#olliscot

[wxrwounds]

Government wedding.

Jenna sat in the hotel room, her head in her hands as she thought of all the people sitting downstairs, waiting for her to make an entrance and marry a man that the Government had decided on for her. Having been far too invested in her career, she’d barely noticed that the years had ticked on and she was now older than the allowed age to be single.

Turning her head over, she spotted her father standing in the doorway with a small smile, looking over his little girl in a white dress and looking incredibly stressed on her wedding day. With a small smile, Jen shook her head and got up, smoothing down her dress before she spoke, “Better get going, don’t want my new husband to think I got cold feet.” She joked, reaching for her fathers hand before they made their way down, running a little late, and the music started.

@olliscot

[lunar-torment]

|| Rock The Bed || Closed Starter

@olliscot

Bradley had moved town, again. Not for any fault of his own, not really, but staying too long caused people to grow close, to ask questions, and he just couldn't have that. Not anymore. He'd moved to the city, where there were too many people to grow close to, everyone kept themselves to themselves, and Bradley was settling in just easy. Except for his neighbour. He didn't know who owned the place or if it were a couple or just someone whose lust was through the roof but all he knew was that unfortunately their room was sat right up against Bradley's wall. He ignored it the first few times, because he knew what it was like to have a craving like that & through the roof but now it was getting tedious. He lay there, glaring in the darkness the more times he heard the headboard hit the wall. It were went his alarm clock fell on the floor that he finally caved. Slipping on a shirt & boxers, storming to his neighbour's door, & smashing his fist against it while yelling "Can you two please quit it for one night?!" Waiting for the asshole on the other side to show his face.

[redvdova-archive]

Disclosed

“I don’t hate you,” she said. “I think you tried playing your hand in embarrassing me in front of the entire class and thought it might be fun to get a rise out of me. Didn’t enjoy that but...you have your moments.”

She directed off the busy street to the neighborhoods lined with various apartment buildings. She’d found herself a good deal for the city, and considering the money her job brought it, she was well off for the time being and had the luxury of living alone -- made it much easier for her to get her work done, but lately her thoughts had been filled of the man walking her home. 

“I’d invite you inside, but with finals approaching,” she started, pausing in front of the building and pulling the keys out of her purse. “I promise I’m not blowing off your offer for coffee. It might just have to wait until the semester is over.”

@olliscot \\ X X

[voiceofmany-a]

@olliscot

“Whiskey sour.”

Cassian drums his fingers lightly on the counter, feigning jumpiness as he waits for the bartender to make his second drink of an evening. He’s been in the casino long enough already that it’s completely out of his system - just long enough to fill one of his pockets with a lucky streak of cash. It’s good. Makes him look good. Makes his appearance as a recent striver who usurped the leader of his gang believable.

Makes him someone worth being watched.

He feels it already, the eyes on his back. This casino’s on neutral ground, with men stationed at every corner and every door to simmer down tensions between rivals before they can explode into open conflict. It makes it an ideal location for negotiations, bribes, illicit deals happening under the table - and observing.

As Cassian gets his drink, he tips well, then glances over his shoulder at one Oliver Webster. His reputation precedes him, at least, unlike Cassian’s. And whether he’s keeping an eye on Cassian to pull a gun on him in an alley or see if he’s worth his salt is difficult to tell. So Cassian sips his drink, saunters across the room, then waves a hand absently when a few members of his own group - those unaware of Cassian’s true nature - move to follow him. They settle back down again, leaving him to make the journey alone.

“Are you looking to make a deal or fuck me?” Cassian drawls the moment he’s within Webster’s hearing distance, quirking a brow. Maybe not the ideal first words to exchange with a man as powerful as him, but, hell, if he can get the man to laugh rather than pull a gun on him, the rest of Cassian’s time in the city might go far smoother.

