#in my defence. i was like. 15.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesbuzzcutseason · 12 days ago

Text

wicked game

chapter 8 - unfamiliar

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: language, mentions of being spiked

your head was pounding before your eyes even opened. the brightness that drifted through the curtains felt like a personal attack. your mouth was dry, the metallic aftertaste of something bitter lingering.

you sat up slowly, the unfamiliar sheets sliding off your body.

panic set in fast.

this wasn't your room.

and it definitely wasn't sarah’s.

you looked around, eyes scanning over the posters, the mess of cologne bottles, the soccer jersey draped over a desk chair. and then, your heart dropped into your stomach. rafe’s hoodie slung across the bedpost.

no.

the door creaked, and you looked up to see him standing there with two bottles of water and what looked like painkillers. "you’re up," he said quietly, like he wasn’t sure if you’d scream or pass out. or both.

"what happened?" your voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

rafe walked over, handing you the water gently. "some dick spiked your drink," he spoke, his eyes worried. "i found you just before you blacked out. thought you were just drunk, but sarah said you hadn't even drunk much and the last thing you said to her was that your drink tasted weird."

you blinked, the hazy memories flooding back in fragments. the party. talking to sarah. leaving your drink on the counter. that weird, sudden wave of nausea. "and you brought me here?" you asked, confused.

"well i wasn’t gonna leave you there," he said, leaning against his dresser. "didn’t think you’d want anyone else seeing you like that."

you looked down at your clothes, thankful you were still in them. "did you…"

"no," he said firmly, not even letting you finish the question. "i just made sure you didn’t die in your sleep. gave you water. slept on the floor."

you breathed out. "right." your phone was buzzing repetitively on the nightstand. you snatched it up, your heart dropping all over again when you saw the missed calls and messages.

"shit."

"what?' rafe raised an eyebrow.

you were already climbing out of bed, fingers shaking as you tried to find your shoes. "i have to go. i can't- i was supposed to-"

"y/n," he said sharply. "you don’t have to lie to me. if you wanna leave just leave."

you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him. the way he was looking at you, a sadness behind the defence. it made your chest ache.

"i’m not lying," you said quietly, slipping past him.

"what is it then?" he muttered bitterly.

"my boyfriend is waiting for me." you said without looking back, rushing past and out his door.

you ran towards a taxi, quickly speaking to ask them to take you to the airport, heart rushing and panic setting in.

15 minutes later and you were there, spotting lucas sitting on a bench just outside the terminal, his suitcase next to him, head bowed as he scrolled through his phone.

your guilt hit you like a brick.

he looked up at the sound of your footsteps, relief instantly flooding his expression. "there you are," he said, standing quickly. "i was starting to think you weren’t coming."

you forced a smile, walking up to him as calmly as you could manage. "i'm so sorry," you said breathlessly, "my phone died, and i- i think my drink got spiked and then i... um... i stayed at kie's after the party. just crashed there." the lie came easily.

his arms came around you without question, and you hugged him back, though your limbs felt like they weren’t quite connected to your brain. his scent was familiar. his embrace comforting. but your stomach still twisted.

"it's ok y/n. i'm so sorry that happened to you." he paused to kiss you softly, "god i missed you," he murmured into your hair. "i can’t believe i'm actually here."

you didn’t respond right away. you just buried your face in his shoulder, trying to keep the storm of thoughts from showing on your face.

rafe’s hoodie. the way he looked at you when you walked out. his voice, firm, but hurt. that damn sadness in his eyes at him thinking you made up an excuse to leave. looking after you all night without you realising.

you weren’t supposed to care.

but you did.

a little too much.

"i missed you too," you lied again.

a/n: so sorry for my shit updates! i was in sweden and then got bit by a dog in the eye so life got kinda crazy but wanted to whip a chapter out for you

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @@jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman @drewsephrry @vanessa-rafesgirl @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @happy-mushrooms @hannaa20002000 @whoismxtti @darlingstarkey @mattssweetheart @wuluhwuhmaster @harringtonsbowgirl @my-name-is-baby @rrosiitas @davinashifts333 @cinnamqnnlatte @fastlovela @stelleduarte

#smau #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #boyfriend rafe #obxsmau #rafe cameron x reader #wicked game #frat boy!rafe #frat!rafe #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #college au #rafe

243 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 6 months ago

Text

Claimed hearts- John Price NSFW

kinktober day 15

Based on a request: Hi! For kinktober, may I please request no.2 (smut)? Queen F!Reader x King!Price - both from different kingdoms was arranged for marriage. Reader was a bit reluctant with the proposition but goes on with it, while it has been Price’s plan all along. A bit of enemy to lovers vibe along side of stalker-ish/obsessed behaviour from Price. Thank you ☺️ ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, power play, queen!reader, king!price, sexual!tension ----

The heavy doors close behind you, and silence drapes the room, thick with tense anticipation. There’s a pause—neither of you moves, though the air between you crackles with something charged, like the stillness before a storm.

Price stands there, impossibly composed, and yet there’s something fierce and raw lurking beneath that calm. His eyes, dark and keen, seem to map out every inch of you, as though assessing how to dismantle your resolve. In his gaze, you sense an intention—a fixation that makes you feel as though he’s not just watching you; he’s unravelling you, piece by piece.

“You can put on a brave face all you want,” he murmurs, taking a deliberate step toward you, “but we both know you’ve already surrendered.”

The words send a flush to your skin, though you narrow your eyes at him. “You think you know me?” you challenge, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays you. “You may have orchestrated this, but I’m no pawn, Price.”

His mouth curves into a slow, infuriating smirk, a look that leaves you teetering between fury and… something else. Something that leaves you breathless, that keeps you frozen as he crosses the remaining distance between you.

“Is that so?” he drawls, his voice dangerously soft. His fingers find a strand of your hair, brushing it aside with a gentleness that feels startlingly out of place. “Because I’d wager that deep down, you wanted this too—whether you’ll admit it or not.”

Your breath hitches as his hand trails, almost possessively, down your jawline. There’s a warmth to his touch that sends heat rushing through you, even as you try to resist it. But he’s close now, and the scent of him—a blend of leather, tobacco, and something unmistakably his—fogs your thoughts, blurring the line between defiance and a gnawing, undeniable pull.

“Tell me, then,” he murmurs, his voice coaxing yet edged with command. “Why did you agree to this marriage? Why did you choose to walk into my hands?”

The question is disarming, but his words are layered with an understanding that cuts through your defences. You open your mouth to respond, but he beats you to it, his voice a low, tantalizing whisper. “Because, my love, you knew this was inevitable. You knew you were mine long before you stepped through those doors.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and the truth of it, spoken so plainly, unsettles you. But there’s no room for denial as he cups your chin, lifting your face to his. The rough pad of his thumb brushes over your lower lip, and his gaze flickers with a restrained hunger that sends your pulse racing.

“You can fight it all you like,” he says softly, “but we both know where this leads.”

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in the faintest ghost of a kiss—a warning and a promise. You’re dizzy with the weight of it, with the way his presence seems to seep into you, claiming parts of you you’d long thought unyielding. His voice, dark and possessive, fills the space between you as he whispers, “I will have you, heart and soul.”

A shiver of anticipation threads through you, and you realize, perhaps too late, that you’re no longer the reluctant bride. Against all odds, he’s drawn you in, ensnared you with a touch, a look, a mere whisper of his intentions. And with his breath hot against your skin, you can almost feel the surrender waiting on your lips.

