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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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can you write some headcanons for smoke (tomas vrbada) from mk1? there’s barely anything on tumblr for him😭

HEADKANONS | TOMAS VRBADA - SMOKE MK1

TW: SFW, NSFW Headcanons, AFAB Anatomy, Husband!Tomas.

A/N: thanks for the idea anon<3 I miss this big guy on tumblr, Tomas my love deserves more attention.

He is the shy type, a loving, passionate and gentle lover, even with his most serious exterior he melts in your arms.

Tomas loves just being at home with you, especially if you are married - whether it is an arranged marriage or a spontaneous marriage - he likes you, if it is an arranged marriage he will be shy to even talk to you, but he will do his best to being a good husband, respecting your limits, remembering important dates like your birthday - he even saves money to buy something you really want and makes dinner for you -

He is the type that will want to be your safe haven, if you live in the same house with him, you will take care of the house while he goes out to work with the Liu Kuei clan, but if you want to work for him that's fine, but he You will be reluctant at first for fear of being hurt in some way.

Tomas doesn't allow you to be close to Bi Han, don't take him the wrong way, he's just afraid because he knows his brother, Bi Han doesn't like anyone and probably if you and Tomas are married by arrangement, it was the grandmaster himself who forced him both to get married, as a form of "humiliation" for Vrbada, but it had the opposite effect, he was happy to have someone like you.

He's the type who only talks if you talk to him, he's always been like that, sometimes if you get too distracted he'll even forget that Tomas is at home, getting scared when you turn around and see him at the kitchen table, cutting his teeth vegetables for dinner for both of you.

On his days off from the clan, he likes to just spend time with you, watching movies, taking care of the house - mowing the grass, reading some books, practicing some new moves or, if you want, sex all day long, oral, anal, vaginal , whatever you want and order he will do to you, do you want him to fuck you from the outside? He goes. Do you want him to fuck you with his dick all over the house? He goes. Do you want to suck his dick? He'll let you stand between his legs until you're satisfied - he loves your blowjobs, especially if you pay attention to his balls, even if he's too shy to talk.

Tomas has a twenty centimeter dick, thick, slightly bent to the right with two thick veins that stand out on the sides, which pulsate extremely when he is hard. The color is pink at the tip going halfway, he is very sensitive - he gets hard with practically anything you do, even cumming in his pants if you tease him, especially if you masturbate him through the fabric, he whimpers and begs to cum, begging for your pussy, mouth, breasts anything, he just needs your body connected to his-

He values your pleasure first, but sometimes he can't hold back, cumming before you do, he's embarrassed, blushing while apologizing to you, but he won't stop trying to make you cum, he has so much repressed lust :( Tomas will continue to have a hard-on even after the first orgasm, that is, he will make you cum, whether with his dick, mouth, fingers or taking turns between the three, after all, it's your pleasure that matters to him.

He loves fingering you, always paying attention to your clit, he knows the right spots, where to touch, where to massage and how to massage - Tomas will finger you with both fingers, using his thumb to pay attention to your throbbing bud, while you praised him for holding his fingers so well - Example:

"-Good boy | Good girl"

"-Pretty little doll"

"-Babydoll"

"-Little prince | Little princess"

"-Sweetheart"

"-My angel"

"-My boy | My girl"

"-Mine, mine alone"

"-You've done well/a good job my love."

"-You're making me really happy right now baby."

"-Fuck that's it, I know you can take it all."

Cowgirl - Tomas likes to see you in control, your pleasured face bouncing on his dick, as he watches your pussy being impaled by his dick, Vrbada's strong hands on your waist, squeezing the soft flesh of your body as he watches your breasts jump with each movement, he helps you by praising you and moaning to let you know that he is loving it, he is also quite vocal, you can see Tomas' face contorting with pleasure, his worked muscles trembling with each ride of your pussy tight on him, just keep enjoying yourself on his dick as he praises you for being so good for him as he cums inside your pussy with a guttural moan.

Reverse cowgirl - Vrbada loves seeing your ass bouncing on his crotch, how your back and waist look so delicate while your pussy swallows him greedily, he tries to be a gentleman with you but loses control, holding your ass tightly , slapping and fucking you at his pace.

Missionary - He loves this position because he can look at you, every reaction of pleasure, every time his cock slips out of your pussy, every time you moan when he pushes his thick shaft into your uterus, he always captures your pleasure, praising you and talking looking into your eyes how beautiful you are, while kissing you on your neck, breasts, face,lips, placing his forehead on yours while closing his eyes or looking down, seeing your wet intimacies, he loves seeing your full belly, with a slight elevation caused by his seed - he loves making a good creampie, taking his fingers up yours sensitive hole and dirtying the tips, rubbing it on your lips while he made you taste his cum.

Bonus: The only time you saw him angry was when Bi-Han betrayed him and Kuai Liang, he arrived at your house, an aura of anger and black smoke surrounding him tightly, you didn't even have time to ask. Tomas's anger and frustration seemed to radiate from him as he entered the room, his emotions practically palpable. Without saying a word, he took off his mask and kissed you fiercely, his desperation and anger evident in his actions. As he rubbed his hard cock against your body, you could feel the intensity of his emotions swirling between you. It was clear that he intended to release his anger through fucking, and you were more than willing to be his outlet. His grip tightened around your waist as he turned you around, removing your shorts and exposing your delicate pussy. With one hand, he easily trapped his legs, holding you in place as he ravished you with an almost primal intensity. "-Fucking Bi-Han." -Tomas growled, his voice mixed with anger and frustration. "-He betrayed us, son of a bitch, our father would be so disappointed... he was always so cold to me... shit shit, I thought he was my brother." As he continued to thrust into your pussy, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful, he tore off your shirt, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. The sight of your bare flesh only intensified his need, your lewd growls echoing through the room, he pushed his fingers into your mouth making you suck on them. "-Take my fingers, my dirty little slut" -ordered Tomas, his voice dripping with dark desire. "-Suck them, show me how eager you are to please me." With each strong thrust, Tomas vented his anger on your poor pussy.

