#farleigh start sad

[firemenenthusiast]

—“till death do us apart”

farleigh start x fem! reader

summary: sometimes even fate can be altered

warnings: angst. read at your own risk. plot twist. grammar of a non native english speaker

a/n: am i in my angst era ? also this is for mon cheri @farleighlover 😋 revenge for writing ‘numbingly obsessed’. this fic idea was like a bazooka shooting into my face i had to write it down

“What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine. Nothing could keep us apart. You'd be the one I was meant to find”

the way the sun was shining brightly outside his window, soft amber glare richoceting off the balcony of his apartment told him that the even the universe was looking down upon them, blessing the entire day.-

it was cloudy, the sky hanging puffs of fluffy white, but not the type of cloudy that makes everyone moody, no. it was just nice, he thought, as he adjusted the gleaming links on his cuffs, black ribboned tux sitting perfectly on his broad shoulders. cocking his head slightly to the side, his tight dark brown curls bouncing out of his face making him shudder in anticipation. or was it nerves ? he couldnt really tell, too many staggering emotions filling into his head, fighting each other for a place behind those eyes. taking a last deep breath, he adjusted himself in the mirror before turning towards the door, pair of leather shoes carrying him away.

it’s been five years since your class graduated from oxford, or should you call it your alma mater now. it was probably the greatest day ever, being finally done with excruciatingly painful days of all nighters, pushing through everything else just to chase after submission dates. as much as you’re glad that it’s all over, the collection of memories with people there wrapping you like a fuzzy blanket. the only thing making oxford the best phase of your life is the people there. your friends, your dormmates, your classmates, felix, oliver, farleigh.

and farleigh.

everything was better because you got farleigh. he was always there for you, supporting you, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world that out of all the girls in oxford that he could easily get with, he chose you. and you chose him. i mean, it wouldn’t really be anything between the two of you if you didn’t give him a chance. as much as you liked him before the start of your relationship, you weren’t gonna let him in that easily. just thinking about how much you made him suffer to win you over made you let out a soft chuckle. you’d throw the bouquet of fresh flowers he’d left on your designated seat in class immediately after seeing them and god, was that humiliating for him. one thing farleigh absolutely couldn’t stand was being humiliated, or rejected. but he pushed through, he refused to give up because he liked you so much. he’s willing to fight through everything if it meant that you’d just give him a chance. he suprised himself with how much he was doing just to make you accept him, cuz he swore he would never be down so bad just for a girl. but for you, all that pride and need to maintain his reputation just got thrown out the window.

you and farleigh, it was like the two of you were made for each other, maybe it was your fault for not seeing that sooner but your relationship with him was everything to you after you gave in and give him a chance. it was like red blood, pumping oxygen to every part of your existence, he was like air to you. farleigh made you happy, made you feel all giddy whenever he’d wait outside of your class for you to finish so the two of you could grab lunch together, he was your yellow, your rock. at times you could feel your heart grow even fonder of him, slowly falling head over heels. his bright pearly smile fuelled your entire being, you catch yourself secretly grinning whenever you’d think of him. he was very charming, though sometimes so annoying and bratty. you didn’t care, if anything he was your annoying brat. whenever the two of you would spend the whole day wrapped in each other’s arms, you’d let out the biggest sigh of contentment after getting back to your dorm. farleigh protected you, shielding you from anything that was gonna hurt you, from physical dangers to the emotional ones when you’d struggle with your mental health. he knew everything about you, he knew the tricks and tweaks of winning over your heart. he was your guardian angel.

you’d also noticed how beautiful of a day it was outside, and you were thanking the universe for granting the both of you a chance for this day to be as beautiful as it could be. it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of, and it was exactly like how you’d imagine and daydreamed about it to be since you were a little girl. from the gorgeous white gown draped down your figure to the personally hand arranged bouquet of flower that you were gonna carry down the aisle. it was perfect, and so is the fact that you were gonna marry the love of your life. you couldn’t be more excited, scared and nervous. everyone had told you that it’s normal to be nervous, it’s probably the biggest moment in your life and you couldn’t risk it being even slightly ruined. everything had to be perfect, and they actually were. getting ready in the dressing room, you paced around to get your mind off things that you were overthinking about. what if you stumbled and ripped your gown ? what if you puked in the middle of the walk because you were too nervous ? in that moment you just wanted to tell your bridesmaid to go get your fiancé. you knew he could calm you down easily, he always did. little did you know that he was also taking deep breaths to cool himself down in another room.

the sleek black tux hugging farleigh nicely around his torso and his bust. the sleeves, perfectly tailored and not a single inch longer than it should be. he looked dashing, handsome even. but when is it that he doesn’t? stepping onto the venue, his chin tilted upwards, feasting his eyes upon the beautifully decorated hall. a small smile crept itself across his lips. it was just like how you always told him how you would like the place to look like when you get married. farleigh had always kept a mental note on the details, from the choice of flowers standing tall along the aisle, to the soft hue of innocent yellow dimly lighting up the whole place. you always had a vision when it comes to your wedding day, and he would listen to you talk about it, nodding away and even adding his own points on how he wanted his wedding to be. he had immaculate taste too, of course. chirping in to give you suggestions after suggestions just to make sure the vision of his and your wedding day was perfect. he didn’t really care, the only vivid thing he could imagine was the image of you standing in front of him, looking as pretty as always, smiling up at him as he vowed to take you as his lawfully wedded wife. it was innocent how the two of you would dream about this day.

guests were starting to fill up the venue, settling themselves down on their designated seats as few of them were seen chatting up with each other, smiles decorating their faces. both your families were moving around efficiently, making sure that everything was in order for the ceremony to move smoothly, while you waited in the dressing room, carefully adjusting and making sure that your make up and hair were put together flawlessly. “you nervous?” you heard venetia speak, as you turn your head towards her, smiling. your eyes trailed along the beautifully sewn hem of your gown. “of course i am, i would be lying if i said im not” letting out a soft sigh, your eyes glanced towards her. “how’s farleigh ?” you asked her, before she took both your hands in hers, firmly grabbing onto the palms as she cocked her head to the side, beaming at you. “he’ll be alright” she responded, shortly. “you ready ?” to which you nodded, offering her a quick smile.

the walk from the dressing room to the hall felt like forever, as steps after steps burned memories into your head, everything felt so surreal yet too real at the same time. as you carefully line your walk in the heels with the tail of your gown making it a sport, you began to notice familiar faces sitting at the back row, already beaming at you with their hands cupped against their chests. you offered them a warm smile, desperately using it to hide the all new emotions you were currently feeling. you were now already standing at the end of the aisle, in the middle of everyone, as all eyes were set on you. you tried your best to flash the prettiest smile, like you had practiced for only like since forever. farleigh’s eyes immediately set themselves on you, his eyebrows dropped as his dark orbs began to gloss, a small breath got caught in his throat as it seemed like he had forgotten how to breathe. he was getting lightheaded with how similar you looked with the vision he had of you being his bride. just when he thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful, you began to walk down with the white veil over your head, fresh flowers neatly grasped in your hands. you looked pure, breathtakingly beautiful in white. it was almost like the angels had lent you their beauty for that exact moment, for you to wear as you slowly step towards the altar.

your eyes met farleigh’s, a knowing look being exchanged between the two of you. you almost laughed at how touched he looked, he would be caught dead first before this to even show that he had deep emotions for someone but for you, he didn’t care. anything for you. all the nervousness suddenly disappeared as you carefully step onto the elevated platform at the end of your slow walk, joining your fiancé before facing each other, huge smile plastered across your faces. all of that ruckus and chaos before your wedding day has led to this moment, as you take it all in that it was finally happening.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love of these two as they come together in marriage.” the officiant started right as the two of you were ready. after exchanging rings, he started his vows first, which almost made you cry but happiness flooded through the feeling.

“…I promise to cherish you always, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall part us.” as you finish your vow, you could feel your feet starting to perform little jumps of excitement. turning your head towards the officiant, he could see that you were already getting impatient. smiling to himself, he looked over to the crowd before saying the magic words

“By the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife !” you almost squeak before leaning over to kiss your now husband, gently pressing your lips over his soft ones, your cold fingers cupping his cheeks as a roar of applause filled the hall. the crowd stood up to cheer, bright smiles complimenting the decorations in the hall.

it was exactly like you imagined, except this time it wasn’t farleigh that you were kissing.

as farleigh clapped for the both of you from his seat, he couldn’t help the proud smile pushing itself to form on his lips, as his eyes begin to water. he immediately reached up to wipe them off quickly, yet obvious tint of red could still be seen if one were to examine his face closely. but he wasn’t worried of that happening, because he wasn’t the main subject of today’s ceremony, no. he was just happy to be here, cheering for you and your husband. he would be lying if he didn’t think about how it would be if it was him instead on the altar, kissing you away from all the doubts that he had put you through over the last few years of your relationship. he knew that you and him, the two of you were supposed to be endgame. it was supposed to be him, slipping the ring onto your finger, before kissing over them. he knew all that, yet nothing could win over a fight with his own issues, nothing could beat his own mind in a game called love. he wanted to give up on love long ago but you showed him the bright end of the tunnel, and he will always be grateful for that. for now, he would have to make peace with the fact that you’re no longer his, and he no longer has a place in your heart. it’s not like he doesn’t want all of this, he really does. hell, he had thought about this exact day countless times when you were his, just that he imagined it to be him who will get to say his vows on how he was gonna love you till death do the both of you apart. everything else was pretty much just how he had imagined it to be, especially how beautiful you looked.

the two of you had promised that the relationship had to end with marriage, and that after graduation nothing was gonna change. but promises are meant to broken aren’t they ? he changed, a lot. you did too. farleigh struggled with himself after graduation, with the fact that he didn’t have anything left in the uk, him being done with oxford left him no reason to keep staying with the cattons. he didn’t want to leave, he begged for sir james to keep letting him stay, saying that he would do anything with the best he had, building a career over the estates in saltburn, anything. anything just for him to able to stay here, with you. he was afraid that if he left, everything will be different and he’d lose you. so he worked, really hard. struggling to make his own money to put them into his own little apartment. little did he know, he lost himself in the process, along with what he had with you. warm embraces and chuckles after laughters turned into hurtful arguments. your usual warm spot on his bed turned cold, as your dent on his mattress slowly disappeared. it’s not like you didn’t fight for him, you truly did. but you realised that what the two of you had, was only nice while it lasted. and you struggled to make peace with that, but not as much as he was. you were everything to him, and losing you just meant losing himself.

when you told him that you were getting married, he looked really happy, as he pulled you in a tight hug. it felt safe, and you could feel that he was genuinely happy for you. you’re glad that after all, you were still able to be close with him, only now as friends. he was happy to receive the wedding invitation, having set it up on his empty kitchen table so he wouldn’t miss it for the world. he still loved you, so much as he wouldn’t want to miss watching you on your happiest day, even if it wasn’t because of him. even if it wasn’t with him. seeing you happy was enough for him. knowing that you were happy, he forced himself to accept that fate couldn’t be rewritten. how he wished it is, because then he would get to write your name in his stars again and again, and again. as many times as he could as long as in the end, you’d end up in his arms.

as the getaway car began to roll its wheels, he looked at you flashing the prettiest smile ever, waving at him. he returned the smile, masking in the reasoned melancholy down his chest. the car started to drive away slowly before his smile slowly pressed itself away against his lips. it has now turned to a smile knowing that he once had you, and he would forever cherish that. the crowd began to dissipate, some gradually walking away to leave, some getting back inside to continue their chats, some even talking about how gorgeous of a wedding it was, and that they were happy for you and your husband. farleigh stepped down the stairs to a gravely ground, his leather shoes digging into the coarse pebbles as he leaned back onto the stone post at the end of the stairs, his hand reaching into the pocket of his slacks. noticing someone approaching his spot, he glanced to the person to see felix, his hands tucked into his pockets before he reached out, asking for a stick from farleigh. he lit the cigarette in his fingers before reaching over, cupping his hand over the flame to lit felix’s.

puffing his first drag, farleigh chuckled at felix at the situation. “how you holding up ?” he heard felix ask, his light brown hair flipping over as the soft wind grazed their skin. farleigh tilted his head down, quietly playing with the pebbles with the tip of his shoes with a burning cigarette dancing between his fingers. “i’m gonna be okay” nodding, he assured felix. “that’s good” he chirped back, he knew how bad farleigh was hurting, but he also knew that his cousin would be caught dead first before showing deep emotions to anyone. felix were also sure that the two of you were really gonna end up together. it was only right to him. he wasn’t sure about what happened, but he could feel how bad the pain was violently ripping farleigh apart. he could only pray that it gets easier, as he didn’t want to lose him too.

“i know you loved her mate” felix started

“i still do” farleigh responded, his head hanging low

“-just differently now”

shaking the burned bits of the cigarette from his fingers, ashes falling down onto the ground as they both sat in silence, quietly enjoying the gentle breeze of the wind, blowing away all of farleigh’s hope for you.

taglist: @farleighlover @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda

[waiting4kraven]

[the-toulouser]

i feel like having a heart attack every time i rewatch the saltburn ending. i get why people don’t like it but fuck. the last twenty minutes is like heroin to me, i’ve never felt this way about any piece of media before. it just feels so gut wrenching and i genuinely feel like *I’VE* lost something i’ll never get back. HOW?? WHAT IS THIS WITCHCRAFT???

