#oliver x fem!reader

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Dom!Oliver Queen x Sub!Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1534

Warnings: SMUT

Y/N: Your Name 

Summary: You came without permission and now you have to deal with your punishment

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My eyes fluttered open as the fog of sleep slowly started leaving me. I could tell from the light streaming through the window that it was morning. I turned to roll over, but something prevented me from doing so. There were bounds on my wrists and ankles, holding me in a spread eagle position. I pulled against them, I could move a little bit, but just barely. Oliver was nowhere to be seen as I struggled. I wondered why I was tied to his bed, but then I remembered. I had been a very bad girl.

I waited for what felt like forever, the tension building. The ideas of what Oliver could do to me were racing through my mind. I wasn’t allowed to cum without Oliver’s permission and I blatantly disobeyed him. The door finally opened and he walked in, holding a black silk blindfold. He smirked and sat on the bed next to me. I gulped and looked up at him nervously. 

“ I see you’re finally awake, pet. Do you know why you’re tied up?” He asked. 

“I think so, Sir…” I answered and he raised a brow. 

“You think? I’m pretty sure you know. Why don’t you tell me the reason you’re all tied up, pet?” He said. 

“Because I disobeyed you, Sir.” I said. 

“How did you disobey?” He asked. 

“I came without permission, Sir.” I answered. 

“You did, slut, and now you’re going to get what’s coming to you.” He said as he placed the blindfold over my eyes. My heart started to race and I strained against the bounds. I felt him get off the bed, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing. 

Suddenly, I heard the whoosh and felt an impact on my breast. I tested and gasped in shock. A flogger. I felt him lightly drag the strings across my body. They danced across my face, down my neck, circling my tits, and finally down to my pussy. The strands slowly dragged down my pussy, causing me to shiver. Then I feel his fingers stroke my cunt. 

“Wet already? You naughty girl, only dirty sluts get excited from punishments.” He said. His fingers slid inside my pussy and I moaned, trying to push against him to get more inside me. He took his fingers away and then crack! The flogger snapped against my pussy. I cried out, trying to move away, but I couldn’t. I felt his breath fan against my ear. 

“Greedy little slut, trying to get fuck, hmm? Well, this isn’t for your pleasure, this is a punishment. This is what you deserve for disobeying.” He growled. I whimpered and gripped the bounds, desperate to cling to something. 

Crack! Crack! Crack! Three quick swats snapped against my tits, stomach, and pussy. I moaned, feeling the pain and adrenalin course through my body. The blows kept coming and I cried out each time, especially when I felt the flog slap against my nipples. Even though it hurt, I felt so safe. I knew I was getting what I deserved and I loved it. My body felt like it was on fire. My breasts must be glowing red judging by how many times he’s struck them. My nipples are beyond sensitive from the abuse and I all but scream when it comes down on them once again. 

I felt his hands rub my tits, rolling my nipples between his fingertips. I bucked my hips and cried out, the sensation was like a lightning bold driving down to my clit. I heard him chuckle. 

“Sensitive, slut?” He asked. 

“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” I answered. 

“Then you’re gonna love this.” He said before I felt a familiar pressure on both sides of my nipples. The clamps. My nipples were already so sensitive, I don’t think I can handle the clamps. 

“Sir, I can’t…” I whimpered. 

“Can’t what, pet? Use your words.” He said. 

“I can’t take the clamps, Sir, please no…” I begged. A sharp slap was felt against my tits, making me squeal. 

“You can take them. Your body is mine to do with as I please, slut, don’t forget that.” He said. The clamp tightened on one of my nipples. I rolled my body to try and escape the next one, but that just earned me another slap on my breasts. The pain mixed with pleasure coursed through my body as the second clamp was tightened. He pulled the chain that connected the clamps, causing me to moan in protest. 

“There. You look good enough to eat right now, pet. All hot and wet for me, and your skin is such a pretty shade of red.” He whispered in my ear. I smiled, comforted by his voice. 

I heard the flick of a lighter and furrowed my brow. What was he using a lighter for? Then I felt it. A drop of something fell onto my stomach and the stinging heat radiates out from my already reddened skin. Hot wax. Before I could even process it, more drops of wax fell onto my skin. It’s nothing I can’t handle, but it still hurts. Some drop more than others. I can feel the heat of the flame at times, and that’s when the hottest drops fall. The pain makes me squirm. I tried to push into the bed, he just moved the flame closer. He tugged on the chain connecting the clamps and immediately after a heated drop of wax fell between my breasts. My body tenses. 

“Oh god, please, Sir, not my tits! Please don’t, it hurts so much…” I begged. 

“Not your tits, hmm?” He hummed. 

“Yes, Sir, please…” I begged again. He jerked the chair again and even more drops of wax fell between my breasts. I cried out in both pain and shock. 

“I don’t think you’re understanding what’s going on here. You don’t get to make requests.” He said as I felt the drops of wax spiral around one of my breasts, circling towards my nipple. A whine escaped my lips as my body twisted and turned in anticipation. I felt the head close to my nipple and cried out, tensing my body pre-emptively, but it moved away. I feel the same wax pattern drip onto my other breast and the head close to my nipple once again. 

“Are you ready, little one?” He asked in my ear, his tone gentle. I knew he was checking in, making sure I didn’t want to safeword. As much as I didn’t want to feel what was coming I knew I deserved it for disobeying him. Slowly I nodded my head. 

“Yes Sir…” I answered breathily. The words barely escaped my mouth before I felt the drop of heated wax fall onto one of my nipples. I screamed with pain. The combination of the clamps and heated wax was too much, but I wanted to be good for him. I had to take it. My body heaved with each breath and he stroked the side of my face, lovingly. 

“One more.” He said. I tensed again, but he brushed his fingers through my hair until I relaxed a little. Then the drop fell onto my other nipple. I screamed out again, twisting my body in pain. I heard him blow out the candle and lie next to me. He gently kissed my lips. 

“Good girl. That was a lot, wasn’t it?” He asked. 

“Yes Sir, but I deserved it…” I answered. 

“Yes, you did, pet. But there’s still one last thing.” He said. My eyes widened under the blindfold. His hand moved to the chain, making the clamps move slightly. I cried out again, my nipples were incredibly sensitive. The chain lifted and I felt a tug. 

“Prepare yourself, pet.” He said. 

“For wha- OH FUCK! SIRRR!” I screamed as he tugged on the chain so hard that the clamps were pulled away from my nipples. I felt all the blood rush back into them, creating a throbbing sensation. I let out a wail as I thrashed against the pain. My tears were wetting the silk, but eventually, the pain subsided to a gentle throb. A wet washcloth slid across my skin, rubbing away the hardened wax. He was extremely careful around my nipples, but the shock still coursed through my body when I felt the rough towel against them. The bounds were removed from the wrists and ankles and then the blindfold was lifted. The first thing I saw when my eyes adjusted were his gorgeous blue-green eyes. 

“Hey there, pet.” He smiled and I smiled back. 

“Hi, Sir.” I replied shyly. He pushed some hair from my face. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, caressing my cheek. 

“Better Sir, thank you.” I answered. 

“Are you sorry for disobeying me?” He asked. 

“Yes Sir. I won’t do it again.” I answered with a small smirk and he chuckled. 

“Oh, I think you’ll do it again. You are a very bad girl after all.” He said and I couldn’t help but smile. 

“Maybe…” I said as he gathered me in his arms. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He said. 

“I love you too, Oliver.” I said, knowing our playtime was over for now.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @lovelywordsblog @slytherinlyn13 @liz-owl

[rinhaler]

So Tell Me What You Need

oliver aiku really really likes you ♡

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ yandere!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (++ smut) Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for doing gods work with this fic i hated it hehehe Warnings: 18+, serial killer mention, murder mention, weed mention, smoking, stalking ♡, manipulation, dub/noncon, 'just the tip' ♡, coercion, oral (m receiving), cock slapping ♡, facial, creampie ♡, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, etc.) ♡ Words: 7.2k

The body of a young woman was discovered in the early hours of Thursday morning. It’s the third body in the last five months to be found, and an inside source has revealed that this is thought to be a pattern by one killer. The victims are all female and—

Your heart pounds as you shut off the TV in your front room. It’s the last thing you want to hear as the windows reveal the dark night sky outside. You don’t even see the stars above; the light pollution takes that comfort from you. All you can see is rows of apartments opposite to your own, some lit and some dim. Some with funky colours but most are warm white.

And your face flushes with heat as you notice one of the latter have a couple fucking up against a window before you turn away to face your roommate.

She notes your concern, but chooses to smirk and poke fun anyway.

“Maybe it’s your stalker,” she teases you. “You might be next.”

“That’s not funny.” you sigh, storming off to your room. You wince as you look at the abandoned study materials at your desk. You’ve been putting everything off for weeks, but your coursework and exams are the last thing on your mind.

You find yourself pacing around a little before you eventually decide to sit on the edge of your bed. There’s no way you can possibly sleep after hearing that. And your roommate’s poor joke has only made you more paranoid. So, what is there left to do?

Music might help, you think to yourself as you unlock your phone. You can barely do anything as your fingers begin to tremor while you look through your playlists. You’re interrupted, though, as a call from an unknown number fills your screen.

You mask your fear with anger, grunting as you swing open your bedroom door to yell at your friend.

“Stop it, Lacey! I’m going to have nightmares, I’m serious!” you yell. She looks at you, confused. You hold up your phone to show her the incoming call. But her eyes drop to the coffee table, her own phone discarded on top of it in favour of smoking from her bong.

“Answer it.” she urges you.

And you gulp, nodding, sliding the button across the bottom of the touch screen to take the call. You steel yourself, already knowing what’s coming as soon as you speak. It’s the same thing every single time. You don’t say a word, not for a few seconds. There isn’t a sound from either of you as you sit on the couch while your roommate’s eyes follow you.

“Hello?” you say, meekly.

It begins.

The heavy, repetitive breathing that sends a chill down your spine. She looks concerned, now. It’s the first time she’s been present when you’ve received a call. You’d started to suspect she didn’t believe you.

“Who the fuck is this?” she yells, snatching the phone from your hand. Their breathing stutters, it’s barely noticeable but you both pick up on it. It’s enough to make her hang up. “I— you should stay in my room tonight. W-With me.”

“Are you scared?” you ask her, earnestly. She doesn’t respond, but the fact that she’s packing away her drug paraphernalia is answer enough. “Thank you.” you smile, though you leave the room as you do.

You start scrolling through your contacts on instinct, tossing your phone onto your bed as you find the number you’re searching for and put it on loudspeaker as it dials. It rings and rings, and you start to worry you won’t get through. You undress, taking off your clothes from the day to change into your pyjamas.

“Hey you,” he starts. “S’pretty late, baby. Somethin’ wrong?”

