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springfallendeer · 2 years ago

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The Bells - 4

Part 4 of the fic featuring @xitsensunmoon's vampire au boys

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Part 4: Another tense reunion

||The sound of bells roused her from her sleep come morning. Abruptly so, at that.||

||Not for any reason in particular. The song of the bells was gentle and distant. But after weeks of having been tortured by the continual chime of the metal, she had come to have a negative response to the sound.||

||Ergo, when she wakes, she jolts awake. She jolts awake as the sound of the bell chiming permeates her dreams to mock her subconscious mind.||

||The bells continue to sing as she stumbles out of her bed. Not loud. They’re very quiet. But they’re anxiety inducing all the same.||

||Disoriented, she stumbles her way out of her room and back to the front door. Upon pulling it open, she finds the other vampire standing right outside. The golden one.||

||He pauses upon seeing her, a friendly smile spreading across his features as he locks eyes with her. He had been shaking one of his wrists up near his head. The bells attached to the ribbons worn around his wrist were being rattled as a result.||

||“Good morning~” The golden vampire chimes their velvety voice just as sweet as it had been when they first met. For some reason, their voice now lacks the calming effect that it had had at that time.||

||Ayala stands there for a few minutes, just staring at him. Overall just struggling to fully wrap her head around the scenario that she’s somehow gotten herself into.||

||Why her?||

||Of all the people in the world, why was she the one being harassed by these weird, robotic vampires?||

||The golden vampire lets out an almost uneasy sounding laugh as he stares at her.||

||“Something tells me that you’re not a morning person~...” He awkwardly jokes.||

||Ayala finds herself giving him a rather dirty look in response. Or at least she assumes that’s what she’s done, given the uncomfortable look he gives her after a moment.||

||He clears his throat, taking a step back so that he could offer a dramatic bow. His previously friendly persona is back in full swing as he does so.||

||“Well! Pardon the intrusion. I just thought it was high time that I stopped by to introduce myself properly~” The vampire dramatically exclaims, before returning to his previous, upright position.|| ||“You can call me Sun. Or Sunny, if you like~” He sweetly chuckles, giving the woman what could be described as a goofy looking grin. If not for the fact that his grin was full of sharp teeth.||

||Teeth that had already been used to tear into her flesh.||

||“... Ayala.” She mutters in turn, giving the vampire her name. Though, she probably did not need to. Moon had no doubt already given him her name. The vampire lets out a soft laugh to confirm this assumption.||

||“Yes~ Yes.” Sun hums, before clearing his throat. He offers another polite bow, this time offering his hand. A metallic, skeletal hand. Ayala cannot help but stare at it. Anxiously. The vampire lets out a little sigh in response.|| ||“Do I frighten you?...” He murmurs, his sweet voice having gone mostly quiet as he spoke. He gave her the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes that she had ever seen as he asked her this. Something that should have been impossible for a robotic, blood sucking vampire to do.||

||She looks away, not wanting to be guilted by his hurt voice and sad eyes. He didn’t have the right to be bothered.||

||“You want to eat me.” Ayala retorts, forcing the bitterness into her voice to hide her unease. The vampire reluctantly withdraws his hand, bringing it to his chest. He almost appears to be covering his heart. If he has one, that is.||

||“Well, yes. But I’m trying to make you comfortable.” Sun replies, giving the woman an almost surprised look. His eyes are a bit wide and his expression a bit befuddled.||

||Ayala mentally swears.||

||Why was he so cute?||

||It didn’t make sense. He was a predator knocking at her door, politely asking her to bare her neck to him.||

||She shouldn’t feel guilty for being upset, and she shouldn’t find him cute.||

||She anxiously glances back at him. In doing so, she makes the mistake of looking into his eyes.||

||His pale, ghostly eyes.||

||A reluctant wave of calm rolls over her as she stares at him. She doesn’t know if its his relaxed posture, or his gentle expression, or his sweet, sweet eyes. Something about him somehow puts her at ease when, it absolutely shouldn’t.||

||Cautiously, she begins to extend her hand.||

||Sun’s smile only widens as he offers his hand in turn. He waits for her to place her hand in his.||

||She flinches as he wraps his thumb around to gently squeeze her hand.||

||She flinches further as he slowly tugs her hand to his face.||

||No teeth. No pain. Sun simply delivers a soft, sweet kiss to the top of her hand. This is an act of submission on his part. A means of putting his prey more at ease, so that when the time comes, there will be less resistance when he seeks her out for blood.||

||On some level, she’s well aware of this. Her trembling establishes as much.||

||He offers a gentle shush as he reaches to caress her face.||

||She flinches at first, rightly nervous. But she’s already stepped into his grasp. Ergo, it's already too late to step back. She’s crossed the threshold to enter the point of no return.||

||“Poor, nervous little Doe~” Sun hums, gently caressing the woman’s face in an attempt to calm her trembling body. As tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes, he reaches further to wrap his fingers around to lightly cradle the back of her head. At which point, he coaxes her closer by lightly pulling. She obeys, her body unwilling to resist his beckoning call.|| ||“There, there~ No need to be scared.” He murmurs, kneeling so that he can make himself closer to her height as he pulls her into a hug. Her trembling worsens at first as she feels his body effectively trap hers against him. His robotic limbs act as a cage, preventing her from even hoping to run.|| ||“You’re safe~” He states, bringing his other hand up to gently comb his fingers through her hair. She doesn’t stop trembling.||

||It's the knowledge of his hunger that makes her so uneasy. The knowledge that she’s willingly walked into the embrace of a creature that seeks to tear into her throat to indulge in the crimson fluid trapped beneath her skin.||

||Sun lets out a soft laugh, pulling back ever so slightly so that he could lock eyes with the woman once more. He shushes her again, moving to wipe the lone, stray tears that’s rolled down her cheek.||

||“My sweet little Doe. So small. So timid. Please, don’t be afraid.” His velvety voice spills these words as he looks at her, his pale, ghostly eyes as hypnotic as ever.|| ||“We have no intention of harming you. Quite the opposite. We want to keep you close. To keep you safe and comfortable. All we ask is for you to allow us to eat when we are hungry.” He states, using sweet words to hide the scenario that has been arranged.||

||She has been chosen as livestock. Livestock needs to be kept safe and comfortable, in order for it to be kept useful.||

||She feared what would happen if she lost her use.||

||“... Why me?” Ayala murmurs, staring into Sun’s calm, unblinking eyes. The vampire lightly traces his thumb across her lower lip, a soft smile tugging at his features.||

||“You taste nice.” Sun replies, allowing his hand to drop lower. He lightly traces the woman’s jaw, gently encouraging her to tilt her head to the side. She nervously obeys.|| ||“You live further away from other people. So there’s less risk of anyone else seeing us when we happen by for a visit.” He adds, pointing out an additional aspect that appealed to the vampires. All the while he gently ushers her head back and to the side. He maintains eye contact all throughout.|| ||“And I suspect-” He chuckles, breaking eye contact as he leans to brush lips against her throat “that you like being bitten~”||

||Ayala tenses faintly from the anticipation of his teeth. But he doesn’t bite. He simply drags his tongue along her skin, letting out a little purr as he feels her body heat up.||

||She feels her face flush faintly as her brain processes his final statement.||

||When she shoves her hands against his chest, he lets her go. Mostly.||

||She falls back, but Sun catches her just before she can hit her head. There’s a glimmer of mischief in his otherwise docile eyes as he stares down at her, holding her just an inch off of the ground.||

||Her face flushes further as she realizes their position. He’s effectively on top of her, cradling her body in his arms. One wrapped under her back, the other tucked behind her head.||

||As he pulls her back up and allows her to kneel in front of him, he chuckles.||

||“Careful~” Sun’s voice has become something of a tease as he speaks. He’s clearly amused by her reaction to his statement that he suspects she enjoys being bitten. He runs his fingers through her hair again, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he gazes at her.|| ||“Tell me, what did you feel when we drank from you? Be honest.” He requests, bringing his hand around to cup the woman’s chin. He means to prevent her from looking away from him.||

||Her cheeks flush further as he stares at her, quietly waiting for a response.||

||Memories of that first encounter come rushing back, whether she likes it or not.||

||The terror of being chased. The adrenaline rushing through her veins. The fear she felt once captured.||

||Then the calm when she gazed into Sun’s eyes, and the sting of his teeth as they sank into her skin.||

||Then the euphoria.||

||The exhaustion mixed with the loss of blood. As dazed as it left her, it was not unpleasant.||

||Moon repeatedly biting down on her throat kept her grounded in the moment. Overwhelmed by the feeling of her whole body relaxing in their hold.||

||Clearly they had been killing her. Every drop of blood swallowed by their lips took with it a sliver of her life. They had simply stopped before crossing that invisible line.||

||But when the fear was taken away, the situation as a whole was not all that unpleasant.||

||She wasn’t sure how to feel now that she thought about it. She should have been terrified. She should have been sobbing in Sun’s embrace. She should have been trying to get away from him. But she wasn’t.||

||On some level, she didn’t hate being used for food. Because some part of her did enjoy the way it felt when they drank from her.||

||She couldn’t bring herself to verbalize this revelation. But she did not need to. Her confused, flustered expression gave everything away.||

||Sun chuckles, tracing her throat with his fingers once more.||

||“Why not give us a chance? Let us help you experience it properly.” Sun requests, leaning so that he can whisper into the woman’s ear. A smirk tugs at his lips as he feels her shudder.|| ||“No chasing. No games. Just Moon and I taking a drink from your neck.” He murmurs, his words dripping from his lips like honey.||

||Ayala is left stunned, for a moment. Unsure of how to respond. Or maybe even unable to respond due to her jumbled emotions.||

||She can’t even use her voice when she does offer a response. All that she can do is give a timid, uneasy nod.||

||She can’t believe that she’s agreeing to this. But it's the only way to be sure, isn’t it?||

||She can’t decide if being used for food is horrible if she doesn’t allow them to feed in a controlled setting.||

||In a flash, she’s off of the ground. Sun stood and picked her up so quickly and so easily that she felt as though she had teleported. He hadn’t even given her the time to blink before everything was done.||

||Rightly disoriented by the sudden change in posture, she wobbles faintly as he sets her back on her feet. He keeps his hand wrapped around hers as she steadies herself, before he offers one final bow.||

||“This evening, then. As the sun begins to set. Moon and I will return. You need only invite us in.” He trills, bringing her hand up to his face again so that he can kiss her knuckles. She slowly withdraws her hand once he lets it go.||

||Then she blinks, and suddenly he’s gone. The only reminder of him having been there at all being the feel of his lips against her skin, and the distant sound of his bells as he moves around beyond her line of sight.||

||Confused, she stands there for a moment, trying and failing to fully process the situation that she’s gotten herself into. Until at last the reality of it all sets in.||

||Flustered, she retreats into her home, slamming the door behind her as she does.||

||She can’t believe what she’s just agreed to. But it's too late to go back now.||

||All that she can do is wait and hope that she hasn’t made a horrible, horrible mistake.||

#Ayala #vampire!sun #vampire!moon #xitsen's boys

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Hiding In Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 10

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies? RATING: General Audience

NOTE - I finally got my ass in gear and finished something, thank Loki.