[fuzziiwuzzii]

oh Farleigh how beautiful you are to me even when ugly sobbing over your bloody pie ❤️ Watching Saltburn for the 5th time tonight

[spacecasehobbit]

Oliver's last conversations with each of Farleigh, Felix, and Venetia are so consistently fascinating to me. Each of Farleigh and Venetia think that they are calling Oliver out, forcing him to face the harsh truths of his own insignificance, while Oliver stands passively by and lets them reveal their own hypocrisy before revealing the true fragility of their positions, the power that he has over their lives.

Farleigh towers over Oliver, belittling him against the backdrop of this party that is supposedly for Oliver and is full of people whose regard for Oliver spans from indifference to outright hostility. Yet while he thinks that he's giving Oliver his victory speech, gloating over the fact that it is Farleigh, not Oliver, who will stay at Saltburn after this summer, he's also admitting to the tenuous nature of his own position there. "I was invited," he tells Oliver, when Oliver questions his presence at the party, along with, "I'll always come back," and, "This is my house."

The contradiction that Farleigh doesn't even realize he's admitted to, however, is that people don't have to be invited back to their house. He's always been as much a guest as Oliver, but he's the one who can't face the possibility of getting kicked out for good. Thus, Farleigh is the one who is really clinging to hope instead of action, the one who will never be fighting quite as hard as Oliver to ensure that possibility doesn't come true.

Farleigh gloats over Oliver's loss and takes Oliver's silence as proof that he is right. When really, Oliver doesn't gloat or bluster or protest. Oliver listens to what people tell him, and then Oliver acts.

It's the same thing we see in Oliver's confrontation with Venetia in the bathtub after Felix's funeral.

Venetia is clearly devestated by her brother's loss, and she is looking for someone to lash out at. And what a convenient, easy target Oliver seems to make. So polite, so soft-spoken, so awkward and innocent and small.

A harmless moth, batting up against the windows. At the same time, a parasite, consuming what wasn't his to take. Eating holes in her family - her family who would have greedily consumed every last drop of the sad, pitiful life he fed them for their own amusement, before casting him aside like a moth-eaten sweater abandoned in the back of a closet.

She calls him out, too, for wearing Felix's aftershave (but not the fact that he's wearing Felix's bathrobe, interestingly enough), while she's the one sprawled in Felix's bathtub. "I bet you're even wearing his underwear," she tells him scornfully, and he kisses her to prove that she'll still kiss him back, that for all her mocking words she's just as desperate as he is to cling to any scraps of Felix left behind. That for all her words to the contrary, he is a scrap of Felix left behind.

And then the harmless moth puts holes in her wrists, puts her in a hole in the ground, and walks away.

In contrast, the confrontations with Farleigh and Venetia make Oliver's confrontation with Felix in the maze all the more devastating in a different way.

With Felix, Oliver isn't quiet. He isn't timid or passive or small, and he is trying desperately not to listen when it's Felix telling him to go away, to stop, to give up, with nothing else he can latch onto for hope of a different outcome. With Felix, Oliver shouts, he protests, he snarls. He loses control of his voice and his body, even pins Felix up against the minotaur statue while he begs Felix to listen to him because he doesn't know what else to do; all he has are these words that he desperately wants to be true, that Felix doesn't want to hear.

It's Felix who is forced into silence while Oliver talks, and it is Felix who finally sees the truth that Oliver can't bear to face in himself.

It's Felix who tells Oliver, "You make my fucking blood run cold."

And he's the only one who gets it right.

[ricciardosgirl]

currently writing a slow burn farleigh romance 🤔

might make multiple parts i dunno.

keep an eye out for it!! 👀

[cdragons]

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 4

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter. Masterlist

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. ...Well, maybe you also hated Annabel Williams as much - but you'd be damned before you let a drunk girl out in the hallway without helping her.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix doesn't make an appearance (but still mentioned), Reader is a girl's girl, Annabel has an epiphany, Michael hates everyone BUT Reader, Farleigh is Farleigh, alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic. Also Oliver is barely in this chapter, but who cares about that asshat?

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the prolonged hiatus! It was not intentional! My classes have upped the ante in how much HW they gave me, and I got distracted by reading my old GOT fanfics and got ideas for it. BUT - thank you all who've been reading this fic and sharing wonderful comments! They really help push me to become a better writer!

You were caught in a bit of a pickle – granted, it was a voluntary pickle, but a pickle nonetheless.

…Okay, so quick recap of the events that transpired this week:

Regularly-scheduled Annabel tormenting you

Got sexually-harassed by Catton

Had a self-pity session at Bowin

Got found by Mikey Gravy

Olly, the psychotic backstabber/bootlicker, tried to pimp you out to Felix Catton.

You almost committed aggravated homicide of said pimp before Michael dragged you away.

You went to the movies to drool over Johnny Depp.

 You and Michael decided you would crash in his dorm room for the night…leading to your current predicament.

Right now, you were dragging an unconscious Annabel, who was drunk off her ass, with one arm flung over your shoulder as you tried to make get any information of where her dorm was out of her. It was a sad picture – mascara running down her cheeks, vomit from her mouth, and lipstick messily smeared across her face. The smell of vomit mixed with cheap booze was almost enough to make you want to drop her on the ground and leave her there if you hadn’t pitied her so much.

When you realized that you weren’t going to get anything out of her that didn’t involve projectile vomiting, you just decided to bring her to rest up in your dorm.

“I still don’t understand why you’re helping her,” Michael grunted.

Oh, yeah…and Michael was helping you, too.

“Because girl code, Gavey–” you grunted, lifting Annabel’s arm higher when you felt her slipping “–no man left behind – or well, no woman left behind in this case.”

“That’s the Geneva Code.”

“Same difference,” you groaned out. Fuck, how was this girl so heavy?

Michael’s face was getting flushed from the sweat running down his forehead. “So, girl code dictates that you have to help the bitch who’s been making your term hell?”

“Girl Code,” you huffed, “wait, hang on - she’s slipping - okay, there we go. ‘Girl Code’ is more of an honor code expected to be followed by all sisters on their journey to womanhood. And one of the most sacred rules in that honor system is that – fuck, she’s heavy – that if you see a sister drunk and unconscious, you make sure she gets home safe.”

“Or your matchbox dorm room, in this circumstance,” your friend grumbled.

You tiredly nodded. “Exactly! Besides, regardless of how heinous she is, it’s the right thing to do.”

“(Y/N), you realize she won’t be getting hypothermia, right?” Michael frustratingly groaned. “It’s late spring.”

“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there who won’t take advantage of her in her current state. They’d say, ‘Oh, she was asking for it,’ or ‘she’s just imagining things, do you remember how hammered she was?’ And then it’ll be their word against hers.”

You went silent for a bit. “I don’t want that to happen to her. No one should have that happen to them – girl or guy, bully or friend.”

“Well, in any case,” Michael started as the two of you finally arrived at the beginning of your dormitory. “It’s lucky that your dorm is so close to mine. Are you sure you want her in there? There’s still the chance she’ll vomit all over your carpet if she misses the bucket or even your covers.”

You opened the door with your ID card. “I’ll just have to take that chance, I guess. Look, I’ll try to wake her up long enough to see if she remembers any of her friend’s numbers. If any of them pick up, I’ll tell them to pick her up.”

Michael looked at you with heavy doubt in his eyes. “And if they don’t? Pick up, I mean?”

“Then I guess we’ll be having a sleepover,” you sighed as you reached your room at the end of the hallway. “And then we’ll never have to see each other ever again when morning comes.”

Michael loudly snorted while you clumsily reached into your back pocket for your keys. “Don’t jinx yourself. With your bleeding heart, you’ll probably end up donating your liver to her if she doesn’t die of alcohol poisoning first.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come one. Have a bit more faith in me – SHIT!” you exclaimed after you dropped your keys.

You quickly scrambled to the floor while Michael guffawed at your misfortune. You shot a quick glare at him to get him to shut up. The bespectacled bastard didn’t stop laughing until…like, three minutes passed. In response, you dropped Annabel’s arm from your shoulder to focus on finding your room key. You chuckled to yourself when you heard Michael curse to himself as he tried to balance the drunk girl’s weight without getting her too close to him. When you finally found it, you inserted it into the lock. You sighed in relief when the door opened. You were even more relieved that your roommate had decided to spend the night at her girlfriend’s dorm. You really didn’t want to have to explain to her why you were voluntarily helping the vile witch bitch who was actively trying to make your college years hell. Meanwhile, Michael grimaced and groaned as he held Annabel away from his body at arm’s length.

“Is sluttiness contagious through touch?” he asked.

“Unless pre-Sith Anakin suddenly pops into this hallway, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that,” you snorted as you opened the door to let Michael drag the unconscious girl into the room.

Michael scoffed at your choice of Star Wars beefcake. “Bitch, please. Young Obi-Wan Kenobi was far superior.”

He went to the center of the room and released Annabel from his grip to let her unceremoniously fall on the floor, and her body made a soft ‘thump.’ You wrinkled your nose and grimaced at the pathetic nature of tonight. She looked less like the glamorous Oxford party ‘IT’ girl and more like one of those sad groupies who OD’d in their favorite rockstar’s pool from a house party. You didn’t know what the hell her story of tonight was – but it still didn’t mean she deserved to be left alone, slumped against a wall in a dirty hallway with vomit all over her.

You turned to Michael. “Okay! Off you trot!”

Your favorite bespectacled blonde nerd gave you a look of complete bewilderment.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Not even a thank you? I literally dragged her body here from my dormitory and risked being the first victim of a new STD contracted through skin contact.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics – if he weren’t such a numbers genius, he would have been the perfect theater kid.

“Don’t be such an incel,” you admonished. “It’s not a good look on you. And I carried more of her body weight than you, dumbass. If I left it up to you, we’d never get anywhere with your twiggy arms.”

You poked his arms in emphasis and snickered when he pouted. He crossed his arms and was about to leave when you pounced on him. A bit of Annabel’s “Britney Spears Fantasy” spray perfume soaked into his shirt, but other than that, he still smelled like himself. The scent of fresh laundry, freshly mowed grass, and spearmint toothpaste made you feel safe. His scent, combined with his body heat, enveloped you in comfort.

“Thanks, Mikey,” you whispered. “I know you didn’t have to help me, but you did anyway.”

Gavey wrapped his arms around you as he rested his chin on your head. He usually hated contact with anybody save his family, but you were always the exception. Michael should probably have warned you that the rotten and acidic odor from Annabel’s puke would ruin your shirt, but he just let himself replace her cheap perfume with your fragrance. The scent of your favorite honey and jasmine conditioner in your hair mostly covered the faint traces of turpentine and linseed oil on your skin.

“Of course I did,” he softly replied. “With your shit sense of direction, you would have ended up in the bottom of the ditch.”

You gasped and lightly pushed him away. “Uhhh, way to ruin the moment!”

Michael snickered at the way your jaw had dropped in shock and betrayal. You then resorted to mockingly punching him in the stomach as he did nothing to stop you. He couldn’t help but look at you in total and utter fondness as he continued to ‘beat him up.’

But in all honesty, Michael didn’t mind helping you. He loved it. He’d rather get Crucio-ed than say it, but you were his favorite person in the whole world. In a desert of fakes and masks of insincerity, you were like gentle rain with your genuine vibrance and rare honesty. He loved how endlessly kind and empathetic you were to others. He just hated it when you granted acts of kindness to the plebes unworthy of you. You’d give the benefit of the doubt to the worst of the worst on campus – Annabel being a case in point.

Remembering the drunk elephant in the room, Michael grabbed your fists and stared at you thoughtfully.

“Seriously, though,” he began, “why are you helping her? I know you told me about ‘girl code’ and all that. But is that seriously it?”

You thumped your head against his chest. “Look, I get it. Annabel is a horrible person, and with how awful she treated me – she doesn’t deserve my kindness, my help, or my pity. But that doesn’t change that it was the right thing to do. And if not us, who knows who would have picked her up? If another guy other than you ‘helped’ her…you do the math.”

A groggy voice broke the two of you apart. “Are you two going to shag? Because I can leave.”

You and Michael jumped apart as you watched Annabel lift herself from the floor and stagger to her feet. Her legs wobbled briefly before giving out, and then she fell to the floor. You turned to Michael and gave him one final hug before seeing him out. He looked disgusted at the girl sitting on the cheap carpet before turning to you, concerned. Mikey asked if you were confident you didn’t need him here to help you.

“I’ll take it from here,” you reassured him. You flexed your arm – 80s jock bully style. “I’m a tough girl. I carry my canvases and textbooks and everything, after all.”

“Okay,” he dragged out the last syllable. “But if you end up putting her down, give me a call, and I’ll help you bury the body.”

“Um,” interjected Annabel, “you know I’m right here, you arse.”

 “Hey,” you admonished, “he did help carry you here. He could have left you in that hallway alone.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “Probably did it so he could cop a feel, the slimy wanker.”

“Please,” Michael sneered, “as if I’d ever willingly touch someone with a higher body count than Dahmer and Bundy combined. I’m only here because I wanted to help (Y/N) – she’s the one who was worried about your sad self.”