“Oliver…” you start, legs buckling at the sound of his voice as you feel a combination of relief and guilt surge through you. You sniff, the pressure of your fear and other underlying emotions doing their best to overwhelm you. “My— The stalker called. Again.” you tell him, and you’re instantly met with a sympathetic coo.

“Do you want me to come over?” he asks. “Or do you wanna come here? I’ll pick you up, princess, s’not a problem.” he continues. You shake your head despite him not being able to see.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Sorry, I was just freaking out. Nice to hear your voice, though…” you smile a little, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Alright. Only if you’re sure.” he speaks, clearing his throat. “I miss you, though. You better let me see that pretty face of yours soon.”

“Okay,” your smile widens. Once again nodding knowing he can’t actually see you right now. “Goodnight Oli.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

Sharing a bed with your roommate helped. You didn’t even mind her snoring, it’s not like you’d expected to get much sleep anyway. You got enough to get you through the day, though. Classes went by without incident, and you didn’t feel yourself wavering at lunchtime like you have been recently.

The calls are unpredictable, you’re always on edge. There’s no specific times or days or even how many times he’ll call.

You walk back to your apartment alone. The winter sucks. It’s not particularly cold, but it’s dark when you get to your classes and then it’s dark again when you leave for the day. You feel like you’re going crazy, and you can’t pretend you aren’t scared of being outside alone when it’s so dark out.

A text notification frightens you enough to almost drop your phone. You don’t even remember turning your phone off silent. Though you can’t help but grin when you see who it’s from.

Oli: Wanna hang out tonight?

You: I’m too behind on my coursework ☹

You: Another time? x

Oli: Okay princess x

You take a deep breath, pocketing your phone as you continue your journey to your apartment. The elevator isn’t empty, but you don’t mind. If anything, you feel a little better to be around people. Your music plays softly through your earphones the whole time, and your anxiety finally begins to dissipate.

Although, it comes flooding back when you get to the door of your apartment.

It’s locked.

And, normally, that would be fine. But Lacey always finishes early on Monday’s. And she’s always home before you get here. Your mind instantly flickers to the phone calls. The stalker.

The news report last night.

Little hands tremble as you search pathetically through your tote bag until you find your keys. The metal clings and clangs as you search for the right one; you jump as they fall from your hands. Eventually, though, the right one is in your grasp and you open the door quickly.

There’s no sign of her. She isn’t smoking in the front room like you expect. You open her bedroom door without knocking, only to discover she isn’t there either. Deep breaths are taken in vain. You try to call her, but there’s no answer.

You: Are you okay?? Call me ASAP

Lacey: I’m fine! I’m at the frat hanging out with Eita 😇

“Oh thank God.” you sigh, all but falling to your knees when you read her reply. Instantly, you can’t help but think about what a slut she is when you think about her failing to tell you her plans because she’s decided to sneak off to ‘hang out’ with her toxic friend with benefits.

Your mind is clear, though your heart is still beating a mile a minute.

Oli: You’re really just gonna study all night? X

You: Thinking about ordering a pizza :P x

Oli: I like pizza you know 🙄x

You: Next time! Promise x

It’s crazy. It’s embarrassing, actually, how quickly he can put you at ease. You’ve only known him for a few months, but it feels like you’ve known him forever. You sigh, dreamily, as you recall how he had introduced himself to you and Lacey during welcome week. He had to squeeze in the fact he was the president of the most popular frat on campus.

Even then, he made you blush. Though you couldn’t act on it; you’d had a boyfriend at the time. But you’ve been single for almost as long as you’ve known Oli, since you dumped him a week or two after; when you realised you didn’t love him anymore. And, still, nothing has happened between you and Oliver.

You’re scared, truthfully.

You’re scared because you know he’s experienced and he’s confident. You know girls throw themselves at him and he knows he’s popular. You’re not a virgin, but compared to him you may as well be.

After clearing your throat and shaking your head to dismiss your train of thought, you start looking for food to add to your basket from your favourite pizza place. It’s so hard to choose, as much as you’d love to get everything, you’re basically broke.

Incoming call.

“Please, no.” your voice breaks as you speak out loud.

You shouldn’t answer. The number is private and you already know what’s going to happen. But you’ve tried that before. You’ve tried ignoring them, but they just keep calling until you answer.

You’re frozen, paralysed with fear as you contemplate what to do. Lacey isn’t here to support you this time. She won’t be coming back, either. So, do you really want to answer? Do you really want to deal with how many calls you’ll receive if you don’t?

The burden of dealing with this alone is too much to bear.

But you’ve been left with no other choice.

“H-Hello?” you whimper, eager to get it over with. The breathing starts, and you’re surprised that this time it’s enough to make you cry. And it’s not just a few tears falling. Whoever is on the other end of the call will undoubtedly know what you’ve been reduced to. “Please stop doing this. W-What do you want from me?” you cry.

It's useless, though, the breathing just continues.

“I can’t t-take it anymore, please, p-please…”

“Mmmmpf,” you hear, it’s cracked and strained and it makes you feel sick. You aren’t sure if you’re imagining things, or if this sicko is actually getting off to the sound of your anguish and desperate pleas. “Thank you.” they say, the voice is deep and distorted but it’s clear as day.

Your breath is trapped in your lungs. And for the first time, they hang up.

You just can’t anymore.

Can’t breathe.

Can’t function.

Can’t think.

You can think enough to call Oli, though. Tremoring digits manage to navigate away from the takeout website to bring up your text thread with Oliver once more. And you don’t hesitate to press the call button.

Your eyes are soaked, vision blurry like a smudged camera lens as you look around your barren apartment while you wait for him to pick up.

“Hi gorgeous,” he answers, a seductive lilt in his tone. If you weren’t so worked up, you’d be flustered. You can picture the smirk on his face as he talks, though you aren’t really listening. “What’s up, baby? Calling to brag about that pizza?”

“O-li.” you sniff, voice cracking after each vowel. He’s silent, but you hear him move. Like he’s sitting upright suddenly, ready to spring into action to rescue you. “He c-called. Again, Oli… again—”

“Shit.” he sighs. “Do you want me to—”

“Please… come get me. ‘m so scared, don’t wanna be here a-alone.” you whine.

“I’m on my way.” he tells you. “I won’t be long, baby. I promise. See ya soon, princess.” he finishes, cutting off the line as he rushes to his car.

Your body stiffens as the silence of your apartment hits you once more. You can’t waste time, though. So, you pack. You’re quick about it, too. You fill your biggest bag with toiletries, a change of clothes and sleepwear… and your coursework.

There’s no way you’ll be doing any work tonight, but you can at least pretend you’re functioning like normal. You can’t let this creep dictate your entire life, right? Maybe being with Oliver will actually keep you calm enough to actually get some of your work started.

Oli: I’m outside x

The black night sky makes your heart race as you walk out of your apartment. The winter cold is harsher in the bleak evenings. Your thin sweater isn’t enough to protect you from the air nipping at your skin.

It’s the least of your worries; all you can think about is the fact this stalker of yours could be watching you right now. It could be anyone. Someone from your class, someone you shared the elevator with, your next-door neighbour. The very thought makes your steps quicken. You’re hurrying to the elevator and bashing the button until it arrives. It’s the first time you’ve felt safe since you left your apartment, because you’re alone. But even then, your skin breaks into goosebumps as you look up at the CCTV camera in the corner.

You’ll never feel safe, not really.

You rush down the road when you see Oliver’s car in the distance. He honks, and it’s all you need to run to him. You’re running like an athlete, and it feels more humiliating than it should. You’re sure Oliver understands why you’re frightened; and you’re sure he won’t judge you for sprinting to the car. But, still, it feels pathetic.

You open the door roughly before you practically dive into the passenger seat. He moves out of the way a little as you throw your overnight bag into the back seat.

“Hey, you’re alright now. Yeah? I’ve got you.” he speaks softly, doing what he can to relax you. You almost melt into his touch as he tucks a hair behind your ear. You do, a little, your body almost melds to the plush leather seat. Your head falls backwards onto the head rest, and your lip begins to wobble. “Poor thing…” he sighs.

“D-Drive, please…” you say, voice weak and strained.

He nods, driving off towards the frat house.

“I wouldn’t worry, you know.” he tells you, putting his hand on your thigh as he drives slow and carefully. You don’t object to his advances, in fact, it’s a comfort to feel his warm hand on your bitter flesh. Even his rough thumb stroking your skin is a welcome feeling. “It’s probably your ex, princess.”

“You think so?” you wonder. “I don’t know… he didn’t take the breakup well, but—”

“You never know what people will resort to when they’re heartbroken, baby.” he tells you, uneven eyes focus on you even as he drives. It makes you nervous, but his calm demeanour forces you to ignore it. You trust him, wholly. “Plus, he knows he lost the best thing that’ll happen to him in his pathetic life.”

“… Oli.” you smile, looking down at your knees as you try to avoid his cocksure stare.

He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the journey.

You come face to face with Lacey as you walk through the grandiose double doors. You feel like a guest of honour as you enter the castle that Oliver Aiku reigns over. Everyone is filled with warm smiles and happy faces as you see them. But your expression in return is feeble. You try to smile, but you’re so downtrodden, and Lacey immediately knows why.

She doesn’t even care that you don’t say hello when you run by her on the stairs and hurry to Oliver’s room. Oliver remains at the bottom while he watches you flee.

“She got another call.” he informs your roommate.

“Fuck.” she hisses through her teeth as she looks back up the stairs. Her voice is filled with remorse as she thinks things through. “I shouldn’t have left her alone; I knew she was—”

“S’alright, Lace,” Oliver smiles, his pristine pearly whites instantly put her at ease. “You can’t be with her every second, don’t blame yourself.” his eyes are so warm and full of love, she sees it every time he talks about you. He’s good for you, she thinks. He’s so sweet about you and he’s crazy about you.

“Give her our best.” Eita tells him, putting a hand on Lacey’s shoulder as they descend the stairs. “We’re going to smoke in the garden.”

“Enjoy yourselves, kids.” Oliver smirks, winking at them before chasing after you.

He sees you making yourself comfortable in his room. You’re already undressed, and you don’t care that he can see you. He doesn’t dare look away, either. But you don’t mind. He watches as you put on the mismatched pyjamas you threw into your bag, and he sits beside you on the bed after you collapse backwards onto the mattress.

“I’m gonna change my number,” you whisper. “I should have done that in the first place…”

“Good idea.” he agrees. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his hand rest atop your head, his thumb delicately stroking your forehead again and again. He swears he sees you fall asleep for a second before you scare yourself awake with a too heavy breath. “Should we get you that pizza?”

You nod, lightly.

“I’d like that.”