Raven gave him a withering look. “Again with the ‘she’ and ‘her’. You are going out of your way to be insulting at this stage.” “But you are Raven? Not ‘Breanna’?” Loki demanded.

“My grandmother called me Breanna. It’s one and the same.” She dismissed.

“You hid yourself as a maid?”

“I did.” “Why?” “I heard so many stories about you, so incredibly conflicting, I wanted to see for myself.” “So you pretended to be a maid? You…” Loki’s eyes widened. “You scrubbed my toilet.” He grimaced at that thought.

“In fairness, whatever else was ever said about you, your hygiene is impeccable.”

“Why?” “I told you.” “But why?”

“I learnt you are intelligent and can understand many languages and are very much able to comprehend the spoken word so I don’t think I need to repeat myself again. I know it is something you also dislike. You told me that the first day I spoke to you.” She walked around a little.

Loki studied her for a moment. Watching how she walked, so obviously well-bred and the manner in which she was speaking showing a significant education. He shook his head slightly as he spoke. “My brother said time and again that the Elven princess was raised in a manner that was meek and subservient. You have been insubordinate since the day you walked in here.”

“How can I be insubordinate to you, we are of equal standing. The extra children of the ruling monarch, merely existing in the slight offchance our older siblings do not make it to taking the throne.” She challenged.

“I think your father would rather a republic than have you on the throne.” Loki pointed out, his tone half of anger, half merely stating fact.

“I think he would too but the law is that I can take it regardless of my gender, I just need all four of my brothers to not get on it and have heirs.” She eyed him with intrigue, watching the glut of emotions swirling around in his face. Anger seemed to be winning as the most notable one. “I suggest airing your anger now. It will make this easier in the long run.”

“Was my mother in on this all along?” “Yes. I wrote to her to get her words on your character. Sadly, she gave the view of a biased and loving mother. So, convinced I would see your personality for myself in other ways by being your maid, she suggested I take Tatianna’s place for a few weeks. I can see you have a good rapport with her, so I can see why she would think that.”

Loki felt his anger rise at his mother’s involvement. “My brother, my father?”

“For the Allfather to know anything, he would have had to have come to your rooms whilst I was here, he never did, ergo, he never knew anything of it. Thor was not part of the plan. What I had not anticipated was that he recalled the few occasions that he met me in passing while talking to my brothers over the centuries, especially in Vanaheim. He confronted me, wanting to know why I was playing such games. He did not agree with it but the Allmother and I convinced him to remain silent.”

Loki’s lip curled in anger at his brother knowing such things but also knowing that he had the excuse of being told to say nothing. Not that it would save him from a few choice words and more than a few spells and hard blows when Loki would be able to inflict such on him again. “You spied on me, and you thought it wise?” He scoffed in disgust. “How did you envisage this little reveal going? Pray, do tell.” “I suppose it’s obvious that I had not thought through that fully. I was hoping the Aesir I was meeting was actually a nice being so I would at least feel guilty.”

Loki’s brow rose at that. “You have the audacity to say such things with all your deceit.”

“You literally are nicknamed the God of Lies, tricks and mischief, I would have thought you would have been impressed if nothing else.” “I am anything but.” He became irate at her answers. “You have no right to speak to me like this, you deceitful wench.” He walked to the bedroom door and opened it. “Get out.”

Raven felt hurt but understood fully and had expected him to react in such a manner, sighing, she walked to the door. “Well, it’s done now anyway.”

“What?” Loki had no inkling as to what she was referring to. “Getting this conflict out of the way. I was getting bothered waiting for it.” She spoke as she walked through the door.

“You anticipated this, really?” He did not believe her.

“I anticipated this, at best. I thought you would fly into a rage and throw me out at worst but then again, I thought you had not arrived for lunch because you had realised who I was and were giving me the very much expected silent treatment. Something I would wager all the ore on Alfheim I am going to be receiving from this point forth. I did not think it would last this long.” “What would last this long?” “This conversation. It lasted far longer than I had expected.” She shrugged as she walked to the door.

“Did you really learn to be a maid for this?” “I hardly knew how to be one before. I had to at least pretend to know what I was doing.” “You were so desperate to try and make a fool of me?” “It was never about making a fool of you, Loki. I told you, I wanted to know what to expect here. I tried to find out by other means but to no avail. Unlike you, I had to move to another realm and live with a man I had not met in almost seven hundred years outside of the briefest of moments.” “So you thought the way to get to know me was to scrub my toilet, that is your thinking of me? That is what you considered in getting to know me? I honestly expected you to have little self-respect with how you were raised, what with it being a misogynistic realm but you really do not have any self-worth with how you acted.” He walked over to the main door of his rooms to open it.

“Well, when your muscles ached and you wanted them relieved and when I neatened your belongings, you did not complain and don’t you ever look down at those who clean your toilet. You would not last five minutes in the real realm without your seidr, you pretentious prick.”

Irate at her venomous words, Loki walked forward towards her but stopped suddenly when she flinched as though expecting to be struck. As much as he wanted to say something as vitriolic back, he refrained. “Your little stunt was nothing more than pathetic and ridiculous and your name calling even more so, but it clearly was futile because if your observations were even the slightest bit accurate, you would know I would never lay a hand on you.”

“I knew that. If anyone will bear any physical brunt of this, it will be Thor.”

Loki had to admit, she did learn something in all of this with that comment. “Yet, you flinched as though expecting me to strike you?” “I am not a warrior, I have not learnt how to not flinch when someone rushes forward. But I know you would not. If you had been a risk to me, I would never have come here alone.” She ensured to look him in the eye as she spoke to show her sincerity.

Loki had to admit, that was a valid excuse and indeed statement regarding her safety. “Good, at least you grasped that much in this.” He opened the door fully and indicated outside.

“I guess the deceitful wench will leave the pretentious prick to his day, then.” She walked towards the door.

“Norns but you have to have the last word, don’t you?” Loki pushed the door shut again with some force. “You’re supposed to be silent.” “You literally said one of the things you were looking forward to least about being married to me was that you loathed the idea of a subservient and silent wife. My father should have had someone warn you, I tend to be too sarcastic for my own good, always have been, but you noticed that already too.” “If I had only known.” Sarcasm dripped heavily from every syllable he spoke. He looked at her for another moment. “How could you possibly have thought that we could even attempt to build anything on this?” “You never wanted to build anything, you spoke terribly of me the whole time I was here. You would not even use my name.” “What is with you and that particular issue? Why does it matter so greatly to you?” Loki snapped. “You are like a dog with a bone.”

“What is your obsession with not using it? You have nothing but contempt for me, both in your actions and your words, and have done so before you even realised it was me and do not think for one second I have forgotten your horrid words to your little friend about me, much less my realms’ people. Whatever damage I have done to the idea of creating a cordial relationship, you clean blasted it off the realm long before.” “I already told you, I do not think such, I was just venting.” “I told you in that very same conversation that I do not suffer fools. And if you think me to believe that statement, you are calling me one also.” “I bear no ill thoughts to the Ljósáfar. I would not have my seidr be so strong but for the ability to wield it perfected on Alfheim. I have nothing but respect for the race, you as an individual, on the other hand, not so much since you decided to try and trick me.” “There was no try, I succeeded in doing so.” There was some smugness to Raven’s smirk.

Loki’s lip curled in anger at that statement.

“I recall that day too that you wished to show me that you have no ill against my race, yet my parents and brothers did not deserve the respect required to welcome them, did they?” She shook her head. “You don’t respect us, you respect no one, not even yourself.” This time, she walked to the door and opened it, not wanting to speak to him any further.

“What comes of this?” Loki asked, not wanting to acknowledge her fairly accurate analysis.

“I do not know. You were adamant before, I am nothing but a duty. As a prince, you will be forced to do such duty. Our parents will not forfeit this agreement. My parents because it ensures I am no longer a burden, yours because, as you so crassly put it before, it solidifies my father’s alliance. So I guess we simply avoid one another outside of required interactions. I will not bother you, and you will ignore me. When this farce is done, I will stay in my rooms, you in yours and since I know Thor is being forced to court soon, we do some form of ritual dance that he has as many children as my father and we will not be required to do such things and you can have your conceited little harpy mistress and be happy.”

Loki was going to spit a comment back at her about the woman in reference but he noticed the genuine hurt and heartache in her features that startled him to silence on that matter. He quickly analysed her words again while she seemingly attempted to recompose herself. He did not know what in her statement caused her to react in such a way but it did startle him. “I am still trying to fathom the reasoning for all of this.”

“I wanted to know the true Loki, the one not putting on a facade for his father, or society, the being I would see every single evening after a long day.” “For what purpose?” “I spent my whole life having to be silent in public and mostly silent in private. I spent it being told how to act and who to speak to and how to speak to them. I wanted to know if I had to do that for the next few thousand years again or if it would be different. That is why I did it. I wanted to know if I could finally have someone to actually care for me as a being and not expect me to be what they want me to be, nothing more than a living doll. Norns, but you are right, had I but known.” And with that, she left the room.

#Loki #others #submission #Submitted fic #Hiding In Plain Sight #chapter 10 #wolfpawn

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wolfpawn · 4 years ago

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Hiding in Plain Sight, Chapter 10

Story Summary - Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom/alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other. How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

Chapter Summary - The conflict.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @alexakeyloveloki @cateyes315 @laserpente @bravotheroyalfool @teylacarter91 @heavenly1927

Raven gave him a withering look. “Again with the ‘she’ and ‘her’. You are going out of your way to be insulting at this stage.” “But you are Raven? Not ‘Breanna’?” Loki demanded.

