With a sudden gush of the wind, the young woman materializes right behind Shirayuki, seemingly out of thin air.

“Well, well. Look what washed in with the rain,” she says, dropping her seductive tone from the dining hall entirely. “You’ve changed, Shirayuki.”

The assassin turns in her way, smile visible on her face even from afar.

“In what way?” she asks.

“The man you’re with looked like a respectable citizen. Is he your current employer? Lover?” the woman steps closer.

“In a way,” Shirayuki says, stepping sideways, dancing out of her reach. “You could say we are inseparable.”

“Oh, surprising,” the woman says, moving forward sharply with a kick.

Obi can hardly follow their fight; they are too fast. He closes his hand in a fist ready to fly in between them – the stiches in Shirayuki’s sides are still relatively fresh, and he wishes for nothing less, but them to reopen – when with a smooth movement Shirayuki topples her attacker, skirt flying high in the air revealing her legs clad in skin tight leggings.

“You’ve still got it, don’t you?” the other woman asks, pleased. “Can you help me out with a little job?”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Shirayuki says. “I’ve had a bad feeling since we’ve met back in the dining hall.”

“It’s been three years since we saw each other. You should’ve been hoping for a romantic tryst.”

“Oh, is that how you felt about me? I would’ve guessed you saw me as a rival,” Shirayuki says, rolling off of the woman.

“Can’t one fall for their rival?”

“One can. But would you?”

“If I were in love with you, you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Thought so,” Shirayuki says with a smile while the woman stands and dusts her clothes off. “Unfortunately, as happy as I am to have this reunion, I have to refuse your invitation.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not doing gigs anymore, Tooru.”

Obi is not sure whether it’s her posture, her small frame in the light of the lanterns hung above the porch or the way her hair stills with the wind – she looks calm, like never before.

“Oh, you’ve really changed,” the woman says, peeking over her shoulder. “What did you do with the original Shirayuki?”

“The original? Do you think you knew the original?”

“I really don’t understand you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Is it good, staying with that man?”

There’s a second of pause, while Shirayuki looks up at the dark sky, start hidden by the clouds.

There’s a second of pause, and Obi catches himself holding his breath.

Shirayuki lets out a snort, short but playful.

“He’s handsome, didn’t you say?”

Separate beds, Obi reminds himself. Separate beds and fresh wounds.

[heartofcenterville]

You’re such a bad liar - Dean Ambrose.

Summary: I’ve been umming and ahhing about writing something and posting it on tumblr, but my best friend (@wrasslin-rollins) has convinced me to do it. So, here goes nothing. Just some Shield Dean drabble I thought I would try out.

Characters: Dean Ambrose x Reader.

Warnings: None. Just a small hint of smut.  

“Answer me this, why do The Shield get away with so much shit they do?” I asked John as I shook my head at the TV. Yet again, the so called Hounds of Justice were beating down another superstar. 

‘You know why” John reminded me, raising his eyebrows. 

‘I swear this whole Best for Business garbage is getting on my last nerve. There’s been you, Randy Orton, Daniel Bryan, The Undertaker even The Rock they have gotten away with beating up!” I sighed exasperated at the sheer level of disrespect the three members of The Shield showed for everyone else. 

“They got away with taking you down! You’re Super Cena” I muttered. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with Punk” He jibed rolling his eyes at me. 

‘But incase you forgot, you’ve actually got to go and interview The Shield, like now’ John reminded me, ushering me towards the door. Damn my job. Don’t get me wrong, I love interviewing the superstars, just not The Shield. I sighed as I left John and headed down the hallway. I headed down to the spot where the interview was going to take place. I had to psyche myself up for this interview. Speaking to The Shield was something else. I heard voices coming towards me and someone from behind the camera gave me the signal as they reached my side. 

“Ladies and Gentleman please welcome my guests at this time, The Shield” I attempted my brightest voice possible as Roman Reigns loomed over me. 

“Roman Reigns, you just went up against the worlds strongest man Mark Henry-” I started but was rudely cut off by the most arrogance man I’d ever come across, Dean Ambrose. 

“Mark Henry, got what he deserved. He was getting too brave and we shut him down” Dean grinned as he shot me a look. His presence put me on edge. 

“Excuse me? WE? I think you’ll find I put an end to Henry’s bravery” Roman interjected and he wasn’t wrong. It was Roman who won the match, Dean was the one who attacked Mark afterwards with the aid of Seth Rollins. 

“Hey, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that Mark Henry won’t be getting involved in The Shield’s business again. Anymore questions, sweetheart?” Seth leered at me as he folded his arms across his chest. I let the patronizing remark go as I asked my next question. 