[oldmcncy]

@olliscot​ liked this for a halloween starter 🎃

“I am serious, Oliver! This guy isn’t normal.“ She was used to having the entire world talk about her, but the way this man spoke about her was different. People would send her messages telling her how much they loved her, while he sent her his wedding plans. So far their interaction had only happened online, but that still scared her. She pulled her phone out ready to show him the last message, but a loud noise outside her window caught her attention. “Did you hear that?” Leaving him alone, she walked away and looked through the window. What she saw made her go white. “Call the police.”

[crookedkingdcms]

            This certainly had not gone according to plan. It had been -- Spencer had been doing great, thieving and spreading the word of rebellion like a fucking pro. Until he had (clearly) strolled into the wrong damn brothel looking for company for the evening. Strangely enough, the dungeon he’d been sleeping in was far nicer than the places he had been sleeping the last few months. Their prisoners were treated more lavishly than their subjects. Yet, that wasn’t the most frustrating part for Spencer. No, the most infuriating thing was how fucking gorgeous this bloody king was that he was the prisoner of. He maintained his resolve well enough: refused to bow or kneel, refused to call him king or your grace or your majesty or whatever the bloody formality was, refused to even really look at Oliver for much longer than a few seconds. Though, that was likely still too long to let his eyes linger in all the worst (read: best) places. It was clearly evening when he was summoned. Spencer was thoroughly surprised to find the rest of the throne room empty (save for the king) when he was brought in, hands shackled behind his back as if that was going to stop him. The two of them alone, save for guards outside the door, Spencer let his boredom be made clear as Oliver started on his crimes and potential punishments until he’d finally had enough. “You could kill me, or you could let me ride your cock. Just fucking pick one and get it over with, this is getting even more boring than it was already,” he snapped, eyes locked onto Oliver’s. The last bit likely wasn’t smart to say either way, but he wasn’t taking it back now. || @olliscot

[rosesdieinaweek]

As much as Georgie didn’t want to she knew that they had to have this talk. Sooner, rather than later. She’d woken up in his bed the morning after his birthday, happy to see that she still had her underwear on as the memories of the night before came back. They didn’t sleep together, that was good. She’d slipped on his shirt as she padded out into the kitchen of the apartment that she had grown to know so well, it was hard to think things had changed. But the truth was out there now and they had. The coffee now in her cup was warm as she held it close, taking a breath when she heard footsteps behind her and Georgie turned around with a half smile, “How’s your head?”

@olliscot

[hefzyisback]

paper love

4:00 am. The keys didn’t make a noise, nor did the door closed behind her. She had been with him, the grey dress he gave her and she never used before framing her body for another man. A subtle remain of his cologne still present on the skin of her neck and a nibble on her lips she wouldn’t bother to conceal with make up. Just like every day, she intended to slide on their bed, wrap her arms around her man, the one that always waited for her. She would shower him with kisses and errase with his lips the marks that other man had left upon her. 

But not today. What a revelation. The one she thought loyal was not waiting for her. The redhead didn’t make any move when she saw him on that bed with another woman. Perhaps he was expecting her later on. Perhaps she was too quick this time. Who knew. How ironic. Hefzy had been shamelessly cheating on him for months now, and still, the mere sight of him covered in sweat, the sound of her sweet moans, the way their bodies entangled with one another. It broke her heart.

The woman didn’t dare to interrupt them. He was so...beautiful. And he wasn’t hers anymore, just in the same way she didn’t belong to him. It was like if someone decided to pour a glass of wine over their paper love. Fragile on itself, and now about to be ripped appart by the touch of a finger. 

A single tear won the battle against her pride, and she turned around to leave the room, finally breaking the silence with the subtle, yet loud click of the door closing behind her. She didn’t bother leaving the house though. There was no point in that. She just waited for her husband to finish, sitting on the couch, the very same couch where  she had given her innocence to him many years ago. 

Divorce paperwork laying on the coffee table. She had been keeping it for herself for weeks. Months. For some reason Hefzy didn’t want it to happen. Not like this. Not because of this, but if he didn’t love her anymore,there was nothing left to save.

@olliscot