“My grandmother called me Breanna. It’s one and the same.” She dismissed.

“You hid yourself as a maid?”

“In fairness, whatever else was ever said about you, your hygiene is impeccable.”

“Why?” “I told you.” “But why?”

“I think your father would rather a republic than have you on the throne.” Loki pointed out, his tone half of anger, half merely stating fact.

Loki felt his anger rise at his mother’s involvement. “My brother, my father?”

Loki’s brow rose at that. “You have the audacity to say such things with all your deceit.”

Raven felt hurt but understood fully and had expected him to react in such a manner, sighing, she walked to the door. “Well, it’s done now anyway.”

“What?” Loki had no inkling as to what she was referring to. “Getting this conflict out of the way. I was getting bothered waiting for it.” She spoke as she walked through the door.

“You anticipated this, really?” He did not believe her.

“I knew that. If anyone will bear any physical brunt of this, it will be Thor.”

Loki had to admit, that was a valid excuse and indeed statement regarding her safety. “Good, at least you grasped that much in this.” He opened the door fully and indicated outside.

“I guess the deceitful wench will leave the pretentious prick to his day, then.” She walked towards the door.

Loki’s lip curled in anger at that statement.

“What comes of this?” Loki asked, not wanting to acknowledge her fairly accurate analysis.

#hiding in plain sight #Chapter 10 #wolfpawn #loki fic

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

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that sooga gangbang with the zora boys was SOOO GOOOD, what about a sandwich including sooga kohga AND sidon, any way youd like

I gotchu king, you know I love your requests. Let’s go!

“Kohga! Sooga!”

When Kohga was told Sidon came over for a surprise visit, he didn’t think they were serious. But there he was, smiling Sidon present, and waving wildly. Kohga motioned for the guards to step aside, letting him in. Sidon immediately went for a hug, though Kohga DID notice Sooga got a longer hug. Not that he blamed them. Ever since that heat rut a month or so ago, these two seemed closer than ever. Not that Kohga minded, he liked seeing them together. Kohga chuckled once their hug parted.

“What do we owe the pleasure, fish sticks?”

“I have brought a gift, and it could NOT wait till your next visit to the domain! Figured I’d come to visit!”

Sooga nodded, seeming pleased. Sooga enjoyed Sidon’s company, and it was evident, given how he didn’t silence his sunny companion.

“Well, we’re honored, truly. I hope the gerudo didn’t give you too many problems.”

“Well, they were...touchy, but otherwise kind women!”

Kohga snickered.

“They grabbed your ass, didn’t they?”

“One of them did, yes.”

“Knew it. Come on in, come on in, let’s get you something to drink.”

“So hospitable, Kohga! Thank you!”

You could give this guy a piece of flint and he’d thank you till the day he died. Sidon followed them both, lightly humming as he did just that. Sooga slowed down a bit to look at the sack on his back.

“I take it that’s the present?”

“Oh yes! It’s VERY fragile though, you’ll have to wait till we’ve settled down!”

Thankfully that wasn’t very long of a wait. Kohga brought him to the guest room, and after setting out some snacks and tea, Sidon took the sack off his back, and put it on the table, gently pushing it towards Kohga.

“Go on! Open it! I really hope you’ll like it!”

Kohga tore away at the cloth, revealing a small statue. Made from luminus stone, it was a rather well crafted statue of Master Kohga himself. Kohga held it in his hands, and his legs couldn’t stop moving in his excitement.

“No. Way. No WAY! I look GOOD in luminous stone!”

“You look good everyday, Master Kohga.”

“Flattery gets you everywhere, Sooga. Imma go put this in my room, you two wait here for a second!”

Kohga was practically jumping as he made his way back to his room. He placed it on his nightstand, giving it a good look over. They even sculpted his mask just right. He wanted to sit here and admire it all day, but he had company over. He made his way back to the hallway, and was about to enter the room again, when something possessed him to not enter the room, just yet. He pushed the door open, just a crack, and eavesdropped.

“So I hope we didn’t make things awkward between us, Sooga.”

“Not at all. Master Kohga ordered it so, ergo there’s nothing awkward to be had. I can tell it has been weighing heavily on your mind.”

“It’s not just WHAT I did, Sooga,”

Kohga peered through the crack of the door. Sidon slid his hand over, and held onto Sooga’s. They both looked at each other, with Sidon looking honest, absolute heartfelt.

“It’s what I’d like to do again. I very much enjoyed your touch. I enjoy being with you. With your permission, I’d like to do it again, however you see fit.”

Now Kohga could be mad. Could bark at him for trying to sneak into his man’s dm’s, or. Kohga could be smart about this. He pushed open the door, making them both jump.

“Think you’re missing SOMEONE’S permission in all of this, duel dick.”

Sooga jumped up in a panic, shaking his head wildly.

“Master Kohga please! I wasn’t going to-”

“Shh. I’m not talking to you.”

Sidon gulped, clearly being put into the spotlight.

“I didn’t mean to get in the middle of your relationship! I swear to you! I just-”

Kohga started laughing. There was something SO funny about these two idiots. Kohga took a step forward, shaking his head.

“Listen. I’m not mad at all. In fact, I’m not even saying no.”

That seemed to surprise them both, given their faces. Kohga held that big, shark face in his hands, lightly squishing his cheeks.

“What I’m saying is, you can fuck my Sooga as MUCH as you want. As much as HE wants. But, with MY conditions.”

Sooga butted in, clearly a bit flustered.

“Master Kohga, I told you my body was YOURS, no one claimed you had to share it!”

“One, I’m not saying I have to. I want to. Two, are you saying you DIDN’T enjoy getting fucked by Sidon?”

“I’m n-not saying that! I did enjoy it! I just-”

They both seemed a bit embarrassed by this, averting their gaze from one another like a couple of lovesick fools. It was cute, from a top’s perspective. Kohga let go of Sidon’s face, shrugging.

“See? You two like fucking each other. That’s all there is to it. So, why don’t we just be adults about this? Sidon, babe, you can fuck my Sooga, here and now. IF I get to be the meat in this here sandwich.”

Sidon didn’t seem to be following, and neither did Sooga. Bottoms. Kohga groaned, shaking his head.

“I MEAN the three of us fuck, you gorgeous idiots.”

The realization hit them both like a ton of bricks. Sooga was about to protest, when Sidon nodded eagerly.

“I have no objections on that end! I’m rather fond of you both! Assuming that is fine with Sooga here.”

They both looked at him, and Sooga stammered, trying to find a proper response. Kohga always needed to help this loser have fun. He motioned Sooga to lean down to his level, and pushed his mask to the side a bit, pecking his lips.

“If you don’t want to, you can say no. But I think you’d have fun. You have two studs here who want to make you feel good. Granted I’d still be the head honcho, but I mean, you know I take care of my boys, right?”

Sooga seemed hesitant, before Kohga pulled out the big guns.

“It’d make me very happy~”

That was ALWAYS enough to convince Sooga. He sighed, and nodded.

“I...suppose if it’s alright with you both.”

Sidon acted as if this shit was a bond of friendship, rather than an invitation to a threeway, scooping them both up in a hug.

“Oh joy! I’m completely honored! Where exactly are we taking this?”

“Sooga’s room. Which he can totally carry me there.”

Sooga knelt down to scoop Kohga up in his arms, right before Sidon lifted him Sooga up in his arms, grinning wildly.

“Please! Lead the way, and I shall follow!”

Kohga looked at Sooga, before putting his hands behind his head.

“We should keep this guy. Assuming you wouldn’t get too jealous of him~”

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

“God you two are REALLY into this”

It had been only a few minutes into this (hell they JUST got their clothes off), when Kohga decided it’d be cute to have them kiss each other. Apparently they took ‘kiss’ as ‘make the fuck out’. Kohga was nestled in between them, Sooga at his back and Sidon at his front. He sat there, watching as Sidon not only locked lips with his man, but practically forced his tongue down his throat. Hell, Kohga could see the bulge right in his man’s throat, and Sooga wasn’t at all complaining. He seemed to be enjoying himself, holding onto Sidon’s face as he groaned and moaned into it. Kohga almost felt left out, watching them enjoy one another like that. Then Kohga looked down. Sidon’s dicks were already at full swing, and Kohga knew just how he could reel the attention back to himself. He handled one in his hands, slowly stroking it in his palm. Kohga was apparently VERY good at this, as it was enough to make Sidon pull away, big, long, thick tongue hanging out, all soaked in drool like a dog (Kohga had a type it seemed). He lapped at his lips, looking down at Kohga’s hand.

“Your...hand is quite soft, Kohga.”

Sooga nodded, taking a minute to rest his chin on Kohga’s bare shoulder.

“Master Kohga is VERY soft.”

“But in a stud way.”

“The studliest, Master Kohga.”

They shared a kiss for a moment, before Kohga noticed Sidon was lightly thrusting into his hand. He REALLY wanted this, didn’t he? Kohga leaned down, and dragged his tongue across the length of that nice, big girth. It made Sidon shake, grabbing onto the sheets.

“You know, Sidon, I’m well aware you got the hots for Sooga here, but let me tell you, when I’m done with you, imma be the only one on your mind.”

And Kohga didn’t mean that as a flirt. He meant it as a promise. He leaned down, decorating that big (one of them anyway, Kohga was just ONE man), throbbing spike in kisses, before slowly taking him in his mouth. The spiky bumps at the end felt good going across his tongue, and even better when it slowly made his way down his throat. Sidon was damn near shaking as Kohga took him in fully, mask bumping against that rocking Zora bod of his. Sidon watched in fascination as Kohga kept at it, right before he slowly pulled away, drool still connecting his mouth to that one succulent cock. Sidon swallowed, somehow finding his voice after a moment of panting.

“I...not aware you were so talented, Kohga.”

“You’re a big guy, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve handled bigger. You’re up there on the sun scale though, two for one deal here. And excited too, don’t think I can’t see you twitching.”

Kohga sat there, stroking that slick cock in his hand for a moment. He tasted salty, like seawater, and in a way, Kohga was kinda into it. He made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger.

“Now, you gave Sooga a kiss. My turn.”