The silence stretches as he pulls back, his smirk unwavering as his eyes hold yours with an intensity that leaves you weak. And just before he steps away, his voice reaches you, low and unshakable. “You’re mine. Remember that.” Price's words linger in the air, a pronouncement that seems to echo in the stillness of the chamber. Your heart pounds in your ears, a staccato rhythm that matches the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins. For a moment, you're rendered speechless, your mind reeling from the sheer audacity of his declaration.

But you're no stranger to defiance, and as he steps back, you find your voice, though it emerges shakier than you'd like. "I'm no one's," you retort, lifting your chin in a show of stubborn pride. "And I won't be tamed by you or anyone else."

Price's smirk only deepens, a glint of amusement sparking in his eyes. "Still playing the rebel, I see," he remarks, his tone rich with mocking affection. "But we both know that's just a facade, don't we?"

He moves closer again, his presence overwhelming, his scent enveloping you like a heady cloud. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in, the proximity making your senses riot. "You can deny it all you want, but your body tells a different story," he murmurs, his gaze dropping pointedly to your lips.

Your breath catches, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the way your skin tingles wherever he looks, as though his eyes alone can ignite a fire within you. You want to argue, to push him away, but the words stick in your throat as he trails a finger along your jawline, his touch searing.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Price," you manage, though the warning lacks conviction. Your voice is barely above a whisper, betraying the effect he has on you. "One that you might not win."

His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine, and he leans in closer, his lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "Oh, I don't plan to lose," he breathes, his voice a husky murmur that stirs something deep within you. "And you, my dear, are the prize I intend to claim."

Price's words hang in the air, a challenge and a promise all at once. The space between you feels electric, charged with a tension that threatens to snap at any moment. Your heart races, your skin prickling with anticipation as he leans in, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"You think you can claim me so easily?" you breathe, though the defiance in your voice is wavering. His closeness is intoxicating, his presence overwhelming in a way that makes your head spin.

"Oh, I know it won't be easy," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours in a feather-light touch that sends sparks racing through you. "But nothing worth having ever is."

His hand slides up your arm, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You shiver, your breath catching as he cups your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. The gentleness of his touch belies the hunger in his eyes, a hunger that threatens to consume you whole.

"You can't deny the pull between us," he whispers, his voice low and rough with desire. "I see it in your eyes, feel it in how your body responds to mine."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you in a way that leaves you dizzy with want. You moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desperate for more.

His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and valley as he deepens the kiss. You're lost in a haze of sensation, your mind reeling from the intensity of his passion. He breaks away, leaving you panting and flushed, your lips swollen from his attentions.

"Tell me you want this," he demands, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. "Tell me you're mine, body and soul."

You hesitate momentarily, your pride warring with the desire that courses through your veins. But as he leans in once more, his lips hovering over yours, you know there's no escape.

"I'm yours," you breathe out. The air crackles with electricity as Price's lips claim yours again, his kiss hungry and demanding. His hands roam your body with urgency, mapping every curve and dip as if memorizing your form. You moan into his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You gasp, your head falling back as he marks you, claiming you as his own. His hands slip under your shirt, calloused fingers skimming over your heated flesh, igniting a fire wherever they touch.

"You're so responsive," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I can feel how much you want this."

His hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You arch into his touch, craving more of his attention. He obliges, sliding your bra straps down your shoulders and exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, before taking one nipple into his mouth. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he suckles and teases the sensitive bud. His hand massages your other breast, kneading the soft flesh until you're writhing beneath him.

He trails kisses down your stomach, his fingers making quick work of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to slide them down your legs, leaving you bare before him. His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your slick, glistening folds.

"So wet for me already," he rasps, his fingers parting your folds, teasing your entrance. "I knew you'd be tight, but this…this is unexpected."

He circles your clit with his thumb, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You buck against his hand, desperate for more, but he holds you in place, his grip firm on your hips.

"Patience," he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take my time with you, savour every inch of your delicious body."

Price's words send a shiver down your spine, your core clenching with anticipation. He positions himself between your thighs, the heat of his body enveloping you. You reach for him, your hands sliding over his broad shoulders, down his muscular arms.

"Please," you whisper, your voice thick with need. "I want you inside me."

He smiles, a wicked gleam in his eye as he reaches down, gripping his hard length. He teases your entrance with the head of his cock, the contact sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. You moan, your hips lifting in a silent plea for more.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into you, stretching you, filling you in a way you've never experienced before. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he hilts himself inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling forward, resting against yours. "You feel incredible." He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, your walls clenching around him, drawing him deeper. You meet his movements, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer.

The room fills with the sound of skin against skin, the scent of sex mingling with the heady aroma of his cologne. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he drives into you, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear. "Come for me," he growls, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers and the delicious stretch of his length inside you, send you careening over the edge. You come with a cry, your walls clamping down around him, milking his length. He follows you, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside you, his seed filling you, marking you as his. You cling to each other, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of your shared release.

Tags: @liyanahelena @ghostslillady @juneonhoth @Simonssweetgirl @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland @nobodys-coffee @sae1kie @anonymuslydumb @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @frazie99 @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @luvecarson @ikohniik @strawberrychita @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth

312 notes · View notes

spirituallturtle · 5 months ago

Text

15 Minutes

As per usual, please ignore any inaccuracies. I couldn’t find clear enough photos of the backs of the costumes so I took a gamble. Now looking at it don’t ask me what’s happening with Gball’s left knee. In my defence I start work at 3am and this was finished at like 10pm?

I’m also fairly confident I’m singing pumping iron, uncoupled and hydrogen in my sleep

#greaseball x dinah #starlight express #stex dinah #stex greaseball #dinah the dining car #greaseball the diesel #starlight express london 2024 #stex london 2024 #stex revival #wlw

280 notes · View notes

thestarlitmidnight · 5 months ago

Text

✨ Rewrite the Stars ✨

Summary: Being mated to Feyre doesn’t stop Rhysand to seek comfort from his former lover Y/N. One more night, that became their mantra. Fandom: ACOTAr Pairing: Rhysand X Y/N Warnings: Mention of explicit content, be aware of that and consider being 15+ before reading this. Word Count: 3 902 Previous Chapter Master List

Chapter 3

The autumn sun was low and hidden behind a heavy cloud. The air was getting colder.

Perfect weather for outside training. One does not need to sweat their ass out in leathers while the sun is frying you. When it's chilly outside, the fighting leathers are perfect, keeping you warm enough without the need to sweat and smell.

Right now, I was fighting with Az, testing our sword skills.

With Az, it was always so easy to train. He was focused on the training and did not talk a hole into your head. Not like Cass or others, who loved to add to the sound of colliding steel their comment and small talk.

Truth be told, with sword fight, it was impossible to beat Az, he was way too strong, quick and skilled. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat, or even daggers, he gets his ass kicked, but not with swords.

Another reason why I wanted to test my sword skills with him. I need to put my whole focus into the fight to have even a chance to keep up with him. This way my mind does not have any spare time to be bombarded with unwanted thoughts.

And there were a lot of them.

But Azriel decided to break the code today, out of all of the days, and he spoke up.

"Y/n, I am worried," his hazel eyes were glued on my face, but he did place an attack on my right side.

"About?" I gritted through my teeth and quickly blocked the attack with the sword, my wing needed to flex a little into the other side, to keep my balance.

"You," he effortlessly blocked my own attack on his thigh.

I simply rolled my eyes at him and did not reply. My sword started to place attack after attack, trying to break through his defences.

"I know what is happening," he simply said in a low tone, still watching me with these cryptic eyes.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I swirled on the other side of him and tried to place a hit on his left side, but he blocked it once again.

He and his shadows. They always cheat, I am sure of it.

"Y/n, don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you," his eyebrows crushed together with distaste.

I did not reply, waiting for him to elaborate on what he indeed knew about. It can be quite a lot of things, and I prayed he would come up with anything else than the truly concerning thing.