Ugh, this was going to be a long night. You turned to Michael with apologetic eyes and reassured him that he wasn’t a wanker. You promised you’d make it up to him by buying all the Crunchie bars he wanted. Mikey’s eyes softened at your sincerity as he began to walk down the corridor to make the trek to his dorm.

You softly closed your door so as not to cause any further disturbance. When you turned around, you were startled by the dead stare Annabel was giving you. You looked down at your feet as you shifted uncomfortably in your spot. You cleared your throat to try and break the tension.

“Um, soooo…I’m glad you’re awake. You were sitting so still in that hall, I was worried you OD’d,” you nervously joked. But all she did was continue to stare at you. “So, do you have your phone with you? I figured it would be best if you called one of your friends. I’m sure they’re really worried about you. I know I’d be going out of my mind if one of my friends–”

“What kind of fucking game are you playing here?” she snarled. Her large, doe-brown eyes narrowed in anger as you stopped talking.

“Uhhh,” your mind was coming out blank. “Wait, I don’t – I don’t know what you mean?”

Annabel rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t play stupid. Why’d you help me? Did you want to take pictures of me drunk and unconscious?”

Your jaw fucking dropped. “What?! NO! I just–”

“I’m sure that would’ve made some fucking good blackmail material,” ignoring you and continuing, “I can see it: ‘Annabel Williams drunk in the hall after trying to shag fucking sad Ollie.’ You’re so obvious.”

You tried to explain yourself. “Okay, look- I think there’s a big misunderstanding here–”

“Or maybe you want to show the pictures to Felix, not that he’d care or anything. You got him all wrapped up in your little Yankee finger, you know that? It’s so pathetic and sick – it makes me want to–”

“HEY!” you yelled – finally making her just shut UP. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. “Look, Michael and I were walking to his dorm when we saw you were sitting in the hallway. I tried to ask you if you had your phone on you and if you wanted me to call anyone, but you were out cold. And I couldn’t just leave you there, okay? That’s dangerous! And I didn’t know where you lived – you know, considering that you hate me–” you cut off your rambling with a deep breath “–so he and I dragged you to my dorm.”

The silence that followed was so stifling you wanted to open a window. Maybe if you let some fresh air in, it might calm the girl down. It would also help diffuse some of the puke odor stinking up your room.

“…Anyway, if you don’t have your phone on you right now, I can always call them myself. Do you remember their numbers? I know you and India are close. Do you think she’s available right now?”

More silence.

You began fidgeting. “I mean, you can stay over if no one is available? I don’t mind since my roommate is sleeping over–”

Annabel interrupted you again. “You’re so full of it. You just wanted to help me? For what? For the sake of being the goody-two-shoes kiss-ass, you’ve always been? Did you want me to bow and worship you?”

“Annabel,” you groaned, “it’s been a really long night, okay? And I don’t feel like arguing when you aren’t sober and in your right mind.”

“Oh yeah,” she bitterly laughed. “Be a pushover, and get everyone to love you. Tell everyone how much of a ‘heinous’ bitch I am. Play the victim – that’s all you’ll ever be. Just go back with your pathetic little nerd friend and be invisible and boring like the goody-goody who thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”

The quiet in the room was surprisingly loud. Shock and disbelief morphed into fury as your fists clenched so hard that your nails left red welts on your skin. Your body trembled in anger as your tongue felt too heavy to express everything you wanted to say.

‘Pushover’ she called you? ‘Play the victim,’ she said?

Who the hell was she to have any right to judge you? Did she have any idea what you’ve sacrificed? How much have you suffered and left behind? Could she even have the slightest decency to understand what you’ve been through? Of what she put you through?

…You know what? …Fuck her. Fuck Annabel Williams and all of Oxford’s elite. They were proof that Michael was right – that doing the right thing meant nothing to them.

Your voice was cold, and your eyes were numb. “…I’m going to take a shower,” you grab a towel and your shower buddy. “I want you to get the hell out of my dorm by the time I get back. Call your friend or don’t? Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

You slammed the door on your way out.

“Finally,” Annabel thought with some relief, “she’s gone.”

When you left, the room felt ten degrees colder the way the door slammed, and Annabel felt goosebumps form on her arm. This was the worst night of her life. She had never felt so humiliated.

Her mummy told her she was just born blessed because God knew she was exceptional, and she always believed that to be true. For her entire life, she was the girl every boy wanted to bed and the girl every girl wanted to be. She never had to fight for anyone’s attention. Her parents gladly bought her the latest versions of top-of-the-line technology. Her closet here and at her parent’s townhouse in Kensington was filled with designer-brand exclusives and limited-editions. She had everything.

For people like her, life was supposed to be easy. She was born at the top, so she would be there till the day she died.

So why was she losing to you?

When she came to Oxford, she figured it would be as easy as most of her life. She’d spend her time partying and networking with the right people. If she had to blackmail a nerd to take her classes or blow a teacher to give her an “A”? Who would say otherwise?

But then she met Felix Catton and finally felt she had met her match. Finally, there was someone who checked all the boxes: rich, tall, handsome, and fun. That part made Felix the golden sheep who stood above the rest of the flock – he was fun. Not only did he know how to have a good time, he knew how to properly fuck a girl, too.

She was so drunk off the taste of his lips and the feel of him around her – so much so that she broke her golden rule.

“Never fall first.”

Annabel felt herself falling hard for Felix Catton. She thought they were exclusive. He was her boyfriend, and she was his girlfriend. But then…he became distant. He stopped calling he and ignored her when they returned to campus after the break. But then he and she left the bar at Kings’ Crossing, and she was so happy! She wanted to cry when he kissed her hard and ripped her 100 quid top in half.

It didn’t matter if she wasn’t wet when he entered her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t wait for her to adjust when he started to thrust. It didn’t matter when she tried to moan his name; he would cover her mouth with his giant hand to shut her up. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t close to finishing when he came inside her. It didn’t matter when her windpipes were almost crushed when he fell on top of her after finishing.

They were together. He chose her! Annabel and Felix – Mrs. Felix Catton, she could see it now. They’d have a wedding in his house at Saltburn. She would have to meet his parents, but she wasn’t worried – all her flings’ parents loved her! They would be together forever, and nothing would ever–

“(Y/N),” Felix whispered above her – and Annabel’s world completely fell apart.

She immediately shoved his body off hers and hurriedly dressed before getting the hell out of his room. Annabel didn’t bother putting on her shoes before running with tears down her face to her dorm. And when she returned to her single, she flung herself to her bed and cried to sleep. She didn’t bother attending class that week – not when her heart broke.

Felix had been thinking about you – you. He called out your name after finishing. Was he imagining your naked body when hers was under him? Had he been imagining you every time he fucked her?

Annabel smelled Felix’s aftershave and wanted to rip the skin off her body. God, she never felt more like a whore in her entire life.

“God,” she thought, “I was so pathetic! How could I be so stupid to fall for Felix Catton? Why did I trick myself into hoping that we would be together?”

Felix wanted a good girl—like you—the American scholarship student who wanted to paint pretty pictures and was at the top of her classes. The lovely New Yorker who hung around losers and still held your head up high despite every professor thinking you were in over your head to come here. Some pushover bitch who was so pathetic and actually–

The door slammed open again, and Annabel’s pretty sure she’d scream if she weren’t so fucking tired. You came storming in with your towel and shower caddy in your hands, and your eyes were a raging storm while your lips were pursed like you had sucked a lemon. Your nostrils are flaring as you angrily breathe through your nose. Annabel was about to open her mouth, but you menacingly pointed at her with your pointer finger. It felt like forever until you finally opened your mouth.

“Look! We don’t have to be friends and I don’t expect us to be friends – but you know what? YES, I WOULD LIKE A THANK YOU! I dragged your unconscious ass across campus, and you REEKED of vomit and bad perfume! And not to body shame, but you are WAY TOO SKINNY to be healthy to be as heavy as you were when I carried you!”

“Excuse me?!” Annabel sputtered. “Who the fuck–”

“Oh! I’m not done!” you shouted. “I don’t know if you being horrible and a bitch is supposed to be some power trip or some shit, but it’s so cliché! Are we in Mean Girls? Are you Regina George? No, am I Janice from Lebanon? NO! And on that – I have a few bones to pick with you…MISSY!

I–” You pointed to yourself “–am NOT a pushover, okay? I fucking beat your stupid manwhore boy toy like it was goddamn ‘Whack o’ Mole’ for ruining my painting! Pushovers don’t do that!  FURTHERMORE – me calling you a ‘horrible person’ or ‘heinous bitch’ isn’t me ‘playing the victim’! You HAVE been a HORRIBLE person to me, alright? And what’s worse – I don’t have the slightest idea why! Was it something I said to you last term? Or were you born a spoilt princess who never had to work for anything in her life because mommy and daddy will always give you everything you want so you could forget that they would probably instead work than deal with their brat? Seriously – what is it? Because you’re driving me CRAZY!”

When you were done, Annabel sat on the floor, completely silent, and stared at you unblinkingly. She hadn’t expected you to come back so quickly – let alone to scream at her. She stared at your huffing and shallow breathing in awe and slight amazement. Your hair looked frazzled from your outburst, and your (e/c) eyes were bright with wild impulse.

Annabel felt her bottom lip quiver and stared at an ugly stain on the carpet. She didn’t want to show any more of herself than she had already. But what the hell? You already saw more of her than most of her so-called ‘friends.’ What was a little more? If she had to show more of the ugliest parts of herself, why not show it to someone she already hated?

Before she could stop herself, Annabel felt her shoulders sag and shake as sobs tore through her petite frame. Tears and snot were running down her face as she furiously tried to wipe them away – if nothing but to try and save some shred of dignity. Annabel was crying so much that she didn’t see the surprised look on your face morph to slight guilt since you thought you may gone too far with your rant. You reached out to tap her shoulder when you heard her speak.

“Why doesn’t he want me?” she sobbed. “What do I have to do to get him to love me?”

If you were taken aback by her crying, you were completely caught off-guard by her questions. You walked over to your desk and grabbed a box of tissues before crouching on the ground. You handed her a few tissues from the box and waved to her face to present them. Annabel noticed how you tried hard not to see how much her hand trembled when she reached forward to grab the tissues from you.

“Who?” you softly asked her. “Are you talking about Felix?”

Annabel blew her nose into the tissue hard. “Who else?! I mean…look at me! Everyone wants me! Everyone – boys, girls, teachers! Do you know how many of my past flings gladly emptied their pockets so I might wank them? But he wants you! What do you have that I don’t?”

Concern and pity shifted to confusion before realization kicked in, and you were so done with this conversation already. Maybe you were a slightly horrible person for this, but you felt so disappointed when Annabel told you that her entire drama with you had been over Felix Catton.

“…That’s why you’ve been tormenting me this entire term so far?” you flatly asked. “Because of Felix Catton?”

“He called out your name–” she gasped a heavy sob “– while he was fucking me! Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“Okay, wow,” you thought, “that’s actually really shitty – fuck.”

“Do you know how humiliating that was for me? He was still inside me, for fucks’ sake! I felt him shrink!”

Okay – that was so much more information about Annabel’s and Felix’s sex life than you ever wanted to know.

You coughed into your hand as your face flushed red. “Oh, um–I’ve never really…done it before. So…I wouldn’t really don’t know how that feels.”

“Ugh, of course, you’re a virgin,” she groaned. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink either.”

When you remained silent, Annabel let out a bitter laugh. “Damn, you think you’re hot shit and everything. But you really are a goody-goody. What – you saving yourself for God or some shit?”

“HEY! Just because I like to keep my head down and not a party and get plastered every five minutes doesn’t make me a goody-two-shoes. I just don’t like the taste of alcohol, and increased chances of lung cancer doesn’t exactly spell out ‘fun’ for me.”

But Annabel ignores your outburst and continues to dismiss you. “Yeah, right. I bet you call your mommy and daddy every night. Do you tell them that you miss them and want to go home? Or do you wish to bake cookies with your mummy as daddy watches the telly?”

Annabel’s taunting is only responded to with silence as she grows confused by your melancholic expression.

“…I can’t call them at all,” you respond. “International calls are too expensive. The best I can do is email or Skype. And planned calls can hardly be reliable since my parents’ schedules are always all over the place with their jobs.”

“When–” Annabel’s voice cracked “– when’s the last time you saw them? In real life?”

“I was supposed to see them during Christmas Break,” you bitterly explained, “but then Felix crashed into me when I was on my way to deliver it. He ruined my painting, and I had to redo it completely, not to fail and completely flush my parents’ money down the drain.”

“I thought you were here on scholarship? Doesn’t that mean you don’t have to pay to come here?”

“I’m here on a partial scholarship,” you explained. “It covers a good part of my tuition, but not all of it – and definitely not for housing and meal plans. Travel expenses alone were so expensive, so I had to leave alone. Mom cried so much at the security checkpoint, and Dad almost didn’t want me to go. I didn’t even want to go. But they wanted me to experience more of the world while I still could.”

“…Do you miss them?” Annabel asked. She felt silly asking a question with such an obvious answer. But, hearing how you talked about your parents crying their goodbyes to you compared to the simple wave she got hers after they dropped her off campus made her feel a deep longing.

You let out a shaky sob. “More than anything. You never realize how much you miss your home and family until an entire ocean separates you.”