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fixfoxnox · 2 years ago

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Letters To Love - Part 4

Word Count: 9.1k

Description: Soap and Roach attend a banquet and take one step forward in dealing with Makarov, only to be forced to take one step back.

Warnings: Semi-NSFW (heavy kissing, light petting, dirty thoughts), Roach gets called a whore, dub-con implied/mentioned

Two Weeks Before The Wedding

"I can't do this, I won't do this!"

Roach stormed past his mother, anger burning through his chest. He was practically seething and all he could think was that he should have seen something like this coming. He should have known that Makarov had something planned. He'd been too quiet.

Roach had only seen him briefly since that day he'd been cornered in his room, since the moment that he'd felt overwhelming anxiety and fear burn through him. The past few weeks had been blessedly quiet. Things had been practically perfect.

He'd spent them tucked at Soap's side, taken on frequent dates and getting to know the man that he was now sure would one day be his husband. It had been a breath of fresh air for Roach. A period of complete calm and happiness that he wasn't sure he'd ever had the privilege of before.

Makarov had been breathing down his neck since they were children. He'd always had his eyes on him, he'd always been watching him. And finally, finally, Roach had a break from the man. Finally, it seemed that he would get to be happy.

He'd let the thought of Makarov slip from his mind as he enjoyed walks through the garden, nature rides, picnics, trips into town, and frequent visits to Soap's camp outside of the city. It had all been perfect. Soap was...god he was incredible.

The man was kind and he made Roach laugh. Not the fake little laughs he would give to Makarov and other nobles he interacted with, but a real laugh. A laugh that pulled its way from his throat and forced the air from his lungs so violently that tears would pull to his eyes.

He was clever in a way that Roach had never seen before and he couldn't stop himself from hanging off of practically everything that Soap would say to him. He adored the man and Soap made it abundantly clear that he was adored in return.

When they kissed, it was like the entire world would fade around him. It was like the only thing that mattered in that moment was Soap and Roach and the place where they were connected. All of the static and the constant paranoia and the fear of being forced into a life that he didn't want would disappear with a sweet touch and a soft press of their lips together. Roach didn't have to worry about being forced into a life that he didn't want with Soap because, he'd decided, Soap was part of the life that he wanted.

It had been so easy to focus on Soap and Soap alone because Makarov had been quiet. It was unlike him and Roach should have known that things were too good to be true. Makarov was never quiet without reason and now, now Roach understood why he'd been silent.

"Gary Sanderson!" His mother followed after him, her face twisted up in anger, "Prince Makarov was generous enough to send over an outfit just for you. Despite everything, he is still showing such kindness to you and you will wear it!"

"It's disgusting and inappropriate!" Roach wheeled around, his own face red, "It's in his colors which is highly disrespectful to my fiance who will be there this evening. If Soap had sent this over, you would have had it thrown out immediately!"

"It is not inappropriate!" His mother snapped, "It covers you as it's meant to, it is elegant."

"And the chains?" Roach glared at her, "Yes I'm sure those are quite elegant and certainly not meant to send a message to my fiance. Makarov doesn't own me! I won't let him dress me up like I'm his personal doll!"

"He is the Prince!" His mother stormed after him as he rushed up the stairs toward his room, "While you are still living in this kingdom, while you are still in my house, while you remain unmarried, you will continue to respect him and his wishes!" She stopped his door with her hand, preventing him from slamming it in her face, "You will wear that outfit, Gary Sanderson. You will wear that outfit, even if I have to get rid of every other one that you own. So make the choice, wear it once, or only have it to wear from here on out!"

With that, she removed her hand and allowed Roach to slam the door shut. Despite how drastic her words seemed, Roach knew his mother. He knew his mother and he knew that she was telling the truth.

He didn't have a choice. As usual, he didn't have a choice. It seemed that, with his mother, he would never have a choice. The thought burned away at him and the anger that bubbled up in response was white hot. It refused to fade.

"There we are," his mother smiled at him as he made his way down the stairs toward where his entire family was waiting for him. "See, it isn't so bad, is it? All that fuss just for-"

Roach stormed past her. He didn't care to hear what she had to say and anger was still burning harshly through him. He was the first into his family's carriage and he made sure to tuck himself far against the window, keeping his eyes planted firmly outside.

His mother slid in after him and took the seat across from him in the carriage, he could feel her eyes burning into him. He stayed facing the window. Within several moments, the carriage had started moving and they were off toward the castle for dinner.

There was a tense silence that permeated the air of the carriage, it was clear that Roach's brothers had no intention to break it or try to soothe anything. He didn't blame them. He knew his father wouldn't either, he loved the man but it was too often that he deferred back to his mother.

"Gary," his mother chimed, her voice hard, "I'll remind you again that you should be grateful for this. Not everyone gets a gift from the prince."

Roach resisted the urge to snap back at her that not everyone had the Prince obsessed with them since they were a child either. He just continued to glare out of the window of the small carriage. He had no intention to speak with her for the moment.

He blocked everything out, letting his mind fall into a simple burning silence with the rocking of the carriage around him. Though he tried to block the sound out, he could hear the chains on the outfit that he was wearing clinking together.

It rang around his ears, reminding him of the icy cold from the outfit that seemed to be burning into his skin. It felt wrong. The fabric scratched at his skin, the chains chilled him and he could feel air flowing in through the areas of split cloth. It was tailored perfectly to him, a detail that made him feel all too ill. The black and gold of the outfit seemed to mock him. Whether he liked it or not, here he was, dressed as Makarov wanted him to be. He was dressed as though he belonged to the man.

He wanted to tear the outfit from his skin.

