Pairing: Thomas/Harry main, but there's a little bit of Everyone/Harry Kinks: Biting/Marking, cockring, controlled orgasm, intense orgasm, bondage, sex kitten sex, and multiple rounds (all in the last chapter, but hey) Warnings: Beyond the kinks, none. I guess maybe the fact that Thomas is White Court could give it a little bit of a dub con flavor in sections.
Sorry if this isn't what the OP wanted, but it was just such an awesome prompt, and I couldn't resist giving it a shot!
Harry is an oblivious moron. I just feel like I need to say that right now. He’s an oblivious moron who has less self-awareness than a toddler and is somehow capable of ignoring the signs his own damn aura has been throwing out for as long as I’ve lived with him. I’m pretty sure he deserves an award at this point for his determination to stay entirely unaware of anything relating to anyone being attracted to him ever. I can’t say I’m actually complaining, though. It makes my job easier. See, I’m his half-brother, but I take offense to people fucking him, no matter how many times his aura reveals that he’s practically begging for it. He’s my baby brother, he always has been, he’s been mine every moment that I figured out he existed, even before I found him and told him who I was. It’s been getting… stressful, though, keeping him safe. It’s been getting more so the longer he goes without being with anyone. The signs are getting stronger; impossible waves of lust and frustration that pour off of him endlessly. It attracts things, attracts people, my sister Lara certainly not the least among them. I can hardly go near him myself anymore without shuddering, without drinking just the tiniest little bits of it, and he’s starting to think that I’m ignoring him, or that I’m angry with him, or a hundred other things. I’m not, though, although I am annoyed with all these other people around him. The past week has been the worst, though. The past week has been something like hell. Every day I’ve had to help him dodge a different offer, a different bed, and he hasn’t noticed a bit of it. He never does. He never has. Sometimes I wonder how he’s managed to live so long without me looking after him. You’ll understand what I mean when you hear all these stories, though. You’ll figure out that really anyone would do what I did for someone they love, if they really wanted to keep them safe and happy and with only a person who deserves him. And I love Harry, my amazing baby brother, more than I love pretty much anyone. After all, he is the only brother I have, and he can’t look after himself like my sisters. That’s a little off topic, though; I’m here to tell you about the Week of Seductions and Cock-Blocking. MONDAY It started on Monday, but then again, it always does. See, a ritual has arisen recently, one that really, really pisses me off. I might have fixed it, though, after this week, and if I haven’t, well, I’ll be around for a lot of Mondays. See, the first thing on Monday morning, we get a knock on the front door. Harry never hears it, so generally I’m the one who has to haul my ass up and open the door. It’s always the same person, too: Johnny goddamned Marcone. And he always comes bearing gifts of food and tickets to shows and anything else he thinks Harry might want. Usually I take it and dispose of it appropriately, always promising that yes, of course I’m giving it to Harry, I have no reason not to, but on this particular Monday, Harry answered the door instead. I don’t even want to mention how thrilled Marcone was by this. I could feel the waves of happiness wafting off of him from all the way across the room, and I wasn’t even trying. Harry, at least, was decidedly less happy, but I could still feel the lust in him roiling because he’d never found Marcone ugly whether he liked the man or not. I took this as my cue to come up to the front door and drape myself across his arm, though. Marcone’s happiness dimmed and I grinned my perfectly vapid pretty boy grin. Harry shifted his weight a little and I sipped at the feelings on his skin, like I always did. He went just the tiniest bit limp but it wasn’t enough that Marcone noticed. At least, I don’t think he did. He might have. He did look a little pissed after that. Oh well. “Marcone? What the hell are you doing here, scumbag?” he asked, and his voice was tired because he hadn’t slept last night. I knew that because I hadn’t either, because I’d just stayed up with him and complained about my lack of beauty rest. He’d just laughed and said I hadn’t needed it anyway and then we’d talked about his nightmares and we’d sort of cuddled on the couch for the rest of the night. Marcone hid his emotions well, on the surface, but I could feel his confusion. I wondered if he had any idea how useless all of his practice at concealing his feelings was to creatures like me. I hoped he didn’t; I didn’t want to lose my advantage. “I come by every Monday,” he said, and Harry turned his face towards me, blinking owlishly, too tired to be near anyone but me. A surge of lust suddenly hit me, coming from Marcone, and when I glanced at him I saw hunger in his eyes. Harry seemed to see it too because understanding dawned on his face. Silly me, I was actually worried that he’d caught on for a second. He hadn’t, though. Empty Night, he never did. “Oh. Oh! So, uh, I can, um, go out for a while, I guess. In that case. Uh. Yeah. Just, you know, let me get dressed. And then I’ll leave. So you two can have. Alone time. Yeah. Don’t mess up my house.” He tried to untangle himself from me, but I held tight. Some of my previous lovers have compared me to an octopus, although I can’t imagine why. “Harry, this is in no way what you’re thinking it is. I’d never fuck… that.” Marcone gaped, as much as he ever gapes. It was actually pretty funny, and