Annabel uncomfortably shifted in her spot as she noticed your eyes getting misty. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried over missing her parents and felt that you were being overdramatic. Annabel spent her entire break with her parents at their house, but she couldn’t remember the last time they ate at the same table unless it was for one of her dad’s dinner parties. What did it feel like – to miss and love someone so much after not seeing them for a year?

What did it feel like – to have an entire lifetime of that kind of love?

Does having that kind of love make you?

“…Why did you help me?” Annabel finally asked. She couldn’t bear the tension anymore. “You could have just left me there. Why help me and bring me here of all places?”

“…Because it was the right thing to do,” you explained and shrugged. “You were drunk and vulnerable. Maybe it was fear of being a potential bystander if someone tried to take advantage of you – but I was scared something was going to happen to you. Regardless of my feelings toward you and yours toward me, no one should ever find themselves in a position where if they’re telling the truth, it’s someone else’s word against theirs. I’ve seen it too happen many times already.”

“What do you say in response to that?” Annabel thought to herself – shocked by how genuinely you answered her question. Since you were honest with her, she figured she could at least be honest with you.

“If it were you,” she began, “I wouldn’t have done for you what you did for me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “you probably wouldn’t – but that’s neither here nor there. Because I’m me, and you’re you.”

“…Are you really not interested in Felix?” Annabel asked. She was surprised by your disgusted groan.

“Oh my god–” you put your face into your hands and loudly groaned “–I don’t understand why everyone has an obsession with this guy.”

Annabel raised her brow. “Seriously?”

“Yes! He’s so gross – I studied in an empty classroom last week. He sat next to me, basically propositioned me, and then put his hand on my thigh! Does that sound like someone I would want to date?”

“You know he’s just doing it to get your attention because he likes you, right?”

You scoffed at her input. “Pffft– and that makes it alright of him to invade my personal space via sexual harassment? I hate how everyone makes excuses for him – and why? Because he’s richer than God and has an ‘alright-looking’ face? So what?”

“Oh, believe me,” snickered Annabel, “he’s more than just ‘alright-looking’ and he fucks as good as he looks.”

You sagely shook your head. “A person like that has nothing to offer himself. He desperately clings to his family’s wealth and the benefits of his status so tightly – and he pretends not to enjoy it, but he’s the type of person to love leeching on someone’s misfortune to feel better about himself.”

You shuddered as you remembered Felix’s constant leering at you since the term began.

“He’s like a vampire – I’ve seen enough of them in high school to recognize them from miles away.”

Annabel was utterly silent at your analysis of Oxford’s Golden Boy. She never considered the possibility of someone out there who didn’t absolutely covet and revere him. She assumed that you were purposely playing ‘hard-to-get’ to get his attention, but maybe you were sincere in his disgust by him.

“Plus, he looks like the type to be absolutely shit at foreplay and only knows how to stick it in.”

Annabel was so caught off-guard by your statement that she immediately burst out laughing. You were surprised by her reaction and started to laugh, too. She was laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and her stomach started to hurt.

“HE IS!” she agreed while nodding. “He does the bare minimum! I’ve been giving him constant blowjobs, and I can count the number of times he’s eaten me out with one hand! The only type of prep he knows how to do is finger me!”

“Oh my god! EW!” you guffawed. “Why did you put up with him for so long?!”

Annabel shrugged. “He’s the most popular guy on campus – even the upperclassmen adore him. I was always the popular girl throughout primary and secondary prep. It just made sense.”

“My parents told me college was all about discovering new things about yourself,” you said. “Maybe…you could do that for yourself.”

Annabel looked wistful before nodding. “Yeah…you know this doesn’t mean we’re friends, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, tonight’s the last night I’m willingly dealing with a demon like you. I’ll stick to forcing Michael to watch my favorite Johnny Depp movies—thank you very much.”

Annabel watched your eyes soften at the mention of your friend…Michael Gravy? Was he the guy who left the two of you together after snarking at her?

…Oh god, it all made sense now.

“Are you and Gravy fucking?” she bluntly asked. She huffed in amusement at how red your face became as you began to sputter.

“WHAT?! No-NO! We’re friends!” you exclaimed before getting all shy.

“You were awfully protective of him a bit ago to be ‘just friends,’” Annabel countered. “Spill it – what’s going on between you two?”

“He’s my best friend,” you explained to Annabel. “He let me stay with his family after I finished repainting my assignment – which was really amazing of him.”

She watched how you smiled when continuing to talk about him.

“I know he can seem a bit odd and rude at first,” you continued. “But Michael is one of the best people on campus. He can be really sweet when you get close to him – especially when he talks about his family. His little sister, Lily, is so adorable! He’s a total nerd but a complete sweetheart when you get to know him.”

Annabel bemusedly watched as you gushed about your ‘best friend.’ It was almost sweet how gone you were for the nerd. You didn’t even realize how gone you were for him. For a bit, Annabel could see why Felix was so enamored with you.

“Well,” she interrupted as she stood up, “I guess your obliviousness to your feelings isn’t any of my business or whatever. Thanks for…helping me – it was really nice of you.”

You warmly smiled at her. “Sure! Do you have to meet anyone tomorrow morning?”

“Uh, no?”

You walked to your closet and grabbed a towel, a worn T-shirt, and old sweats. You handed them to her as Annabel looked at you in confusion.

“Since you’re here,” you began, “and it’s already like…3 a.m. – you might as well shower and stay over since tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“…Why?”

“You still have puke all over you,” you explained, “and it’s getting really hard pretending it’s not extremely gross. Plus, I can’t imagine you’re comfortable right now.”

“What’s with the clothes?”

You shrugged. “Well, I can’t exactly have you sleep in your dress and ruin my sheets! You can shower and sleep on my bed while I sleep on my roommate’s. Now, are you going to take them?”

Annabel hesitated before she took the bundle from your hands. You then opened the door. While holding it, you looked at her as if expecting her to follow you. What confused her most was the way she did exactly that.

While in the shower, she didn’t even mind that you didn’t have any of her usual hair products. Your conditioner looked like it was bought at a cheap dollar store – you didn’t even have a loofah. But when she exited the shower stall before drying herself with your towel and changing into your baggy clothes, she felt calmer than she had these past few weeks. As she crawled under your sheets and comforter, you turned off the night and wished her good night.

Annabel stared at the ceiling for about an hour before she grabbed her phone. She managed to find it while digging through her dress pockets. She was going to wash it when she got back to her dorm. Opening it, she rolled down at the dozens of messages from India and their girlfriends. Her eyes slightly widened at the soft *ping* her phone let out when she got a new message to show it was from Felix.

To her surprise, she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t care he messaged her that he had forgotten their plans. Staring at her screen, she just felt…nothing. So she did the very thing she should have done weeks ago.

She deleted Felix Catton’s number from her contact list.

Annabel slept better that night than she had all term.

After that night with Annabel, life simply went on. She and you weren’t ‘friends’ per se, but she no longer went out of her way to torment you like she had done before. She even told off some of her friends when they talked about you behind your back.

You two weren’t friends, but you hoped that there was at least some fraction of mutual respect. If you couldn’t be friends, then at least you two didn’t have to be enemies – you were happy to settle for being a ‘frenemy.’

You found yourself sitting by yourself at one of the tables in the library. Michael had to meet with one of his teachers about an essay but promised to meet with you as soon as he finished. You were repeatedly listening to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” when you heard the chair next to you being pulled out.

Fully expecting it to be Felix, you were ready to tell him to fuck off and bother some other poor soul that needed saving, but you were surprised to find that the person sitting next to you was his cousin, Farleigh Start. He introduced himself by stating his name and giving you a firm handshake. There wasn’t much you could do but reciprocate.

“Quite the save you gave our Annabel,” Farleigh grinned. “Very magnanimous of you, especially considering how she treated you.”

“What do you want from me?” you blurted out. “I’m busy, and I would appreciate it if you just left so I can continue studying.”

You weren’t normally so rude, but this was Felix Catton’s cousin – and if this was a ploy to get you in his pants, you wanted no part of it. But your skepticism only seemed to please the boy sitting beside you more. His wry grin curled into a wide Cheshire Cat smile as he continued to stare at you with eager fascination.

Farleigh started to lean toward you, and you instinctively leaned away from him. You eyed him with extreme caution as if he were a mad scientist and you were a paralyzed specimen. And his eyes looked like he couldn’t wait to cut you open.

“I like you,” he stated. “Let’s be friends.”

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindno, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes, @paradisepoisons, @pansexualpamandabear, @erikasurfer, @lissamans, @cookielovesbook-akie, @thesmutconnoisseur, @izzyisstuff, @lariisouz

Reblog if you liked reading this chapter and want me to continue! Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

[discopaddock]

SORE LOSER - FARLEIGH START

PAIRING: farleigh start x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff

WORD COUNT: 592

WARNINGS: my english, farleigh is a bit sad

AUTHOR'S NOTE: based on this request

Sometimes Farleigh felt like an outsider in his own house. Well maybe Saltburn wasn't his own house, but he still spent the most of his life there and when the whole Oliver situation happened, he felt even more unloved by his own family.

When the whole plate thing happened he had no idea where to go.

But then he suddenly knew.

She was the only person he ever cared about. And he hoped she cared about him too.

So he stood at the door of her family house and hoped she was inside. When he saw her mother he almost felt the tears forming in his eyes.

He asked about her. If she was at home or wasn't. The woman said nothing but called for her daughter, adding that she had a guest. The girl quickly showed at the doorstep and smiled as she saw a friend of hers.

“Hi, Farleigh” she said and hugged him and then she felt how tense he was. She knew something happened, he wouldn't be at hers if not.

He hugged her back and walked into the house next. She asked what had happened, when they were finally in her room. This very pink coloured room, that used to get on his nerves, whenever he was there, now was like some sanctuary for him.

Or maybe she just was there for him.

“They hate me” Farleigh mumbled only and hugged the white teddy bear that he gave her at her last birthday as a present.

“I'm sorry, Far” she said, kissed his cheek and hugged him again.

This was the moment that he knew – she was the one.

He could hate everyone but her. She was always there for him and he was so happy to have her around every time. He loved her and it wasn't platonic love.

“I adore you” he whispered, sure of his words. He had never said it to anybody before.

“And I adore you, Farleigh,” she answered and looked up to his face. He was smiling again. “You're staying here, right?”

“Only if your parents say so” he replied and hugged her tighter.

“Gonna ask them,” she announced and stood up. “Oh, and Farleigh, don't smoke in this house” she said dead serious and he only chuckled.

For the next few days the two of them were inseparable. Every activity they were doing together.

Farleigh even went playing golf with her and her dad, even though he found it boring.

“I won!” she yelled, satisfied, jumping a little. Farleigh only shook his head, smiling. The girl's father wasn't with them, because he was golfing with his friends, so they were alone on the course.

“Oh, stop being so grasping” he scoffed and hit the ball with his wedge.

“You are such a sore loser, Farleigh,” she said and ran after him.

“Oh, you sure?” he stopped, so she ran at him and bounced off his chest, almost falling on the ground, but he caught her.

“Yeah, yeah I am” she answered and then he kissed her without saying anything.

The girl felt like in a fairytale. Farleigh, the boy she had a crush on for years, was kissing her.

“You're an excellent kisser, you know?” he chuckled at her question and kissed her again, lifting her up a little.

“Let's go, I have to win with you” Farleigh laughed and started to run to the place where the ball fell with her hand in his.

“You're such a sore loser” the girl laughed with red cheeks and ran with him.

masterlist

[ludicdoll]

hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic

synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.

a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭

there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.

your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.

you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.

you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.

he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.

“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.

“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.

“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.

you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.

“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.

“hmm?”

“no one’s talking to me anymore.”

“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”

“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”

you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.

you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.

“please?”

you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.

you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.

you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.

“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.

© please do not publish my work on other sites.

[thought--bubble]

Subtraction

Michael Gavey X (Preacher's Daughter Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,886

Banners by @arcielee

Michael Gavey Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Warnings:: Corruption Kink, Oral sex (M receiving), Fingering, dubcon, coercion, religious guilt

A/N: This was really fun to write because I'm a math gal myself 🤣

Based on THIS request.

Michael is walking on clouds today. As far as he is concerned, today is a great fucking day.

He has been working as a tutor all semester trying to plump up his resume so he can go for that TA position he knows is going to open up next autumn.

Thus far, every student he has worked with is an airhead. The worst was Farleigh, who didn't actually want to learn anything and would just wait until Michael spoon fed him the answers and take off as soon as the assignment was finished.

But today, today Michael was told he was going to tutor you. The cutest little thing he has ever laid eyes on. With your mid-thigh length plaid skirts, high socks, and little cardigans, it was like you walked out straight out of his dreams and into Oxford.

You were a pastors daughter. Prim and proper, always walking around with that little silver cross hanging from your neck. Michael had spotted you as soon as school had started, and it only took about a month before the dreaded Felix Catton had set his sights on you. As if it wasn't bad enough that Michael's only friend Oliver had already been wrapped up in Felix's little web now, Michael had to watch that web get spun around you.

Which is why it came as such a big surprise when you turned him down. Felix had been trying for weeks to hook up with you. Following you around like a puppy, it made Michael sick. Couldn't Felix see how special you are? How could he treat you as just another name in his little black book?

Michael's vindication came in the form of a very public rejection where you called out Felix for "only wanting one thing" in the courtyard for multiple students and staff to see.