Seeing Soap was like a wave of relief to the anger that had been burning at him since the moment that stupid package had shown up at his house. Everything cooled with just the sight of him and, before Roach could stop himself, he was darting forward away from his family and into the arms of his fiance.

They were wrapped together for only a moment before Roach remembered himself. This wasn't one of their courting dates where Jackson and Price would look the other way when they got a bit too touchy or close, they were in public.

He pulled away at the thought and he could see on Soap's face that the other man understood why. Neither of them mentioned it, they just moved on and pretended that they hadn't just gotten a bit too close in front of Roach's family and several other guests at the castle.

"My love," Soap gave his usual greeting, pulling Roach close and lifting his hands to place kisses on the back of his hand then his wrists. The greeting always seemed to make Roach go a bright red and he could feel his heart fluttering in his chest at Soap's low greeting to him.

"Soap," he responded back simply, an excited smile tugging at his lips, "I'm delighted to see you. It's been days since our last outing together."

"I know," Soap responded, a smile pulled to his lips as he tucked Roach at his side, "I apologize my love. I've been trying to catch up on correspondence home." He paused for a long moment before whispering, "You've been keeping me well distracted."

Roach could feel heat sear down his spine at the words. His entire body felt alight with a low buzz of something he could only describe as want. He wanted Soap. He pushed it down. Now wasn't the time.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson," Soap greeted his family with a bright grin and slight bow, "A delight to see you again."

Roach's mother pressed her lips together tight, a clear look of distaste crossing her face. It just made the anger in Roach's chest burn back up. "Yes," she gave a clearly fake smile, "A delight to see you as well. We're delighted to have you joining everyone for dinner tonight."

"Any chance to see Roach," Soap looked down at him with a small smile and Roach could feel that anger begin to fade once again. How strange that such a small thing could calm him so much.

There was a sweet moment of calm where it seemed like perhaps Roach could be happy for the rest of the night tucked against Soap's side. Of course, that couldn't actually happen, though.

"What do you think of his outfit this evening?" Roach's head whipped toward his mother, a harsh glare on his face. She wore nothing more than a polite smile, but there was a glint in her eyes that made him see red.

"His outfit?" Soap glanced down at him briefly, "Ah, I hadn't even noticed it. He looks brilliant in anything he wears." Roach could feel his eyes trailing down his form and the urge to cry hit in strongly. He couldn't believe that he was letting himself be seen in the outfit. He didn't want to wear it. He hated it.

"I agree," his mother gave Soap a smile, "but you see this one is special, a gift from Prince Makarov. He's always been so kind as to do these things for Roach."

"That," Soap looked back down at him, "Actually makes quite a bit of sense." Roach resisted the urge to laugh at his words, but he did allow himself to relish in the brief flash of anger that crossed Soap's face. It meant that the man was feeling exactly what he was.

"And what does that mean?" Roach's mother asked, her voice tense.

Soap turned back to her with a small smile, "Only that it is understandable that a man who did wish to marry my fiance would make such a...weak grasp for some sort of hold over him." He turned back to Roach and his hand moved up to brush against the chains across his arms, "After all, what other reason would he have to dress my darling fiance in chains and the colors of his house. I must say, I cannot hold it against him." He shot Roach a wink, "If I had lost my chance with someone so wonderful as Roach, I would take what I can."

"You-" Roach's mother had gone a bit pale and even the rest of his family seemed shocked at Soap's words. None of them had expected him to so blatantly call out what Makarov had done. Roach expected that Makarov hadn't expected it either. It made sense though, Soap was a king. He was a higher status than Makarov and he had no reason to roll over and take such disrespect.

"It does not matter," Soap turned to his family with a small smile, "Once we are married the only colors that he will be dressed in are blue and silver. My colors."

With those words, Soap started to guide them away from his gaping family and into the large dining hall that had been set specifically for the event.

"Thank you," Roach whispered to him as they moved further into the room, heading toward their seats. Roach was set across from Soap at the table, but Soap was quick to rectify that by swapping the nameplate next to his seat with Roach's nameplate.

"Are you alright?" He helped Roach into his seat before moving their chairs closer and sitting beside him. He reached out again, allowing his hand to brush along the chains over Roach's thighs. His eyes trailed the deep neckline at his chest with careful eyes. In any other situation, it would have made Roach blush a bright red. "I did not think...with your country's customs, is this not a bit much?"

"It is," Roach took Soap's hand in his own and started to nervously play with his fingers. He needed some sort of distraction. "It's highly inappropriate. If I had chosen to wear this for myself, I would be a pariah. However, since Makarov chose it for me, people are much more willing to look the other way." He grit his teeth and glared at the door where his family were finally stepping into the room, "Including my mother."

Soap watched him for a long moment. He took one of Roach's hands in his own, stopping him from playing with his fingers. He rubbed sweet, soothing circles onto the skin of his wrist. "I will speak to the King and Queen about this. I am sure that they knew of his plans, but a complaint from me should prevent him from attempting anything in the future."

"Thank you," Roach could feel cool relief rush through him as Soap brought his hand up to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. Soap would take care of him. He wouldn't just sit by and let Makarov continue to do things like this. Something about that was comforting.

The two sat together in a small bubble of peace for several minutes, just letting their hands tangle together as they spoke quietly about whatever came to their minds. Roach had been particularly interested in trying to learn more about Soap's kingdom recently, so he was more than happy to quietly listen to Soap talk about what his castle looked like. After all, it would be Roach's future home. Better to learn as much as he could.

Of course, they were at an event and, though Roach wished it could, their little bubble of peace couldn't last forever. It was broken with a call for everyone to rise for the arrival of the royal family.

Those who weren't already in their seats rushed to their places and chatter in the room fell to nothing as everyone stood. Moments later and the large doors to the dining hall opened, revealing the three members of the royal family, dressed in their best.