I wrapped my arms around Harry’s waist as an added plus. He settled a hand, perfectly natural, on my shoulder. I guessed it was a byproduct of me slowly, carefully, acclimating him to being touched after he’d gone so many years avoiding it and having it blocked from him. Marcone’s eyes were fixed on the hand as if it were the most shocking thing he’d ever seen and I spared him a smirk. I could see him putting together puzzle pieces behind his eyes, could see a million angry little marks appearing beside my name. “No. I would not stoop to his level either. I suppose this is why I never received any feedback for my gifts?” Harry pursed his lips. “Gifts? Thomas, are you going to explain this to me any time soon? I’m getting kind of confused.” I patted his hip and pulled away, slid him carefully behind me. “Marcone’s been sending you some pretty little poisons,” I said, and I wasn’t lying, per se. They were poison, just not in the sense he’d think. Marcone seemed to know that too because I could see him opening his mouth to protest. “I didn’t want to worry you, so I’ve been getting rid of them for you.” Harry glared and hip checked me out of the way to stand in front of Marcone and I could hardly hold back my laughter. Marcone might have a silver tongue straight from hell, but no one had one good enough to stop Harry if he thought he’d been wronged somehow. “Poison, huh? And here I thought we’d come to an understanding, Marcone.” He stepped closer and stuck one long, pointed finger onto Marcone’s chest. I could hear his heartbeat, his breathing, pick up. His fingers twitched with an urge to grab Harry, to pull him close. The hunger was roiling, in him and me. “He is being untruthful. Come, Harry; I’ll take you out and we can discuss this, yes? I only want the best for you,” he said, and reached out to touch Harry’s arm. I swatted it away and if Harry noticed me do it, he didn’t mention it. “Yeah, Marcone, I’m really going to believe that Thomas is lying to me about something like that. Hell’s Bells, he’s my… he wouldn’t lie to me. Get out.” He slammed the door and Marcone powerful emotions, his lust, his anger, his jealousy, his everything, were abruptly cut off by the wards. I dragged Harry away from the door just in case because I didn’t trust him. I could still feel his aura surging around him, so I kept him home with me for the rest of the day, slowly, carefully, sipping at the excess so I wouldn’t have to worry over someone attacking him if he went outside. If I’d known how much worse the rest of the week would get I’d have almost wished for Marcone to come back and be a nuisance. At least all I had to do for him was give Harry a reason to yell at him, and that was actually entertaining. The other assholes that caused problems during my week of hell were way worse.
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Re: Selfish Cock-Blocking
(Anonymous) 2014-02-18 02:05 am (UTC)(link)Kinks: Biting/Marking, cockring, controlled orgasm, intense orgasm, bondage, sex kitten sex, and multiple rounds (all in the last chapter, but hey)
Warnings: Beyond the kinks, none. I guess maybe the fact that Thomas is White Court could give it a little bit of a dub con flavor in sections.
Sorry if this isn't what the OP wanted, but it was just such an awesome prompt, and I couldn't resist giving it a shot!
Harry is an oblivious moron. I just feel like I need to say that right now. He’s an oblivious moron who has less self-awareness than a toddler and is somehow capable of ignoring the signs his own damn aura has been throwing out for as long as I’ve lived with him. I’m pretty sure he deserves an award at this point for his determination to stay entirely unaware of anything relating to anyone being attracted to him ever.
I can’t say I’m actually complaining, though. It makes my job easier. See, I’m his half-brother, but I take offense to people fucking him, no matter how many times his aura reveals that he’s practically begging for it. He’s my baby brother, he always has been, he’s been mine every moment that I figured out he existed, even before I found him and told him who I was. It’s been getting… stressful, though, keeping him safe. It’s been getting more so the longer he goes without being with anyone.
The signs are getting stronger; impossible waves of lust and frustration that pour off of him endlessly. It attracts things, attracts people, my sister Lara certainly not the least among them. I can hardly go near him myself anymore without shuddering, without drinking just the tiniest little bits of it, and he’s starting to think that I’m ignoring him, or that I’m angry with him, or a hundred other things. I’m not, though, although I am annoyed with all these other people around him. The past week has been the worst, though. The past week has been something like hell.
Every day I’ve had to help him dodge a different offer, a different bed, and he hasn’t noticed a bit of it. He never does. He never has. Sometimes I wonder how he’s managed to live so long without me looking after him. You’ll understand what I mean when you hear all these stories, though. You’ll figure out that really anyone would do what I did for someone they love, if they really wanted to keep them safe and happy and with only a person who deserves him. And I love Harry, my amazing baby brother, more than I love pretty much anyone. After all, he is the only brother I have, and he can’t look after himself like my sisters. That’s a little off topic, though; I’m here to tell you about the Week of Seductions and Cock-Blocking.
MONDAY
It started on Monday, but then again, it always does. See, a ritual has arisen recently, one that really, really pisses me off. I might have fixed it, though, after this week, and if I haven’t, well, I’ll be around for a lot of Mondays.