The public embarrassment this afforded Felix only made Michael more enamored with you. He found himself constantly daydreaming of you. He imagined you sitting on his lap as he kissed you. Your pure innocent lips on his never having been soiled by another man's touch. He imagines pushing up that little plaid skirt and sinking his fingers deep into that cunt, sweet. Innocent, and just for him.

Michael was feeling a bit nervous as he sat and waited for you in the library. He knew his personality left a lot to be desired. If there was anyone in this wretched place, he didn't want to scare off with his brashness it was you.

"Just be normal. Just be normal, " he whispers to himself as he continues to wait, fingers tapping on the thick wooden table.

"She was supposed to be here by now," he wonders aloud. She didn't show up because it's me probably. She's heard all the horror stories of me being annoying or weird. I've already ruined it before I had a chance to meet her. Well, if she's going to be like that, then I wouldn't want her anyway. She's just like all these other posh Neanderthals. Judging someone before they've even properly gotten to know them.

Michael's brain continues to rattle off thought after thought bouncing between sadness, rejection, and anger, as he glares toward the entry to the library picking at the table with his fingernail.

Then you walk in, books clung tightly to your chest, a pink and gray pleated skirt, white knee high socks and those cute black shoes with the straps, a pink cardigan and shining in the light the dainty silver cross you're never seen without.

He sits up straighter, clearing his throat, as he subtly shifts his books, notebooks, and pens on the table.

"Michael?" Your voice sounds so sweet to Michael that he has to force himself not to salivate.

"Yes. That's me, I take it you're my new pupil?" Keep calm, Gavey. Don't act like a creep. He repeats these two rules to himself while sporting a look of indifference on his face.

You reach your hand out to him and tell him your name. He takes your hand and shakes it. So small, soft, and delicate. Perfect hands. Just the right size to be engulfed by Michael's rather sizable hands, he thinks to himself.

"Hello?" You look at him questioningly as he stares at you while absent-mindedly continuing to shake your hand for far longer than was necessary.

What you didn't know was in Michael's head he was all over you, he had you bent over this wooden table, skirt pushed up to reveal your rounded bum, him sliding himself in and out of your body while you begged him for more.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, and his cheeks burn crimson when he realizes he is still shaking your hand. "Right.. umm" he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and pulls on the collar of his shirt. The heat on his face has traveled to his chest.

As you sit, he can't help but watch you. You're so gentle from the way you sit to the way you place your books on the table.

"So what specifically are you struggling with?" He already knows she is failing the class in its entirety, but he can't seem to find another way to initiate conversation.

You whimper, and Michael just about dies

"Everything. Every single thing." You put your hands over your face clearly stressed.

"Oh. Well, we will start from the beginning then." Michael starts with what he thinks will be the easiest, basic statistics.

Even with this, you struggle greatly, the hours spent in the library do prove beneficial but only slightly and the novelty of being with you has started to wear off for Michael due to the sheer shock of how bad you are at this.

Michael rubs his temples, his head just barely hovering over the wood of the library table. "Did they not touch on any of this in secondary school?"

"They did, I wasn't any good there either, but I was able to make it up in other ways"

Michael lifts his head and looks at you quizzically. "Other ways?"

"Extra credit, community service, church duty." You explained this as if it was perfectly normal to pass maths because you picked up an extra shift helping at the church.

Michael blinks as he blankly stares back at you. "Right.......of course...... obviously......"

He looks around the library and sees it's mostly cleared out. "Well they'll be kicking us out of here any minute now" He sighs as he closes the books on the table packing up to leave, relieved that this elongated torture session has come to a close.

You stand up nervously. "No!" You didn't mean to shriek, but you did, voice reverberating around the nearly empty library.

"The quiz is in two days! I..... I can't fail! My father! He will....... oh no, please! Keep going. I'll do anything!"

Michael immediately stops moving and fights the small smirk, clawing its way across his features. Anything. I'll do anything. The words float through his mind like a beautiful song he has been waiting to hear.

Anything.

"Well, you could come back to my dorm, and we could continue......." He starts as he looks around sheepishly.

"Yes! Oh my goodness, yes! Thank you, Michael!" You excitedly collect the rest of your things from the table.

"But," Michael interjects. "We will have to....... make the process more interesting because i was nearly falling asleep a moment ago"

"Sure! whatever you suggest." You beam a smile at him, and he smirks. Oh, he has a suggestion that will keep both of them awake.

Michael opens the door to his dorm, holding his arm out and gesturing for you to go first.

You enter the room and look around. It's extremely neat. No personal effects save for a photo of Michael and his parents.

Michael walks in behind you, closing the door and setting his books down on the small table in the corner.

"Sit." He motions toward the chair across from him.

You place your books down on the table and slowly lower yourself into the chair.

" So I have an idea...... that might give you the proper.... motivation" his eyes travel up and down your form, and he slightly bites on his bottom lip before he continues. "I'm going to show you an example problem. Then I'm going to give you the same type of problem to solve. If you get it right, i remove an article of clothing. If you get it wrong, you do"

"Oh! umm Michael.... I'm not sure. " You nervously wring your hands in your lap. You are terrible at maths you would surely end up naked in no time.

"You said anything, and this will keep me awake. We could always just call it for the night......" He trails off looking to the side.

"Wait! no! ok"

Michael smirks. "Ok, then let's get started.

As expected, you get most answers wrong first, taking off your shoes, socks, and earrings. When you finally get one right, Michael chuckles and takes off his belt.

"Good, good. See? What did I tell you? proper motivation." He scoots his chair forward, a bit closing the space between you.

A few more problems later you are sitting there in nothing but a bra and panties Michael in his shirt and boxers.

As you try to focus on the current problem, you can't help but be distracted by the rather sizable bulge in his boxers.

"T-there," your voice faulters as you slide the paper back towards Michael for his review. He looks it over quickly.

"Sorry darling, that's not quite it." He leans forward, explaining where you went wrong with the formula.

"Oh." You feel the heat pool in your cheeks as you unlatch your bra. Trying to cover your breasts as you remove it.

Michael's eyes light up as he takes in your almost nude form. The bulge in his boxers becomes even more apparent as he races to write you up a new problem.

"What happens when I run out of clothes?" You know, at this point, it is an inevitability that you will end up completely nude, but you are learning and starting to get problems correct. If you can learn just enough to pass the quiz, you could possibly save your grade in this class.

"We will figure something out between the two of us, I'm sure." He brings his hand down to your knee, gently rubbing circles there with his thumb.

You focus completely on the next math problem, trying desperately to hold off the inevitable removal of your panties.

"Bravo!" Michael cheers as you slide a math problem done correctly over to him. "Guess you survive this round" He stands up from the chair and pulls his boxers off, exposing his fully erect cock.

You mean to look away. You should look away, right? That would be the polite thing to do but you can't. He is long and girthy and painfully hard.

He gently rubs at himself, watching you watch him. "Hmmm, next problem," he slides the paper over to you.

"Right, of course." You take the paper and try to focus on the problem as your eyes consistently slide back towards him as he strokes himself slowly.

"I don't mind if you look" He rubs his thumb over the slit and the tip of his cock spreading the precum around the head.

Your entire face flushes with heat. "I wasn't, ummm." You look back at the problem trying to work it out. You feel like you are writing hieroglyphics, as if you have never seen these symbols before.

"Well, that's incorrect, sorry." Michael grins happily as he waits for you to remove your final article of clothing.

"I can't. I can't expose that. " You nervously rub your palms against your thighs.

"How about we just do this?" Michael leans forward and slides your panties to the side.

Your eyes go wide, and you make a loud gulping sound.

"That's not so bad, is it?" Michael runs a finger up your slit feeling the obvious wetness there. "From what I gather, you seem to be enjoying this"

He collects some of your slick and brings it up to your pearl, drawing slow circles around the nerve.

"Oh!" You instantly close your eyes. You have touched yourself before. Something you would always pray for forgiveness for right after, but this felt different. Micheal's large finger and course fingertip make the sensation more intense, and your body instantly reacts, wanting more.

"Ahh." You breathe out as Michael applies more pressure to your bud, increasing the speed at which he applies that pressure.

Michael leans forward, completely kissing up the side of your neck. "It's ok. I won't tell anyone."

"I .... I have to remain chaste. " You moan as he slides a finger into you while holding the pressure down on your bud.

"There are things we can do without....... breaking the seal..... just relax, " He whispers into your ear as he continues sliding his finger against your walls.

You feel the pleasure building up in your lower stomach and instinctually spread your legs wider.

"That's it, good girl, I'm going to make you feel really good, ok?"

Your head rolls back as the pressure continues to build, the guilt in your mind losing to the pleasure coursing through your nerves.

Micheal moves his thumb quickly against your clit and pushes against the spongey spot inside your walls and sends you into a tailspin.

"Oh, Michael! Michael!" You gasp as the pressure in your stomach pulls taught, threatening to snap at any moment.

"I got you, let go for me, beautiful." As he whispers these words into your ear, the band snaps.

"Ahhhh, Mich-" You can't get the words out as your jaw goes slack and your entire body vibrates.

Michael continues his movements while you ride out your high, only pulling his hand away once you whimper at the overstimulation.

Michael takes your juices and rubs them on his cock as he slowly strokes himself. "That was glorious, you look so pretty when you cum"

You watch him touch himself with curiosity. "I can teach you more than maths." he says suddenly as he increases the pace of his movements.

"Come here." He motions you toward him, and like a puppet on a string, you go to him. You have already gone this far. What is stopping you now?

"Get on your knees." You quickly comply, dropping to your knees before him.

"Good, think you are going to learn this much quicker" He brings the weeping head of his cock to your lips.

You flick your tongue out and lick the tip you had heard of oral sex before. Kind of had a decent idea of what it entailed.

Michael groans. "Open up and flip your lips over your teeth."

You follow his instructions and he slides his cock into your mouth pushing past your lips. "Good, good, breath through your nose."

He grips the hair at the top of your head slowly dragging you forward pushing more of his cock into your mouth.

"Use your tongue beautiful" He sighs with pleasure as you slide your tongue along the underside of his cock.

"So fucking good." The grip on your hair tightens as he pushes further hitting the back of your throat, earning him a gag.

"What a pretty sound," He coos as he starts to move his hips while holding your head in place.

"Just like that." His breathing gets heavier as his speed increases. "Fuck, yes. Look at me" He grunts as he starts to batter the back of your throat with his cockhead.

You look up at him with tears streaking down your face and drool slipping from your chin.

"Almost there." He wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "So pretty when you cry"

Michael grips your hair tight, pushing himself fast and hard into your throat.

"You're gonna swallow what I give you" You do your best to attempt to nod while he fucks your face, pushing himself as far as he will go, the hairs at his base coming in contact with your nose and chin.

"That's it right there...... FUCK!" Michael spurts directly into your throat. You hardly have to swallow at all.

He pulls himself out of your mouth and smiles down at you, wiping the drool off of your chin.

"Think we can call it a night, yeah?" He pulls his boxers up and collapses back in the chair a look of lazy satisfaction on his face.

"Yeah, that might be best." You wipe the tears from your face and gather your clothes.

"There are still two more days before the quiz. Come back tomorrow, and we can continue." Michael gets out of the chair and wraps his arms around you from behind, gently kissing your neck.

"I love teaching you. Tell me you'll come back tomorrow."

You blush at his words, "Yes, I'll be back tomorrow"

Micheal sees you out and watches as you walk down the hallway and disappear out of sight before going back into his room and flopping onto his bed with a contented sigh before he chuckles to himself.

"I got what Felix couldn't"

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[mellowmistt]

First Time- Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You and Matt were each other’s first relationship. After a few weeks of dating, a hot make out goes to the next step, leading to the first time for you both…

Warnings: smut; fluff; swearing;first time sex; NO use of y/n, established relationship

A/N: I don’t use any degrading kink language with characters (e.g slut) or overusing of words such as baby, bc idk bout you guys but it kinda cringes me out when i see that in other fanfics, okay back to the story :)

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

My head was nestled into Matt’s arm, we were watching Saltburn snuggled up in his bed. The dim light and pumpkin spice candles set the cosy vibe.

“I love this bit!” I say, as the scene in the movie cuts to the part where Oliver does karaoke, followed by the majestic singing of Farleigh.

“You took me to a rest-aur-ant..OFF BROADWAYYY” I sing, imitating the scene, followed by soft laughter from Matt.

“Not half bad” Matt jokes.

I lift up my head and smile teasingly, before leaning in and joining our lips.

“Your’e so pretty when you do that.” Matt says in a soft voice.

His voice along with his compliment only made me smile more, I turned away as my cheeks flushed red.

“You want another drink, I’m gonna go grab another cola.” I say turning back to him.

“Noo don’t leave me.” He jokes, making a sad face filled by another soft chuckle.

“I’m literally just going down the hall, don’t be so dramatic” I tease, with a grin spreading across my face. I lean in to kiss him again before leaving, just as I was about to get up he pulls me back towards him, elongating the kiss. One of his hands on my waist, slowly pulling me closer, the other gliding through my hair. I move my legs over his waist, straddling him as we continue to kiss. Our hands interlock and lay on each side of his head. I pull away, coming back to the realisation that I was on top of him. We were staring back at each other for a moment, it’s like a compulsion takes over my body when I kiss him like that. Like the world stops and suddenly it’s just us.