Sidon didn’t have a qualm in the slightest, holding onto Kohga’s chin, and pressing his lips against his. It started cute and sweet, until Sidon’s tongue worked his way into his mouth, and Kohga actually found himself almost gagging. It wasn’t the size, as that dick was bigger, but it was the way it moved. It squirmed and writhed inside of his mouth, as if he intended to reach inside of him, and eat his entire heart. Kohga loved it. Even loved how Sooga watched, leaning his hand over to play with his Master’s cock, nice and quickly, just how he liked it. Sidon was so into it, Kohga had to pat him on his chest to get him to pull away (and Kohga could hold his breath for QUITE a long time). Even watching him pull away was kinda hot, honestly. Kohga chuckled (like the dumb thot he was), wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“You are a FUN boy. Now, let’s put that dick to good use, eh?”

They both seemed to know what he meant, and both made the motion to lift Kohga up. Their eyes met, and Sooga cleared his threat.

“I’m sorry- this is my job. You are the guest.”

“I AM the guest. Ergo, it should be in MY honor.”

Kohga almost wanted to let them fight. Ooh, two absolute dream boats fighting over who got to hold him. It was the life. He let them bicker for just a minute more, before he reached up and grabbed Sooga’s cheek, lightly patting it.

“Let our guest do it, Sooga. You’re a good boy, remember?”

Sooga grumbled a bit, before nodding. Sidon stuck his tongue out at him, before picking Kohga up, wrapping his arms under Kohga’s, holding him up. Kohga nearly shuddered as he felt that big, throbbing cock press up against his back. Sooga seemed to immediately be jealous, pressing himself against his front, and essentially making Kohga sandwiched between two sets of abs. Kohga could swoon, honestly. He watched them press their foreheads together, eyes practically shining in competition. He was half expecting a war here, so Kohga chuckled, lightly poking Sooga's mask.

"Easy, easy. You're a good boy. Act good in front of the company. You can even go first if you want."

"...you’re very kind, Master Kohga. The most kind, most handsome man ever."

"I try. Now, fuck me, right in my ass, my big, pretty boy."

With one more kiss, Sooga obeyed, holding onto Kohga's ass (and grabbing him a bit harder than usual), and pushing himself into his ass. Sidon took that as a que to follow suit, slowly pushing himself into Kohga's ass. Kohga actually shook a bit. Oh that was a STRETCHER of a cock. Kohga threw his head back, feeling both of those sweet, sweet cocks pulse inside of him. Sidon leaned his face into his neck, and bit down. It wasn’t a sweet love bite either, but a good, hard bite, right onto that sweet, sweet spot. Sooga made the move to push him away, but Kohga held his hand up.

"N-no. Let him. He's a guest. He can bite all he-ho shit."

Oh that one felt REAL good. He could feel the trickles of blood run down his arm, and it was just, SUPER hot. But Kohga couldn’t ignore his poor Sooga. He made himself breathe, before motioning Sooga to go ahead. Sooga did just that, starting to thrust himself into his ass, even taking the occasional moment to lean in and (rather possessively) smooch his man. Kohga chuckled, noticing how his glare kept turning to Sidon.

"Aw. Is someone worried a big fishy prince is going to take me away?"

Sooga muttered under his breath, only for Sidon to start to move in tandem to Sooga's thrusts. They seemed to grow more possessive of him, constantly taking turns kissing and shoving their tongues into his mouth. It was a wild combination of drool, moans, and possessive growlings. They both wanted Kohga's affections, and Kohga didn’t at ALL mind it. Didn’t mind their throbbing, hungry cocks, didn’t mind their ravenous bitings, their starving, eager nails scratching against his skin and tearing into him like he was a meal. All while Kohga just sat there, pumping his cock and moaning for them to keep going. You'd think Kohga was being lazy.

You'd be wrong. Kogha didn't need actions to be in charge. His voice was enough to command them, and both obeyed with no hesitation.

"Fuck me harder, both of you. Don't treat me delicately, fuck me like you WANT me. I wanna see who can plow my juicy ass better. I want to be fucking SORE, come ON!"

Kohga was a very high demand man. As such, he wasn’t easily pleased. He didn’t need JUST a huge cock. He needed hunger, lust, devotion, force, and absolute submission to please him. These two had to work hard for that, and Kohga, upon finally cumming, getting thick cum all over his hands and Sooga's chest, decided now was their reward.

"Cum inside of me. Now."

It was a simple command, and somehow, it worked. With panting, eager breaths, they came. Sooga came first, stuffing Kohga's ass full of cum, only for it to essentially be flushed out by Sidon's load. Cum was not only in his ass, on their cocks, but on their sheets in pretty much a puddle. The three of them sat there, not moving, aside from loud, heavy breaths. Then Sidon chuckled, sounding kinda wounded.

"That...was exemplary~"

"Eh I'd say 'that was fucking GOOD', but yours is good too. Hoo, you boys were READY for me apparently. Haven't felt this full in a long, long time."

Sidon's coarse tongue dragged against the freshly made wounds, and while it stung, Kohga found himself kinda into it, petting Sidon's head as he went along. Sooga sat there, and was trying (and failing) not to look jealous. Kohga chuckled, pinching Sidon's cheek.

"What's say we let Sooga have a turn this time eh?"

Sidon looked up from Kohga's shoulder, leaning up to bite at Sooga's bottom lip, chuckling.

"Only if you permit me. Master Kohga."

Those sounded DAMN good coming from a prince's lips. There WAS always room for more than one good boy.

#asks #kohga #sooga #sidon #lemon #lowkey #sidon just likes to compete against Sooga #and be called a good boy #both are good boy motivated

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renaerys · 4 years ago

Text

PPG One-Shot: Six Degrees Chiller (Brick/Blossom)

A new cute one-shot in honor of @carriedreamerx birthday! In the same high school AU as part 1, part 2, and part 3, but can totally stand-alone. Also posted on my AO3. Tune in for some laughs and some Reds cuteness!

Summary: Brick goes deodorant shopping. It doesn't end well. (Or does it??)

xxx

Brick squinted at the nine-foot shelf packed with a full color wheel of deodorants and antiperspirants. The sheer surfeit of brands and scents was as daunting to behold as it was absolutely batshit insane—how many ways did people need to not smell like a dirty gym sock?

He picked a random stick and scowled at the label as if it had offended him and all his future progeny. Who the fuck would want to smell like mango lassi?

The squeak of a shopping cart rolling down the aisle sent Brick into a febrile panic for a hot second, and he shoved the saccharine deodorant stick back onto the shelf. A geriatric woman with a hunched back, a bright head scarf, and eyes so folded over with wrinkles it was a miracle she could see anything at all wheeled her cart slowly past Brick, who froze where he stood. She smiled politely at him, and he nodded out of sheer self-preservation instinct. The moment she passed him, he yanked the bill of his red cap lower over his eyes.

“Get a grip,” he grumbled. He was an eighteen-year-old guy buying deodorant, not stool softener. He was totally casual and had absolutely no reason to be so fucking paranoid. Nobody who might recognize him was coming to Cooper’s Market at 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Brick wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and searched the shelves for what he’d come for so he could hurry up and leave. There it was, fifth shelf in a sea of sleek black and edgy, neon letters: Axe Ice Chill.

“Okay, do you consider yourself more of a music lover, sports star, gaming guru, or style icon?” Boomer had asked as he sat cross-legged on the sofa with his laptop open to the Axe “Find Your Magic” test a few months ago.

“Sports star,” Butch had said on his left, and poked the screen that wasn’t a touch-screen.

“That’s you, moron,” Brick had said, totally above this stupid test. “Pick style icon.”

Boomer grinned. “Oh yeah, your hoodies are so stylin’.” He clicked the next question. “Signature scent? Huh, maybe warm and aromatic?”

“Sounds like one of those Yankee holiday candles,” Butch had said.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

“Well, you're not exactly woody and earthy, and you’re definitely not fruity and sweet—”

“Just go to the next one.” Brick clicked on “fresh and cool” and waited for the screen to load. “Smellin’ good!” the loading page flashed at him. Jesus fucking Christ.

When the quiz presented a true or false statement, Butch moved like he had a bug up his ass and slammed the touchpad before Brick or Boomer could do anything about it.

Boomer tried not to laugh. “Dude, come on.”

“Please, he’s a punk-ass dweeb who’d never make the first move in a fight, let alone on a girl—” Butch had taunted.

Brick punched him in the throat with his Super speed and smiled at the sound of his asshat brother gagging. “Choke and die, motherfucker.”

Butch wheezed as he laughed through the pain, and Brick and Boomer breezed through the more generic age and appearance questions: under 18, long hair (“Mane Man!” the quiz gushed, and Brick almost melted Boomer’s laptop right there), and natural look. After an artificially anticipatory loading screen, a picture of a dude with a clown nose crowd surfing in a sepia Instagram filter appeared on the screen with the generic “Be your best self!” encouragement in blocky letters superimposed upon it, and finally the expert, personalized recommendation for Brick’s body spray needs.

“Because you’re hotter when you’re chill.” Brick had cringed when he read that idiotic tagline the first time, and he cringed reading it again now in the deserted personal hygiene aisle where he prayed no one would find him buying this cry-for-help vanity spritz.

However.

He sprayed a bit of mist in the air and reveled in that cool, icy scent that wasn’t a scent so much as a feeling. Six degrees chiller in a bottle. The first time he’d tried it (under great duress), he’d griped and bitched and slammed his bedroom door to get away from his howling brothers. Settled on his bed with a frown, he had to admit it did cool him off. It was almost pleasant. The smell wasn’t overwhelming like that tiger piss Butch bathed in on the daily. But it wasn’t out of this world compared to the generic shit he’d been using before.

It wasn’t until Blossom sneezed on their way out of AP Lit that her ice breath—and understanding—hit him with the force of a cold snap to the balls.

“Sorry, did I get you?” she’d said, abashed as she covered her mouth with one hand and fished out a bottle of Purell from her messenger bag with the other. Her ice splatter fast melted on his shoulder as his too-warm body absorbed the cold with a bizarre, but extremely pleasant, shiver down his spine.

Son of a bitch, but he had a kink.

Which, of course, spiraled way the hell out of control when he found himself here months later with a recycled shopping bag he’d brought so he could carry the three bottles of Axe Ice Chill he planned to purchase home, because Brick planned ahead and liked to keep his bathroom well-stocked.

Which also, of course, was why at that very moment, fate decided to punch him in the dick.

“Bubbles, you have, like, fourteen bottles of shampoo at home! You don’t need another one,” Buttercup groused at 8 in the goddamned morning on a Sunday.