Roach resisted the urge to glare at Makarov and instead plastered a fake smile on his face as he stooped into a deep bow with everyone else at the table. Well, everyone other than Soap. He only gave a slight bow as a sign of respect while also refusing to lower himself below the king.

Within a few moments, the royals had taken their seats at the table. Roach noticed that Makarov seemed to glare at the man sitting next to him and he knew it was because that's where he was meant to be sitting. He pressed his lips together and tried to keep the glee he felt off of his face.

After a quick and rather boring speech from the king about Soap being a guest in the kingdom and some bullshit about celebrating their soon alliance with one another through his and Soap's marriage, everyone was able to be seated and the food began to be served.

Things were quiet at first, as they usually were at feasts like this one. Everyone was far too busy loading up their plates and getting a bit of food in their system, far too busy to talk. But, as usual, the longer that everyone sat at the table and the more chatter began to break out around the room. It started with only a few words before eventually turning into a low hum of voices that lay like a thick blanket over the table.

Roach wasn't a fan of feasts, mostly because he was usually forced to dress in something Makarov had gifted him and sit at the man's side all evening, entertaining whatever conversation the prince decided he wanted to have with him. Then usually, toward the end of the night, Makarov would have a bit of wine on his breath and feel brave enough to let his hands stroke along Roach's thighs under the table. Roach could do nothing but sit there and pretend not to be disgusted with the man.

Today was different though. Sure, Roach was still in one of the outfits that Makarov had gifted him, but the most important thing was that he was not seated next to the man. Instead, he was seated next to Soap. He soon realized that this made a world of difference.

Now he was sat next to Soap. A man who he adored, a man who he knew he could chat with for hours, a man who, in only two weeks' time, would be his husband. The thought made him excited. Never in his life did he think he would be excited at the prospect of marrying. He'd always assumed that he'd never have an option outside of Makarov. He'd known since he was a child that catching the attention of the Prince in the way that he had...it meant that he would be given very little choice in the realm of marriage.

Now though? Now he had someone sweet who actually cared about him and his comfort. Someone who made him happy. Someone who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

So Roach found that, so far, the feast had actually been quite nice. He got to sit next to Soap, tucked close enough that their arms would brush together occasionally. He got to whisper quietly with the man, laughing at his little jokes and listening excitedly as he told stories of his home and talked of places that he was excited to take him once they were married.

Roach found it easy to ignore Makarov's gaze piercing into him from across the table and his mother's downright murderous gaze from next to him. He knew she was angry about Soap's reaction to his outfit and he knew that she was likely angry at him for not trying to rebuff his fiance. He had no intention to rebuff Soap when the man was right about everything he'd said.

Ignoring everyone else at the table was easy. Unfortunately, they could not be allowed to ignore everyone all night. And, it seemed, once the desserts were brought out and served and the alcohol had been flowing for a decent amount of time, their time ignoring everyone was up.

"So, Soap, how has courting with Roach been going?" The king was the one who asked the question, a small polite smile on his face. He shared a glance with the queen beside him and it was clear to see what they were hoping for. Roach despised them terribly.

"It has been quite wonderful," Soap took Roach's hand in his own, tangling their fingers together before resting them on the table. It was a clear sign for anyone to see, a sign that said that he and Roach were quite happy together, thank you very much. "I've adored catching up with my fiance again and it almost feels as though there was no time between us." He brought their entwined hands up to press a kiss to Roach's skin, pulling a soft blush to his face.

"That is," the king gave a forced smile, "wonderful to hear. Tell us, what do the two of you plan to do next? I feel that you've practically enjoyed everything the kingdom has to offer already."

"Well," Soap gave him a smile, "I would be more than glad to take him out for picnics and walks as much as possible. The place doesn't matter to me, or the activity. All that matters is that I am with Roach."

"How sweet," the queen looked between the two of them, "But surely there must be something else the two of you have yet to do. You wouldn't want Roach getting bored, would you?"

"Well," Soap gave them a playful grin, "I suppose we've yet to be married yet. Perhaps we should move the wedding to when our next date was supposed to be." There was a brief pause before both the king and queen gave a nervous sort of laughter. It was clear they weren't fans of that idea and Roach had to bring his cup up to his lips to hide his laughter.

"Speaking of the wedding," he spoke as he brought his cup down, pulling the attention of everyone at the end of the table to him. "I was thinking that perhaps, rather than going anywhere for our next courting, we might stay in at my house?"

"What are you proposing, Roach?" it was Makarov who spoke up, glaring daggers at their entwined hands, still sitting clear to see on the table.

"Nothing inappropriate, I assure," he turned back to Soap with a nervous sort of smile, "It's just that our kingdom has a tradition. A dance that is typically performed by the married couple at their wedding. Um," he squeezed at Soap's hand, "I thought I might teach you? Assuming that you'd like to participate. We don't have to, of course."

"If it is something you want?" Soap gave him a reassuring smile and a quick squeeze of his own hand, "I will gladly learn it, my love."

"Thank you." Roach turned back to his food, trying to contain the grin that threatened to take over his face. Still, his excitement would be clear to anyone who looked at him.

The wedding dance had been the only part of a wedding that he'd ever even considered wanting. Of course, having to do it with Makarov would likely ruin it for him, but it was a private desire of his that he'd never really shared with anyone. He'd watched his brother do it at their own weddings and had been enamored with how romantic the entire thing was.

He'd never shared it with anyone. He'd never even put it in his letters to Soap when he was using them as a diary. It was something that would stay locked up tight in his mind because he'd never wanted the thought of it to be tainted for him in the way that other things had been. Until recently, he'd been content to keep the thought locked up tight in his mind, only present for the sweet fantasies that he'd occasionally allowed himself to indulge in. Fantasies where he would find someone sweet and be allowed to marry them instead of Makarov.

He'd realized only recently that Soap's arrival was like one of those sweet fantasies come to life.