Suddenly I feel a hard wedge underneath me, a small, but unnoticeable gasps escapes me as I realise what it was, what he craved. I slowly pull off my shirt, alluring to his desires,leaving him the sight of my baby pink bra as I lean in to kiss him again. I start to slowly grind my waist against his, teasing him more. I could see his eyes squinting in reaction to my movements. I couldn’t help but smile at what I was doing to him, making him mine.

He pulls away from the kiss, trying to suppress his deep breaths when suddenly he grabs onto my forearms and rolls me over so I’m lay on my back and he’s hovering over me. He then takes off his shirt, and leans in to connect his soft lips to mine once more. His hands start toying with my bra straps, and tracing the shape of my chest to my waist. He pulls away and looks deep into my eyes, he didn’t even have to speak, I could tell by his expression that he was awaiting my approval for what was about to happen. I nod, smiling back at him.

“You sure?, don’t feel like you have to, we can wait-” He whispers as moves a strand of hair out of my face gently.

“Positive” I reply. We had already had the discussion about me being on the pill, I was ready.

He smiles and kisses my nose before getting up and removing his sweats. I slowly pull off my shorts and toast them on the floor. As Matt climbs back onto the bed I grab his shoulders and guide him down onto his back, I returned to straddle him again. I unclipped my bra, and allowed him to pull it off. I saw his eyes widen slightly as he was exposed to the sight of my boobs. He then started to tug on my panties, I helped to pull them off, leaning forward to kiss his neck whilst doing so.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he says as he eyes my body up and down. I reach my hand down to find his tip, and start gliding my hand in a up-and-down motion. His eyes close in reflex to the stimulation, filled by more exhales. After a few moments I lift myself up slightly, adjusting my position so that my entrance was directly above his tip. I slowly ease myself onto him, with the help of my lubricated arousal to smoothly glide on. Matt watched as I controlled the act, opening his mouth in a silent moan as I intake his member. It takes a moment for each inch I intake, the feeling was intense and slightly painful, but a good pain, a pain I didn’t mind. Especially with him. When he was fully inside of me I slowly moved up again. The sensation was so strange, it felt so good but uncomfortable at the same time.

After a few slow movements, having gotten used to his size, I started to speed up. My hands were tracing his chest, moving down to his waist. We synchronised with the silent moans and exhales, trying not to be loud or give away what we were doing since his brothers were both above and below us in the house. His hands were on either side of my waist, assisting in my movements. As my movement were increasing, I was reaching my climax. I sped up, it was becoming impossible to stay silent. A small moan escaped my mouth followed by a gasp of fear that it was noticeable enough to hear elsewhere in the house. My back arched and my head tilted back in response to the fireworks coarsing through my nerves, itching to release. The uncomfortable feeling was now absent, only pure pleasure.

As I could feel him grazing my g-spot, I subconsciously started to roll my hips up and down against him, then suddenly it exploded out of me, making me moan even louder. I let out a series of deep breaths in attempt to regain my breathing, my legs felt like jelly at this point. Matt smiled as I rode out my high.

His hands grabbed my arm once again as he flipped me onto me back.

“Just relax” he whispered as he reinserted himself, slow motions allowing me time to recover from my orgasm. He leant forward, resting one of his arms at the side of my head, the other brushing over my breasts. He began coating my neck with kisses as he began to increase the speed of his thrusts. I ran my fingers through his hair as I lay my head back, still sensitive from the recent pleasure, I could feel another climax approaching. Matt continued his fast motions, almost reaching his high.

“I’m gonna-“ he whispered, his voice trailing off as he finished. Evidently, I finished again just as he did, which made the moment more euphoric. As he slowed down, regaining his breath, he leant in to kiss me again. His tongue danced with mine for a moment, before he rolled off of me and lay down next to me again. We lay breathless for a few moments.

After fully calming down, I stood up and ran to his bathroom, he trailed behind me. I sat down to pee on the toilet, still a little sensitive as Matt grabbed some toilet paper to wipe himself down.

“So that was amazing” I state, flushing the chain. Matt pulls me in to a hug again, and leaves a kiss on my forehead.

“That was pretty fucking incredible” he whispered back. “You were incredible”he smiled.

“I love you” I said, smiling up at his soft smile.

“I love you more” he said back, holding my face in his hands.

“I think I’m gonna hop in the shower, wanna join?” I say, twirling a strand of my hair with a smirk.

“That sounds so fucking good right now” He replies before flipping on the water.

[stvolanis]

Hearts & Kisses

(I have multiple asks in my inbox for Farleigh x Plus size! Reader, so here y’all go!!)

PAIRINGS: Farleigh Start x Fem! Plus size! Reader

WARNINGS: foul language, body dysmorphia,slight angst, emotional reader, crying, mentions of blood, fluff, Farleigh being a sweetheart, pet names, use of the word “fat”, people are fucking rude

NSFW WARNINGS: sub!reader, soft Dom!Farleigh, praise, body worship but in a cutesy way, slight perv!Farleigh, slight nipple play, emotional sex, groping, making out, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, overall cute sex

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Your whole life, it feels as though the world was somehow molded to revolve around your weight. It was like the people around you didn’t allow you to have any other kind of personality rather than just being “the fat friend”, to put it bluntly.

Venetia was your best friend, but even she, sometimes, made you upset when it came to that aspect.

Like when she’d complain to you about how she was gaining weight, and needed to start counting her calories again. Or when something wouldn’t fit her the way she wanted it to cause of the faintest chub of her stomach, which honestly suited her petite body.

Having lived in her shadow, it was no surprise that every man you’ve ever liked, ended up liking Venetia instead. It was easier to like Venetia. She was pretty, skinny, outgoing, the whole package deal in the form of a raging she-demon. Any man would be dumb to pass up any offer Venetia laid to them.

She comforted you, of course, and knew of your insecurities and struggles you faced of being bigger than some. She tried her best to make you feel better about it, in her own odd Venetia way, and you loved her dearly for that—but it just wasn’t enough. You longed for men to look at you the way they did her.

You knew you shouldn’t have, but sometimes you wished Venetia was the token “fat friend”. Even if it were just for a day, so she could truly understand what it was like being in your shoes. Maybe then she wouldn’t tell you that you were over exaggerating when you cried over gaining 3 more pounds.

You were tired of the look on old, decaying couples faces when you’d be sitting at a restaurant. The clear look of judgment, disgust and hostility written all over their faces when you’d order food of your choice. You knew what they were thinking without them even having to say it. It made you feel like shit.

You stopped eating in restaurants, and in front of people in general. You order all your clothes online to save the embarrassment of having to feel the disappointment of not being able to fit into something, while prying eyes mock and belittle you till you exit.

You were tired of living the life you lived. Tired of the body you had. Tired of every little imperfection and flaw that you had.

The mirror was your worst enemy, a constant reminder. A vision flashes through the eyes that stare back at you of the life you wanted. Happy. Rich. Popular. Married, with a plethora of beautiful children who you prayed never had to go through your struggles.

You were so focused, so concerned with the hatred you held for the body you were given—that you didn’t even stop to think for even just a moment, that maybe, there was someone out there who adored every part of you.

Farleigh Start, being one of them.

From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s loved you ever since.

From afar, he watched you in Venetias shadow—seemingly the only one who’s ever seen you. From tears falling down at the party, being the saddest person in the crowded room; to watching the way you avoided mirrors in the Saltburn mansion like they were the plague. How sad you were, was a trait he could easily tell.

He knew what your troubles were, it wasn’t hard to figure out. He just wished you saw yourself through his eyes, and maybe then you’d understand just how beautiful you were.

You were funny, and so beautiful; definitely more beautiful than his bimbo of a cousin. You were smart, which he took notice of when he saw you reading a damn book rather than engaging in a valentines party back at Oxford. He seen your scores, and knew you took school seriously. A scholarship girl, through and through. But he thought it was cute.

There was never a flaw in you, and he only ever saw you for what you were; a genuine, caring and sweet person. Never did he pay mind to what everyone else so blatantly gawked at, acting as if they’d never seen a plus size person. How ignorant of them, he’d always say. How vile.

Tonight was special, a welcome to the new boy that Felix brought home from Oxford—Oliver, was his name. A peculiar boy, to Farleigh, but an easy friend to you.

You sat down on the far end of the couch, picking at the skin around your nails absentmindedly while the others around you drank wine from the bottle, singing a song you didn’t care to listen to. Every once and a while you’d look up at Venetia, just to find her giving you the thumbs up as she took one of her playthings for the night to her chambers with a dorky smile.

Farleigh watched you from across the room. Always from across the room, never close enough for you to realize he was ever even there. You complained about being in Venetias shadow, yet Farleigh basked in yours.

You wished that men would look at you. To spare you the time of day rather than just a polite smile. But Farleigh was the one who longed for you to look at him that way. He longed for you to look at him as more than just a friend, or an admirer—he wanted you to look at him as if you were lovers.

The night was still young, as were you and Farleigh. He had been planning his approach for at least a month, finally deciding to act on his need for you. So, he watched your doe eyes watch him walk towards you with a lump in his throat. Nervous.

“Farleigh.” You greeted—the warmth and familiarity of your voice filling his ears like a melodic symphony. It was slick like honey, and gentle like a dove in midnight air. “Hey.” he fumbled out after an awkward moment of silence. You smiled.

God, that fucking smile. Anything you wanted, would be yours if you promised to smile at him like that forever. It made his knees weak—weak enough for him to take his place comfortably next to you at the end of the couch.

“How are you?” He asked, staring into your eyes, waiting for a response. You hummed as you looked down at the slightly bleeding skin around your manicured nails. “I’ve been alright.” You lied, casting your eyes up to meet his.

The glint in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. He nodded in understanding, glancing down at his hands that were nervously clamped together with sweat, which he wiped on his slacks. “You look—“ he said, before he cleared his throat from imperfections, “you look beautiful, Y/N.” He smiled.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. The words you wanted to hear slipping past his lips made your walls come crumbling down. Was it finally your turn? Your turn at a chance of happiness? It couldn’t be. This must’ve been a joke. A sick prank he was playing on you with his friends probably laughing somewhere in the room.

Your brows furrowed and Farleigh saw the clear distaste on your face begin to form. “I-“ he started, but didn’t get to finish as he watched you get up and storm out of the room.

Farleigh, in a confused haze, chased after you as you paced to your room with tears in your eyes. He shouted your name from behind you, but you didn’t dare to stop and look back till you felt his hand capture your wrist gently, pulling you to stop your fast pace.

“What’s wrong? I—w-was it something I said? Or—” he rambled on desperately. Your eyes danced across his features with resentment. “You makin’ fun of me? Huh? You think I don’t know that I’m a fucking joke already? Leave me the fuck alone, Farleigh!” You yelled out through tears.

His mouth hung agape as he shook his head in a ‘no’ manner. “W-what? What are you talking about?” He asked, waiting for an answer. You sniffled, rubbing your eyes with your free hand. “You’re making fun of me, Farleigh. Why? I thought you were different.” You huffed out.

He paused for a moment, processing just exactly what you were accusing him of, before he gives you a certain look. A look that screams ‘what the fuck?’, because seriously, what the fuck are you talking about?

“I would never do that to you. Get that out of your head. I meant what I said.” He stated, his hand moving from your wrist to hold your hand firmly. “I like you.” He professed. “I’ve liked you since I met you at Oxford. I don’t know why you think so lowly of yourself—to the point where you convince yourself that you’re not worthy of love or a happy life.” He said, matter of factly.

“You deserve a happy life and more. You deserve the fucking world at your feet. The stars and the moon. You deserve the sun and the planets that orbit it. You deserve everything you want and more, so don’t you dare fucking think for a second any less, you hear me?” He said, his hands cupping your face, forcing eye contact.

That was all it took to have you sobbing in his arms, your body flush against his. “So I’ll say it again, and as many times as I have to until you finally fucking believe me.” He kissed he top of your head as he held you close, your body shaking against his. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured out.

He lead you into your room, softly shutting the door behind the both of you. He watched you curl up on the edge of your bed, rubbing at your weeping eyes. Your little sniffles broke his heart, but he was determined to change this. To change the way you saw yourself.

He stood above you, a singular hand tilting your chin up to face him. “Let me show you just how beautiful you are.” His voice barely above a whisper, in a hopeful tone. You hesitated, for only a moment, before giving in with a nod. “I need words, honey.” He said, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Please.” You whispered back. He nodded, taking off his button down shirt, revealing his toned chest and stomach. His v-line was deep, and his happy trail prominent with faint curls. He moved to take your shirt off, but you stopped him.

“I—I don’t..” you said, your eyes unable to meet his. He sighed, dropping to his knees to become eye level with you. He held your face in his hands like he did before with a small smile. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” He reassured. You let out a sigh, nodding at him as a signal that it was okay.

His large hands met the hem of your shirt, sliding it up till it was over your shoulders, and onto the floor beneath you. He laid soft kisses against the top of your breasts, nipples hidden behind a bra. His hands traveled behind you, unclamping your bra, letting it slide off of your arms, landing next to your shirt.

“Perfect.” He mumbled against you. His mouth trialed to your nipple, sucking and licking at it to his hearts content. Your perk, sensitive bud was aching in his mouth, and you released a small mewl when you felt his teeth graze over it just barely biting down. He released your nipple with a loud pop before his tongue found its way to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other.