“Those are all different products, not just shampoo. Honestly, Buttercup.” Bubbles zipped into the aisle with Buttercup on her tail just at the moment Brick had his second panic attack in the span of five minutes and completely lost his shit.

He launched the bottle of Axe Ice Chill so hard into the ceiling that it lodged in there tighter than a prairie-dogging turd.

“Brick?” Blossom’s hand on his shoulder nearly sent him yeeting after his abused body spray, if the sheer mortification didn’t rob him of further motor function and exactly one hundred percent of his brain cells.

Like her sisters, she wore a jacket over her pajama pants. They must have just popped over for some last-minute breakfast staples and a side of peer humiliation. But even in those criminally hideous Ugg boots and five boxes of pancake mix in her shopping basket at 8 on a fucking Sunday morning, her smile glowed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he returned lamely, because that was all she was getting from him until his neurological functions rebooted.

“Hi, Brick,” Buttercup said, suspicious like usual and searching for some excuse to bust his balls for a laugh. “What’re you doing here?”

The Super sisters had cornered him in front of the Teen Spirit, which came in an absolutely frightful eighteen scents because there was nothing pubescent teenagers needed more than eighteen reassurances that their social survival depended on smelling like a potpourri candy bar.

“Shopping, obviously,” Bubbles said. “Ooh, Brick, you have straight hair. What do you think?” She held up two bottles of brightly colored free-range, organic hair shit.

“I think I was just leaving,” he managed.

“Empty-handed?” Buttercup peered at him like he might transform into a literal dick with ears if she only managed not to blink for long enough. He could smell the threat of a joke on her.

“They didn’t have the brand I wanted.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Bubbles said, genuinely stricken.

“Girls, let’s get going. I really want those pancakes,” Blossom said.

“We better grab more syrup. Buttercup finished it all,” Bubbles said, already moving away. She dropped both hair products in Blossom’s basket, not bothering to choose between them.

“Oh please, everybody knows you and the Professor are the syrup fiends in this house.” Buttercup floated after her and waved to Brick. “Hey, tell that shithead to answer my texts. He owes me $20.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said, fully intending not to mention anything about this conversation to Butch at all.

“Sorry about your favorite brand being sold out,” Blossom said.

It’s fine, he would have said had she not caught his cheek in her hand and pressed a frosty kiss to the corner of his lips before he could do anything about it. Frozen fernlings crept over his cheek and chin, down his neck, and slowly absorbed through his now flushed skin, and he shivered. Without even thinking about it, he reached for her, but she was already walking away to catch up with her sisters.

When she got to the end of the aisle, she shot him a cheeky grin over her shoulder and had the nerve to wink at him. “Stay cool, Brick.”

Red in the face and high on her, Brick just stood there like an idiot gawking at his kind of unofficial girlfriend and the singular dominating object of his fantasies, be they sexual or otherwise. What was dignity when she smiled at him like that? What was a paltry imitation in a bottle when she kissed him like that?

The paltry imitation fell from its hole in the ceiling and exploded on the tiled floor at Brick’s feet with a winter ferocity that, in that moment at least, rivaled Blossom’s in the heat of battle.

When Brick got home later that morning and Boomer asked him why he smelled like a snowman’s asshole, Brick burned the clothes on his back and spent the next half hour in the shower thinking about how he was going to convince Blossom to make the first move and finally make them official.

xxx

Y’all better appreciate the research that went into this fic. That Axe quiz is real and I took it pretending to be Brick, and it literally does spit out a photo of a dude wearing a clown nose in a club. If that’s not a sign from the Daddy that I’ve chosen the righteous path, then idk what is. Sacrifices to my Chrome search history were made for this fic in the name of celebrating Carrie, ergo, worth it.

#Blossick #PPG Reds #Blossom #Brick #Powerpuff Girls #PPG Fanfic #Powerpuff Girls Fanfiction #february fic prompts #ppg shook

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quidfree · 5 years ago

Note

That’s ok! How about #6 for James/Sirius, thanks for doing this!

this could have gone in a lot of directions but since sirius initiated the last one i’ve gone w this setting - and also alternated POVs bc i needed some sirius perspective this time around.

6: i’m sorry kiss

when he awakens in the middle of the night, a tattoo beating through his dreams, to the muffled sounds of conversation in his foyer, it’s equal parts disorienting and expected. in some way, he feels like it’s a dream; in another, he feels like he was waiting for this all night, all week, for five summers, maybe.

it’s somewhere past two in the morning when james pads downstairs, almost tripping over himself, and his parents are in their gowns by the door, faces open and welcoming, and sirius is silhouetted between them, comically out of place in the normalcy of the potter home, all sleek inky lines and barely constrained thunder. he looks to james immediately, instinctively, before james has even looked up from the stairs; it’s a dog thing, probably.

sirius doesn’t look thunderous now. sirius looks misplaced like james has seen him maybe once before, and there’s something almost- he doesn’t know. maybe fragile. something fragile to his gaze.

sirius is never fragile. sirius is not the impenetrable fortress he thinks- everyone thinks- he is, but sirius is steel under silk, inflexible beneath the theatrics. there is a fragility to his moodswings, a delicacy to his passions, but even at his most upset sirius always commits himself fully to his rages, to his sorrows. james is sure that when he left grimmauld place he was not fragile, that he was at his very best-worst, raging and contemptuous and blazing with passion. it makes this fragility somehow james’ responsibility, and he is overcome with the intense need to force it back down wherever it came from, like it’s its fault that sirius even considers james might turn him away now.

it has to be that- the uncertainty. he’s not being egotistical. sirius is afraid of nothing because nothing has power over him. james has power over him, ergo sirius can be afraid of james, sometimes, just within those infinitesimal spaces where sirius thinks they’re on uneven footing. sirius can be stupid like that, because those uneven spaces where sirius is not in control are the ones where james is utterly controlled by him. james is perfectly content to tussle for obedience with sirius at his very meanest, but for sirius unmoored he will do anything, thoughtlessly.

he doesn’t voice this, because even diluted to its purest form if he said “sirius, you are a lovely idiot” right now his parents would find it very mean. so instead he hops the last step and shoves through the space left between his parents and drags sirius physically into the realm of the living, big swooping hug that is more bone-crushing than comforting, he’s sure, but then with sirius that’s sort of the same thing. he lifts sirius off his feet, almost, even though sirius is still damnably taller than him and he’s starting to suspect he will be for the rest of their days. sirius does not sag bonelessly into him, all unfriendly sharp angles like always, but his fingers clench and unclench reflexively near his stomach and when he puts him down his gaze has refocused.

“all right?” james asks, simply, still holding onto his arms, eyes catching onto the mottled bruise under his eye and the bloody scrape down his palm, cataloguing the one bulky suitcase by his feet and the faint hum of an engine nearby.

“all right,” sirius echoes, mirror that he is, and he’s not really lying so james allows it.

they detach in unison, and james glances very briefly at both of his parents with all of his well-honed powers of persuasion, but he can tell it’s not warranted. it’s not like they’re short on money, and his parents adore sirius.

“i’ll go park my bike,” sirius says, and james, very briefly, is dizzy with the knowledge that in sirius’ mind there existed some reality where james would say no, somehow. he recovers in record time, sticks his hands into the pockets of his flannel bottoms.

“i’ll get us butterbeers,” he says, knowing no one will protest. sirius nods.

they’re still not allowed to use magic outside of hogwarts, underage as they are, but james and sirius have spent years testing loopholes for this sort of thing, so he knows he can get away with a little (or a lot, even, if you consider transfiguring yourself into an animal a lot), waves his wand so the drinks are fixed in record time. his mother hugs him to her, sighing a little, then steps back.

“i’m glad he’s here now.”

“so am i,” james says. then, feelingly: “i hate his family.”

“i know, darling.”

he really does, is the thing, genuinely hates them, and he doesn’t hate anyone, not really. maybe voldemort and his lot, but then he doesn’t know any of them, except sirius’ family, and god, he really hates them. hates them with a sort of incredulous edge, because he doesn’t understand anyone who can mistreat sirius. and he knows he’s had it easy and his parents love him more than anything but it still just doesn’t compute that there are families out there who exude cruelty in their every interaction, who nurse their babies on spite, who handle insubordination with vicious rage, and who can’t fathom that they’re in the wrong for it.

never mind them, anyways. sirius has left and sirius is fine, will be fine, now. james won’t spare them a thought again.

his father levitates sirius’ bag upstairs, and they duplicate his mattress so sirius has somewhere to sleep, but it’s more for sirius’ peace of mind than anything else. if they do manage to get sirius to sleep at all it won’t be on his own bed.

“here,” james says, when sirius reappears, handing him a change of clothes and a toothbrush. “you can use my towel.”

sirius blinks down at him, takes the offering. “this is my shirt.”

it is. james doesn’t know how it ended up in his possession, but then that’s true of most things between them.

he thinks, as he listens to sirius shower, quick and efficient and not at all the hour-long dramatics he’s used to from hogwarts, that he is maybe a terrible person, because in a way he’s almost glad sirius’ family is so horrible, so sirius can just be here, where he belongs, in james’ house with all the rest of james’ things. and that makes him sound creepy, and crazy, and he doesn’t mean it like that, but he doesn’t know how to put it otherwise.

he’s sure he never used to think about these things so much. all of this weird interpersonal introspection. that’s sirius’ influence. sirius complicates things, and paradoxally makes them easier. sirius is so odd, and so unlike him, and yet somehow they are exactly the same, and sometimes-

the shower cuts off, and james runs a hand through his hair, stops thinking so much. sirius is here now but sirius is in a state, most likely, and until that’s fixed the rest doesn’t matter.

—

when he re-enters the bedroom james is sat on his bed with a knee propped under his chin, snitch between his fingers like he’d caught it just before sirius came in, and he looks like he has on a thousand other nights, tousled and sleep-warm but alert, brown eyes and a keen gaze. home, something in sirius says, very confidently, home home home home.

something else in him, unflinching and cold and defensive, stays wary. this is almost more instinct than the other, because rationally he knows it’s fine, now; he’s at james’, james won’t turn around and kick him out like a jackass. but ever since he realised he was actually leaving his defences have been on high alert, fight or flight, and it keeps his limbs stiff with tension, his thoughts knife-sharp despite the comfort.

showering helped. the shirt helped. james staring at him helps. he wants to not need to be helped.

james pats the bed, offering silently, so sirius goes, drops into the spot next to him, curls his legs up underneath himself. his thoughts are a strident buzz and he knows he’s not spoken properly since he word-vomited all over the potters on arrival but he doesn’t like the silence, not for right now, only he doesn’t know what to say. or rather he does, can think of plenty of things to say that would make james stop looking like that, except he can’t quite say them, so he just sits there and takes the silence.