"Tell me, why do my shadows report to me that they spotted Rhysand visiting your house?" He went directly to the point, and I growled as my hands started to shake from the effort to block his now stronger attacks.

"He is my friend; he comes to chat," I lied skillfully, swirling away from him to create a little space between us so I could catch my breath.

"Liar," he said with an even voice, allowing me to get a little break. "Do you guys chat before or after he has you bend over the desk in his study?"

My eyes shot up to him, now full of warning. Those fucking shadows of his.

"You are poking your shadows into things that are not your concern," I replied with a stern voice, dismissing any possibility to dive into this topic deeper with him.

"He is mated, Y/n; this is not going to end well for anyone involved," his face was covered in concern, no distaste or judgment, no, Az would never judge me or Rhys; he was just worried.

And that made me furious. I crossed the space between us and started to dance with our sword clinging once again.

"Do you think, Az, that I am not aware of that?" I growled at him and went with way more force into the attacks than before. "I would love to see you act differently in my shoes."

Azriel, without as much a breaking sweat, knocked the sword from my hands and had me pinned down, his own sword on my neck.

"I would not act differently, but it is not fair to you," he informed me with his eyes glued on mine and his sword still on my neck. "I want you to know that if things get out of hand and you need someone to talk to, I am here for you; you are my little sister, Y/n, you are not alone."

My eyes started to water at his words, and when he helped me back up on my feet, I wrapped my hands around his neck and hugged him, thankful for him. At least one brother still considered me as his sister. Cass was way too invested in his mating bond to still have space for me in his life, but Az was always there for me. When shit hit the fan, he was by my side through the hardest times as much as he was through the best. Just like Rhys and Amren.

"Angel, tell me, why did you start to take your little experiment alongside you to train?" Rhys walked into the rooftop, in his arms my misplaced cat.

"Patchy! What are you doing here, baby?" I let go of Az, but not before I placed a thankful kiss on his cheek and went to snatch the creature out of Rhysand's hands.

"For the love of the Mother, what is this?" Azriel walked closer to us, his eyes taking in the ugly cat.

"Cat maybe? Or something that wandered into Velaris down from the mountains. I am still trying to figure that out," I scratched the head of Patchy. "How did you get here, Patchy? "

"You did not take it up here with you?" Rhys raised his eyebrows, eying the cat with curiosity.

"No, and before you come up with some wildly ridiculous theory, she probably just hide in my training bag," I gave Rhys a pointed look, stopping any wild theories about my cat being able to winnow or something equally stupid.

"It looks all weird," Az poked the bigger ear of the cat with his finger.

"I know, but it gives her a charisma," I laughed at the stunned expression of the shadowsinger; it takes a lot to surprise someone like him.

"It is a mentally unstable thing, which loves to interrupt when it should not," Rhys grumbled, eying the cat like his enemy.

That made me laugh. Patchy indeed had a terrible habit of interrupting us during sex. She would come and go after Rhys' feet, or straight out jump into the bed and slap him across his face. There was an occurrence where Rhys was fucking me over the counter in my kitchen just before the diner, and Patchy, with all the limping, managed to climb up to the shelves and push a glass bowl down on his head.

Safe to say, that Patchy developed a way to make Rhys mighty fate her.

I looked up at Rhys, then at Az, back to Rhys, raising my eyebrows up. This was a kind of comment that I did not expect to hear from Rhys in front of a member of our family.

"Az came to me first," Rhys sighed, brushing his hand over his jaw, where I just noticed a bruise that was fading quickly.

Illyrian males and their inability to talk things out without using their fists.

"Was it necessary to beat him, Az?" I raised my hand and tilted Rhys' head to the side, taking a better look at his jaw. "You know his pretty face is what I like about him the most."

"Y/n, angel, that is a lie," Rhys charmed a cheeky smile, and he greatly enjoyed my fingers brushing across his jaw.

Az just shook his head and laughed. "I forgot how annoying you two can be."

"Don't pretend that you did not miss it," I called after Az, who walked to the weapon rag, placing the sword back into its place and letting Rhys take me into his arms.

"I did not say that," Az looked over his shoulder, giving both of us a warm, pleased smile.

"Does anyone else know or suspect, or is it only you?" I asked Az, while tilting my head to the side because Rhys decided to sneak a few kisses on my neck.

"Amren knows," Rhys replied before Az could open his mouth, his lisp brushed over my neck as he spoke.

That did not surprise me. I knew that Amren at least suspected something.

"Others have no clue," Az added, resting against the wall, his hands came to rest over his chest.

"And it will remain this way till it is handled," Rhys placed a quick kiss on top of my wing and took Patchy from my hands, who shortly after disappeared into thin air. "She is waiting for you back at home; we have things to tend to."

"Rhys! She will be moody! That cat hates winnowing!" I scolded him and stepped on his feet, pissed that I would need to deal with a broody cat once I was back home.

"That cat is not that often present; if you will be lucky, she will be broody on one of her endless adventures and come back home only hungry," Rhys dismissed my scolding and winked, leading me to the kitchen with his hand around my waist, that had tendencies to fall way too low to be considered polite.

That was true. Patchy loved to explore. She spent more time out than indoors. No matter how misplaced and strangely shaped she was, that weird cat was exploring the world all the time.

"I need you and Az to look into something; there are whispers that someone is wielding unknown magic in the Autumn Court," Rhys let go of me and went to sit behind the high table.

"Perfect," I sighed and looked at Az with poorly hidden despair.

I hated the residents of Autumn Court. They were pompous, arrogant idiots with a god complex, always thinking they were better than others.

What was worse, they rarely lent a helping hand, which meant whoever was cursed to tend to a mission there was always on their own accord, with no outside help.

Az had trouble keeping his spy network there, and it is no secret that most of the expenses on the spies were pouring into the pockets of poorly willing people in the Autumn Court, who provided us back with half-truths, twisted information, and unreliable intel. But still, it's better than nothing.

The only person in the whole damn Autumn Court who cared enough to provide us with useful intel was Eris, who might be an ass, but he had his highlight moments sometimes.

In fact, I have seen Rhys in him sometimes. They both had similar qualities. Few differences were there, for example, that Eris did not have a good circle of his trusted friends and family. He was alone in a pretty tight system his father set, and he needed to orient through it all without any backup or outside help.

Feyre walked into the kitchen then, looking over the three of us with something unreadable in her eyes. She carried herself with tension in her shoulders and a way too straight spine. Then her eyes ended on Rhysand, and she went right to him, placing a kiss on his lips.

I fought a need to roll my eyes and chose to look at Az, who provided the two with privacy as well, looking back at me with those knowing eyes. I turned my back to them and crunched my nose at Az, making a face to shake the irritation out of my system.

"What are you three doing?" Feyre asked with a way too light voice.

I did turn only when Az made an effort to discreetly nod for me to turn around, and with a suppressed sigh, I did.

That viper was sitting way too close to Rhys for my liking. A mighty furry raised in my chest at the sight of his arm resting on his thigh.

What did not help me at all was the fact that his hand was wrapped around her shoulder, holding her close to himself. The same fucking way he held me a little ago.

I felt sick.

It took all of my self-control to not walk to that damn thief and not throw her off the cliff. It would do nothing. She can summon wings. I kept reminding myself of this fact. It would only piss everyone off and make this whole situation a lot worse and complicated.

"Az and Y/n will need to go into the Autumn Court. There are whispers about an unknown magic being wielded there, and we need to investigate," Rhys replied, his voice even.

I fought the urge to have my eyes glued to his hand resting around her shoulders. To stop myself from willing it not to move. To not caress her skin.