He’s the perfect gentleman. You’re lucky to know Oli, you think. That’s how you feel anyway, as he watches you in silence while simultaneously encouraging your efforts in getting your schoolwork done.

He was kind, and he was helpful. Telling you that you could take a break or stop all together for the evening when your food arrived. And so, you spent a good while making notes and studying textbooks.

“Atta girl.” he winks at you, teasingly, when you begin to scribble down words onto pages. “I’m proud of you, baby, don’t let that idiot get under your skin.”

“Thanks Oli, I—” you’re cut off by the sound of your phone vibrating. You look over your shoulder and back to the desk you’ve been sitting at for the last 35 minutes. “O-Oli…” you whimper, showing him your phone.

He sets his own phone down on his bedside cabinet as he focuses on yours. It’s them. Oliver takes your phone, eyes furrowed as he debates whether to answer or not - choosing to answer brazenly. He puts it on loudspeaker, if only so you can confirm it is indeed the man who’s been harassing you endlessly.

The breaths are heavy but also stifled. It’s like he’s trying to control himself. He’s trying to be quiet. Oliver looks at you for answers, but you don’t have any for him. You haven’t got a single solitary clue on how to deal with these calls anymore.

Nothing works.

“Keep messing with her, I’ll fuck you up.” he says sternly. He eyes you up to make sure you’re listening to him. He wants you, needs you, to know he’s going to protect you at any cost. “We know who you are, so knock it the fuck off.”

He presses the big red disconnect button and puts your phone down beside you on the desk. He’s a little taken aback when you rush into his arms, your head resting on his firm chest while your arms wrap tightly around his torso. His hand comes down gently on the crown of your head and hear him emit a soft chuckle. You can’t see the small smile etching its way across his face, but you know it’s there.

“I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, okay?” he assures you. You feel like a different person, with him. It’s like you’re having an out of body experience when you find yourself lunging forward on your tippy toes to place your lips against his. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. Not right away, at least. He holds your shoulders after a few seconds go by. “Where did that come from?” he smirks.

“I don’t know, sorry… I just—” you’re interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. You back away a little, smiling. “Saved by the bell.” you joke.

“I’ll go,” he closes the gap between you again, bending down to capture your lips in a soft, chaste kiss once again. “Find a movie or something, anything you want.” he whispers against your skin before parting from you.

You shiver, slightly, after he closes the door behind himself. The rational side of you knows that you’re fine. Nothing bad is going to happen right now. But you can’t help feeling safer with Oli around.

Maybe that’s why you kissed him.

You’re just so grateful to him.

“We should prob’ly go to sleep.”

You nod, agreeing when you see the time tick tick ticking on the plain black clock above his desk. A few hours had passed since the most recent call. You didn’t even pick a movie, you ended up watching some silly gaming videos on YouTube while you ate together.

It was divine.

And you can’t deny the possibility that it tasted better with a smile on your face and good company.

You get under the covers, your body feeling warmer as you watch Oliver circle the bed to turn off the light. He’d decided to forgo wearing anything to cover his chiselled body, and you suspect he did it on purpose.

The room is plunged into darkness until he uses the flashlight on his phone to guide his way back to bed. The mattress sinks behind you as he gets under the covers, and you only just manage to suppress a yelp when he presses his body against yours. You could quite literally dissolve under the pressure.

He smirks against the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he kisses you there, a desperate mewl escaping you in an instant. His hand rests on the curve of your hip, though his thick fingers begin to sink into your malleable flesh. You can’t even bring yourself to protest as you feel him not so subtly nudge his hips into you. And you can feel him.

“Oli… w-we shouldn’t.” you say, softly, the desperation clinging to your tongue gives away your true feelings instantly. You shouldn’t? That’s your opinion, clearly, as a rough hand winds its way around your body and up the baggy unflattering t-shirt you’d decided to wear.

“Are you sure?” he whispers against the hairs standing on end on the back of your neck. Words formulating in your mouth crumble to pieces when he squeezes the supple flesh of your breasts, alternating between them like he’s deciding which is his favourite. He experimentally rolls one of your nipples between his finger and thumb, and he’s mesmerised by the sound you release and the way you back your ass up against his aching length. He offers his own breathy sound in response. It’s almost a gasp. “You like this?” he wonders aloud despite knowing.

And you could cry as you nod.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. Since you’ve been loved.

And why should you put your needs on hold just because you’re a little scared?

“What about just the tip, princess?” he mutters, you feel your panties soak through as gravelly words enter your ear canal. He’s that desperate. He needs you that badly that he’s prepared to settle for just the tip. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand how much I need you, baby?”

“We r-really shouldn’t…” you tell him.

Even through the material of the top you’re wearing, you feel his rock hard body pressed heavily into your back. His hard-on makes you dizzy, you may as well be drunk from how much the room is spinning as you do all you can to resist.

“But you want to.” he tells you. He moves you onto your back and cages you in. He brushes his bulging sweats into your heat, his head drooping as he feels so close but so far to what he’s always wanted. Since the very moment he set his sights on you, he wanted this. “I can feel you, princess. You can feel me too, yeah?” he asks.

“Y-Yes, Oli… I feel you.”

“So stop fightin’ it.” he commands, though there’s a level of desperation interlaced with his words. He pulls down his sweats and his cock springs free, slapping against his abs and leaving a sticky smear against his tensing muscles. You whimper when he repeatedly taps his cockhead against your clit, even through the layers you’re wearing to cover it. Your toes curl. “Just the tip, sweetheart. C’mon, for me… been waiting so long for this.”

You don’t even answer before he hooks deft fingers into the waistline of your shorts. He leaves your panties, though. And you yelp as his fingers tease the pretty lace covering your drippy folds. He hums, he moans as his fingers run along the clothed length of your slit.

“You’re fucking soaking, baby. You need this cock, please. Let me fuck you. Why are you tryna deny yourself of a good time?”

And with that, you find yourself nodding dumbly.

He growls at your muted answer. It’s all he needs. It’s all he fucking needs and he’s happy his odd coloured eyes even manage to pick up on the gesture even in the dark. Could he have imagined it? He doesn’t know, nor does he care when your legs spread open for him like a flower once he moves your panties aside. The dewiness is cold against the crease of your thigh, but it’s barely noticeable as Oli spits down on your pulsing clit.

“Just the tip, o-okay?” you stutter.

“Mmm,” he answers. He hisses as your tight cunt swallows him, practically sucking in the head of his cock as soon as your entrance feels him. His eyes lose focus for a second and his breathing is erratic.

It’s happening.

It’s really happening.

He almost loses balance, hands settling on your bent knees so he can stabilise himself. You’ve been playing so hard to get for so long. And even you aren’t sure why.

He cups your face as he lowers his body on top of yours. His lips slot against your own as he kisses you passionately, though he breaks it soon enough.

“’m sorry.” he apologises. And you’re confused, only for a moment, before you feel his full-length plunge into your unprepped walls. Your hands fly to his back, nails digging and scratching over beautiful musculature and marking him like he’s yours “You’re fucking tight, baby.” he chuckles, kissing you again as his hips begin to gyrate.

“Oli, I said—”

“Don’t care.” he argues, already knowing what you’re about to say. “You feel too good. So tight f’me, princess. ‘n I’m making you feel good, yeah? Let me fuck you, stop thinking and take it.” he tells you, hips snapping harder to accentuate his point.

“Nngh—!” you moan, your nails still claw and mark at his back. He chuckles, darkly, as you draw blood. He doesn’t care, not in the least. He hadn’t expected you to be like this, but he can’t say he isn’t enjoying it. He kisses your neck as his thrusts get deeper and harsher. You feel his lips curve as you clench around him tighter.

He’s found your spot.

That perfect spot deep inside of your perfect cunt.

Your tight walls that now he’s certain were made for him to fuck. He pulls out, and it’s so brief. But the way you’re whimpering tells him how much of a good girl you are. You’re trained without even needing to cum. You’ve never been fucked so good.

After all of the sex you had with your ex, you didn’t know missionary could feel like this.

Doggy was always your favourite because it was the only time you could really feel anything with him. But this… you can feel him in your fucking throat. Your mind is blank as he pounds into you again and again at an unrelenting pace.

“Who’s making you feel good?” he mumbles into your ear. You feel close to passing out when he nibbles on your earlobe right after. Your cunt clenches and he laughs because he swears if you do that again you might actually break his cock. “Who’s fucking you so good, hm? Tell me who’s making your pretty pussy purr.”

“Y-You!” you gasp. “Oli, please! Please don’t stop.” you wail.

You can’t even feel embarrassed at the thought of anyone hearing you. Not when he’s dangling your first penetrative orgasm right in front of your face like a donkey with a hanging carrot. You mumble his name like it’s a prayer as he batters into your g-spot as if it were his soul reason for living.

“Waited too fuckin’ long for this,” he admits, the scruff of his facial hair scratches your skin as he gives you a filthy, sordid tongue kiss whilst continuing to assault the button deep within that will lead to your eventual ruin. And it’s close. It’s so fucking close and the two of you can feel it. “First time you’ve been fucked properly. That pathetic ex of yours—”

“D-Don’t,” you warn him, having no desire talking about your potential stalker when you’re so close to reaching your peak.

He grabs your face and squeezes until your lips pucker for him. Your eyes widen as he stares into them. You will listen to what he has to say, he’s making damn sure of it.

“Had a perfect pussy right in his face ‘n he didn’t know what to do with her.” he smirks. “No wonder you didn’t want him anymore.”

“Oli,” you sob. “Oli, please.”

“But I can make you cum.” he tells you. He frees your face and holds his hands under the bends of your knees. You feel every breath in your lungs escape as he folds you in half. He can’t help but laugh, not quite at your expense but it feels like that regardless. Only because he’s shocked. He can’t believe such a simple change could have you cumming so quickly for him. “Good girl, that’s it, baby.” he praises you.

“Haah, hah, aaaah! O-Oli! Mmmpf—!” you gasp, creaming around him pathetically as he drills his length in and out of you.

“I’ll make you cum t-that hard. Every fucking time, princess.” he stutters as he nears his own end. He isn’t sure, but he’s almost certain he sees your eyes cross as you cum for him. God you’re such a slut. He can’t believe you’ve been acting so coy and hard to get for so long. You’ll be addicted, now. You won’t be able to get enough now that you’ve experienced what a good fuck can really do for you. “Fuck. Fuuuuu-ck…” he finishes, still thrusting into you.

The warmth you feel coat your insides has your self esteem at an all time high. And you hate how much of a simple-minded girl you really are. As if guys won’t cum in anything they stick their dicks in if given the chance. And, still, you feel so special that Oliver Aiku chose you to be his own personal cum dump for the night.