"The wedding dance," the queen had a bit of a sour look on her face, "how sweet. It will be important that you have your chaperones there for the practices with how close it requires the two of you to be with one another."

"I assure you, your majesty," Roach gave her a small smile, "Paul will be watching like a hawk."

His words seemed to only sour her expression further. Still, she gave him a quick nod and tight smile, "Very good."

The table was silent for a few moments and Roach was sure that they were going to be allowed to return to their own quiet conversation. That was until Makarov's voice cut through over the table, "King MacTavish, what do you think of Roach's outfit for the night, it is quite nice, isn't it?"

Roach had to admire the Prince's audacity. The man was an asshole and a creep, but he had quite a bit of nerve on him.

"Oh yes," the queen gave Roach a small smile, "he does look quite lovely, doesn't he?"

"Indeed," Soap responded, "As I told his mother earlier, I would find Roach quite lovely in anything he decides to wear. In fact, I'm sure that if he decided to go bare I would find him more than just lovely." The words made heat flood down Roach's spine and he could practically feel the horrified looks that the members of the table were giving Soap. He didn't care, the words made him feel warm under his skin and that was what mattered.

"That is-"

Soap was quick to cut Makarov off, fitting him with a calm smile as he stared him down from across the table, "I must request though, for future reference. Do please refrain from dressing my fiance in the color of your house. And chains." He tilted his head at Makarov, "I do understand that your family had expected Roach to join your house, but he is not. He is joining mine. Continuing to dress him as though he is yours is rather disrespectful, don't you think?"

Makarov gaped at him for a long moment before his face slowly twisted into a harsh glare and a deep-set look of hatred. "King MacTavish-"

The king cut his son off quickly, clearly trying to keep him from saying anything that he shouldn't. "While I agree that Makarov should not have sent Roach the outfit," the king gave a slight smile, "Roach did not have to wear the outfit if he did not want to."

Roach felt his heart sink into his chest at the words. Of course, they would figure out some way to deflect from the issue. With that logic, they could continue to send him things and force him to wear them with no issue. Because of course, it would look like it was his choice.

"My friend," Soap turned his attention to the king, "I have learned in my short time here that your kingdom has a great respect for your family. Your people do not wish to disrespect you in any way." He glanced at Roach briefly, "I am sure that Roach only wore the outfit because he feared upsetting your family. If it had come from anyone else, I am certain he would have thrown it out."

"Well," the king puffed up, "let's ask him. Roach, did you wish to wear this outfit for the night?"

The attention at the table fell to him and he found himself frozen for a moment. He could feel his mother's hand land on his leg and, even through his clothes, it felt icy cold. He knew what she wanted him to say. He knew that saying anything other than what she wanted would leave him in a harsh place when they returned home for the night.

Roach opened his mouth to speak. He prepared himself to fall into the normal lie to appease his mother. To appease the royals. Instead, his eyes caught onto Soap's encouraging gaze and, with a quick squeeze of their entwined hands, he found himself responding truthfully. "No, your majesty. I did not wish to wear it, but I also did not want to disrespect the time and money that went into the outfit. It is as Soap said, if it was from anyone else, I wouldn't have worn it."

There was a thick moment of silence. Roach's mother removed her hand from his leg and without looking at her he could feel the white-hot anger burning at his side.

"Ah," the king seemed almost shocked that he'd told the truth. It was clear he'd expected him to roll over as usual and allow Makarov to have his way with him. "Well," he cleared his throat, "I see. We shall refrain from allowing Makarov to send you any further gifts. And, of course, we apologize, King MacTavish, we meant no harm."

"No harm done," Soap assured, his eyes darting over to Makarov's quickly reddening face, "Believe me, I understand the desire to have Roach as your own."

With that, there was no more conversation within the group for the rest of the night.

The carriage ride back home after the banquet was quiet. Not just quiet, silent. No one dared to say a word and there was a thick tension that filled the air. Roach's brothers even seemed afraid of moving too much, wincing at any slight noise they made when the carriage seemed to jerk them slightly.

Roach, like he'd done on the ride there, kept his eyes locked firmly outside of the window the entire ride. He refused to look anywhere else, even as he could feel his mother's gaze burning into him. He knew that this silence wouldn't last forever. He didn't care. He felt happy for the moment.

He'd gotten a chance to spend more time with Soap and he would no longer have to worry about Makarov trying to force him into new outfits. It had shaped up to be probably the best banquet that Roach had attended in his life and he didn't intend to let his mother's anger ruin that for him.

When the carriage pulled to a stop outside of their estate, Roach took his sweet time stepping out. He wasn't going to rush into a fight, even as his mother sped ahead of him into the house, his father hot on her heels. He walked slowly, his brothers and sisters-in-law on either side of him.

"You know you're in for it, right?" Johnathan tucked Melissa closer to his side, "She's not going to let that go."

"I know," Roach responded, his head held high, "It doesn't matter. I'm tired of rolling over for her and doing things I'm not comfortable with. Especially now."

He let his brothers and sisters-in-law step into the house first, giving them time to rush off to their rooms to at least somewhat avoid the fight.

As soon as he stepped into the house, he could hear his mother's voice ranting loudly about Soap and about his behavior during the night. He didn't care much about her comments about him, but the few comments that he heard about Soap made him seethe. He couldn't believe she would so openly insult him like this.

He followed her voice further into the house until he reached the sitting room where she was ranting to his father who was quietly trying to calm her down, his words low enough that Roach couldn't hear them.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment before stepping into the room fully, drawing his mother's attention toward him.

"Gary Sanderson," She seethed, pushing away from his father and taking several harsh steps toward him. He held his ground and kept his head held high. "I hope you're proud of yourself young man!"

"I am," he answered quickly. His words only seemed to make her angrier.