"Eris will be happy to see Y/n," Az said, his shadows moving around him in calm manners.

I raised my eyebrow at him, a smug smirk landing immediately on my lips. I knew where he was going with this and I loved every fucking second of that.

"He will, won't he? Last time we saw each other, he was promising me the title of the Lady of the Autumn Court," I mused back to him, purposely ignoring the burning stare from our High Lord.

A little fact about Eris. He loved fierce, independent females. Those, he knew he couldn't have. It was like a hunt for him. A challenge that he very gladly accepted and bathed in the thrill of it. He loved hunting, his favourite pastime, so it should not come as a surprise to anyone that he enjoyed hunting his females as well.

"I will bet ten golden marks that he will bring another priceless gift; my guesses are on another dagger," Az noted to me, looking all innocent as he did so.

I always knew that Az would have my back. He must have seen how off track the sight of Rhys and Feyre set me, so he found effortlessly a way to turn this into torture of Rhys instead of me.

"Make it twenty and that he will straight out propose to her at least once," Cassian walked into the kitchen as well.

He came back from Illyria, where he was training with his soldiers, and he looked like that. Sweaty and with messy hair, which stuck out of his bun.

"Not the proposal, please; it was enough the last time!" I rolled my eyes and smiled at Cassian.

"Did I miss something? Since when does Eris fancy Y/n?" Feyre looked between us, her face confused, while her damn fingers darted to Rhys' hair with her eyes ending on me while she brushed them.

"Let me guess..." Cassian made a thinking face. "Az, care to help me? You remember the dates better."

"Since the day she kicked his ass on one of the meetings, I would say at least a hundred years," Az replied right away, a light smile crossing his lips.

"You did what?" Feyre's eyes went wider.

I only raised my eyebrows at her, but did not reply; if I did, only cursed words would fall from my lips at her direction.

"He was ass, talking shit about Rhys, it was only natural she kicked his ass, Rhys would get into trouble for doing that, but nobody would dare to talk shit about Y/n for defending her-," Cass waved with his hand, walking to the sink to pour himself some water.

"Cass, did you forget that it was you, who did not hesitated to push me away and finish him yourself?" I smoothly interrupted him, he and his big mouth can sometimes get tricky to control.

"And you are surprised? Nobody will talk like this about my brother and little sister," he gave me a duh face, completely unaware that he was speaking about things that are not to be spoken of in front of the little viper.

"What did he said about them?" Feyre was now looking between me and Rhys with curiosity.

"Nothing that is your concern," Rhys replied to her, his voice firmer. "I was not aware that it was necessary to meet with Eris at the mission you will have."

Rhys looked tense. His jaw was tightly set and those violet eyes of his were holding frustration that was contained only be the sheer will of his.

"It is certainly necessary. Eris is the only one who has the best intel, if someone is wielding strange magic in his court, he will know it," I said with a light smirk on my lips. "And it will be nice to see him again. Do you think Az, that he practiced those dagger skills?"

"He? Yeah, for sure, he is probably eager to show them off to you," Az smiled fully in return, his eyes shining now with mischief.

"Will you reward him if he did?" Cassian chimed, wiggling his eyebrows. "I always knew you were made for greatness,Y/n, now that the air is clear for him, who knows, maybe you will indeed become Lady of the Autumn."

That made me chuckle.

It was a solid possibility to take and get out of here. My social standing will only benefit and I will get rid of the sight of Feyre clinging to Rhys at any opportunity she gets.

"We will see how things play out," I replied with light voice, my eyes finding the violet gaze.

He got the message. I am sure of it. And I am sure as hell that there will be a nasty fight over this.

"Y/n, Autumn, really? Come one, you yourself know how stupid of idea that would be," Rhys cannot hold this remark to himself and it stirred satisfaction in me, soothed the painful ache in my chest a little.

"Why would it be? If Y/n thinks it will make her happy, she has a free will to decide and do not need to ask for permission from you all," Feyre proclaimed eagerly, surprising me with this.

Is she by any means eager to get rid of me?

"Feyre darling, Y/n hates Autumn, it would be concerning if she would ever choose to permanently reside there, especially with someone like Eris, who doesn't have the slightest idea about how to handle someone like our angel," Rhys' voice was clipped, tightly controlled as he spoke, his eyes now glued permanently on me, ignoring his precious mate wholly.

A thing Feyre noticed and did not liked at all, judging by the shift of her body language. She moved her fingers from his hair down to his neck, stroking the sensitive skin there, hoping to get his attention back.

"Maybe, but did you forget that it is not only Eris, who decided to court our little sister?" Cassian send Rhys a cheeky grin, his chest puffing with pride.

It was kind of endearing. Cass truly thought that me and Rhys split up and it was done. That I accepted the fact he is mated and he probably believed that I will start moving on with my life as well. He was willing to see me go and settle anywhere as long as I will be happy.

"He is not?" Feyre's eyes once again widen and her voice was coloured by poorly controlled irritation mixed with hope.

"Y/n is a hot stuff you know. Last time I spoke with Helion, he was dreaming out loud about finally having opportunity to court her," Cassian's eyes practically shined with excitement. "In my opinion, Helion is better choice than Eris, but who is also in game is Tarquin, but considering how much you hate the sun, he will have little to none chance to get you reside in his shiny palace."

I cannot help and laugh a little.

It was ridiculous. Truly. Once the news that I am no longer with Rhys got out, they all loose it. Males can be sometimes truly precious.

"If they all are so interested in her, why they did not courted her already?" Feyre demanded, her face coloured with strange emotions, ones I cannot put together what they meant.

What? Was she pissed that she is not the one, who is seek out by them? Is she jealous that she is not the one, who stirs this kind of desire from those powerful males?

A little reality check for her I guess. It will serve her well.

"Very obviously because Rhysie would cut theirs dicks if they did?" Cass shoot back, without any hesitation, leaving us no opportunity to stop him from finishing this dman sentence.

"And why would he care?" She straightened her spine and she looked at Cassian with demanding look.

"Are you kidding me? Why would he care? Feyre, he -" Cassian opened that big mouth of his once again, but Rhys stopped him.

"We are getting away from the point of this conversation," Rhys snapped, his voice tight. "Azriel and Y/n are going to Autumn today, I will see you both before you go, we need to clear some things up."

When he said meet you both, his eyes were glued on me. It was clear message that he will have things to discuss with me.

Cauldron, I do not have any desire to argue with him before I will be leaving for a mission. It always brought bad amens with it.

"Well, I don't think any heads up are needed, we can get going right away, right Az?" I turned to look at the shadowsinger, my back turning once again to the pair sitting way too close together.

I cannot have a fight with him before the mission. There will be no time to make it alright again and I know that once I am away, he will be spending time with Feyre. It would keep eating me alive. The whole damn time when I am supposed to focus, he will be all I could think about and that means trouble.

Distraction during mission equal problems. Always.

I would see them together, just like in my nightmares, where he holds her so close to himself, the way he used to hold me. He would whisper sweet words into her ear, while tracing his hands across her body, making her giggle. He would promise her a future, that once was supposed to be ours. He would tell her about his dreams to have family of his own. How he dreamed for centuries about starting a family with his girl after the world will calm down a bit.

No. I cannot do this and so I gave Azriel a pleading look, hoping he will once again back me up.

"Of course, we will report once we know something," Az replied right away, walking towards me, gently taking my elbow into his arms. "Do not worry, I will make sure Eris does not misbehave way too much."

With that, he let his shadows swipe us away from the kitchen. It was a good thing that his little secret of being about to trespass the wards set upon the House of Winds, blew up a few months ago. It allowed him to simply take us away without leaving any space for more pointless chatting and arguing from Rhys.