His hand groped at the breast his mouth was lapping at previously, gently pinching and pulling at your nipples. He released the nipple his mouth was working at with a loud pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your bud.

He gazed down at you with such admiration. It sent heat throughout your body, from the blushing of your cheeks down to your neck, and then down further more as you clenched around nothing as he laid peppery kisses to your stomach.

He traced absentmindedly around your stretch marks before planting a delicate kiss on a few of them. He kissed down till he was met with your pants, unbuttoning them agonizingly slow. When he finally slid them down your legs and onto the floor, he spread your legs open.

He gawked at the way your meaty flesh were plump through his fingers as he squeezed down on your meaty thighs. He licked and sucked at every inch of skin he could get his mouth on, sufficiently leavings a series of vampire-like hickies shamelessly on your inner thighs, only for him to see.

The prominent wet patch on your panties had his cock feel like it was suffocating in its confinements. You were insufferable; a walking, living, breathing temptation. With every innocent movement, the fat of your ass jiggled. It’s all he would watch when you’d walk in front of him, or past him and he’d have to break his neck to see.

The way your breasts bounced no matter what kind of shirt you were wearing. God, he had to go rub one out like a pervert one time because you decided to prance around in a flimsy tube top, nipples poking through on display. The self restraint he had held with you was absolutely mind boggling, yet he managed.

He was doing good, too. Up until now, when he finally had you. Your face was flushed red, all the way down to your neck. Your nipples perked and hard, craving more of his undivided attention. his finger found your panties, sliding it to the side, watching as your juices all but dripped out of your needy cunt.

“Fuckkk..” he groaned out. He pressed a kiss to your swollen clit before rubbing your bud mindlessly with his thumb in a soothing manner. “Know how needy my girl is.” He muttered, licking at your entrance, slurping at the welcoming juices that flowed out.

“Farleigh..” you whimpered out. He coped at you. “I know, honey. I know. M’gonna take care of you, baby.” His tongue swirling around your most sensitive part of your body had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in a pure euphoric feeling.

Sure, you’ve rubbed one out before, but it was never anything like this. It never felt this good, or like you were on a different fucking planet. He must’ve laced his tongue with something, because there was no way someone could do what he was doing with his tongue.

Every flick sent a shiver up your spine, and had you orbiting. Every suckle at your needy little bud that wasn’t so little when he released it from his mouth made you all the more closer to the edge of your on coming orgasm. He lapped at your juices like it was the best thing he’s ever had in his life, and to him, it was.

You tasted sweet on his tongue, and a little bitter but in a delicious way. He wanted to know what you looked like when you came. Did your mouth fall open with bliss, or would it be clenched shut? Would he be able to see those eyes he loves so much, or would they be in the back of your head?

Your hand clawed at his hair, pulling when it became too much. The balls of your feet dug into his back, all of this is a painful way, yet Farleigh didn’t seem to care. He relished in knowing how good he was making you feel. Knowing only he got to see you like this made him go feral, lapping and sucking at your cunt vigorously.

“Wait—F-Farleigh, I’m— I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out, your head thrown back onto the covers on your bed. He groaned into you, sending a wave of bliss through your core, and that was what made you come so easily undone. Your orgasm crashed into you like an unsuspecting wave, but of pleasure with a hint of pain as he continued torturing you through your orgasm.

“Good girl. Did so good, baby. Y’look so fuckin’ pretty.” He praised, kissing your thigh as you came down from your world-shattering high. Little did you know, that was going to be nothing compared to the way you’re going to feel when he was done with you.

You watched as he stripped himself of his pants and boxers, freeing himself of his confinements. His cock sprang and stood proudly, slapping his stomach. You gulped at the sight of him. Hard, with prominent veins on the sides with a red, angry tip that leaked pre-cum. He was more long than girthy, around 8 inches, the biggest you’d ever seen in person.

It twitched slightly, and his heavy, slightly hairy balls hung, full of cum that you wished to milk out of him till he couldn’t give any more. You craved him, and the need to be stuffed was consuming your darkening thoughts, spreading your legs even wider as a welcoming. An initiative that Farleigh happily took.

He rubbed his length through your folds, teasingly. Each time he did so, his weeping tip bumped against your engorged, sensitive clit. “Sweet girl, you’re so wet f’me.” He pointed out, causing that familiar flush to resume on your hot cheeks. “Please fuck me, Farleigh.” You asked.

Farleigh couldn’t possibly say no to his best girl when you looked up at him like he was a godsend. When you finally looked up at him the way he longed for you to. “Anything you want, baby.” And sure enough, his cock slipped past your lower lips, invading your pussy with such recklessness.

Your walls squeezed him tightly, a warm welcome as you clamped down harder onto him when he fully bottomed out. His balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each hard thrust he delivered to your cunt, angled just the right way, hitting all the right spots that made your legs shake.

“F-farleigh! Oh-“ you moaned out, gripping the sheets below you with such force, anything to stabilize yourself from the blunt force of his cock dominating your insides.

Farleighs mind was consumed with you. The way you felt around him. The way you looked under him, hair matted to your forehead as desperate cries of pleasure slipped past your lips. He couldn’t help himself, he needed to be closer to you. If he could live in your skin, he would, because even now as you were joined together, it wasn’t enough for him.

His lips attacked yours, taking your breath away as your tongues tangled together. He tasted like his Marlboro cigarettes, mixed with the taste of you. The kiss was passionate, an exchanging of unspoken words the two of you would discuss afterwards.

Your mixed saliva was messy, to say the least. It covered the both of your chins, and a string of saliva connected your tongues still, even as he pulled away. The whole scene was erotic as he kissed down your neck, licking and biting at spots, surely a display of marks for everyone to see and wonder who left them.

But he wasn’t hiding himself, not after this, no. He’ll be at your side forever and always after this. There was no more lonely nights of longing, no more worries and ‘what if’s’, or feeling incomplete, like something was missing, when the whole time he knew that it was you.

A wave of relief danced over your features. You didn’t have to go through this alone now, and as you were on the brink of your second release for the night, the stars seemed to shine brighter through your half opened curtains. He luminescent lighting spanning over Farleighs features, making him look most ethereal above you.

His face was contorted in bliss, a show of how he felt as he forhead rested against yours. Pants slipped past his lips as his hand met the flesh of your breast, squeezing. “Need you. M’gonna cum, baby. Can I cum in you?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded. “Yes, please, Farleigh. Please cum in me.” You moaned against him.

He moaned out, his pace becoming a little more sloppy as his hips chased for a release. You felt your orgasm consume you for a second time tonight, making you tumble over yourself as your body wracked with an overwhelming sense of pleasure. His tip hit your g-spot with every thrust, and the feeling was becoming overwhelmingly good.

Tears lined your eyes, but he kissed them away with sweet nothings as he painted your walls a creamy white color, his hips finally stuttering against yours in a final show of his arousal for the night. His balls grew tight, as he filled with with a groan. Sure enough, your sweet cunt was milking him greedily.

When he finally decided to pull out, he watched the way both of your release mixed together in a beautiful display. He smiled softly down at you, your eyes connecting in a sense of a strange understanding. Both of you, outsiders, who now had each other.

His hand found yours as he planted a charming kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He hummed out, watching as you nodded, propping yourself upright.

He slid his clothes back swiftly, making his way to the restroom, wetting a cloth with warm water before making his way back to where you sat, waiting on your bed. “Let me see, honey.” He urged, ushering your legs back open, gently dapping the warm cloth on your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the remnants of the mess both of you had made.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he used the clean side of the warm cloth to gently dab your forehead, ridding it of sweat, pushing your hair out of the way. “Yes—I—thank you” you said after a moment of pondering your words.

He raised a brow. “For what?” He asked. You blushed, embarrassed under his peering gaze. Ironic, seeing as he saw and heard so much more from you just mere seconds ago. “For everything, I suppose. I-I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” You muttered, almost ashamed.

He clicked his tongue as he flicked your forehead with his finger. “You silly girl.” Was all he muttered. “Don’t worry about that now. It doesn’t matter anymore. You know now, and that’s what counts.” He smiled, a confirmation that everything indeed, was going to be okay.

His curly hair seemed more vibrant, and the glint in his eyes told you what you longed and awaited to hear the most.

“I love you.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[kumememe]

library talk at dusk (farleigh start x m! reader)

warnings: slightly edited but otherwise written in one go, spelling errors and grammar is sad, slightly ooc farleigh start, reader is male bc there is a lack of male reader love for this fandom note: hi, first work since forever... please be kind <3

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farleigh start was a simple man. when it comes to people he hates, he is often cruel, rude, and judgmental at every chance he interacts with them. he judges their poorly-coordinated clothes, their personalities that make them stick out like a bug, and he laughs at their misfortunes when he sees it happen upfront. as a cousin of the infamous felix catton, the self-proclaimed 'prince of oxford', he had a reputation to uphold. it wasn't like it was different from how he usually acted, no- it was more heightened to give its desired effect. people who were in the same major as him were often intimidated by him, and farleigh knew he had to be selective about who he wants as his friends. he couldn't let someone inferior to be part of his pack because why would he? only the worthiest would have the chance. and yet, everything changed when he met y/n l/n. that stupid brat. well, technically he wasn't a brat, but everything y/n did annoy the shit out farleigh. the way y/n was so kind, nice, and approachable, the way he carried himself so elegantly and effortlessly to the point where he got undivided attention by his peers and professors, the way he laughed and smiled at every single stupid joke his obnoxious classmates would toss at him- it was annoying. farleigh knew that the moment he saw y/n at the field, lying down on the grass as he laughed and sang along to the music his small circle of friends would play, the way his h/c hair would softly dance around in the breeze, with his irritatingly charming smile- he knew he had to hate him. and yet... at the same time, he couldn't. 

there was something different about him. farleigh knows differently when he sees it, and y/n isn't like people who wanted to be friends with him, desperately clawing at him to be let into his exclusive friend group to achieve status. no, y/n was unique. he didn't care much about status as he stayed true to himself, or at least what he wanted his own persona to be seen as through an outsider's lens. y/n was a bright young man, majoring in the same course farleigh was in, which he excelled at with him. y/n was the type to offer help to those who needed it, even as mundane as carrying books to the library. he was perfect in many ways farleigh couldn't understand, much to farleigh's dismay. he wanted to get to know him, but his reputation had to be held up. why? he felt it was an obligation, a rule to do so. with that, whenever y/n would approach him, he would give him some snarky remark.

"hey farleigh," y/n greets the tall male with a kind and unwavering smile. farleigh scoffs, crossing his arms, "hello, y/n. still sucking up to the professors, are you?" he would say sarcastically, trying to invoke some sort of negative reaction from the male but... it never works. y/n would  do what he always does- chuckle, shrug, and reply with some light joke. "i mean if it works, it works." y/n replied as he walked away, going to his group of friends who were waiting for him at the end of the hall. farleigh turns his head to see y/n being greeted by his peers, rolling his eyes at the way y/n brushed off his rude remarks. farleigh was a little annoyed. how can someone be so nonchalant, carefree, and just confident when it comes to this? was farleigh jealous? yes, but he would never admit it. if he was held at gunpoint, he wouldn't even budge. to say he was jealous of how y/n's natural uncaring yet kind behavior was an understatement.

but here farleigh was, in the crux of dusk, sitting in the library as with the very male he had a confusing opinion on. y/n and farleigh were paired on some project their professor had assigned. books, notebooks, pieces of yellow pad were scattered on the table, along with pens and laptops opened on the side. y/n tapped away on his laptop as he chewed on his lip, trying to think of how to write a certain paragraph more cohesively. farleigh was doing the same, but he was more interested to see what y/n was doing. he leans over slightly, taking a peak at y/n's work. "hm," he hums. y/n looks over his shoulder to give farleigh a curious look, before turning back to his paper. "do you think this argument is valid, farleigh?" y/n asks, highlighting the paragraph he just wrote down.

"i think it would be better if you gave one more supporting evidence." farleigh says, pointing at the end of the paragraph. "you need three solid evidences, and you have two so far. otherwise, i think it's good." farleigh says in an aloof tone, before going back to his own work. y/n sighs and stretches a bit, feeling his body become sore from how he had been slumped over for the past few hours. "i think it's time we take a break." he says quietly, saving his work on the file as he closes his laptop. he turns to farleigh, who was deeply focused on his work as he types quietly. the tall male's brows furrowed as he stared at the screen. y/n leans his head on his arm, which was propped up on the table. he opens his mouth to ask something, but hesitates slightly. with a shaky voice, he says, "you should take a break too." he says quietly, catching farleigh's attention as the brown-skinned male stops typing.