“we were going to go into london over the weekend,” james says, catching and releasing the snitch, over and over, thoughtlessly. “dad and i, i mean. buy some new quidditch stuff. i don’t suppose you want a broom.”

“i’ve told you a million times-”

“yeah, yeah,” james says, rolls his eyes, “when you fix up that piece of junk it’ll fly better than any broom, sure, live your delusions.”

sirius almost smiles at that, but: “i don’t have any money, anyways. i don’t have anything, currently. my wand and some shit i shoved into that suitcase.” it makes his lips curl, bleakly: “don’t have the money to buy my textbooks, even. reckon dumbledore’ll let me do without?”

“don’t be an idiot,” james says, firmly. “you live here, now, don’t you? my parents’ll cover it.”

“i don’t,” sirius starts, then stops, because this is so predictable, all of it, i don’t want their charity, except he does, evidently, or he can live with it, because otherwise he’d not have run straight here. he’s had time to think about this, despite the recklessness of his departure. he hates to be a burden and he hates to be dependent but in this regard it’s something he’s resigned himself to.

“they’re as good as your parents,” james continues, after a beat. which is funny because they’re better, actually, given that he has no parents- he suffers no delusions that walburga didn’t blast him off the tapestry the moment his feet hit the pavement.

“we hardly pass for brothers, prongs.”

“your in-laws, then,” james adjusts, unconcerned, and that makes sirius crack the slightest of smiles, despite himself, glance sideways to raise a brow at him.

“in that case i’ve missed something, i think.”

“you mean the marriage contract we had you sign at the door?” james asks, switching tracks seamlessly into well-humoured mockery, his expression wholly innocent. “you’re just such a catch at the moment, you know. had to sweep you up before any other blood traitor family got their bid in.”

“i have always gotten that vibe from molly weasley,” sirius throws back, and smiles again when james laughs, because molly weasley is as far from interested as it can get.

“seriously, though,” james says, sobering. “i don’t just mean money, although you will have noticed that we aren’t exactly lacking it. this is yours, now. all right? has been for a while.”

by this he means this house, and this room, and the borrowed shirt, and himself, probably, because sirius only has claim to the rest through him, and that’s- fine. that is fine. relying on james potter is something he can do.

his shoulders relax a fraction; he picks at the bedsheet (all red and gold all over, bright and proud and comfortable), lets stray strands of his hair fall into his eyes. it’s as long as it’s ever been; he’s been growing it out all summer in strident rebellion, regrowing whatever walburga cuts off, and it hands below his chin now, wildly uncombed.

he wants to say something to close this chapter, so it can be over, so they can move on, like they inevitably will, but the receding clasp of panic has left something heavy in his chest, all blood and bone and inherited poison, and he finds purging it harder than expected. if he were the crying type he expects he would cry, now, but then if he were the crying type he never would’ve ended up here.

he focuses very hard on thinking about it, runs relentlessly through his memories to remember why he hates his family so entirely. he tears down hazy memories of laughter and regulus’ little hand in his, recounts instead months of cruelty and ignorance and shouted arguments, sullen silences and bitterness, and lets it fester in his chest, lets it burn. he doesn’t want peace- he wants righteousness, and he has that in spades.

“i like your hair,” james announces, while grimmauld place crumbles to the ground in flames. sirius looks up. “reckon it’d look stupid on anyone else, but it suits you.”

“thanks,” sirius replies. he’s not quite adjusted enough for cockiness, and besides for some reason the compliment has destabilised him a little, so that he stares down at his butterbeer and then bites his lip. “there was no particular reason.”

“today?” james asks, though he knows, knew; he’s just being helpful, vocalising. sirius nods.

“i always thought there would be. after all the years. the shit i’ve heard them say. i thought at some point it would get- well, i guess it did, in a way. get worse. but not today.”

he finishes his butterbeer on reflex, sets it down. as a rule they don’t talk about these things. it’s generally because sirius doesn’t like to, because he doesn’t like to be vulnerable, mostly because he doesn’t think james can get it and doesn’t want him to. tonight, though, they’re closing a chapter, so it feels expected somehow.

“they’re supporting voldemort openly, now. i didn’t say in my letters. bellatrix and her husband joined over lent, and the malfoys over summer. they were before, i suppose, only not so fully. my parents- they’ve always been the more conservative pair. not keen on supporting any outsiders. but regulus, he...” he trails off, shakes his head. doesn’t want to say it. “he just adores him. the dark lord. fucking spineless moron. and i’ve known that all summer, but for some reason today it just- i don’t know. i saw him leave his room and i just thought to myself, like, what the fuck am i doing here? with these people? and the rest of the evening i was thinking about it, and we started arguing, and while that was happening i knew i was leaving. i couldn’t stay. if i’d stayed longer i’d have offed myself.”

the thing is he means it, but then he never would take his own life, so he’d come to james, like he was inevitably always going to. sometimes sirius has wondered about what his life might have been like, elsewhere, but life without james is an impossibility. it’s not sentimental; it’s fact, and he believes it as much as he believes anything. the two of them fundamentally exist to exist simultaneously. can’t be done otherwise.

james taps a rhythm out against his knee, leans to set his butterbeer down too. he scoots closer gracelessly, brows set and eyes serious, and sirius stills but doesn’t stiffen, lets him into his space.

“i’m sorry,” james says, calloused fingertips on the ridge of his foot. he says it gravely, but not sadly, and sirius can’t imagine what james might possibly be sorry for, opens his mouth to protest, gets cut off before he can. “i’m sorry your family is fucking awful. and i’m sorry that i’m sort of happy they are.”

“that is fucked up,” sirius remarks, undecided as to how he feels, chest tight nonetheless. james only shakes his head.

“i was thinking about it earlier and i didn’t know how to tell you, but i figure you’ll understand. it’s just-” he pauses, scrunches his nose in thought. “it’s good that you’re here now, yeah? that’s why. i’m happy you’re here. it feels right that you are.”

sometimes james is charmingly naive, if he thinks some creepy underlying statement of possession isn’t exactly the sort of thing sirius loves to hear him say. he drags his gaze away only so that he doesn’t look too obvious about it. “yeah. i understand.”

“sometimes,” james continues, thoughtful now, “i feel like you and me are the only two people that exist in the world. you know?”

sirius does. sirius does very much. he wants to clear his throat but doesn’t like to do so, nods instead, turns back. “all the time, jamie.”

“right,” james says, “course you do.”

he looks- something, relieved or enlightened or conspiratorial or guilty or some mixture of all of them, and sirius feels his lungs expand with abrupt ease, so physical a release that he actually shivers a little. this is fine. he’s fine. this is james.

“i am sorry, though,” james repeats, and this time sirius gets it, and so forgives him, even though he could never resent james for anything, even though he will always resent his family for everything.

“yeah,” he says, aloud. a little shaky. forgiveness tastes foreign. “i know you are.”

he doesn’t know how it comes out but there is something blazing in james eyes for a moment, and then his hand is threading through sirius’ hair and he’s tugging him in, not so fast that he couldn’t stop him if he liked, but fast anyways because both of them know he won’t. sirius sits still and watches james kiss him, then closes his eyes.

it tastes like the following: a baptism, divine absolution, and teenaged boy, butterbeer-sweet and somewhere between tender and boyishly rough. sirius is sure the latter is for his benefit, because james can be very pleasant if he wants, but gentleness makes sirius on edge.

it feels good. he could think himself into a stupor but he doesn’t want to, just sits there and takes it, licks his lips when james pulls back. it’s not technically the best kiss he’s ever had, or anything; it was chaste by most standards. sirius thinks he may never kiss anyone else again.

“think that’s supposed to come before the marriage contract,” he says. james’ eyes are bright and content and he’s not fine, he’s good, things are good.

“was saving it for the wedding night,” james says, a brilliant flash of white teeth, and hooks a leg around his waist to reel him in, possessive and friendly and familiar all in one. sirius goes easily, doesn’t know where, but james just wraps them up in each other and tips them over, face to face on his bed, half tangled in the covers.

i love you, he thinks, fiercely, digging his heel into james’ shin until it hurts a little.

james doesn’t shake him off, and that says it all.

#qui ecrit #prongsfoot #anon #prompt #james #sirius #lmv #my fic #good job op

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simonxriley · 6 years ago

Note

So another request umm from your prompt number 57 skylar/glaz please.

Have some more Skylar and Glaz cuteness!! Also sorry this took so long, I just wasn’t in the writing mood until a few hours ago. I hope you enjoy!

#57: “Is that my shirt?”

Russian:

Milaya = Darling

Printsessa = Princess

As quietly as she could, Skylar closed the door leading to Lara’s nursery. She scrunched her face as she let go of the knob, hoping the little one will stay asleep. For a moment she waited outside her door, seeing if she would hear any fussing or crying. When she didn’t, she let out a breath and headed over to check on little 5 year old Sasha.

She peaked her head through the already opened door, seeing Sasha all tuckered out in bed. Skylar leaned against his doorway, smiling to herself as she watched him sleep. He looked so much like Timur, same facial structure, same eyes and same hair color. And he even had the same personality. Little Sasha was a Glazkov through and through.

Skylar opened the door a little bit more, walking over to the bed and gently sat down on the edge of it. She fixed the blankets around him, tucking in his brown teddy bear next to him as well.

It seemed just like yesterday that her and Timur were stuck in that abandoned mine, with no radio and no service and hardly any food or water. How they spent nearly two weeks trying to find a way out. Eventually they both gave up hope that they were going to be rescued, believing they would die down there in the darkness of the mine. And after months of dancing around the subject, they finally confessed loving each other.

She never expected the first time they would make love would be on the dirty ground in a 1950’s abandoned mine. How they both wanted to feel alive again before death finally collected.

A day later they were saved by both the Spetsnaz and FBI and nine months later, they welcomed Sasha into the world.

Sasha was an unplanned miracle to both Skylar and Timur. A permanent reminder that in their darkest hour they came together to create something they love more than life itself. And that they survived.

She brushed some of his black hair out of his face, leaning down to kiss his temple. “I love you my angel.”

