Simon’s got a message to pass on to Baz, but Baz won’t listen. So Simon follows Baz into the woods, where they accidentally run into a faerie fertility rite in progress and get more involved than they wanted to….
Simon
I skipped my final class of the day so I could catch Baz coming back to the room before tea. He has a free period right now, and I know for a fact he usually takes advantage of my absence from the room to get some studying done. Or plotting. Probably plotting.
I need to talk to him. I promised his mum that I’d pass on her message. And I’ve been trying to talk to him. But he’s been avoiding me since he returned to Watford, even though I’ve done everything but shout “your mum Visited me!” across the dining hall.
My bad luck continues, though. When I reach my room, not only is it empty, but I can see Baz’s unmistakable figure from the window, making for the treeline. Probably planning to suck down Bambi’s mum.
Maybe… if I can catch up with him before he gets too much of a head start, maybe I can kill two birds with one stone.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Thorin wasn’t sure what to say. His jaw clamped shut as his eyes went downcast. He felt awkward and exposed and vulnerable. Change was hard, just as it was terrifying, and he didn’t feel quite as authoritative as he normally did. There were no furs to protect him, no mass amount of layers to make him feel armed, but if this was what it took to blend in for a night on the town…then so be it. He’d be back in that fur-lined coat of his before the night was over.
“Do the buttons on the vest offend you? If you glare at them any harder, they might just pop off.” Bilbo asked, approaching cautiously and swatting Thorin’s hands away to finish out the buttons.
“I feel like I belong in a fucking circus.”
Thorin was more of the ringmaster of this particular circus, but Bilbo kept his mouth shut on that one. Low-hanging fruit like that wasn’t nearly as fun to grab a hold of when it came to sassy commentary. “Well, I’ll say it again. I think you look nice.” The words came out far quicker than he anticipated, but there was a strong level of truth to them.
Raising his eyes and finishing off the last button, Bilbo aimlessly was plucking at the dress shirt. “Besides, you might feel better once you have it paired with something to go over the top? I know how much you pride yourself in that big ridiculous coat you wear.”
“It’s not ridiculous.”
“It is, but you wear it like armor. It makes you feel safe, I understand that. Though I can assure you, there are no dangers here.” At least not any immediate dangers by Bilbo’s standards. “There, now you look like you’re ready to hit the town.” The buttons were all fastened, the dress shirt no longer was awkwardly tucked in places around the neck of that vest, and Thorin looked rather sheepish beneath Bilbo’s gaze. Odd as it was to see such a look, Bilbo admired it greatly, even if it did nothing for his blossoming feelings towards one grumpy nut.
Tags: Aged-Up Book One, Shameless Smut, Shouting Match to Lovers, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, fighting to fucking, Dominant Zuko, Bratty Katara, Restraints, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, implied/referenced threat of non-con (in the sense that a female prisoner’s options are bad, and Zuko is freaked out about it)
Summary: Soldiers from Zuko’s ship stumbled onto Zuko and Katara in flagrante delicto during a late night rendezvous in the woods and Zuko played along with their assumptions about the situation. Now he and his very pissed off prisoner/secret girlfriend are back on the ship, er, discussing how to handle what comes next.
Musical Inspiration: Blood in the Cut by K.flay (Not the lyrics, just the vibes. But they’re informative vibes.)
Additional Tags: Post Canon, Established Relationship, Consensual Non-Con, Capture Role Play, Anal, Impact Play, Spanking, BDSM, Fluffy, Bondage, Inappropriate Use of Bending, Temperature Play, Dom!Zuko, Sub!Katara, Dirty Talk, Mild Exhibitionism, Dorks in Love
Summary: Nothing and no one is going to stand in her way from escaping. Katara uses every trick she knows to stay one step ahead of him. Until Zuko enlists help. Now Katara finds herself ‘captured’ and completely at his mercy. Not that she doesn’t enjoy being in Zuko’s evil clutches, but Katara is never going to actually admit that.