"y/n, this is due at midnight. we have no time to take a break." farleigh says sternly, running a hand through his hair as y/n shakes his head. "we've been working on this for... 4 hours straight. we're lucky that the librarian let us eat here while we worked." y/n expresses with a slight tired tone, "just five minutes, i swear." y/n promises.

farleigh reluctantly nods, sighing as he saves his work and turns his laptop off. "five minutes." he repeats, slumping into his chair as he closes his eyes for a bit. an awkward silence consumes the air between the two, before y/n spoke. "so..." he trails off, not knowing what to say as farleigh turns his head towards the latter, eyebrow raised expectantly. y/n clears his throat, "you know, i've always felt this vibe coming from you... the vibe that says that you don't like me." y/n says quietly, which surprises farleigh slightly. this was unexpected, he didn't think y/n would bring his passive-aggressiveness up as the conversation opener. it was understandable however, since the tension between them may grow if left unopened like a can of sardines. farleigh shifts in his chair slightly, "didn't think you'd finally notice." farleigh says in an unintentionally snarky tone. y/n frowns slightly, "it's kind of hard to ignore, to be honest... our banter always seems so playful from the outside but sometimes i just wonder if you do hate me." y/n looks down at his lap, before looking at the table in front of him.

this makes farleigh's heartstrings feel like they are being tugged at, as he didn't know that he had given a negative impression to the latter. farleigh stays silent for a bit, not knowing how to respond. he didn't know if his teasing was more or less just that. sure, he hated the way y/n was pure, and had no ill intentions in any of his actions with everyone he talks with- he was admirable, at best. maybe farleigh projected his insecurities too much on y/n, and he knew he was at fault. and yet... he swallowed the lump in his throat, having trouble forming the right words. once farleigh did, he made sure to explain his side carefully.

"i don't hate you." farleigh admits quietly as he crosses his arms, looking at y/n with a sincere gaze. this makes y/n's eyes widen slightly at the sincerity, eyes locking with farleigh. the tall brown male continues, "i guess my banter has left more than desired..." he says, looking away. farleigh takes a deep breath, "i let my insecurities get the best of me, and i let them out on you. I'm sorry."

y/n's gaze softened at the admission, the first time he didn't see the usual snark and judgemental attitude that the tall male would hide behind. y/n licks his dry lips, giving farleigh a warm smile. "d-don't worry, i don't hold it against you." he says softly, making farleigh roll his eyes. "see? this is what i mean, y/n."

"you're always so nice to everyone, so pure- you never seem to make any enemies. you're so free to do what you want and yet i'm here just..." farleigh huffs frustratedly. the confession hangs heavy in the air, with y/n sitting up properly. he adjusts his seat so he can place a careful hand on farleigh's shoulder. giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "farleigh," y/n starts gently, his voice filled with understanding. "thank you for your honesty, i appreciate it."

"but that doesn't mean you should compare yourself to me, or anyone else for that matter." y/n comforts, "we all have our ways of living life, our ow struggles... believe me. before i got to where i am now, i've been through my fair share of challenges."

farleigh looks at y/n, seeing the empathy in his eyes. he swallows the lump of saliva in his throat, as he listens to the h/c-haired male. "in my eyes, you have so much more to you than what meets the eye. you have so much potential for good, and you deserve to do what you want without being held back, okay?" he says tenderly. if y/n wasn't so damn kind, farleigh would have shrugged this off. but something in his gut knew that the former was right. "i apolgize if i'm being too serious, it's just... maybe it's time to let yourself relax and open up. well- technically you already did the last part but... you're capable of many great things."

farleigh chuckles at y/n's rambled advice, his tense shoulders relaxing. he has to admit it, he's starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, he liked y/n more than he hated him. "...thank you, l/n." he says with a heartfelt tone in his voice, such softness that makes y/n smile. y/n nods, "no worries, start." y/n releases the grip he had on farleigh's shoulder, much to farleigh's dismay. he lays both of his arms on the table, using them as a cushion for his head. "farleigh, you know since we are being candid here, i've always found you admirable."

farleigh's eyes flickered open just a touch wider, "really?"

y/n nods, "yeah. you're honest, not afraid of saying your own opinions... you have a confident aura that people like me wish for. confident, as in, you can just talk to anyone you would like with no struggle. not only that, but you are also arrogant. arrogant in a way that it is actually deserving since you are top of your class, smart, and..." y/n lists down, each sentence leaving him turning quieter as farleigh's grin widens every time. farleigh lets out a snicker, and y/n smiles. "what?" the latter asked, as farleigh shook his head. "it's cute that you admire me." he says with a hint of sarcasm, which makes y/n roll his eyes.

"oh, bug off, don't make me take it back." y/n threatens lightly.

farleigh takes a deep yet content sigh, already feeling the atmosphere lighten up as the two chuckled. with this cheesy opening up between the two, he knew that this shift will change their dynamic. and for once in his life, he can see y/n being a positive force in it. as he takes a look at the time on the wall clock, he turns to y/n with a small smile.

"whatever. come on, we have work to do."

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

thanks for reading my bad work, lol, it has been a few years since i have written for any fandom, and i really appreciate anyone who reads this. if you have any suggestions, feel free to send them in. thank you :>>

[coldblooded-angel]

Saltburn Potter AU (but fuck JK for ruining this for us)

Oliver (muggle born) is the newest student at Hogwarts. A transferee from Erehnoll (school of magic located in northwestern Ireland)

Previously: House of Spaniel (yellow, brown, beige) known for powerful, stealthy, and rebellious wizards

Currently: Slytherin House

A little sad he’s no longer wearing his prev house colors until he meets Felix, a hufflepuff who wears his yellows proudly like the sun.

Felix (pureblood) comes from a long line of hufflepuffs (Sir James) and slytherins (Elspeth).

Hufflepuffs are known underground partiers. They have access to dealers that sneak contraband into the school. Extremely popular and very friendly, everyone wants in on their secret common room parties.

Venetia and Farleigh are slytherins.

Farleigh is half-Veela and never wears his house colors cuz he says they clash w his closet and hangs out in every common room so much that no one really knows which house he is

Felix reaches out to Oliver because he feels bad that he keeps getting bullied (he’s guilty that he can’t stop Farleigh) ((Oliver is very good at looking very pitiful))

They become close enough that Oliver confesses that his family was killed in a werewolf attack (lie) and he was raised in an orphanage until he could go to school (lie)

Truth: Oliver was attacked in his first year by a werewolf and lived. Now he hides away every full moon so no one knows what he is. His family is very much alive but not in communication in with him (he cut them off)

Oliver tries to win over Venetia and Farleigh by impressing them with his own magic (more powerful for their year) and his ability to get them drunk using potions (so they never get caught by the teachers w alcohol)

Felix starts getting demanding over Oliver’s time, starts asking where he goes thatvhe won’t say, starts believing Farleigh when he says Oliver was doing shit behind his back

Felix follows Oliver one night, doubting his excuse of late night studying until he finds himself in a secluded part of the school that no student is allowed to go. And it’s the full moon.

Definitely gonna add this to the GROWING pile of AUs. I’d love to hear your thoughts !! Thank you @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber for feeding me worms 🪱🪱

My inbox/dms are always open for anyone who wants to share the brainrot with me !!!

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (17)

I am so incredibly glad that Elspeth put my seat next to Venetia, otherwise I would be completely lost at this dinner. The people I know are vastly outnumbered by the people I don’t, and I feel for Felix, who looks so bored stranded between two men (who I can assume are both named Henry). 

“And what’s your name?” The man to my right is already red in the face, and we’re only on the second course of the meal. 

“Evelyn.” I say, shifting slightly in my seat to face him. 

“Henry.” He says, extending his hand to shake. His palms are sweaty, and I try not to cringe at the way he leaves a film on my hand. 

“I figured.” I say, wiping my palm on the skirt of my dress. 

He laughs, even though I didn’t really mean it to be all that funny - but drunk people make the best crowd. “I’ve not seen you about before.” He says. “Or maybe I have -” He chuckles. “Parties here do tend to get rather crowded.”

“This is my first time.” I say. “Venetia brought me home for the summer.”

His eyebrows quirk up. “How are you liking it?”

“It’s great.” I say, turning to my plate to spoon a bite of dinner into my mouth. “The house is beautiful.”

“Oh, yes.” He says. “I remember the first time I saw this house - of course, I was very young, then - but I still remember that grandeur feeling. And the people - James’s mother and father were such lovely people.”

“I’m sure.” I say, trading my spoon for my wine glass. It’s white wine tonight, and it goes down easier than the red. 

He stops himself to drain his own wineglass. “Really such lovely people, the Cattons.”

“Mm.” My eyes drift along the table until they reach the end, where Elspeth and Farleigh are sat around a corner. Even though Elspeth is talking to him, Farleigh’s eyes are on me as he takes a long draught from his glass. He tilts his head as he sets his cup down, and smirks. 

“Truly, it’s a sort of fantasy, being here…”

Mostly prattling to himself at this point, I turn away from Henry and back towards Venetia. Her back is to me though, talking to Oliver. 

“No thanks.” Venetia says, sighing. “It’s just so disappointing. You're just another one of his toys.”

“You're upset.” Oliver doesn’t sound sympathetic at all.

“No! Don't worry! I'm used to it, honestly.” She says it so flippantly my heart breaks a little.  “He never liked sharing his toys. Even the ones he doesn’t want to play with anymore.” She turns away from him, to face me with a sad sort of smile. 

“Venetia…” Oliver hisses. “Venetia…”

She pays him no mind. “Hi Evie.”

I smile. “Hi baby.”

She drops her voice, and picks up her wineglass. “He’s such a bore, my god.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder towards Oliver. “As soon as Felix says no, that’s it. Done.” She glances across the table. “Felix hasn’t spoken to me since yesterday morning.”

“He’ll come around.” I say. “You’re his sister.”

“I know.” She sighs. “Still - there goes my summer entertainment.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t believe for a second that she’s going to stop batting her eyelashes at him. She’ll take a break, sure, but she couldn’t even come up with a word to describe the way he gave her head - she’s going to at least try again. 

“What about you?” She says. “What about last night?”

“What about last night?” I say. 

“Farleigh was on your bed.”

“To gossip.” I say. 

“To gossip,” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Without me? Alone, in your room, when you’d just gotten out of the shower? Gossip.” 

“Yes, gossip.” I say. “You know about his weird hate-boner for Oliver.”

“I know about his boner-boner for you.” Venetia says. Her eyes skip away from mine, past me, to where Farleigh is sitting. 

“We almost kissed.” I say, hushed. “I think. I don’t know.”

She bites her lip as she grins. “Go on.” Sure, Oliver might be too scared to keep their summer romance going, but that doesn’t mean she can’t doubly invest herself in mine to keep herself entertained. 

“We almost kissed that night on the roof, too, I think.” I say. “I don’t know, he’s not… most guys would just do it, you know? He keeps just waiting.” 

“And you haven’t kissed him because?” She asks.

“I’m kind of enjoying the tension.” I admit, a little sheepishly. 

“Me too.” She says, grinning. “It’s like my own soap opera happening in my house, starring people that I already know and love. I’m so glad that I brought you home, Evie, really.”

“So glad that I could make your summer more interesting.” I say, truthfully. 

“You’ll have to tell me if he’s a good kisser, when you do end up snogging.” She says. “I’ve always wanted to know who’s the best kisser out of the three of us - everyone says Felix is quite bad, and I think I’m alright, but I don’t know anyone that’s kissed Farleigh to check.”

“If we end up snogging.” I say, mocking her accent. 

“Oh, shove off, New Yawk.” She grins. “And if you don’t at least kiss him, I’ll be furious.”

“Well, if you’ll be furious.” I say, taking another draught of my wine. 

“Please,” She snorts. “I know you want to.”

“But-”

“And I already know what you’re going to say, ‘what if we kiss and then it’s boring’ - it’s Farleigh. You can say many things about Farleigh, but you can’t say he’s boring.” She gives me a pointed look. 

I grin. “You know me so well.”

She smiles back at me. “I do, don’t I?”

I glance back to the end of the table where Farleigh sits. He’s leaned over towards Elspeth, saying something that I can’t make out, but like he can sense my gaze shifting, his eyes meet mine, and he smiles. I return his grin, and take another sip of wine, licking the excess off my lips. 

&lt; previous part | next part >

[ricciardosgirl]

my love and a whore.

felix catton x reader

one shot.

it's around midnight , i'd been staying in felix's dorm for the majority of the day. i missed him. i lay on his chest , his sweet hazel eyes stare down at me with what i assumed was love.

his hands in my hair , my hands wrapped around his tatted torso. everything was just right. most nights ended like this when we were together , just the two of us. either in my bed or his we always spent the night together.

until one day , he didn't show. i nervously sat on the edge of my bed , absolutely exhausted by the school day but i knew i wanted to wait for him. it felt like this sort of . . dependency. i needed him so i could sleep.

my feet dangled for a moment , i could feel a shiver run up my spine. i thought the worst. i gathered up my cardigan and wrapped it around my frame — carefully opening my door and heading to felix's dorm room.

i stood outside for a moment , desperately debating if i should even enter. i was sure he was just asleep or something — but i had to make sure he was okay.

with a sigh , i entered , unlocked surprisingly. i gave a smile before i even noticed the sight in front of me. the man i loved — with some random girl. she was on top of him , riding him off towards the sunset. i stood in shock , eyes beginning to water as they didn't even notice me.

i just . . left. i don't even believe they heard me enter or leave. i placed a hand over my mouth , holding back a sob. the man i loved and some whore. what did i do to deserve this.

i started walking back towards my dorm , trying my hardest to contain my sobs. i heard a slight creek , someone's door opened. i most likely waked them with my undeniable sadness.

i looked over , and there stood felix's cousin farleigh. he leaned against his door frame - almost like he knew that this would happen. i stopped in my tracks.

" need a drink ? " he offered , i stopped and thought about it. finally , i chuckled , wiping the tears from my eyes.

" please. "

he just stood in silence , opening up his door wide for me to enter , i entered. and i didn't not regret a damn thing.