"You received a gracious gift from the prince," she practically spat the words at his feet, "and you threw it in his face! I did not raise you to be so disrespectful to the royals!"

"Stop pretending it was a gift!" Roach snapped back, "Look at me! We both know what it was. We both knew what it was when you forced me to wear it!"

"Do not yell at me, young man!"

"That's all you have to say?" Roach gave a disbelieving laugh, "Acknowledge it, Mom! Acknowledge that you made me wear an outfit that was meant to stake a claim on me! One that was meant to send a message to my fiance!"

"So what if it was?" His mother hissed. Roach reeled away from her. He hadn't expected her to actually acknowledge what he said. It made his chest constrict. It made everything that he knew real, everything that he'd wanted to believe was his mother truly just being oblivious, he knew now.

"Caroline," his father hissed. He reached out to grab at her arm, but she was quick to shove him off and continue pressing forward.

"Your fiance is an improper joke of a king!" She took several steps toward Roach, "And the fact that you ever agreed to marry him in the first place tells me that I failed as your mother!"

"How dare you!" Roach took a measured step toward her, rage burning through his system like fire, "Soap is twice the man that Makarov is!"

"He wants you for what's between your legs and that's it!"

"You're wrong!"

"His comments tonight prove it!" She took another step forward and this time Roach stepped away from her, trying to return the distance between them that he'd lost. "He's a pervert and he's just using you! You don't think he has plenty of pretty men warming his bed and waiting for him back home? He's a barbarian!"

Tears rose to Roach's eyes and he continued backing away from his mother as he shot back, "You know who's a pervert? Makarov! Look at what I'm wearing, think of everything that he's done to me! Everything that I've told you about! Soap loves me!"

"He doesn't love you!" Roach's back hit the wall and he found himself trapped, just as he'd been that day in his room, with Makarov physically pinning him to the wall. This time, though, it was his mother and her words that kept him in place. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. "He doesn't love you and you won't marry him! I'm putting my foot down on this Gary Sanderson! Makarov loves you, Makarov will take care of you, and you are going to marry him because he is the right choice!"

Roach shook his head, "I won't marry him, you can't make me. I'm marrying Soap, I know that he loves me and that's what matters."

"You will marry Makarov," his mother stood up tall and raised her chin, it was clear in her gaze that she was looking down at him, "You'll marry him or you'll no longer be a part of this family."

"Caroline!" His father's voice was the loudest that Roach had ever heard and the way it boomed around the room made both Roach and his mother jump. Their eyes were both wide as they stared at his face, twisted up into something angry. "That is enough. This is Roach's choice, not yours. Soap is a fine choice for him and if he wants to marry him, we will support him. Under no circumstances will he be kicked out of our family. He will always have a place with us."

"King MacTavish is-"

"A fine man," Roach's father stood up tall, "Who clearly loves our son and who is more than capable of taking care of him. A man who I approve of."

Roach gave a watery smile toward his father and he received a small nod in return. It wasn't much, but the movement spoke volumes.

"Fine," his mother turned toward him, "You'll still be a part of this family, but if you marry him? You won't be my son anymore. Because I did not raise you to be an easy whore who falls for men's traps like this."

Roach pushed himself off of the wall and stood up tall, tears still rolling down his cheeks as he leveled his mother with a face of calmness, "I hate you." It was her turn to reel away from him, taking a quick step back away from him at the words. "I hate you," he repeated, "And when I marry Soap, and when I leave with him to his kingdom, I want you to know that when I come back...if I come back, it won't be for you. I don't want anyone who would try to force me to marry a man like Makarov in my life. I don't want anyone who insists that he is the better choice for me in my life. I hate you and when I'm married? That's the last time that you will be privileged to be part of my life."

He gave her shocked face one last look before turning and leaving the sitting room. Silence lasted for only a few moments before the sound of wails broke through it. Roach didn't turn back.

"Hey," Roach pulled Jackson to a stop as the two approached one of the small event rooms in the castle.

He was dressed down for what he would normally wear to a courting date with Soap, something that had him feeling a bit self-conscious in his own skin. Still, he knew that it would have been silly for him to wear something nicer like he usually would. After all, the two would be dancing today and dancing was a bit of a workout at times. He didn't want to ruin one of his nicer outfits.

Even though his mother had turned her nose up at him when she saw what he was wearing, it was clear she didn't approve, he hadn't cared. He'd barely even acknowledged her since their fight days ago, instead directing all of his comments toward his father or his brothers.

He'd been worried that his father would attempt to make him patch things over with his mother. After all, the man usually took her side. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised when his father ignored his mother's indignant huffs in favor of giving him a soft smile and telling him to have fun.

He tugged Jackson into a silent corner, his eyes darting nervously toward the door to the event room down the hall. He knew Soap was likely waiting for him inside. "Listen," he glanced back at Jackson, "I need to you promise me that you won't disappear today."

"What?" Jackson raised an eyebrow at him.

Roach gave a deep sigh, "Listen, I get it, you've started...whatever you've started with Gaz and Price, I get it. But I really need you to genuinely be my chaperone today. Okay? I'm serious."

"I don't understand," Jackson shook his head, "I mean time alone with Soap? Isn't that what you've been wanting."

"Today is different." Roach shot another look down the hall, "Listen, we're in the castle today and you know the dance that Soap and I are practicing. I wouldn't put it past Makarov to try and come into the room and say he caught Soap and I doing something inappropriate. If you aren't there when he comes in?" His voice went a bit panicked. He didn't want to think about what sort of scheme Makarov could pull off if he managed to catch them in a situation like that. "So I'm serious, I need you to promise me that you won't sneak off!"

"Okay, okay," Jackson held his hands up in surrender and nodded his head quickly, "I promise, okay? I'll be the best chaperone out there!"

Roach gave a sigh of relief and wrapped his arm around Jackson's starting them down the hallway, "Thank you."