Tag-List: @sillyfreakfanparty @zou-rs @sttvrdustt @daughterofthemoons-stuff @stonerpersona @j-pendragonx @barb00235 @booksbypisces @thelov3lybookworm @darkbloodsly

159 notes · View notes

vigilante24ish · 6 months ago

Text

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10. - Chapter 11. - Chapter 12

Chapter 13. - Chapter 14. - Chapter 15

Chapter 16. - Chapter 17. - Chapter 18

Word Count: 1786

Chapter 18:

After you healed the boy, you all helped put him down on some leaves and let him rest; waiting until he would wake up to check up on him once again.

There was no hurry to move to the next trial, and after the tiring trial, you all finished, rest, and a break sounded good.

While the witches settled down and started to gather ingredients for a fire, you chose to go find Agatha; who had not let the boy's side, showing everyone a far more sensitive side they did not have her for.

Except for you. You knew she had it in her, simply hiding beneath sarcasm and the fake persona of an evil person; a defence mechanism to protect her already wounded self from further harm.

Your steps made faint noise against the wet ground and dead leaves, drawing her attention from the sleeping teenager.

"Hey," you greeted softly, as if approaching a baby deer.

"Hey, sugar" she greeted, doing her best to hide her worry but you easily saw right through it.

"He will be fine, you know" you said as you sat next to her, shoulders touching against one another. "My magic is not that weak"

Agatha offered a weak smile. "I know it's not. It never was, " she commented and glanced at the sleeping boy. "Thank you again. I know you don't like taking such risks"

You gently nudged your shoulder with hers, earning her attention. "Well, someone once told me; there is no fun in life if I don't take any risks"

She could not help but crack an amused smile, remembering the many times she had told you those exact words.

She took a good look at you at the same time, remembering the young girl she had taken under her wings all those years ago.

Back then, you were more innocent and shy; often hesitating to show your magic or use it, afraid you would be judged or make a mistake.

It took a lot of effort from Agatha and patience to make you trust her enough and listen to her. Then, you truly had your fun with your shenanigans, your crazy plans, and ideas.

Of course, you also got into plenty of trouble, but Agatha never let you feel guilty about what happened.

You did not speak anything else for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the fact that you were next to each other. Agatha, even, leaned andrm rested her head against your shoulder; your presence always having this supernatural energy that calmed her down.

Sometimes it was what she needed, when her own mind was torturing her with thoughts and scenarios. Sometimes, it was what she craved when she needed to stop for a moment and breathe; think carefully of what she wished to do next.

And sometimes... it was what she feared. Being so quick to let go of her defences and open up to you, being so willing to lay in your arms and sleep; without worrying, you might harm her while she rests.

She feared feeling vulnerable and attaching to you, for you might as well turn and betray her one day or perish and leave her with another crack on her already wounded heart.

As if feeling the turmoil of emotions within her, you dared to spread your hand and hold hers; fingers interlocking into a secure grip. Your thumb gently caressed her skin, and you noticed the soft smile that formed on her face.

However, despite that sweet moment between the two of you; you had to speak up, and you had to take the step.

"Ags" you started gently, earning a faint humming response from her. "This boy... who is he? The sigil is not your design"

Agatha took a moment to answer, clearly debating everything in her head. "I... I don't know, honestly. I just feel like I know him"

You frowned faintly. "You think he might be Little Nicky?"

The nickname left a bitter after taste in your mouth, being so long since you had called her son that way.

It was a nickname you had come up with when you first met, and you had used it a few times for the time Agatha and him spent time with you. Then, out of the blue, Agatha had to leave and took the boy with her.

You had declined the offer to join, thinking it was not a good idea. Now, you regretted it.

You had no idea what happened to the boy, but you felt that had you been present, had you joined back then... that boy might still be alive.

Agatha pulled her head from you, an instinctive reaction to block any affection when she felt a wound reopening. However, she kept her hand locked into yours; offering the faintest of hope.

"I... I don't know, " She confessed, leaving a heavy sigh. "I mean... he could be, right?"

Considering she never told you what happened to him, you were not exactly the best person to answer that question. But you could see that Agatha needed closure; she needed reassurance.

So, you dared to play along. "Maybe" you lied.

It was then a faint groan let Teen's lips, earning your attention. Immediately, Agatha was on alert; letting go of your hand.

You stood up, choosing to let her have her time with the boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You did not walk astray, always remembering what would happen if you did. However, the Road gave you the feeling you had walked quite far; time being a mere illusion to you now.

You came to a halt, suddenly feeling on alert, but your gaze never stopped looking forward. Your hair at the back of your neck stood on end as a familiar presence and voice seemed to come directly from your own shadow; choosing to approach you from your most blind spot.

"Why the sour face, baby?" Rio asked, her hand slowly dragging itself across your back, making you shiver.

"I don't have a sour face," you argued, taking a few steps forward to remove her hand and put some distance between you and her.

Sometimes, it confused and infuriated you how both your magic and your body were reacting to Rio's presence.

You finally turned to face her, back in her normal earthy colours. "You did before. I guess the situation between Agatha and the Boy is not sitting well with you, " she said, her word sounding slightly more comforting and sincere, rather than the mockery you would expect.

Tired from everything, you could not help but sigh. "Come on, you can't tell me it doesn't sit odd with you," you said, and suddenly, something popped up in your mind.

You slowly walked towards her, steps condifent as there was this gleam in your eyes; one that akwsys intrigued and challenged Rio.

"I mean." You started, never breaking eye contact with her. "You made it so clear that you saw me as an obstacle between you and Agatha. Who says the boy isn't one as well?"

Perhaps it was wrong, to try and throw Teen under the bus that way. Perhaps you would regret it later on, considering what Rio was capable of. But you could not help it.

You had nothing against the boy, but perhaps you were tired of letting Agatha and everything slip through your fingers, always too afraid to tighten your grip and hold them there... hold them with you.

With the way the Road was going, you realized this might be the last chance for you to actually be brave and take the step... and that's what you were intending to do.

Rio watched you as you halted in front of her, neck craned up faintly as you stared deep into her dark eyes, no sign of fear; never fearing her, even when you first met.

"Because the boy is not hers," she replied.

Her gaze was not mocking, and neither was prideful at that moment, opposite of what you expected of her. Instead, you swore you saw regret in them; something you had rarely seen in Rio.

"How do you know?" You asked quickly, trying to save your futile attempt, but the moment the words left your mouth; you felt like an idiot. "Of course you do know," you sighed.

You felt her hand gently caressing your cheek, going as far as to gently push some of your hair away from your face and neck. The move was gentle, careful, and yet her cold skin made goosebumps appear on yours.

"You should be wary, baby girl," she started, taking half a step closer. "The way you are heading, you will get hurt again"

You focused on her, trying not to react or focus too much on her touch; which you swore was slowly growing bolder. "Only if I choose to stay behind but I don't have such plans. I am done being a coward," you confess, your voice threatening to crack by the last sentence.

"You are not a coward for doing what was expected of you," she cooed, words so sincere and caring you would not believe would come from the same witch that came through a freaking grave. "You are not meant to be here, Y/N."

You frowned at the certainty of her words. "What? Why?"

Rio didn't answer your question, holding back the answer you suddenly needed. "Join me, instead. Let me show you what you truly are meant to do."

Those words made you have a sense of dejavu, unlocking a memory locked at the very back of your mind.

The very first time you had heard her say those words, you stood between corpses of men; tired and blooded.

They were dead, and she had come to collect, having also enjoyed your magic outburst that ended your tormentors. Your magic was glowing and flowing wild, bright white eyes staring at her form.

She had told you those exact same words back then, trying to lure you intl trusting her; into giving in. You fought her at first and even later you never truly accepted.