His sweet words and ability to make you unravel make you feel more meaningful to him than you really are. He kisses you repeatedly before collapsing by your side. His seed dribbles out of your spent cunt and, now, you feel disgusting. But it doesn’t take long for him to catch his breath and move to spoon you again. He puts his softening length back inside, intent on keeping you plugged up with the goal of falling asleep like this.

“T-Thank you… Oli…” you whisper.

He doesn’t speak.

But a sweet kiss on your shoulder is all you needed from him.

“Oliver.” you whisper.

He grunts in response, and that’s all. You consider saying his name again. You consider saying it a little louder this time so he’ll hear you. But instead, you drop it. If anything, it’s probably a blessing. You raise your head a little to check where all of your belongings are. If he’s so out of it that he can’t even respond to his name, you should take the chance to sneak out before anyone can tease you about your antics.

You’re expecting an earful from Lacey. She’ll want to talk about every sordid detail. And, truthfully, you’d rather die. You’re embarrassed. You’re ashamed of yourself for even having sex on your mind when you’re dealing with a stalker.

The thought of the other guys seeing you is filling you with embarrassment, too. You know already without even seeing them that everyone knows what you did. You were so loud, both of you were. And in the moment, you didn’t care. Oliver didn’t either, but he’ll wake up not caring too.

Guys that hadn’t heard you fucking will have definitely been told by now. You’ll be greeted by smirks and torment on your way out of the frat. You should have known this would end up happening. It’s been obvious how much Oliver wanted this for a long time, and you held off, but last night you were weak.

So weak, and now you want to runaway from the scene of the crime.

You’re taken aback as you try and get out of bed but you’re pulled straight back into Oliver’s arms.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” he asks.

Fuck.

As if he couldn’t get any sexier, of course his morning voice is hot. It’s coarse and rugged and you instinctively melt back into his arms. You’ll tell him. You will tell him that you’re leaving. Right after you grind on him a little bit.

Just a little bit.

“I h-have to go,” you lie. “I’ve got things to do, Oli.”

“Mmm, don’t care. Got morning wood, feel it?” he asks. His arm snakes around your body and his palm flattens against your stomach so that your ass is pressed against his erection once again. “Can’t go ‘til you do something about it.”

“Oli I, aah, fu—! N-Not fair…” you mewl as his fingers dip into your panties and his fingers begin to play with your silky clit.

“Suck me off.” he commands, his touches on your clit become lighter and lighter until he stops completely. “I’ll finger you ‘til you’re droolin’ if you suck this cock f’me, princess.” he stuffs his wet fingers into your mouth so you can taste yourself. It catches you off guard, and you sputter around them. But as he continues to finger fuck your face, you begin to mewl around his thick digits. “Good girl, just suck my cock like that.”

He reaches behind his head and throws a pillow to the ground for you. He lifts you so you’re facing him, and can’t quite believe how seamlessly he manages to carry and move you exactly where he wants.

And then you remember, he’s experienced.

He sits on the edge of the bed whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as you make out. He bites your lip and encourages you to drop to the ground. You nod, reluctantly, worried that you won’t be able to give the performance he’s hoping for.

But regardless, he watches as you move the pillow across the floor and between his feet so you can kneel on it.

You whimper a little as your legs widen as you kneel, feeling last nights ejaculate slowly drip out of you and onto his fresh, pristine pillow. He doesn’t care, though. His dick is soaked from your cunt and his pre. And it’s all you can think about as he lightly slaps it against your nose and lips.

Your jaw loosens and your mouth is a perfect ‘O’ shape for him to slot into. His fingers lace through your hair as he slowly lowers you onto his cock. You hadn’t noticed in the dark, but he’s uncircumcised. You’ve never seen a dick like his before.

Your hand wraps around his length as you take him into your mouth, but you soon pull away again. You can’t believe how much easier it is to work someone with foreskin.

He smirks, seeing the thoughts go through your head. He’s so sensitive and receptive and you’re clueless. He’s practically putty in your hands and yet you think he’s the one in control. You’re so cute and naïve.

He loves girls like you.

“Suck it, princess.” he commands. “S’not a toy, y’know. Suck my dick clean.”

You clear your throat before sinking down onto his length once again, finding a steady rhythm to suck and lick and take him down your throat. He’s average length, but he’s girthy. It’s hard to take, honestly. Compared to your pencil-dicked ex, your eyes are watering and you’re doing anything and everything not to choke or gag.

He sees it, too, he’s got a perfect view as he tugs at your hair to make sure you’re keeping eye contact with him as you suck him dry.

“That’s a good slut,” he smirks through a heavy breath. “Take this dick, jus’ like that…” he continues.

Your thighs squeeze together as he degrades you. You don’t like it, you don’t like that you’ve become a slut after being his princess. But at the same time, you love it. You want to hear it again. So you take him deeper. And deeper.

“Such a dumb girl letting that loser ex of yours stick his dick in you.” he says, licking his lips as he pushes your head lightly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as the pressure of his hand intensifies until your nose brushes against brunette curls, and then squishes against his pubis. “And now he’s stalking you… what do you think he’d do if he knew you were sucking this cock?” he asks, his voice breathy and desperate as his hips start to buck.

You try to pull away, but the barely trying effort of his hand keeping you in place is somehow stronger. He coos as you stutter, struggling to breathe through the desperation.

“Breathe through your nose, stupid.” he tells you. “Good cock makes pretty girls like you real dumb.” he smiles.

He yanks at your hair until you’re fully removed from his cock. Pre and dribble pools from your mouth as you gasp desperately. You want to be mad at him, you want to tell him not to speak to you like that.

But you can’t.

Not when his lips are on yours and you feel yourself getting off from the idea of him tasting himself on your tongue. You’re breathless and out of words when he breaks it momentarily, and the sound of tacky masturbation is like a tidal wave in your ears.

“My pretty little slut, aren’t you?” he asks, kissing you again before you can answer. You can’t answer when your head is so empty. Is that really what you are? It doesn’t matter, you suppose. He’s already decided for you. “God, don’t you have any self-respect? Don’t you think you deserve better than being a stupid slut for me?”

His face contorts as he jerks himself harder and faster. You’re too busy thinking about his question to notice, though. You suck his tip into your mouth before he forces you away. His intimidating glare telling you that he’s looking for an answer this time.

“M-Maybe…” you pout, eyes wet and wide as you wonder aloud. Do you deserve better? Isn’t this all your good for? He’ll keep you safe, at least. He seems to like you more than any other girl on campus. He’s the best fuck you’ve ever had and you’re way more into him than you’d ever let on.

And just the as word leaves your lips, he’s moaning boisterously. Your face painted in white, pearly cum. A showing of just how much worth you have in his eyes. It feels almost endless as he gives you a full facial, hissing as it drips from your eyelash and into your eye.

He scrapes some of it from your face and force feeds it into your mouth.

You’re disgusting, too, because you suck without question.

“Fuck, you’re nasty.” he laughs. He lifts you up from the ground and tosses you onto the bed with little care. You almost want to cry from the stinging sensation you feel in your eye. You should have left when you had the chance. Instead you’re starting off the morning and Oliver Aiku’s cum rag. You don’t feel much better when he throws your shorts at you. “Clean yourself up.”

You try your best, focusing the material around your eye area as you try to do some sort of damage control. You see him tuck his dick into his sweats with your unaffected eye, and he swaggers towards the bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“I’ll get you a towel, wait here.” he tells you.

He hastens down the stairs and walks into the kitchen. The frat is bare, he suspects most of the guys must still be in bed. Though as soon as he rounds the corner, he notices Eita sitting at the kitchen table. They share a knowing smirk, silently celebrating the fact that Oliver finally got what he wanted out of you.

Oliver pours himself a bowl of cereal, leaning against the counter as he crunches it between his teeth. Eita looks up from his phone after a few moments of silence and finally speaks.

“Did you fuck her, then? Or—”

“Fucked her stupid. ‘n she sucked me off this morning.” he smirks, slurping the milk on his spoon as he thinks about your pretty face covered in his seed. “All thanks to you, my friend.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eita laughs, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and igniting it with a lighter from his pocket.

“No no, really, thank you.” he laughs, “I got to be her knight in shining armour when you called her last night. She was so easy to fuck after that.” he grins, holding a fist out for him to bump. Eita chuckles, trading which hand holds his cigarette before returning the gesture.

“You’re such a sick fuck.” Eita laughs, scrolling through his phone. “Look,” he shows his screen to Oliver. He can only laugh when he sees yet another article about the psycho serial killer that has made your anxiety worse than it already would be with a stalker on the loose.

“I’m not the one killing girls, am I?” Oliver comments, “Just scaring one girl with some heavy breathing.” he shrugs.

Even he isn’t twisted enough to think whoever this local serial killer is isn’t completely fucked up. But he can’t deny that it started happening at the perfect time. After he set his plan in motion to be your stalker. After he planted a seed in your mind that he’d always be there for you if you needed him. He’d always protect you no matter what happened, and he wasn’t about to let this stalker get to you.

You fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. You’re even starting to suspect your stupid limp dick ex because he told you to suspect him. Oliver Aiku, the guy who’s always around when you need him most. The guy who’s always just a phone call or text message away. The guy who’s always offered to be by your side and jump in harms way to protect you.

Oliver wasn’t even on your radar.

Perfect Oliver.

Sweet Oliver.

© 2024 rinhaler

[coryosbaby]

i need more felix shit from u 😣😣

—Jealous Girl !

Fandom: ‘Saltburn’

Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)

Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.

Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix

If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.

He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.

And you fucking hate it.

It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.

But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.

Not enough like a lover.

It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.

You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.

The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.

‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’

It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.

And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.

Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.

He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.

“(Y/N!)”

Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.

Felix and her.

Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.

Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.

You can’t look any longer.

You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.

It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.

But he isn’t Felix.

Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.

You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.

It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.

Just how you want Felix to be.

You decide not to return to the party.

—

Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—

Shit, is this even your hallway?

You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.

Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.

You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.

It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.

“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”

And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.

“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”

Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.

The color drains from your face.

Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.

He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.

Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.

Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.

“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.

You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.

So much for parties.

—

When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.

Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.

It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.

You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.

You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.

God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?

Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.

You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.

Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.

You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.

—

It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.

You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.

“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”

Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.

“And you’re not?”

He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Are you going to behave?”

A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.

“No.”

You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.

“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.

He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.

“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I’ll behave.”

He hisses it, and you’re pleased.

“Good boy.”

And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.

—

The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.

You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.

You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.

It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.

“We need to talk.”

You keep walking, him trailing behind you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”

His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.

“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.

He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”

He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.

He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.

“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”

“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“

You clench your teeth.

“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”

You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.

God, this is so wrong.

“I think you know.”

Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.

“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”

“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”

You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.

“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“

Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.

You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.

Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.

“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.

“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”

The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?

The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.