She quietly got off the bed to leave, leaving the door opened an inch before heading to her room.

Upon walking in to her room she grabbed her phone to check on Lara, who thankfully was still sound asleep. She set her phone aside to get up to change into something more comfortable.

Going to her dresser she pulled out a pair of baby blue shorts and one of Timur’s white t-shirts and changed into them. She loved how big his shirts were on her and how comfy they were. It felt like he was there, with her and not on a mission right now.

She threw her dirty clothes in the hamper and went to go sit down on the bed, just as she was about to Lara started crying again. Skylar sighed through her nose, then headed back towards the nursery.

Skylar leaned down to pick her up, cradling her in her arms and gently rocked her. “I miss your papa too, but there’s no need to cry, he’ll be home soon.”

She walked over to the rocking chair, sitting down to rock Lara back to sleep. It didn’t take long to fully calm her down, she stopped crying in a matter of minutes. Skylar looked down to see her big blue eyes looking up at her, watching her. She leaned down, kissing her nose. “You just want your mommy, don’t you Lara?”

There was no answer to be had, just blue eyes staring back at her. It was going to be a long, tiring night, so Skylar went for the ergo, making it a lot more easier on the both of them.

She placed Lara back down in her crib while she buckled the bottom buckle around her waist. Picking her up a few seconds later, keeping her snug against her chest as she buckled the back. Now Lara was happy being snuggled up against her mom and Skylar was happy because she could be hands free if needed, while having a non fussy infant.

Skylar walked over to the window, looking out to see the full moon glowing over Vladivostok. It was the first clear night in over a week, she never knew Russia got so much snow. More so than Maine, that was for sure.

The automatic light to the back porch flickered on, engulfing the back yard in light. She could see the snowman Sasha and Timur made a few days ago, before he had to leave on his mission. It still had it’s carrot nose and button eyes and Skylar’s old red plaid scarf around its neck.

She shook her head and chuckled. All it took was Sasha’s big blue eyes as he asked if they had a scarf for his snowman to make Skylar go into her closet and pull out one of her own, knowing it would be ruined. She just couldn’t say no to him, and it was just a scarf, nothing she couldn’t repurchase.

After a moment she decided to head downstairs and make a cup of tea and watch some netflix. Grabbing the tea kettle off the stove to put some more water in it. She turned the faucet on just as soon as she heard the front door open. She set the tea kettle down near the sink, leaving the water running as she walked to the front door.

She smiled when she saw Timur placing his OTs-03 marksman rifle against the wall, then took off his jacket and pulled down his balaclava.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.” She walked over to him, leaning up to kiss him.

“Milaya, I’d thought you’d be in bed.” He looked down to see Lara wide awake and looking up at him. He smiled down at her, then gave her a kiss on the head. “I see our printsessa is awake as well.”

“Yup, every time I put her down she cries.”

Timur grabbed his rifle from the wall, both of the walking into the kitchen. She shut the faucet off, forgetting about making a cup of tea. He walked behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “She wants her mama!”

“I know! It’s that age where they get attached. I remember when Sasha was like this, crying every time I put him down, because I thought he was asleep.”

“They’re cute, you can’t stay mad at them.” He kissed her temple and let go of them. “Why don’t we head upstairs so I can wash the paint of my face and we can watch a movie before getting some sleep?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Skylar headed up first, followed by Timur after he shut the light off. Once in their bedroom she unclipped the top part of the ergo, taking Lara out and laying her on the bed. She automatically began to fuss a little, making her wonder if she should swaddle her. She tossed the ergo on the back of the chair and went for a swaddle blanket.

Timur walked into the room a few seconds later, sitting on the bed as he took the magazine out of his gun and the bullet that was still in the chamber. He put the bullet back in the magazine and placed it on his night stand.

“Did everything work out alright milaya?” He brought his foot up on the bed to untie his boot, glancing over to see her swaddling Lara. “I knew how worried you were before I left.”

She took Lara in her arms and sat down. “Everything worked out really well. Sasha did miss his papa and would ask when you were coming home. Other than that, it was fairly easy and Sasha loves helping me with Lara.”

“I’m glad! I missed you guys too and wished I was here, rather than there.”

“Just be thankful that you don’t have to live on base, and you can be here, with us!”

He placed his boots on the ground and got up. “I know, not a lot of men get that choice. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Skylar watched him walk into the bathroom, eyes darting down to his ass. She looked down to see Lara has finally fell back asleep. She gently placed her down on Timur’s side of the bed and quickly go under the covers, picking her back up and placed her on her chest.

Timur walked out of the bathroom, fresh faced, then headed towards the dresser. He pulled out a black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats, changing into them. He tossed his fatigues into the hamper and got into bed next to her.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, feeling that familiar fabric under his palm. “Is that my shirt?”

She laughed and looked over at him, seeing the confusion on his face. “You didn’t notice downstairs?”

“No. I was busy paying attention to you and our daughter.” He chuckled. “You look good in it.”

“Thanks! I usually wear your shirts when you’re gone, it makes it seem like you’re here.”

Skylar sighed. So much has changed for both of them in the past six years, marriage, kids, Skylar retiring from work to be at home with said kids. She doesn’t regret that decision, leaving work, but she would be lying if she said she doesn’t miss Timur every time he has a mission.

“Like how I wear your dog tags when out on a mission, to keep you close.”

“And don’t forget the family picture in your pocket.”

“And that too.” He chuckled.

They locked eyes, gazing into them. He leaned over, being mindful of the little one asleep on her chest and placed a passionate kiss upon her lips. For first in over 48 hours - if there wasn’t a sleeping infant on her chest she would’ve deepened it. Hoping the night would end a little differently.

Timur pulled away, resting their foreheads together. “I love you!”

“I love you too!”

He went back to his original position beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder again and pulled them close. This was where he was meant to be, in his little house in Vladivostok with his wife and children. The wife and children he was so blessed to have!

#glaz x skylar #oc skylar jackson #timur glazkov #glaz #rainbow six siege #r6s #tachanka/skylar anon

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lady-divine-writes · 7 years ago

Text

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Caring for a Diva” (Rated PG13)

Sebastian volunteers for the illustrious job of watching over Kurt while he's recovering from the flu ...

... and he definitely has his work cut out for him. (1041 words)

Notes: Inspired by my own few days stuck in bed and hating it xD

Part 36 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3

“Sebastian! Sebastian Asshole Smythe!”

“We’ve discussed this, babe,” Sebastian says, kicking his feet up on a throw-covered ottoman as his boyfriend storms in. “The A stands for awesome. Not asshole.”

“The A stands for I’m going to kick your ass from here to eternity if you don’t tell me where my Zuca is right now!!”

Sebastian glances up at his furious boyfriend, eyes burning red, nose raw from non-stop blowing, swaying from foot to foot, and snickers. “What … how does that even make sense?”

Kurt pauses with his mouth open, stuck searching his swirling brain for an appropriate comeback.

But also so he can breathe.

Between waiting for the room to stop spinning and looking for his skating bag, he doesn’t have the time to trade smart-ass remarks with his irritating boyfriend.

“Whatever, alright!? I don’t know and I don’t care! Just give it up!”

“Not gonna happen, Hummel,” Sebastian mutters, returning to his Instagram feed and hearting a few skating videos. “You’re just barely getting over the flu. You only broke your fever last night. Ergo, you’re not going anywhere, young man.”

“I am because I’m giving a lesson today.” Kurt sniffles, then he coughs, hacking so painfully it makes Sebastian’s throat ache. “Rory Kirkpatrick. We’re working on his short program for the Tiny Tots Grand Prix.”

“No, you’re not. I took care of it.”

Kurt pulls a disgruntled face, the thought inconceivable. “What do you mean you took care of it?”

“It means that I called Mrs. Kirkpatrick, told her you were recovering from the brink of death, and offered her Blaine for the afternoon as a replacement. She’s seen him teach down at the rink before, so she happily accepted.” Sebastian doesn’t turn back to his boyfriend, but from what he can see in his peripheral vision, the red in Kurt’s eyes has infected the entirety of his face.

“B-but ... but Blaine doesn’t know his choreography!”

“Give the guy some credit, babe. He’s a quick learner. Besides, your kid’s only in Beta. It’s not like he’s doing Lutzes or anything.” Sebastian chuckles, imagining Rory, with his shock of red hair, his chubby little legs, and his electric-green eyes that pop to the size of hubcaps any time he does something right, execute a move as complicated as a Lutz.

The boy’s head would probably shoot clean off like a firework.

“I’d say things worked out well for everyone, all things considered.”

“But … I came up with his entire performance!” Kurt whines. He doesn’t mean to. He intended on presenting a mature argument, calmly persuade Sebastian to see how important this is to him. Kurt may not be performing in the Grand Prix (sort of a misnomer anyway as it’s mostly ten-and-unders and not a one of them anywhere near Freestyle level), but it’s the first performance for a student that he has fully choreographed without the help of a senior coach. He’s rather proud of it. “He’s my student! You … you can’t do that, Sebastian!”

“The hell I can’t,” Sebastian argues, scrolling past pictures at a blur to appear nonchalant when really all he wants to do is toss his stubborn boyfriend over his shoulder and carry his ass back to bed. “You’re not just my boyfriend, alright. You’re my skater. It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re healthy, and that’s not going to happen if you don’t get your ass back to bed!”

Kurt folds his arms over his chest, unwilling to be ordered around – not by Sebastian, not by anybody. His parents have to be behind this. They called Sebastian to play guard dog. He’ll have to find some way to convince them to call him off.

Which would be easier if he knew where they were.

He scans the living room through blurry eyes, the room tilting sideways as he returns his gaze to Sebastian’s reclining form. “Where are my mom and dad?”

“Well, seeing as I volunteered to take care of you, and they knew you’d be in good hands, they went on a date.”

“They … they did?”

“Yup. They were real excited, too. You wouldn’t want me to call them up and interrupt to tell them their teenage son is acting like a brat now, would you?” Sebastian challenges with an eyebrow raised.

Kurt raises an eyebrow in retaliation. “You wouldn’t.”

Sebastian arches his eyebrow higher. “Try me.”

Kurt glares at him, calling his bluff, inching his own brow further towards his hairline, his forehead cramping. Sebastian flicks his screen, bringing up his contact list, and Kurt backs down.