“Are you all going to stay on the same page when it comes to the Royal Rumble which is happening in a couple of weeks?” This question wasn’t on the agenda but why not throw some spanners in the works? 

“The Shield is a highly crafted machine and it’s the other 27 superstars that need to worry about us” Dean leaned into me, his arm touching mine. 

“Really? Are you all on the same page though Dean? I mean would you throw Roman Reigns over the top rope if you had to?” I quizzed him, feeling a smirk spreading on my lips. 

‘Nice try darlin, I see what you’re doing here but it aint going to work. We are a tightly knit unit and nothing will get inbetween us” Dean had bent down and was now eye level with me. Stupidly, I could feel blush in my cheeks. I turned my head away as Roman spoke. 

“You can believe in that and believe in The Shield” As soon as the camera man yelled cut I scooted away from all three of them. But, I’d gained an unwanted follower. 

“You could have tried a little harder to look more pleased about interviewing us” I paused at the sound of Dean’s voice. I took a deep breath before turning around slightly. 

“I would have, but the truth is I just don’t like you” I shrugged, trying my hardest to play it cool. He was an asshole and Dean truly enjoyed playing on that. 

“Ouch” Dean mocked, placing his hand over his heart. 

“Is that anyway to talk to your United States Champion?” He asked, as he tapped at the title around his waist. 

“I can’t wait until someone takes that off you” I informed him with a smile. 

“On the contrary, no-one could and nobody will take this from me. Unless, that’s a challenge from you?” Dean mused, his lips twitching into a smirk. 

“In your dreams Ambrose” I shook my head at him. Unbelievable. 

“Oh, I can assure you it will be. I’ll be seeing you around, darlin’ Dean blew me a kiss and walked away without a single look back. I stood there, blinking trying to process what he had said. This was an interesting turn of events. 

--

For the last two weeks Dean had been cornering me after the interviews I’d done with The Shield. It was getting to the point I’d warned him I would get a restraining order which he found and I quote ‘adorable’ which just annoyed me, which is what he had counted on. Dean was a 100% sure I found him attractive and he was not letting that go. He was a smug ass. I did not find the guy attractive at all. I shook my head as I got up off my bed and trudged to the bathroom. One more night in this hotel and then tomorrow we were off to another city. I was shimmied out of my clothes and put a bath robe on as I ran the bath. I just wanted some relaxing time. But that was interrupted by a knock at my door. I frowned to myself wondering who it could be. John was out on a date with Nikki, Brie and Daniel were late night working out and Punk was watching re-runs of all his ridiculous TV shows. I headed over to the door, opened it and was completely stunned at who was standing there. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed, shock coating my tone. Dean pushed me into my room, closing the door behind him, 

“Oh, come on. Don’t act surprised’ Dean raised his eyebrows. 

“You’re the one who invited me here, so don’t act coy”

“What are you talking about Ambrose?” Invited him here? Was he actually crazy? Dean waved in his phone in front of me, a clear message displayed there, a message signed by me. I shook my head, impossible. I quickly searched the room but didn’t come across my phone. Then it hit me. Earlier, I’d bumped into Nikki and... I hadn’t seen my phone since. 

“Damn it, she’s sneaky” I glanced up at Dean, who was leaning up against the door, an amused expression on his face as he watched me. 

“I didn’t message you. Nicole did. She swiped my phone earlier. So, you don’t have any real reason to be here” I informed him, trying to move around him to open the door so he could get his ass out of here. But, did he move? No. 

“You can’t deny how you feel for me” Dean murmured. 

“This again, really?” I didn’t get chance to tell him for the 100th time that I didn’t find him attractive but I was cut off with a rough kiss. And guess what? I didn’t fight him off. The diva in me was cussing that I was so weak and gave into the damn kiss. I guess I was a bad liar. Dean finally pulled away and he had a stupid ass grin on his face. 

“Don’t let your arrogance ruin it. Shut up and kiss me again” I breathed, yanking him into me again. Dean snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. The kiss got deeper as Dean hands hungrily roamed under my shirt. He wasted no time by almost throwing me onto the bed as he tossed his shirt onto the floor. Man, he was hot. Our bodies entangled together, hot kisses and desperate clawing at each other. I was mad for actually going through with this. But, come on. Who wouldn’t want hot sex with Dean Ambrose? I’d been kidding myself for so long. I was such a weak person but I couldn’t dwell on my fading morals any longer as the rest of Dean’s clothes went and the rest of my rational thinking dissolved.