Though you will admit, her lessons and influence had rubbed on you; helping you with your magic but also making you more careful of her 'true' nature.

"You and I are nothing alike" you managed to comment, feeling your self restrain getting more and more lost thanks to Rio's touch; that had moved towards your tie and threatened to take off some buttons from your white shirt.

"Aren't we?" Rio smirked, eyes landing on your parted lips as her hand stopped moving; fingers holding the side of your upper arm to ensure you would not move away.

Before something could take place, someone cleared their throat.

Chapter 19

#agatha all along #sweet Agatha #fluffy agatha #caring rio #jealous reader #agatha harkness #agatha spoilers #agatha fanfic #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #moon phases fanfic #marvel #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #rio x agatha #rio x reader

150 notes · View notes

foggieststars · 4 months ago

Note

if you're interested, can i request 15 for landoscar? just so curious to read your take on it and so delighted you're doing this!! 💕💕💕

15. sexual slavery

ok i got a bit carried away with this i will admit. in my defence i'm rereading an old fav fantasy series rn and well...... it all got a bit much.....

tw for like. non consent. dark themes. etc <33

The boy - Oscar, Jenson had told him, thrusting the chains into Lando's eager palm - doesn't look much like their usual captives. He's too pale, for a start. Most rebels that get brought in have tanned, weather-beaten skin, from a life spent tending the fields.

His hands are another tell. The skin on them is soft and callus-free, no scars to point to years spent on battlefields. Not a warrior, then. Interesting and disappointing in equal measure. Lando likes breaking soldiers most of all.

He doesn't speak to Lando, during the days that follow. Not entirely unexpected. The creatures the king keeps in his war camps are enough to turn even Lando's stomach, and their slaves spend most of their time carrying out their chores in a dazed, frightened silence. Still, they usually crack after a week at most, begging for their freedom, for Lando to put an end to their misery. He sells those ones off pretty sharpish, once they reach their breaking point.

Oscar's different. Lando gets the sense that he's not been scared into silence, so much as he is opting for silence. Lando can't have that. It betrays a wilfulness of spirit.

Lando's not an idiot. He knows he's only here as a favour from Lord Jenson to his father. He will remain on campaign for as long as Jenson's favour holds. The eagerness with which Jenson had welcomed Lando into his bed notwithstanding, Lando needs to prove his usefulness. He can't do that with errant slaves wandering around the camp, rage in their hearts and defiance in their eyes.

When Oscar drops a tray of crockery helping out in the kitchens one night, Lando seizes his chance. He has him strung up on the whipping post, five lashes for insubordination.

When he's cut down, Oscar's breathing is ragged and hitching, tears rolling silently down his face. When he looks Lando in the eyes, the rage in them is nearly unfathomable. Lando leaves him lying there in the grass, lets the other slaves bring him back to their quarters. They'll patch him up as best they can, with what little they have to offer. He'll be lucky if he doesn't die of infection. One less problem for Lando to deal with.

Later that night, undressing in Jenson's tent, Lando frowns at the flecks of dried blood on his boots. He'll have Oscar clean them, when he can walk again. Scrubbing his own blood off the supple leather might teach him a thing or two about pointless displays of resistance.

Oscar's even quieter after that, ducks his head low when Lando returns from scouting missions, goes about his chores in quiet, throbbing silence. Lando has him assigned to his own tent, so as to keep a closer eye on him. The lashing doesn't seem to have broken him, as Lando hoped it might. If anything, Oscar stands even straighter after it. Though maybe that's just to avoid tugging on the still-healing scar tissue.

Fortunately for Oscar, he's not the only slave Lando's assigned to look after. Following a particularly successful raid on a rebel camp in the north, the slave quarters are full to bursting. Like a fool, Lando lets it distract him. He breaks rebel after rebel on the whipping post, forgets to take note of Oscar's ghostly presence in his chambers.

Until, that is, one night. Jenson had been summoned to the king's tent after dinner, and shows no sign of returning soon. There's talk of rebels gathering under the banner of a boy king in the south, a pretender to his executed father's throne, in a kingdom which no longer exists. Lando won't be needed in Jenson's quarters tonight.

When he steps through the flaps of his tent, Lando catches Oscar in the act of rifling through the correspondence he keeps on his desk. Oscar straightens up coolly, pretending to be merely neatening the piles of letters on Lando’s desk. If Lando had been a mere moment later, he’d have thought nothing of it. But he’d clearly seen those slender hands clutched around a letter, affixed with the seal of the king’s hand.

So that's what he is. It explains the pale skin, the lack of calluses. Not a warrior. A spy.

“Find anything interesting in there?” Lando asks, his first words to Oscar.

Oscar looks at him askance, continuing to neaten up the piles.

Lando prowls closer, practically tasting fear in the air. “You’d have been better off examining the letters from Lord Sainz. The king’s hand has many eyes, but few that stretch as far south as Max Emelian’s territory. Supposed territory.”

Oscar speaks, voice cracking with disuse. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He’s got an odd accent, Lando thinks. From the very southern territories, perhaps?

“That is what you were doing, no?” Lando asks, tilting his head. He’s always been one for playing with his food. “Searching for information. About the pretender to the southern throne.”

Oscar’s a good spy. His face betrays no emotion, other than the slight flare of his nostrils when Lando says the word pretender.

“Yes, I think you would have found that much more interesting than whatever is in Lord Alonso’s letter. Though how you planned to smuggle it out, I don’t know. I do intend to find out.”

Oscar’s mouth thins, likely as a result of the implied threat to his anonymous allies. Lando wonders who he’s working with. Other slaves, most definitely. But all of them, like Oscar, spend their days wrapped in chains. Their quarters are guarded by the king’s beasts. Someone else then, with money and power. A nobleman.

Lando can see it now. The glory he’ll win, as the one to root out the rats in the camp.

To do that, he needs information. Information he won’t be able to glean if Oscar does what Lando would do in his place. Find the nearest nobleman to offend, have his head removed from his shoulders. Anything to protect his powerful ally.

“Or…” Lando offers, shrugging a careless shoulder. The very picture of a spoiled nobleman’s son. “There is another way.”

Oscar’s eyebrows quirk up, betraying his interest.

Lando breathes out, slow and steady. “Kneel,” he says, and Oscar does.

Slumping into the seat behind the desk, Lando undoes the ties of his breeches with a deft, practiced hand. He’s not had servants to dress him whilst on campaign, and with how in demand Jenson is, Lando’s had to learn to be pretty quick about getting naked.

Pulling his cock out, Lando watches Oscar take it in. Quick, desperate little breaths, the only sign of Oscar’s clearly rising panic.

“You know what to do with this, or do I need to show you?” Lando asks.

Oscar’s eyes shut tight, and then open. His face empties of emotion as he shuffles closer, wraps his hand around Lando’s cock. It’s an effort not to groan at the stimulation. “I know what to do,” Oscar murmurs. Lando takes him in with assessing eyes. Pink lips, deep brown eyes, that mop of unruly hair. It’s no surprise that someone’s bent him over long before this.

Oscar leans forward, prepared to take Lando’s cock into his mouth, when he’s stopped by the pricking of a knife at his throat. Lando smiles down at him lazily, turning the knife in a lazy motion. It makes the skin at the base of Oscar’s throat whiten.

“No teeth,” Lando commands. “Or I’ll slit you throat to anus, and your little friend on the inside, too.”

Oscar nods, breath warm and trembling as it hits the head of Lando’s cock. Lando pulls back just enough to let Oscar move without cutting himself open, but not so far as to let Oscar relax. It’s a struggle to maintain the position when Oscar swallows his cock to the base in one, smooth movement.