He doesn’t need to be told on, especially not by his boyfriend, and besides, his folks deserve all the dates they can get. They’d been robbed of so many over the years that his mom had been sick. Maybe it’s not necessary for Kurt to attend this one lesson. He can skip it. Rory did have his number pretty down pat. He just needs a little fine tuning, and Blaine is more than qualified for that. Plus, he has to admit, the way he’s struggling to stand on his own two feet, he could use a few more hours – or days – in bed.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

“Fine,” Kurt snaps, turning on his heel, wobbly but still gracefully, and storms back to his room like a spoiled toddler. Sebastian grins to himself as he watches him go, sneaking a long, gratuitous glance at Kurt’s swaying hips and perfect ass, completely visible through the clingy sleep pants he wears without underwear.

Sebastian doesn’t enjoy fighting with his boyfriend, but it sure is nice to watch him walk away.

“There you go, diva. Back to bed,” he mumbles after Kurt slams his bedroom door shut. He lowers his feet from their rest, toeing up a corner of the blanket to peek at the Zuca hidden underneath, black frame and red bag, containing Kurt’s skates, his socks, his pads, and everything else he’d need to take with him on a trip to the rink. Without those, he’s grounded. There’s no way he’d stoop to using rentals. He’d buy a replacement pair from Walmart before he ever went that route. “Which means you, my friends, are staying right here.”

For those of you who don't know what a Zuca is (because I sure as hell didn't until I put my Queen in skates XD), here's a pic of Kurt's:

#Kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #frankie writes

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sindumplingwrites · 7 years ago

Text

Klarg x Taako || Charmed to Make Your Acquaintance

[Wordcount: 1,770] [Oneshot Type: Mainly fluff] [Summary: Klarg falls in love with the concept of Taako. Taako gets roofied.] [Unedited]

Klarg knew he had a few violent tendencies-- well, a lot of them, actually. He was a bugbear, so of course it was to be expected. Even the inhibitor created specifically to lessen his negative emotions and destructive impulses ended up failing him. It was as if he was destined to be the raging monster that his race had been stereotyped as for so long.

Or so he thought.

When a particularly rowdy trio made their way into his homestead, he figured their intentions weren't pure in nature. One of them even went so far as to throw his precious dog and best friend, Percival, into a fire. This alone was enough for Klarg to be more than willing to end their pathetic lives.

But then he met the eyes of the elf among the intruders. Just catching his gaze had an effect on Klarg that he could scarcely recognize, and the bugbear's anger washed away as quickly as it had appeared.

He felt warmer whenever the elf spoke. He'd go as far as to say he felt safer, even as it was being explained to him that a subordinate had been plotting to assassinate him and had decided to hire the elf and his two friends to carry out the plan.

When the elf introduced himself as "Taako," a feeling of infatuation filled Klarg to his brink. It was then that the bugbear finally interpreted the emotion that he was suffering from as love.

Ever since that day, Klarg had found himself having mixed feelings towards Taako that tended to change wildly and without warning. One moment he'd want to wrap his arms around Taako's thin frame; the next he'd want to wrap his hands around Taako's thin neck.

Now, as he caught sight of Taako wandering the streets of Neverwinter and enjoying the scents of the nearby bakeries, Klarg wanted to whisk the elf off of his feet and run away with him. The unabashed rage Klarg had begun to feel during the long stretch of time where he hadn't be able to catch a single glimpse of Taako was forgotten in the rush of tranquility that washed over the now lightheaded bugbear.

"Taako, my friend!" Klarg boomed, arms outstretched as he bounded over to the elf.

Taako swung around, startled by the familiar voice and the unexpectedness of hearing it in Neverwinter of all places. The wizard had spoken with gods and the actual grim reaper with little to no problems in the past, but only Klarg could ever manage to evoke an anxious response out of him. "Klarg? I see you're in one of your better moods," he uptalked, mentally revisiting the times when Klarg had been less than happy to see him.

"I admit that sometimes I can get a bit out of hand." Klarg grinned down at Taako, drinking in the sight of him. "I'd never actually hurt you, though." He kept his arms open, gesturing for Taako to grace him with an embrace.

Taako relaxed his shoulders and went with a simple high-five instead, much to Klarg's disappointment, glancing around hurriedly as he wondered how long it would be until the bugbear's capricious personality would show itself. "Listen, my guy, I'm glad to see that you're disinterested in pummeling me into the ground right now, but I gotta admit that you can be a bit hot-and-cold."

"Yes," Klarg conceded sheepishly, "I do have a habit of letting my emotions get the best of me. Right now, though, I have an insatiable urge to take you out for tea. I've been adding a few potions to my tea to lessen my more abrasive traits, so there's no need to feel hesitant."

Taako, slightly grateful that Klarg's urge wasn't to murder him on sight, but rueful that Klarg wore his romantic affections on his sleeve, nodded. "I would absolutely love for you to take me out for tea, but I don't think my boyfriend would like that." Taako was lying through his teeth, but he figured it may be enough to turn Klarg away.

Klarg, despite feeling a pang of hurt, simply laughed. He shouldn't be surprised that somebody as downright charming and gorgeous as Taako would be taken. "There's nothing wrong with two friends going out for tea, now is there? You always read too far into things!"

Taako pressed his lips into a thin line, not wanting to awaken Klarg's aggressive side through means of rejection. "Well, a free meal is a free meal. I'll follow your lead, buggaboo," he drawled.

A childlike glee filled Klarg and he grabbed Taako by the arm, his hand being more than large enough to wrap around the wizard's thin bicep. As he led Taako through the streets towards his favorite cafe, the bugbear began to ramble about the mundane features of his life, overjoyed that Taako was willing to lend him an ear. People rushed to get out of Klarg's way as he paraded down the road, his size being more than enough to intimidate them even as he was talking about how important fitting teatime into his schedule was.

Taako raised a curious eyebrow once they entered the warmth of the shop, but said nothing as Klarg sauntered up to the store's counter. Klarg, for the sake of nostalgia, ordered two cups of oolong tea-- one small and the other large --and passed the barista a small vile of red liquid, asking that the barista pour it into the bigger of the two.

When Klarg returned, Taako took the initiative to seat the bugbear and himself at the table nearest to the exit. You could never be too careful around Klarg, after all.

It only took a few moments of Klarg flattering Taako with empty compliments for the tea to be readied and placed in front of the two.

To spare himself the bother of contributing to the conversation, Taako took a long gulp of his tea. Immediately after swallowing, he made a face. Even without his refined sense of taste, he'd know there was something off. After getting a look from Klarg, he offered an explanation. "This tea is hella sweet. I think I'm getting diabetes just by holding it."

To test the accuracy of Taako's statement, Klarg took a sip of his own tea. Setting it down, he cocked his head. "It tastes fine to me." As he finished his sentence, it dawned on him that his tea should be sweet, not Taako's. "Oh god, they must've mixed up our orders! This is bad! I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"Hey now, there's no need to get worked up," Taako interupted, feeling as though Klarg's emotions were starting to tilt to the negative side of things. "It's not your fault."

"No! Your tea has my potion in it! It's a potion of charming, Taako! To further the calming affects of the spell you cast on me when we first met!"

Taako leaned back in his seat, unbothered. "Klarg? Do you know who I am?"

Klarg furrowed his brow, perplexed by Taako's sudden question and how out of place it was regarding the current situation. "Of course, I do. You're Taako."

The elf held up a finger to silence Klarg. "Taako from T.V., to be exact. It'll take more than some love juice to win over my affections, pal. I'm not an easy f*ck, if you know what I mean."

Klarg recomposed himself, not sure that Taako was quite grasping what was going on. "Taako, the potency of that potion was custom-made for me. I'm a bugbear, ergo the potion is especially strong. You're what? One-hundred-fifty pounds? I'm three-hundred-sixty and I made sure that the potion would be strong even to me."

Taako was beginning to see what Klarg meant. As the bugbear explained the gravity of the situation, Taako was beginning to find his gruff, burly voice to be more and more alluring. "Is that right?" Taako fanned himself with his hand, his pride wanting to hide the blush that was rising to his usually pale cheeks. "I'm surprised it takes so much for you to feel such attraction towards me. Usually, those around me fall head-over-heels the moment I walk in the room."

The sight of Taako being affected by Klarg's presence stirred a sense of pride and bliss within the bugbear, even if the wizard's reaction was prompted by magical means. "Well," Klarg started, "I don't think I necessarily need it to feel so strongly towards you, but I do find myself wanting to further add to the emotion."

Taako fidgeted in his seat, suddenly more nervous in regards to Klarg's impression of him than Klarg suddenly slipping into an angry fit. "Yeah, I get that a lot," he managed to say. "I'm.. you know..."

"Taako from T.V.?" Boy, Klarg was loving this situation more than he should.

Taako took a deep breath and nodded. "Exactly. I was thinking..." Taako trailed off, bewildered as to how his usual quick-witted responses had been reduced to fragments of what he was trying to describe.

Klarg nodded, willing Taako to continue.

Taako knew what he wanted, and he knew he could get it if he wanted to. The only problem was that his nerves were out of whack and he couldn't express his whims with the eloquence he was normally able to attain. He was almost convinced that it wasn't a love potion that he'd consumed, and that it was actually just cheap drugs. "I know I sort of brushed off your offer earlier-- the one about the hug --but if you're still up for it, I'd be willing to reconsider."

Klarg was out of his seat the moment Taako finished his sentence, arms open and eager. Taako stumbled into his feet, feeling like he was still a young Taquito with barely any knowledge of seduction, and pressed himself against Klarg's vast chest. Klarg's arms encircled Taako's smaller frame with no trouble at all, and a contented sigh escaped him.

Klarg had waited so long for this moment.

Taako, fully intending to get a kiss out of the bugbear holding him, tilted his chin up determinedly, only for Klarg's arms to stiffen around him. Klarg looked down, his posture rigid, and released Taako.

It didn't take Taako long to realize what was happening.

"As much as I'd like for this to continue," he muttered, his voice strained, "I didn't quite get the use out of my potion that I needed to. I think I'm about to slip into one of my moods, dear."

"Nope," Taako called out, backing away from the bugbear and inching towards the door, "this is oddly turning me on, but I don't think I'm willing to die just to get some from a bugbear." He wasn't sure if his disappointment or his nervousness was stronger at the moment.

But Klarg, shaking with anger, was no longer listening.

#taz #the adventure zone #taako #klarg #the zone cast #fanfic

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