“What?”

You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.

“You heard me, Felix.”

His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.

“So that’s what you want?”

It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.

“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”

You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.

“God, you’re sick.”

He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.

“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“

Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”

“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.

“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”

You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.

“You think that I don’t want you like this?”

It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.

“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“

He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.

“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.

“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.

“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.

“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”

That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.

You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.

“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”

You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”

Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.

After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.

It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.

“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”

“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”

He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.

“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”

He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.

“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.

“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”

You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.

Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”

He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.

He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.

“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.

“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”

“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”

You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.

Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.

He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”

Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.

“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“

“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.

“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

[dumbpsique]

DATING OLIVER AIKU; how it feels.

|If by a miracle you won this man's heart, what kind of boyfriend would he be?

|Red stars: NSFW

☆ I disagree with those who say that Oliver is not jealous. He is absolutely very jealous, after all, he understands very well how the male mind works.

☆ lots of hugs in public, without caring if the entire press is pointing cameras at you.

☆ He wakes up early and plays on his cell phone, which means he will have lots of photos of you sleeping with your mouth open, drooling or even videos of you snoring.

☆ It absolutely makes you embarrassed. without wanting to? Don't be silly, it's a hobby.

☆ He eats while playing on his cell phone, so while you're complaining about all your problems, he's watching some tiktok at full volume.

☆ your dates are car trips where you can put your feet up, choose the music and adjust the air conditioning temperature.

☆ When he comes into contact with kids, he acts like an idiot, running after them, spinning them around, jumping, doing whatever they want. then you comment about wanting to start a family and he blanches "god, no."

☆ 100% needy when he wants something. holding onto your waist, sniffing your neck and whispering "pleeeeease" in your ear.

☆ calls you the most shameful petnames possible in public. Are you in front of a waiter? "my little parakeet." They are having lunch with his parents "cute baby, can you pass the salt?" Yes, he is ridiculous.

☆ He never knows how to give you gifts, he always buys the most expensive one.

☆ thinks you're the hottest woman in the world and loves showing off by your side. points to all the guys on the team "that's my girl"

☆ He stresses you out in fights because he doesn't respond to your insults. use sarcasm or just respond with "okok, if you think you're right"

☆ his parents adore him. Oliver is a natural extrovert and even gets along well with his grandparents. he talks about football, helps your mother in the kitchen, plays with your younger siblings and bothers your father.

☆ It cooks SO badly that it's depressing. Every romantic night ends with a burnt pan and a last-minute pizza order.

☆ squeeze your ass regardless of who you are in front of. zero embarrassment, every couple does this, right? in public or not, what changes?

☆ he says he's going to braid your hair (you always end up with knots, but you leave it because you think it's cute.

☆ 8 or 80. he will open the car door in a gentlemanly way or forget you outside and leave.

☆ the kind of guy who if you ask him to buy pads he will ask you what size your pussy is.

☆ makes jokes about having lovers, but would never trade you for anyone.

☆ double meaning jokes ALWAYS! this guy has no discernment of limits (he dies laughing at his own jokes.

☆ every event he takes you to, you end up on a couch with a glass of wine in your hand while cursing everyone there.

☆ he enjoys semi-public sex, he feels turned on by the fact that he can be caught or that he can hear you melting for him.

☆ tags you anywhere you consider hot. his fingers are marked on her waist, bites on her neck and breasts. That's why he thinks he's exceptional.

☆ "do you like this? oh you do, look at the way you're whining." damn, he's dirty.

☆ it will break your ego painfully, denying you orgasm and making you beg for it.

☆ I would ask to record. no one is made of iron, what would he do when he was horny and in another country without you? having videos made everthing easier.

☆ have rough sex and sleep spooning FR

[userchai]

I need them both inside me rn

the thing is so do I ugh

I think their dynamic with someone else would be so hot. Eddie definitely is the master of dirty talk and degrading, and Steve would be the opposite. He would be so sweet to you, gently touching you while Eddie's fucking into you hard from behind, telling you to keep your eyes on him as Eddie ruins you. They both would sometimes ignore you completely though, telling each other how good your mouth or pussy feels while you can do nothing but moan and take it, looking up the best you can to see them leaning over your body, making out with each other…

[gogoconvstore]

hello bestieee 😚😚

new request!! poly bearnelli texts with an s/o who is shy about affection ? 👉👈

fanks :]

-bear anon

BEARNELLI X AFFECTION SHY READER TEXTS~!

REVERSE VERSIONS:

[qpidkitea]

TRANQUILITY

FARLEIGH START X FEM! READER

PRÉCIS: AU where Oliver is caught before he fully takes over Saltburn, Felix is still dead, and obviously Farleigh is completely torn and in need of comfort at the loss of his best friend and cousin, takes place after the curtain scene

WARNING: Angsty, cursing, mentions of death, cheek kisses, descriptions of a dead body, so much crying, comfort.

Nothing could've prepared you for today. Nothing could've prepared you for the horrified scream of Elspeth that's still ringing in your ears after the finding of Felix's dead body. His face was blue and swollen, a white, foamy, dried substance cascading down his cheek. His wings from his costume were bent and dirtied as he lay face down on the floor. The police discovered Oliver and his schemes almost immediately. They found the discarded powdered poison laying just a few yards away from the crime scene in the maze. His fingerprints were all over it.

Lunch was unbearable. After watching Oliver being pulled away from the mansion in handcuffs, everyone, especially Farleigh, was excused, his previous claims of drug use dismissed. Silent tears streamed down almost everyone's faces. Venetia almost looked dead. She was surely high on some type of pills, her mascara horribly smudged on her pale face. You wanted to help her, but you feared that if you touched her, she would crumble under your touch completely. Farleigh was shaking horribly, trembling with the effort of trying to keep his breakdown at bay, but tears still found their way down his face.

You sat silently beside Farleigh, holding and squeezing his hand underneath the table, staring down at the soon-to-be cold Shepards Pie on the table in front of you. Elspeth clears her throat, and you look up. She smiles at you, lifting her wineglass and taking an almost dangerous gulp of wine. She sets down the glass, the sound of it being painfully loud because of the quietness of the entire place, the only other sounds being small sniffles, and the sound of Jame's fork and knife cutting into his meal.

"Y/N darling?" Elspeth's voice startles you, sucking you out of the silence of your own head.

"Yes?" You didn't know what she could've possibly asked you at the moment. Your thoughts bounced off the walls of your head, wondering if she would ask you anything about Oliver. Maybe a question about if you noticed any of this behavior at school, or while he lived here..

"Did you enjoy the party?" Farleigh chuckles slightly, squeezing your hand impossibly tight. He shook his head in utter disbelief at her question.

Before you could answer, Duncan enters the room quietly, leaning down next to Sir James, who looks completely unfazed but yet mortified. Duncan then whispers in James' ear, something about closing the curtains in case the coroner passes the window of the room that you all sat in.

"Yes. Thank you. Close them."

Duncan closes the curtains smoothly, the room becoming an almost evil looking red as they close. There was one area left of the room that still shun with the beautiful light of the morning, and you can't help but think how the day would be perfect for laying in the tall grass fields underneath the warm sun, ignoring the cold breeze that would pass you. Duncan takes a few steps to close the last curtain, only to struggle horribly. Something must've been caught. His efforts became more aggressive, especially after noticing the coroner walking closer to the window. Sir James became more aggravated at each tug of the curtain.

"Duncan, just get them closed, for Christ's sake!" Sir James yells and angrily lets his fists slam against the table, and it makes everyone in the room jump.

"Yes, I am trying, sir. I can’t-" Duncan gives the curtain a final yank, and the room is plunged into the same red darkness. As if on cue, the sound of the gurney that held Felix's body rolled on the gravel, complete with the ambulance doors shutting harshly. That seemed to be Farleigh's final straw. He stands up abruptly, still holding your hand, which yanks your arm, forcing you to stand up with him. As Farleigh walks away, you walk with him quietly, ignoring the protested yells of Sir James. He walks quickly, still shaking, with tears flowing down his face.

Even though Farleigh was walking incredibly fast, it seems the walk was longer than usual, his long legs working overtime as he walks the enormous expanse of the mansion.

"Farleigh... slow down please'm gonna fall-" You were tripping on your own two feet, whisking down hallways and turning the curves of the wall way too fast to even register you were turning them.

"Shut up"

You weren't trying to submit to him, nor show your weakness, but you knew he was frustrated, so you shut your mouth. Farleigh loved the feeling of control, especially after feeling like he had none recently. As you reach Farleigh's room, you immediately noticed the white powder spread across in a thin line across the brown wooden desk in his room. You take your hand away from his, pushing the door closed gently. As the door closes behind you, Farleigh breaks down, not even making it to his bed before his knees give out. Sobbing quietly with his back turned and his arm and head resting on the edge of the messy, unmade bed, his body jumping with every try to catch his breath.

You walk quickly to him, crouching down next to him, not worried about your skirt riding up, not around him. Rubbing your hand up and down his back, you gave him a minute to let it all out, to let all the tears out that couldn't be let out in the somewhat hostile situation of lunch.

"Farleigh..." Before you knew it, five minutes passed, and it seemed as if Farleigh's cries weren't faltering, still crying and sniffing at the intensity that he was when he started.

"Farleigh, darling please, breathe for me." He breathe's in wildly, his breath was so shaky, you thought that if he tried to breathe in properly, his lungs would explode. He finally lifts his head up, his face extremely red from crying and the lack of a proper breath. You cup his wet face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks, drying them as you do.

Instead of words, you do. You breathe in deeply, and Farleigh mocks you shakily, but he still does. You hold your breath for a minute before exhaling. With each inhale you take, he mirrors your breath again, and again, and again, until he returns to normal breathing.

You pull the wreck of a boy into a tight hug. He doesn't hug you back, but you don't mind. Pulling back, you kiss his cheeks and then his forehead, which seems to calm him down all together. A hiccup is heard coming from him and you can't help but giggle. The poor boy cried too hard to the point of hiccups.

"Thank you" Farleigh looks into your eyes as he says this, words sounding strange from the swelling of his sinuses and vocal cords. He looks down at his lap, sighing harshly before leaning his head against his bed, feeling his neck dampen from his own tears that stained the sheets.

"Here, let me get you a cold cloth." You stand up, traveling down the hall to the cold bathroom. It was a chilly day at Saltburn. You open the small closet next to the door, opening it to reveal a stack of purple, white, and beige washcloths. You grab a purple one and walk to the sink. As you turn on the sink, you run your fingers underneath the cold water, your fingers going numb as the water turns colder. You place the rag under the running water, letting it completely soak, the color of the cloth becoming a deep purple.