Oh, yes. Oscar’s definitely done this before.

Lando hitches his hips up, hits the tight ring at the base of Oscar’s throat, listens to him gag. Credit to him, Oscar takes a steadying breath through his nose, swallows around the intrusion in his throat. The wet heat is incredible. He wonders if Oscar would be so pliant on his hands and knees, too. If the warmth is in any way comparable.

Oscar hollows his cheeks and swallows, taking Lando deeper, until Lando can see the bulge of his cockhead in Oscar’s throat. It can’t be comfortable, especially not with his collar of iron. He’s talented with his tongue, pulling back to press delicate little kitten licks to the head, pumping with his hand what his tongue can’t reach.

“Harlot,” Lando hisses, at a particularly damning twist of Oscar’s wrist. Where had he learned to suck cock like this? Did the rebels pluck him from a brothel, decide his talents would be of more use elsewhere?

Oscar glances up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. He doesn’t look quite so self-possessed anymore. In fact, there’s nothing except pure desperation shining in his eyes. Whoever it is that Oscar’s trying to protect, he clearly cares for them very much. Enough to debase himself like this.

The chains between Oscar’s feet clank on the ground when he moves. It’s taking embarrassingly little time for him to bring Lando to the brink, that sinful tongue, the slick heat. It’s all too much, too fast. Unlike the other heirs, privileged enough to be chosen for the king’s campaign, Lando doesn’t get to slink off to brothels after the endless meetings are finished for the night. Jenson requires servicing, and he’s not much of one for reciprocal lovemaking. It’s the way of the world. Lando has no doubt that in twenty years, he’ll be doing much the same with his own ward, given to him for training and protection. He doubts he’ll stoop to what Oscar’s doing for him now.

There are tears leaking down Oscar’s face by now. Lando wonders how much of it has to do with the physical discomfort. The tears are what does it for him, pushing him over the edge. Lando comes with a broken cry, something to be embarrassed about in front of a suitor. Lando doesn’t bother to pretend in front of Oscar. He likes the way Oscar shudders as he swallows the load, the way his eyes screw tightly shut, brows furrowing on his forehead. The little trembles of Oscar’s hands as he cups his own elbows, drawing his arms tight against his body, like he’s trying to protect himself.

“That’ll do for now,” Lando says, tucking himself away with careful, measured movements.

Oscar, kneeling still, slumps slightly. Shoulders curling in on themselves, he wipes at his mouth with a desperate air. He doesn’t get it all on the first go around, pink tongue darting out to clean the rest of Lando’s come from his lips.

The fierceness radiating off him, the rage in his eyes - it’s gone. It takes all Lando has not to preen with victory.

He breaks them all eventually.

“Have your belongings moved to my tent,” Lando informs him, revelling in the way Oscar’s shoulders stiffen. “It should give me a chance to keep an eye on you.” Keep him so busy bouncing on Lando’s cock he won’t have time to slink away for a secret rendezvous with his man on the inside - until Lando wants him to, that is.

It’ll be easy. Plant just enough information in official-looking letters that Oscar gets desperate. Until he takes the first opportunity possible to meet with his informant, unaware that Lando will have arranged it all. Lando can catch them in the act, throw the traitor at the king’s feet, and be awarded a kingdom’s ransom for the privilege. And until then, he’ll keep Oscar by his side.

Perhaps after that, even.

#kink prompts #i got. SO carried away wtih this. im so sorry #this is barely a kink prompt. this is literally just like. my take on a medieval fantasy

118 notes · View notes

birdiewritessometimes · 7 months ago

Note

I’d love if you could do a Fred Weasley x Reader where he comforts the reader for Umbridge harm/quill. Thank you so so much!

A/N: Hi!! I really loved this! I hope i made your vision justice! Thank you so much for requesting <3

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Themes/warnings: Umbridge, pain, the quill-thing, hurt/comfort, fluff (because i love fluff)

Word count: 1500-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

It had been one of the worst days in your school year yet. You had overslept, missing breakfast and the first 15 minutes of charms. Then you had spilt food on your uniform shirt during lunch, making you rush up to your dorm to change, this made you late for your defence against the dark arts class. You felt the cold familiar feeling of dread rise in your stomach as you hurried along the corridors, already 5 minutes late for Umbridge’s class. You knew you were in for detention, you just hoped it would be normal detention and not detention in her office. You stopped outside the door to the classroom, taking a deep breath you quietly opened the door. You saw that the rest of the class was reading quietly, you groaned inwardly, there was no sneaking in. Then your eyes met the cold ones that belonged to the most hated teacher in this school.

“Miss l/n, care to explain why you’re late?” She asked in that sickeningly sweet voice she always used. You swallowed before walking in, letting the door close behind you.

“I’m so sorry professor, I had to change my shirt, I spilled food on it during lunch.” You mumbled, feeling the embarrassment hit, you noticed that the whole class was watching now. Umbridge cleared her voice in her normal fashion.

“Detention, for a week, now take your seat.” She said making your eyes widen. Sure, you had prepared yourself for detention today not for a week.

“A week? But professor, I’m only 5 minutes late?” You said in disbelief. You don’t know where it came from, you usually didn’t argue with teachers, choosing to keep your head down. A week felt unfair though.

“Miss l/n, sit down before I make it a month.” She said, her eyes glaring at you, but you stood planted at your place by the door.

“But prof-” You didn’t even finish when she interrupted you.

“Enough, miss l/n, my office after dinner.” She then said, that sickeningly sweet smile on her lips. You, however, felt like a bucket of ice water washed over you as you slowly made your way to your seat. Her office. You knew what happened to people who had detention in her office. Your eyes quickly met Harry’s, who gave you a sympathetic look, he out of everyone knew what awaited you. The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze and all you could think about was your detention with Umbridge. After dinner you slowly made your way to her office, that feeling of dread making yet another appearance. You knocked on the door and heard a faint ‘come in’ before you stepped in. Her office was covered in pink and pictures of cats and kittens.

“Good evening miss l/n, you will write some lines for me today.” She said, a wide smile on her face as she gestured for you to sit at a small table in the corner of the office. You went over to the table, bracing yourself for what was to come, you had heard stories of what Umbridge saw as ‘fit punishment’ and how it hurt, you had even seen Harry’s hand after he was sent to her office one time. You swallowed thickly as you sat down on the uncomfortable chair.

“What do you want me to write?” You asked, Umbridge made her way around her desk and walked up to you, placing a quill beside the paper that was laying on the table.

“I want you to write ‘I must not argue with authority’ for as many times as it takes for the message to” she paused, a satisfied smile on her face “sink in.” You nodded and grabbed the quill with great apprehension. You took a deep breath and began to write the line. It took a couple of lines before you could feel the pain form on the back of your left hand. You continued to write the lines, the pain white hot on the back of your hand. You felt the tears pool in your eyes as you wrote in silence, the only noise in the room consisted of Umbridge’s sighs of satisfaction. Around thirty minutes later you stepped out of her office, hand red and raw with tears streaking down your face. You dragged your feet through the deserted corridor, now letting your tears fall freely. Sniffling while clutching your hand you turned a corner and came face to face with the one person you didn’t want to see you like this, Fred Weasley.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like him; it was the exact opposite. You have been crushing on the Weasley boy for quite some time and you didn’t want him to see the mess of tears you were now. Before you could turn around and walk away, he grabbed your arm, his eyes wide with worry.

“Hey, y/n what happened?” He asked, worry evident in his voice. You felt your last resolve crumble when he looked at you with those eyes, his hand large and warm on your cold arm. You let out a hiccup when you showed him your hand, sobs falling freely from your lips now.