See, the first thing on Monday morning, we get a knock on the front door. Harry never hears it, so generally I’m the one who has to haul my ass up and open the door. It’s always the same person, too: Johnny goddamned Marcone. And he always comes bearing gifts of food and tickets to shows and anything else he thinks Harry might want. Usually I take it and dispose of it appropriately, always promising that yes, of course I’m giving it to Harry, I have no reason not to, but on this particular Monday, Harry answered the door instead. I don’t even want to mention how thrilled Marcone was by this. I could feel the waves of happiness wafting off of him from all the way across the room, and I wasn’t even trying. Harry, at least, was decidedly less happy, but I could still feel the lust in him roiling because he’d never found Marcone ugly whether he liked the man or not.
I took this as my cue to come up to the front door and drape myself across his arm, though. Marcone’s happiness dimmed and I grinned my perfectly vapid pretty boy grin. Harry shifted his weight a little and I sipped at the feelings on his skin, like I always did. He went just the tiniest bit limp but it wasn’t enough that Marcone noticed. At least, I don’t think he did. He might have. He did look a little pissed after that. Oh well.
“Marcone? What the hell are you doing here, scumbag?” he asked, and his voice was tired because he hadn’t slept last night. I knew that because I hadn’t either, because I’d just stayed up with him and complained about my lack of beauty rest. He’d just laughed and said I hadn’t needed it anyway and then we’d talked about his nightmares and we’d sort of cuddled on the couch for the rest of the night. Marcone hid his emotions well, on the surface, but I could feel his confusion. I wondered if he had any idea how useless all of his practice at concealing his feelings was to creatures like me. I hoped he didn’t; I didn’t want to lose my advantage.
“I come by every Monday,” he said, and Harry turned his face towards me, blinking owlishly, too tired to be near anyone but me. A surge of lust suddenly hit me, coming from Marcone, and when I glanced at him I saw hunger in his eyes. Harry seemed to see it too because understanding dawned on his face. Silly me, I was actually worried that he’d caught on for a second. He hadn’t, though. Empty Night, he never did.
“Oh. Oh! So, uh, I can, um, go out for a while, I guess. In that case. Uh. Yeah. Just, you know, let me get dressed. And then I’ll leave. So you two can have. Alone time. Yeah. Don’t mess up my house.” He tried to untangle himself from me, but I held tight. Some of my previous lovers have compared me to an octopus, although I can’t imagine why.
“Harry, this is in no way what you’re thinking it is. I’d never fuck… that.” Marcone gaped, as much as he ever gapes. It was actually pretty funny, and I wrapped my arms around Harry’s waist as an added plus. He settled a hand, perfectly natural, on my shoulder. I guessed it was a byproduct of me slowly, carefully, acclimating him to being touched after he’d gone so many years avoiding it and having it blocked from him. Marcone’s eyes were fixed on the hand as if it were the most shocking thing he’d ever seen and I spared him a smirk. I could see him putting together puzzle pieces behind his eyes, could see a million angry little marks appearing beside my name.
“No. I would not stoop to his level either. I suppose this is why I never received any feedback for my gifts?” Harry pursed his lips.
“Gifts? Thomas, are you going to explain this to me any time soon? I’m getting kind of confused.” I patted his hip and pulled away, slid him carefully behind me.
“Marcone’s been sending you some pretty little poisons,” I said, and I wasn’t lying, per se. They were poison, just not in the sense he’d think. Marcone seemed to know that too because I could see him opening his mouth to protest. “I didn’t want to worry you, so I’ve been getting rid of them for you.” Harry glared and hip checked me out of the way to stand in front of Marcone and I could hardly hold back my laughter. Marcone might have a silver tongue straight from hell, but no one had one good enough to stop Harry if he thought he’d been wronged somehow.
“Poison, huh? And here I thought we’d come to an understanding, Marcone.” He stepped closer and stuck one long, pointed finger onto Marcone’s chest. I could hear his heartbeat, his breathing, pick up. His fingers twitched with an urge to grab Harry, to pull him close. The hunger was roiling, in him and me.
“He is being untruthful. Come, Harry; I’ll take you out and we can discuss this, yes? I only want the best for you,” he said, and reached out to touch Harry’s arm. I swatted it away and if Harry noticed me do it, he didn’t mention it.
“Yeah, Marcone, I’m really going to believe that Thomas is lying to me about something like that. Hell’s Bells, he’s my… he wouldn’t lie to me. Get out.” He slammed the door and Marcone powerful emotions, his lust, his anger, his jealousy, his everything, were abruptly cut off by the wards. I dragged Harry away from the door just in case because I didn’t trust him. I could still feel his aura surging around him, so I kept him home with me for the rest of the day, slowly, carefully, sipping at the excess so I wouldn’t have to worry over someone attacking him if he went outside. If I’d known how much worse the rest of the week would get I’d have almost wished for Marcone to come back and be a nuisance. At least all I had to do for him was give Harry a reason to yell at him, and that was actually entertaining. The other assholes that caused problems during my week of hell were way worse.