You turn off the water and squeeze the rag of the remaining water, unfolding it and letting it swing in the air, letting the chilly air make the rag colder. As you walk back down the hall, you were happy to hear silence. Happy to hear that Farleigh hadn't cried again. You walk into the doorway and see Farleigh still where you left him, with his head leaning back on the bed. You sit down next to him on your knees. The hardwood floors hurt, but it was all worth it for your sweet boy.

Placing a cool wet rag on his hot face felt like heaven for Farleigh. He sighed deeply as you pressed the rag to his face. You couldn't see his face, but you could tell he was smiling. His face cooled down quickly, and he soon exhaled harshly because of restricted air flow coming through his covered face. He was okay. And you were glad he was okay.

"What the fuck would I do without you?" His words come out muffled, nasally, and strained, but you still heard him. You pull the rag off his face and gently kiss his cheek for the third time.

"Probably suffer"

[uns4lted]

ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏɴᴄᴇ

pairings: Oliver Aiku x fem!reader genre: fluff, angst, implied smut warnings: oliver calls the reader as "princess", a little bit suggestive, might be ooc! a/n: been listening to taylor's slut! lately and oliver was the first one who came across my mind and istg, this really reminds me of him A LOT.

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you started dating Oliver Aiku. Japan's U-20 star, now a sensation playing for Italy's Ubers, had a reputation that spoke louder than his skill on the pitch. His charm was as notorious as his goal-stopping abilities, and everyone knew about his track record with women. You'd seen the way people looked at him, the whispers that followed him, the headlines that made him sound untouchable, a man who took what he wanted and moved on when he was done.

You weren't naive. You'd heard it all: Oliver Aiku was a player in every sense of the word. But something about him pulled you in anyway. And to your surprise, it wasn’t just his looks or fame that kept you around. No, Oliver treated you with a level of respect and affection that shattered the image you had in your head. Beneath that infamous smile, he was a gentleman.

"Princess," he'd call you with a smirk that always made your heart flutter, a little glint in his eyes as if you were the only one who mattered. And the way he looked at you—it was as if you were more than just some temporary fling. Like you were something precious, something he'd protect no matter what.

But not everyone saw it that way.

The moment your relationship went public, the world had an opinion about it. Some fans were excited, but most were furious. After all, Oliver was everyone’s fantasy, the man they all wanted. But for you? It became a warzone. The comments on social media were brutal. Some praised your courage, but many more dragged your name through the mud. "She's not even pretty." "He’s only with her for fun."

"Slut."

That one stung at first. It crawled under your skin, the way people reduced you to nothing but a word, thinking they knew anything about what you and Oliver shared. But after a while, the shock of it wore off. You stopped caring. Why should you? None of those people knew what it was like to be with him. They didn’t see the softness in his eyes when he held you close, or the way he kissed you like he was pouring all his emotions into that moment.

You weren’t the type to dwell on people’s words, but lately, they lingered more than usual. Maybe it was because you were head over heels in love, and the weight of their judgments felt more suffocating than before.

Now, sprawled across your bed, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to Oliver. You’d been lovesick for days, missing him more than you’d care to admit. The thoughts of him made your chest tighten in that achingly sweet way. It was ridiculous, really, how the smallest memories of his touch, his voice, could turn you into a mess of emotions.

Every time he called you "princess" or kissed your forehead in that soft, protective way, it sent shivers down your spine, embedding itself into your mind. You’d close your eyes and replay moments with him on loop, the feel of his hands on your waist, his laugh filling the room, the way his lips always found yours like they were made to fit.

You weren’t used to this, weren’t used to feeling like this—completely wrapped up in someone else, thinking about them all the time. It made you feel vulnerable, a little stupid even, but mostly lovestruck. Hopelessly, utterly in love.

Your phone was abandoned beside you, buzzing occasionally with notifications you ignored. Instead, you were lost in the memories of the way Oliver held you close last time you were together, his warm breath against your skin, his lips murmuring soft promises into the crook of your neck. You couldn’t shake it. The feeling that he wasn’t just some fleeting crush. He had you, and you were starting to realize how deeply you’d fallen.

You sighed, letting yourself bask in the feelings that consumed you, allowing the weight of your emotions to spread across your limbs as you lay there, still in your bed, caught between the sweetness of it all and the bitter aftertaste of what people said.

Before you could sink any deeper into your thoughts, Oliver’s deep voice suddenly pulled you from your daze. “Princess,” he called, concern lacing his words as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you. “You’ve been quiet today. Something on your mind?”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out at first. The truth? You were drowning in your thoughts, the weight of those comments, those cruel words, lingering in the back of your mind. But did you really care? No. Not when he was standing there, like you were the only one that mattered.

“I was just… thinking,” you mumbled, turning your head to meet his gaze, but even you could tell your voice was distant, not quite there.

Oliver’s brow furrowed, but his steps were slow as he crossed the room to you. The bed dipped under his weight as he sat down, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. He was so gentle with you, always was. His reputation was rough around the edges, but the way he treated you? It was soft, warm. Like you were something delicate.

“You’re not fooling me, princess.” His thumb traced the curve of your cheek as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours. “I know when something’s off.”

You closed your eyes, the frustration bubbling up before you could stop it. “I just… I saw some things online. What people are saying about me.”

Oliver sighed, his forehead resting against yours. “People talk. They don’t know you, and they definitely don’t know us.” His hand slipped down to your waist, pulling you against him. “Why waste your time thinking about it?”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But still…”

Before you could say more, Oliver's lips were on yours, stealing your breath, taking away the words you couldn’t quite form. It was soft at first, a kiss that spoke more than words could. But then, his grip tightened, his lips pressing harder, more insistent, as if he was reminding you that you were his. That nothing else mattered.

You melted under his touch, the heat of his body against yours, the way his hands roamed down your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed you. And the way he touched you, like you were something sacred, something he couldn’t get enough of.

“Forget what they say,” Oliver whispered against your lips, his hands slipping under your shirt, tracing the skin of your lower back, slow and deliberate. “You're mine. That’s all that matters.”

Your heart fluttered at the possessiveness in his voice, his touch sending soft, electrifying shivers down your spine. It wasn’t just the words, but the tenderness in the way he spoke. His hands glided over you like you were a rare treasure, conveying that in this moment, you were the strongest desire he couldn’t resist.

And he didn’t stop there. His kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a line of warmth in their wake. His fingers worked at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly, teasingly, before discarding it to the side. Every move was slow, taking all the time in the world to show you just how much you meant to him.

“Princess,” he whispered again, his voice low and gravelly, sending a wave of warmth through your entire body. “I’ve got you.”

And he did. Oliver always had you, in ways that no one else could. He wasn’t just some player, some womanizer. He belonged to you, and you belonged to him. The world could say whatever they wanted, but here, in this room, in his arms, none of it touched you.

In that moment, with Oliver's hands exploring your skin and his lips pressed against yours, nothing else existed. You were his, and it might be worth it for once.

likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!

[keraxxx]

Hate or Jealousy? -Part 2

Pairing: Oliver Quick x Fem!reader

Summary: Oliver is starting to grow on you, physically and mentally. You can’t stop thinking about him and he knows.

Warnings: cursing, smoking, mentions of ed, clit rubbing, praising (kink), possible manipulation/coercion, spitting, not proof read

A/N: Hi guys! Again, part two is based off Oliver and Venetia a bit(sorry i couldn’t resist). Also I think i have one more request to write so i’ll get to that and post it tomorrow. I don’t know when part 3 when be out but i’m thinking around saturday/sunday, latest monday. Enjoy!

word count: 1.9k comment to be added to taglist!

Requests are open

-

Your heart sunk into your stomach as you looked at the cracked open door. You bite your lip nervously and quickly get up from the bath, water dripping down your exposed body. You grab your robe that was placed on the counter and look outside the room.. it was empty. Not a sign of anyone even in your room. Maybe you didn't shut the door and you were just tired and needed to rest. You cursed yourself out for overthinking and quickly drained the water from the tub before getting ready for bed, wearing your black silk nightgown. Tiredness slowly takes over and you eventually fall asleep, letting all the thoughts of Oliver drift from your mind.

Morning came and the sun is creeping through your blinds, almost blinding you as you open your eyes and adjust to the sight. You sigh as you slip your feet into your pink slipper that were just at the side of your bed. You needed to mentally prepare yourself for today, just incase someone saw you in such a vulnerable state last night. You open your blind and groan as the sun smiles at you. It was too early for this. You find your way to the dining area, your relatives already sitting down and enjoying their breakfast, Oliver no where to be found. You look at the assortment of food and your face grows sour. You eventually sit down and Duncan brings over a glass and pours water into it. You thank him with a slight smile before taking a sip, the coldness of the water almost burning your throat on the way down.

"You're not going to eat? You look up at your aunt with a smile. "No thanks. My stomach is in knots this morning." You hum and Venetia looks at you with a small knowing smirk. You ignore her uncomfortable gaze and look down at your fingers, picking at the skin around your nail bed. You hear footsteps coming near you and you look up to see Oliver. "Morning Ollie." Felix says as he practically shoves his face full of eggs. "Good morning." He smiles as he faces everyone, his eyes falling on you with a hidden smirk. Your face contorts with disgust.

"Sleep well, Ollie?" Elspeth asks as she she sits up straight with a smile. "Yes.. yes I did. I'd assume you slept well too. You look beautiful this morning." He smiles sweetly at her and she looks almost stunned for a minute. She mumbles thanks and smiles. You look at her and snicker quietly to yourself at her reaction to (in her words) "pretty boy" calling her beautiful. You look at Felix and he laughs.

"Stop being so flustered. It was only a compliment." Farleigh chortles as he looks into his almost empty cup of juice. You giggle slightly as your aunt scoffs sarcastically. "Oh stop." She says softly as she drinks her drink. Your uncle keeps to himself and so does Venetia, her eyes on Oliver as Duncan brings him his plate of eggs. Oliver picks at his eggs before taking a small bite. Everyone joins in a small conversation, enjoying their breakfast.

Its the afternoon and you, Farleigh, Venetia, and Felix are all in the fields, your clothes laid out in the grassy area. You lay on your stomach, reading a book. "Ollie!" Felix says joyfully, causing you to look up from your book. You hum to yourself as he comes in his swimwear. "No clothes in the field, Ollie." You say in a teasing tone and he looks at your body, your smooth legs lifted in the air behind you as you kick your feet. You smirk at him, your sunglasses blocking your eyes as you watched him strip himself from his trunks. Everyone's jaw dropped besides Venetia's. She smirks at the sight. "Well damn Ollie. That was unexpected." She giggles to herself as Ollie walks over. He lays down on his back near Felix and you avert your attention from him to Venetia.