“Come here darling.” He said softly, pulling you into a hug, guiding you to sit at a bench in the corridor with him. He softly rubbed your back as you cried into his shoulder, his other hand gently stroking the knuckles on your injured hand.

“Ssshh, it’s going to be fine, it will fade and the hurt will go away.” He said softly before placing a kiss on your hair. He held you in that corridor for you don’t know how long, comforting you as you cried. The frustrations from the day slipping further and further away with Fred’s comforting gestures. Your sobs finally subdued, and you looked up at the boy. He gave you a soft smile.

“There she is.” He said, placing his hand on your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears, his hand lingered on your cheek. You sniffled as you looked up at the older boy, your eyes big in realisation that you cried on Fred Weasleys shoulder. He had in fact seen you as a crying mess.

“I’m sorry” You mumbled in embarrassment as you looked away from his eyes, quickly pulling your hair behind your ears, a habit you did when you were nervous.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, come on, let me clean your hand.” He said, soft smile on his face, as he took your good hand in his larger one as he led you through the castle and to his dorm. He sat you down on what you assumed was his bed as he gathered what he needed to clean your hand. He kneeled in front of you, gently taking your hand before dabbing it with a cotton pad. When you flinched he muttered a low ‘sorry’ before continuing. While you could feel the pain you were more aware of the way he was holding your hand, like it might break. He was trying to be as gentle as he could be as he slowly wrapped your hand to protect it while it heals. You were studying his face as he was wrapping your hand, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his lips in a frown. You were close, so close that you could count each individual eye lash on his eyes. When he finished wrapping your hand he looked up, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Better?” He asked in a low voice, his hands found their home on your thighs as he gave them a squeeze. You gave a slow nod, your eyes never leaving his.

“Thank you, Fred.” You whispered, the atmosphere around you were heavy, you could feel you heart thumping loudly in your ribcage as the two of you sat there looking into each other’s eyes.

“You’re welcome darling.” He mumbled, his eyes flicking to your lips and for a split second you thought your heart stopped. Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him? Your eyes traced his handsome face, stopping for a short moment at his pink lips before meeting his eyes again.

“Please tell me you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you.” He said with a strained voice making your breath hitch, you gave a small nod. His lips were on yours in no time. It was better than you ever thought it would be. His lips were soft and gentle as he kissed you like you were made of porcelain, his hand moved to the back of your neck while yours found his shirt, fisting the collar. When you pulled apart for air Fred had a huge grin on his face as his thumb stroked your cheekbone, his smile was contagious, making you smile as well.

“If all I needed to do to make you smile was to kiss you, I would’ve done it sooner.” He said before kissing you again. You could almost thank the vile which who liked to torture children for the outcome of this very rotten day.

#fred weasley x reader #fan fiction #harry potter #x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n

205 notes · View notes

666anxiety666 · 7 months ago

Note

May I ask for a Pressure tickle fic? Where the player / y/n is a 16 year old (In my country if your 15 ur legally go to jail, and the 16 yr old committed a crime in self defence) and Sebastian noticing the anxiety, pressure (pun inteended) and paranoia he decides to cheer the kiddo up to make em feel like a child again and just melt away their worries? So basically Lee 16 yr old Y/n and a Big Ler snake that gives off HUGE older brother vibes

That's such a cute prompt, omg 😭

Tickle monster

Sebastian and TEEN reader

LEE: Y/N LER: Sebastian

Warnings: none :)

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

Ever since you had been sent down here, Sebastian hasn't let you leave his shop without him. You don't blame him. You wouldn't go out on your own anyway. A sixteen year old should never have been in a place like this to begin with.

Sure, it got boring, and yeah, maybe at first Sebastian claimed he was only protecting you cause, "he had to." But over time, you and him have become quite close, like a sibling kind of way...

However, as of recently, your anxiety and paranoia has gotten worse. Ever small nosie made you jump. You always hid behind Sebastian when a new expendable came down. You were never away from Sebastian, always clinging to him.

Currently, you and Sebastian were getting ready for bed. You always slept with Sebastians tail curled around you. But on this "night," you couldn't sleep.

Your eyes darted all over the place, your heart rate picking up as you head what must have been one of the anglers, banging on a wall in the distance. Sebastian opened one of his three eyes and glanced at you.

"Don't worry, kid. They do that all the time... just try to drown it out, yeah?"

But you couldn't. every noise made you jump. You were scared. You shouldn't even be here to begin with. You wanted to go home... Sebastian noticed your fear and worry.

"Come on, kid. You've got nothing to worry about..."

But Sebastian's words did little to ease your fear. Sebastian sighed. He turned around to face you fully. His tail is still wrapped around you.

"What can I do to help you calm down?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. You shrugged shyly. Sebastian sighed again. He rested his cheek in the palm of his hand as he thought of what to do.

"Come on, kid. There's gotta be something..."

Sebastian poked your side as he said this. You jumped at the poke. Letting out a small squeak. Sebastian paused, raising an eyebrow. Then, it hit him. A massive grin spreading on his face

Yours blood ran cold, and you instantly tried to get up to run. But Sebastian's tail kept you down. You struggled. But it was too late.

"Oh no, kid. You ain't escaping... the tickle monster!"

Sebastian cackled. Latching onto your sides, raking his claws up and down. You squealed, kicking your legs desperately.

You grabbed at his wrists and tried to shove him off. But it was no use. Sebastian moved his third hand to your tummy. You squealed louder.

"Look at you, squealing like a little school girl~"

Sebastian teased. You tried to pull your way out of Sebastian's grasp, but it was useless.

"Aw, how cute! You think you can stop me? You think the tickle monster shows mercy to kids like you?"

Sebastian exaggerated. Moving his hands up to your ribs. Your laughter got louder. kicking your legs harder against the floor.

"Say... im quite hungry... how many ribs do kids like you have, hm?"

Your heart dropped. You tried to push him away, but it was no use. You begged, but your pleas fell of deaf ears.

"One..~ two..~ three..~"

Sebastian started to "count." Wiggling his fingers at each rib as he did. It tickled so badly. You kicked and squirmed harder.

"Come on, kid! You made me lose count! Now I have to start all over!"

Sebastian exclamied before starting his "counting" from the beginning. This went on for what felt like forever. Your squeals and belly laughter filling the shop as Sebastian would restart at every struggle you made.

"Ugh, you know.. if I can't have get at your tasty ribs... maybe I'll have to try something else...!"

Sebastian then pretended to start "eating" your stomach. Blowing raspberries and making munching sounds.

Your face flushed. This was so childish. But you couldn't escape. You were stuck. You kicked and squealed. Shoving at Sebastian's head.

Soon, after what felt like an eternity. Sebastian backed off.

"Man... I think I've had my fill..."

Sebastian grinned as he backed off. Leaving you panting and giggling. You hugged your stomach slightly. You're face bright red for laughing. Sebastian chuckled, ruffling your hair gently.

"You good kid?"

Sebastian asked. You nodded. Pushing your hair out of your face. Sebastian chuckled once more.

"See? Told you everything was fine. You just need a good tickle every now and then."

Sebastian joked as he poked your side one last time. You yelped and giggled. Sebastian smirked and lay back down.

"Okay, okay, I'm done.."

Sebastian mumbled. You also lay back down. Resting against Sebastians tail. Sebastian pulled a blanket over you before wrapping his third arm over your shoulder.

You felt your eyes droop. You were tired. Not only from today's work, but all that tickling you went through. Sebastian smiled slightly.

"I've got you, kid..."

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

Thank yall for the requests‼️ I have two more fics coming🙌

#tickle fic #pressure tickle #pressure tickles #sebastian solace #lee!reader #ler!sebastian

158 notes · View notes