"You seem on edge," Jackson spoke carefully as they neared the door to the room, "Everything alright?"

"Honestly," Roach turned to him as they stopped in front of the door, "Not really. But I don't want to talk about it right now. It's...it's complicated."

He pushed the door to the room open and, with a simple sight of Soap, any of the stress that was being held in his body seemed to fade away. He allowed himself to move quickly toward Soap, leaving Jackson to close the door behind them.

He was quick to wrap Soap in a hug and tug him down for a short kiss.

"Hey, hey, hey! Distance, distance!" Roach pulled away from Soap and turned to raise a quick eyebrow toward Jackson. "What? You told me to be an actual chaperone today."

Roach rolled his eyes before turning back to Soap, a small smile on his face. "My love," he took Soap's hands in his own and he could practically see the way that the man melted at his touch. It made his heart flutter in his chest. Soap loved him. He knew that.

Soap was fairly quick to recover, bringing their joined hands up to kiss Roach's wrists as he usually did. "My love," Roach felt warm again, "I am yours today. Teach me what I need to know."

Roach gave him a bright grin and darted up to give a quick peck on his cheek. "So," Roach dropped his things down to the floor quickly before dragging Soap with him closer to the center of the room, "The dance happens before we feast, but after the toasts. It's meant to represent our bond and tells the story of the lovers who founded our kingdom. A warrior and the noblewoman he fell in love with."

He took Soap's hands in his own and guided him over to one side of the room. "Alright, stay here." Quickly, he rushed to the other side of the room before turning to face Soap. "So, we start on opposite sides to show our distance prior to our marriage. do the same thing that I do."

He took a careful step forward and Soap mirrored his movement. He moved carefully forward in several small steps, watching carefully as Soap mimicked his movements until they both met in the middle of the room. "This seems easy so far," Soap gave him a small flash of a smile and Roach couldn't help but return it.

"I promise there's nothing hard in the dance." He reached out with a grin, grabbing Soap's hands to tug them to his waist. "I think you'll like this part," the words pulled a heated blush to his face and a raised eyebrow from Soap.

He stepped closer to Soap, moving until their bodies were pressed tight up against one another. Soap's eyes widened at the movement and Roach resisted the urge to laugh over the way that his face seemed to slowly be going pink.

Soap kept his hands firmly on Roach's hips, something that Roach was quick to fix as he pulled Soap's arms around his waist and encouraged him to relax until his arms were practically hanging over his hips, his hands dropped into a relaxed position over his ass.

"I," Soap cleared his throat as he looked down at Roach, "I suddenly understand why the Queen mentioned the importance of chaperones."

Roach couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his lips at those words. A buzz formed under his skin, slowly spreading around his body. It seemed to pool with warmth inside of him. "Why is that?" He moved through the next part of the dance, guiding Soap to help him turn in his arms until his backside was pressed tight to Soap's front instead. "Feeling tempted?" He moved Soap's hands to just skate up his body before wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"By you?" Soap spoke lowly, his mouth pressed just up against Roach's ear, "Always."

Roach couldn't stop the shiver that pulled up his body at the words and, based on the way that Soap's hands clenched tight against his skin, the other man had noticed it.

He tried to keep himself focused, even when the buzzing under his skin only seemed to grow stronger and stronger the longer that he stayed pressed up against Soap.

"This next part is simple," Roach cleared his throat nervously, "Just take one of my hands and we spin out." They followed his instructions, spinning him out until they were standing beside one another, the only thing connecting them were their hands. "Good, now bring me in like you would for a normal ballroom dance."

Soap paused for a long moment and it only took a second for Roach to realize that the man had no idea what he was talking about. "Like this," he tugged himself closer, moving back close to Soap's body so that they were facing each other. He guided Soap's free hand to his waist. "It's simple, we lead with these hands," he tilted his head toward their interconnected hands and set his free hand on Soap's shoulder.

He took a moment to give Soap a bright smile before slowly starting to guide them across the floor in careful movements. He made sure to go slow, allowing Soap to pick up the rhythm of the movement. He was quite impressed with how well the other seemed to pick up on it, something he wasn't afraid to voice.

"You're very good at this," he gave Soap a bright grin.

"Yeah," Soap chuckled and returned his smile with one of his own, "It's not very different from fighting if I'm being honest. The timing and patterns, it's similar in an odd way."

"Well," Roach pulled them closer to one another, signaling the end of the ballroom portion of the dance, "You must be an excellent fighter then."

Soap gave a low chuckle, "You have no idea, my love."

"That portion represented our courting," Roach explained after a moment, "This last bit is our marriage." He pulled Soap closer and tried to fight off the blush that rose to his face, "It's a bit more... hands-on."

"I enjoy hands-on," Soap responded lowly, his eyes completely focused on Roach and Roach alone. It did nothing but keep the heat in his gut burning hot.

"So, um," Roach moved out like they'd done earlier, spinning until they stood beside each other, with only their hands connecting them, "now, you kiss my hand." Soap did as he was told. "Then you trail the kisses up my arm, pulling me closer as you do."

Soap gave him a soft look and maintained eye contact with him as he leaned down to press a slow and careful kiss on his arm. Then another. And another. And another. He did as Roach told him, slowly guiding him closer to kiss further and further up his arm until, finally, Roach once again had his backside pressed close to Soap's front.

"And now?" Soap asked him in a low whisper.

"Now," Roach glanced down at his lips briefly before meeting Soap's eyes again, "Now we kiss as husbands."

There was a moment of pause before Soap leaned forward to connect their lips. It was a slow thing, just the soft press of lips together, moving in sync. Roach was the one to press closer, desperate for more as the feeling of warmth in his body grew stronger. He hesitantly licked at Soap's lips and gave a pleased little noise when the man parted his lips for him.