"Did you see that?" You smirk and she hits your arm. "The whole world saw it. Not bad for someone like him." She bites the inside of her lip slightly, preventing herself from saying more. You smile at her and shake your head, going back to your book. You look at Oliver, his eyes locked onto Felix. He's observing Felix/s features as if he was an admirer of him. Farleigh locks eyes with you and shakes his head in reference to you looking at Oliver. You embarrassedly fiddle with the pages of your book, the paper smooth against your rough finger tips.

After a long afternoon, the family gathers yet again to eat dinner, everyone in their formal, yet usual, attire. This time, you're wearing a silky, baby blue dress with a crisscross back. You take a sip of the wine in your cup, swishing the liquid in your mouth before gulping it down. You look at your dinner plate, getting sick at the thought of taking a bite, it was repulsive just thinking of it. You just weren't in the mood to eat and Oliver noticed. "Not hungry?" He asks in a soft tone, just loud enough for you to hear. He looks at you with a concerned look. You look up at him and attempt to smile politely. "Mm no. Not at the moment." You lied and he furrowed his brows. "Okay.." He looks away from you and cuts a piece of his steak, plopping it between his lips and onto his tongue. You look away and clear your throat as you mess with the fabric of your dress, just as every other dinner.

You find yourself outside again after dinner, still in your dress. You're sitting on the same bench you were the other night you confronted Oliver for hiding from everyone. You cross your arms, a cigarette lit in your mouth. You're looking over your shoulder slightly, zoning out and unaware of your surroundings, being tipsy having to do with that. "Sleep walking again?" You turn your head and blink slowly as you look up to see Oliver, still in the same tuxedo he was wearing at dinner. “Hi Ollie..” You say softly slurring your words. He smirks at you and takes the cigarette from your lips, throwing it to the ground and stepping on it to put it out. “Rude.” You giggle as you look at the cigarette on the ground. He looks at you and cocks his head to the side. "You're so beautiful.." He whispers as he circles around you, stopping behind you. He leans down and gets close to your ear, his breath tickling you as he speaks, "You're just like Venetia. Now.. tomorrow night, you're going to eat breakfast and dinner." Your breath quickens at his words. "Do you understand?" You slowly nod your head, the affect of the alcohol growing stronger, putting you in a trance.

"Good girl.." Oliver chuckles in your ear before circling back in front of you, getting on his knees. You gasp as his hand rubs up and down your knee. "I don't want to lie to you..” He says softly as he stares at your hands in your lap. "I heard you last night.." He looks up at you, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Y-You did?" He nods with a smirk. "I bet you're begging to be touched by me.." He slowly lifts his hands under your dress, your jaw dropping open as you gasp. “Do you want me to?” He whispers as he leans closer to your face. You slowly nod and he smirks, his hand finding its way to your underwear. “Ollie we shouldn’t..” You whisper before you moan softly at his fingers teasing your clothed clit. “Oh but we should.. I know you want to..”

You lean your head back slightly and Oliver rests his free hand on your hip, pulling you in slightly. At this point, you’re practically soaking through your panties, probably soaking the stone bench beneath you. He moves his hand from under your dress and spits on his fingers as he looks at you with a smirk. You whimper softly as you feel his hand reach in your underwear. “Shhh.” He says as he hushes you, his mouth slightly agape in awe. “Oh darling,.” He hums before teasing your swollen and throbbing clit. “You’re so wet..” He chuckles. “I didn’t even have to spit…” He trails off as he focuses on your expression. Your eyes are close to shutting, your jaw open, a few groans filling the air. He takes his hand off your hip and teases your bottom lip with his fingers. You seductively stick out your tongue and tease his finger tips, the wetness of your mouth soaking them. He chuckles as he watches you. “Such a pretty girl..” His hand moves against your clit faster, causing you to choke out a whine as you now suck on his fingers.

“Ollie..” You say, slobbering all over his hand. You’re practically jumping against his hand and he’s watching you as if you’re a form of free entertainment. Oliver laughs softly. “Good girl..” He praises as he moves his fingers deeper into your mouth. “Just perfect.” He mumbles to himself. He teases your throbbing clit, your thighs shaking and closing around his hand as you get closer to your high. You see Oliver drag his teeth against his bottom lip, his eyes staying on yours. He removes his fingers from your mouth and places his lips on yours, his tongue teasing the inside of your mouth. You moan into his mouth, your hands tangled in his hair as you tug, causing a groan to erupt from Oliver. You tug his head back, moaning out loud as you open your legs, shaking at the euphoric feeling of his digits. “That’s it.. come for me.” He whispers and that sends you over the edge. You gasp while you release his hair from your grip and rest your hand on the side of his neck. You finish and he removes his hand from your panties with a smirk.

“What the fuck..” You whisper as you look at him get up. He wipes his hand on the side of his pants and he caress your cheek as he looks down at you. “Goodnight.” He says softly before walking off into the distance and back into the manor. Your jaw drops and you look out into the distance. “Oh what the fuck.” You bite your lip nervously before getting up, your panties soaked with your juices. You groan as you awkwardly walk back inside as well.

Next morning, the realization of what you had done kicks in. You feel a pool of guilt in your stomach as you lay in bed, unable to get up. You force yourself out of bed and walk to the dining table. You find everyone, again, eating their breakfast. You look at Oliver and he smiles at you. “Sleep well?” You nod slowly as you look at the assortments of food. You sit down and Duncan is about to pour you a cup of juice but you quickly grab his wrists. “Eggs.. please.” Everyone looks at you in awe. “Scrambled.” You smile at him and he nods, also a bit taken aback by your request. You look at your relatives.

“What? I’m feeling better this morning.”

--

Taglist: @l-ange-maudit @trashdemon04 @hahahafucku @powellssaturn

[deantavias]

oh yeah i love reading (fan-fictions to dissociate).

[fanfics4all]

Biggest Secret

Request: Yes / No I wrote this based on this prompt!

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Oliver Queen x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 780

Warnings: Lying, and fighting, should be it. 

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

*Oliver’s POV*

The truth came out in a single, devastating moment. I didn’t want it to be like this. I always hoped that if I had to tell her, it would be on my own terms, with explanations read, calm, and controlled. But that hope was shattered when she stumbled across me suiting up, the familiar green hood and bow giving away every lie I told her over the years. 

Now, we stood in the quiet of our apartment, tension thich and unyielding between us. She looked at me with a mixture of hurt and betrayal that cut deeper than any wound I ever got in the field. 

“I can’t believe this… all this time…all the times you disappeared, all the lies… you were him.” She said, her voice shaking. 

“I was trying to protect you.” My voice was strained, trying to keep the desperation out of my tone. She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. 

“To protect me? Or to protect yourself from having to deal with the fallout?” The question hit me like a punch in the gut. 

“You think I did this to keep myself safe? Every night, every time I went out there, it was you I thought about. I didn’t want you to live in fear, to have to worry about what I was doing.” I insisted, my voice rising. 

“Oliver…” Her tone was low. 

“If you really trusted me, you would have let me make the choice for myself. You can’t keep me in the dark and call it ‘protection’. That’s now how relationships work.” I took a step towards her, my expression torn and I tried to reach for her hand. 

“Please, I know it was wrong to lie to you. But this is dangerous. I’ve seen what happens to people who get too close-” 

“So you thought lying to me was better? That I wouldn’t find out one day? Or maybe you thought I wouldn’t mind that you’ve been living this entire double life right under my nose!” Her words stung because they were true. In some corner of my mind, I had hoped she would never know. It was selfish, but it was a small comfort to me to think that maybe I could keep this part of my life from touching her. 

“I’m not sorry for the fact I lied. I did it to protect you.” I said firmly, though I could feel the weight of my decision bearing down on me, tearing us apart. She stared at me, her gaze piercing through every layer of my defenses. 

“No, Oliver…” She said softly, her voice filled with a disappointment that was far worse than anger. 

“You did it to protect yourself. To keep me from making a decision you were afraid I’d make. You thought you’d lose me if I knew the truth.” I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came. She was right. I knew the truth would put her in danger, yes, but I also feared she’d look at me differently. I thought she’d decide she couldn’t be with a man who carried so much darkness. The silence between us grew heavy. 

“Do you even trust me, Oliver?” She asked, her voice breaking. 

“Or am I just one more person you feel you need to ‘protect’ without thinking about how I feel?” I reached for her, my voice desperate. 

“I do trust you. I trust you more than anything, but this… this life I live, it’s not easy to share. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting you from all the pain that comes with knowing.” 

“But you don’t get to decide that for me.” She whispered, stepping back from my reach. 

“That’s the problem, Oliver. You can’t keep making these choices without me.” I closed my eyes, guilt and regret washing over me. I never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted it to end up like this. But I couldn’t take back the lies. The choices I made to keep her away from the life I’d chosen. 

“I… I don’t know what else to say… except that I’m sorry and I love you, Y/N… more than anything.” I admitted quietly. She swallowed, her shoulders tense, the conflict in her eyes nearly breaking me. 

“I need time, Oliver. Time to figure out if I can trust you again… because right now… I don’t know if I can.” Her words hit me hard. I watched as she left our apartment, leaving me standing alone. As the door clicked shut behind her, I wondered if I just lost the one person I was trying so desperately to keep safe.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @lovelywordsblog @slytherinlyn13 @liz-owl

[eee-lordy]

can i request a saltburn fic with felix and ollie both fighting over the reader? like maybe felix asks them both over for the summer and there is a lot of tension between the three of them if you catch my drift??? as steamy as you'd like!

!!! nsfw minors dni !!!

warnings: fem!reader, full on threesome, unprotected sex, absolute filth

───※ ·❆· ※───

In the case of Oliver and Felix, the three of you became fast friends. Yours was a strange little trio, three personalities that would likely clash if you hadn't met during the right circumstances, last semester.

It all happened one night after a party in some frat. You'd been abandoned by your friend, for a boy, and bummed into Felix on the balcony in search of a smoke. He gave up a cigarette for you, lit it, and spent as long as it took to smoke chatting away.

You'd seen him around campus, leading his clique around, offering outsiders royal waves. You'd never imagined you'd have a reason to speak to the guy. Or that you'd enjoy Felix's conversation as much as you had.

The next night, you'd met Oliver at the pub. You were ordering a rum and opening your wallet for a couple bucks. But this guy with piercing blue eyes had already been slipping the barkeep a pair of tens and told you yours was covered, not to worry.

"Oliver?" Felix came into view laughing about how he'd just met you and it seemed like the fates were binding you all together. You laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. But weren't turned off by the idea of the three of you being destined to occupy the same space together. You'd seen Oliver around campus too, always intrigued by the look in his sharp eyes and the demeanor he possessed.

Felix urged the three of you to claim a hightop table at the pub that night. And that's where you stayed, sharing drinks and laughs and trying not to read too much into the way either of the boys kept brushing their knuckles against your arm and their knees against your legs. You simply thanked God for the company and ate up the way each boy kept looking at you. Like you'd had been and were only ever going to be the only woman in the world.