From there the kiss grew in intensity. Growing quicker and sloppier as their tongues tangled together, exploring the other's mouth. Soap wrapped an arm around Roach's waist, pulling him back into him further. Their bodies pressed together tightly and Roach could feel the outline of the man behind him pressed against his leg. After a long moment of consideration as they kissed, he gave into his desires and rocked back against the man.

Soap pulled away just slightly with a small hiss, "Fuck." He connected their lips again harshly, his free hand moving to begin skating over Roach's body, feeling along his chest. Roach couldn't help but gasp against Soap's mouth as the man's hand just skated over one of his nipples, brushing over it through the thing fabric of his shirt.

They were lost in each other, engaged in a slow and distracting push and pull that seemed to grow in intensity with every moment. Roach's skin was flush and he felt all too hot under his clothes. He wanted Soap's hand to move lower, he wanted it to slip under the waistband of his pants, he wanted the man to-

A horrified gasp caught Roach's attention and suddenly everything came rushing back to him. He remembered where he was and pulled away from Soap quickly, horror already filling his veins as he turned to spot two unwanted guests watching him and Soap with wide eyes.

Roach was quick to push away from Soap, quickly putting distance between them and folding his hands behind his back with desperate gasps of air. His breathing was heavy as he diverted his gaze to the ground, his head lowered with it. This was not good.

"Your majesties," he acknowledged weakly, his voice nothing more than a horrified whisper.

"Makarov," the queen spoke in a low and harsh voice, "send one of the servants to the Sanderson residence immediately."

Even without looking at him, Roach could hear the smirk in Makarov's voice as he responded with a simple, "Yes, Mother."

"Gary Sanderson. King MacTavish, come to the sitting room to wait with me. This is an issue that must be resolved." Roach let his eyes close with dread. This was not good.

Roach was sat tensely on one of the settees in the little sitting room, staring straight ahead. He tried his best not to think about the man sitting next to him. He tried his best not to think about the fact that Soap was standing across the room, kept there by the queen's harsh glare any time he moved.

Jackson and Price stumbled into the room after a few moments and Roach allowed his eyes to turn toward them. He met the horrified wide-eyed look from Jackson as the queen snorted, "Ah, there are the so-called chaperones!"

Jackson was quick to rush across the room to kneel down next to Roach on the ground, his hands landing on Roach's leg. "Roach," he spoke quietly, his voice lowered enough that only Roach could hear him, "I am so sorry."

"I asked you to do one thing for me," Roach met his eyes carefully, "One thing."

With that, he looked away from his friend and went back to staring carefully into space, trying to block out the sounds from around him. Despite his words, Jackson didn't move, he just stayed kneeling on the floor by his side.

It was only a few minutes after that Roach's family along with the king flooded into the room, led by his mother. He stood when they arrived, quickly taking the opportunity to move away from Makarov and instead tuck himself close to his father's side.

"Ah, excellent, you're here." The queen stepped toward his mother and took her hands in her own, "I dread to inform you of what has happened Caroline."

"It was not anything," Soap spoke carefully from his side of the room, Price at his side, "Certainly nothing the people in this room have to worry about."

The queen turned quickly toward him, "My son and I happened across the room where you and Roach were and we found you with no chaperones in the room and you attempting to taint dear Roach's character."

"We were kissing," Soap said blankly, "He's to be my husband, am I not permitted to kiss the man who will soon be mine?"

"No," Roach's mother glared at him harshly, "You are not! Not until you are married. I know your kingdom might be," she lifted her nose to him, "looser than ours, but Roach is one of us and he must follow our customs."

"Do none of my customs get taken into consideration," Soap shot back quickly. "What if it is customary to kiss and be close to your partner before you are married? Would that not be permitted? Would I be forced, once again, to give in to your ridiculous standards of purity?"

"If you can show no concern for the customs of my son and our people," his mother glared harshly at Soap, "Then perhaps you should not be marrying him. In fact, after this little stunt, I'd like to call this entire wedding off!"

"That is not your choice," Soap answered simply, his face hard.

"He is my son!"

"I am not," Roach spoke quietly, but his voice cut through the room and brought his mother's attention toward him. "Do you not remember what you said, Mother? We decided, didn't we? I'm not your son anymore."

"Roach," his mother hissed, "he forced this on you! What if he had-"

He ignored her warning look to instead look around the room, "I was the one who kissed him." He stood taller, facing the shocked looks from his family and the royals as he continued the lie, "I was the one who initiated the kiss. I am the degenerate who wished to be closer to my fiance before we are married."

"He is lying," his mother whipped around to glare at Soap again, "To try and protect you!"

"Lady Sanderson," Roach felt himself go cold as the attention of the room fell to the calm voice of the Prince, "I believe Roach. I believe that he initiated the kiss." Roach didn't like this. There was no reason for Makarov to be agreeing with him, why was he agreeing with him? "It is understandable, a natural step for a couple. I believe the failure is not with King MacTavish or Roach, but instead," he turned his head just slightly to look toward Jackson, "with their chaperones."

"He is right," the Queen agreed quickly. Roach realized with a terrible sense of clarity where the conversation was going. "It was not the fault of Roach or the king. Nothing would have happened if their chaperones were there to keep them in line."

"I propose," Makarov stood from his seat and folded his hands behind his back, "a change in chaperones. I am sure Paul and MacTavish's man have only the best interest of their friends at heart, but it is clear they are distracted."

"Yes," his mother nodded her head slowly, a glint in her eyes telling Roach that she understood what was happening, Roach wanted to scream. This wasn't happening, it couldn't happen. "I agree."

"I should take the position of Roach's chaperone," Makarov gave a careful smile. "King MacTavish may choose someone new from his own men and the two men will have fresh eyes to watch over them."

"You are a fine choice," Roach's mother agreed quickly.

"Of course," Makarov turned his head to meet Roach's eyes a terrible glint in them, "After all, I only have Roach's best interests at heart."

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