Then it happened again the next weekend. You drank and laughed and soaked up every little glance, and each time one of the boys brushed your knee with theirs. And then again the weekend after that. You talked and talked about shit you'd never brought up with anyone else and listened as they did too.

You crashed in Oliver's dorm that night, too drunk to move further than he could assist you. He let you take up too much space in his bed. You woke up to find him propped against the wall, asleep, his hand gently splayed across your upper thigh.

Then Oliver asked you both to a party. He guided you through the crowded dorm with his hand at the base of your spine. You felt a chill when you turned around to meet Oliver's gaze, as his bore into your very soul. Felix dragged either of you around the rest of the evening, introducing you to people he felt worth knowing.

The three of you spent almost every weekend together at the pub or parties or Felix's dorm room. When a change of pace presented itself in the form of three concert tickets, won on the radio by yours truly, you knew just the two to ask along.

At the show, Felix kept his fingers creeping around the bend of your waist, pulling you closer in the crowd. He would lean in to talk in your ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. Close enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Felix took you and Ollie back. As you all shared how amazing the night was, you found yourself getting weirdly emotional about how special it was to hear that music live with these two who had come to matter so much to you. Oliver leaned closer from the back seat to assure that you mattered just as much to them too, his voice low and sweet in your ear. Felix let his left hand leave the steering wheel to find your thigh, running his fingers in soothing circles to assure he'd had just as meaningful a time.

You got dropped off first. But you desperately wanted to stay planted in that passenger seat. You didn't want to leave the way Felix kept tracing patterns against your bare leg. You didn't want to stop hearing Oliver's voice in your ear.

But you were dog tired. So you slinked out and waved goodbye and watched the boys fixate their stares on you as they wished you sweet dreams.

The next weekend, Felix asked you each to his home for the summer.

///

You and Oliver paced behind Felix, keeping up as he marched you through this castle he called home.

"This is the spare. Well, there is more than one, but I figured you could both sleep here, as I'm right on the other side of the loo. The other spare rooms are two floors away. Wouldn't want one of yous to feel left out now would I?" Felix explained, walking you into the bedroom with a giant wardrobe, one California King.

"You want us both to stay in here?" You clarified, not able to ignore the fact there was only one bed. You wouldn't have minded so much but... what if Oliver did?

"Well, like I said, I only figured. Your choices are here. The spare room two floors away. Or there's my bed." Felix responded, catching both your attention and Oliver's in a moment of tension that hung heavy in the air. Then there was a knock. It was apparently and thankfully time for dinner.

///

Felix got cleaned up first. He disappeared to the bath, leaving you and Oliver to shuffle a stack of cards in his room. The pair of you took the opportunity to marvel over Felix's home and lifestyle. To dare each other to snoop through his things. To share a laugh and pour a drink and chug them so fast you downed three more by the time Felix returned.

When the statuesque man stepped out of the steam filled loo, the sight of his damp hair and bare chest almost made you blush. But you ceased from oggling him too long, rushing to stand and take your turn in the bath.

You tried not to think too hard about how entranced you'd been by Felix just before. You tried not to wish too hard that he might open the door to the room you sat washing up in now. You tried not to dream of Oliver impatient for his own turn, come storming in to occupy the same water as you. You turned off your mind, hurrying to dry off and slip into your pj's. A giant shirt that you decided had counted as a night gown.

Then, you headed out of the door that led to Felix's room. Oliver and he sat there playing the same game of cards and sharing a smoke.

"Your turn, Ollie." You announced, not missing the way his eyes racked up your figure as you walked closer to the pair. Oliver mumbled something of agreement, moving to take his turn cleaning up.

Felix thanked you for his fresh beverage and beat you in the next round of cards. Frustrated, you challenged him to another, to competitive to leave it at that.

Felix waved you over to play his turn. You told him to wait as you got up to mix more drinks. Apparently Felix had already caught up to being as tipsy as the rest of you. And there were no classes to worry about the next day. So you saw no harm in getting smashed as possible.

Oliver wasn't long away, stepping into the room to continue the game. But it had only been for two, until now.

"We can be a team Ollie," You waved him over, figuring since you'd played his last hand, it made sense.

"Not fair. But I like the challenge." Felix grinned. Oliver shrugged and insisted you get up from the chair you occupied, swiftly guiding you to sit on his lap all the while. This wasn't unusual, as the three of you had blurred the lines of physical touch before hand. Always grabbing and pulling each other every which way, sharing small sofas for movie nights, jumping on each other's backs on walks home from the pub.

"Shall we raise the steaks? Make it a betting game?" Oliver venured to wonder.

"Not enough money to play around like that." You warned. Felix shrugged.

"Strip poker?"

"Would take too long to get exciting." You pointed, imagining the game dragging on between the three of you.

"If Felix loses he's got to strip. All the way! If we lose," You gestured between yourself and Oliver, "Oliver has to kiss you. Tounge and all." You dared, drunk by that point.

"I'd kiss Felix any day of the week." Ollie declared, tracing your side, peering up at you.

"How come you're not participating in any of these scenarios love?" Felix pouted, looking to you with a raised brow.

"Is it getting hot in here ot what?" You joked buylt felt the tension of the room rise undeniably. That same old weight that hung between the three of you since the night you'd all gathered around the pub table.

"Think that may just be you, doll. In that sexy little night shirt." Felix flirted, casting you a smile as Oliver's fingers dared to rest just under the hem of your clothing.

The game went on, then, terms and conditions being agreed, too. The round flew by in almost silence, like there wasn't anything worth saying until a score was decided. Then Felix played the winning hand.

"Losers! Im now owed a kiss." The posh boy boasted, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms all smug.

"Fine. C'mre, then." Oliver waved to the guy, keeping a firm hold on your placement in his lap. Felix chuckled, and moved to lean over as if he was anticipating this moment. Then, right before your eyes, Felix pressed his lips to Oliver's, leaving a lingering peck there. He broke it off with another small laugh. But before he could sit back again, you spoke up.

"You can do better than that." You jested, not the steamy dare you had in mind. Reaching for the drink you'd made, Felix turned his gaze toward you, rasing a brow and a grin. The he turned his sights back to Oliver who gave a nod of consent.

Felix kissed Oliver again, closing his mouth to the boys and slipping a tongue in for good measure. When it ended, another was shared, even more passionate than you'd expected to see.

"Well now I just feel left out." You quipped, tightening your grip on Oliver's neck as the boys ceased their dare.

Felix just laughed and turned his hooded gaze to meet yours.

"Awe, wanna have your own turn, love?" He cooed, resting his hand on one of Oliver's knees that wasn't supporting your weight.

"Passing out your affections quite freely tonight." You half joked, looking into Felix's deep ember eyes.

"Only if you want. Won't be jealous will ya Ollie?"

"I can share." The man holding your frame responded as Felix pressed his smile to your mouth. You let him kiss you, slowly and sweetly. You kissed him back as your brain whirled around trying to figure out if this was all a dream.

"In order to share, Ollie, you've got to have a turn as well." You encouraged in a low tone.

"Will you let me have one?" He rang, right in your ear. His fingers were tracing lines up the sides of you, below the shirt you wore as a nightgown.

"I'll let the pair of you do whatever you please." You dared to hint.

"Now that's an interesting offer." Oliver smiled, looking up at you, those damn blue eyes seeing right into your soul.

"Kiss her." Felix whispered in a demanding tone, still only am inch away from you. Oliver looked down to your lips and waited for you to make an ever so slight move forward. And then his lips were curled against yours. His arm was snug around your waist. Your brain was still trying to catch up. Oliver kissed you with intention, waiting for you to match his pace then deepening his affections. It wasn't long before his kisses moved to bite against your neck.

That gave you the chance to turn your eyes to Felix, who sat watching with his teeth digging into his bottom lip. You let your eyes fall to his grip that remained on Oliver's knee. And then you caught a glimpse of the buldge in his joggers. Your eyes dared to meet Felix's once more, offering him a sultry grin.

"Alright." Felix seemed to decide, moving to stand. All of a sudden, he was gently pulling you from Oliver's lap, and over toward the bed.

"Get on your knees Oliver Quick." Felix demanded, grinning all the while. Oliver was speechless, but wasted no time obeying orders, bending to kneel before the bed. It didn't shock you thar Felix started calling shots. He was often the the decision maker of the group.

He asked if he could take off your underwear as his fingers already hooked the hem. You were nodding faster than you could think, excitement raving through your body.

Felix turned you around, pulled your back flush against him; and sat down nice and easy. You perched perfectly in his lap, registering his excitement prodding against your back side as Felix draped your legs over his, opening you up to Oliver.

The boy kneeling before you rose his hands to your thighs, letting his palms soothing your skin there.

"You sure? I mean about... all of this?" Oliver wondered, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"I want this. Whatever tonight has to offer, I want you both."

Oliver nodded and whispered okay. And then he leaned closer. When his lips met your core, his breath was hot. When his kiss pressed against you, the burning coil of desire in your belly sprung out of control.

Felix kept busy by kissing you neck and letting his hands wander up your shirt to your breasts, kneading away. The mix of feelings and attention made your every nerve stand on end.

Oliver let his tongue lap at your middle and gazed up at you with those piercing blue eyes. You carded a hand through his hair and struggled not to pull him closer against you, desperate for something fiercer. But still, the steady swirl of his tongue worked up a whimper you couldn't restrain.

"Well done Ollie. Now come up here with us." Felix purred, stopping the other boy from making you squirm. Oliver broke his kiss from your middle and stood as he was told. Felix went on to raise you from his lap, tugging at the shirt you still wore. After he asked nicely, you shrugged it off with a smile. Felix pulled you back to the bed then, propping you against the pillows.

"Tops off lover boy." Felix winked at Oliver who was in the midst of crawling to join you on the bed. As the dark eyed boy whipped his tee off his form, Oliver was moving slower. The bare chested Felix grinned wider and helped Oliver with the last steps of taking his shirt off. Then he pushed the blue eyed boy against the pillows at your side.

"Well that was nice." You cooed, eagerly turning to face the guy, reaching out to trace patterns against his chest.

"And I was only getting started." Oliver smiled and let his eyes fall across your bare form. You nearly blushed under his observation. Oliver had this way of looking at you and making you feel like the only person alive on earth. As you turned your eyes down, you saw Felix ripping off Oliver's shorts and biting a kiss to his hips.

That gave you the chance to reach a hand out to press against Oliver's underwear. Fitting his clothed length in your grasp, Oliver whined in your ear. All the while, Felix had moved to trail kisses across your stomach. It wasn't long before his lips found your core, moving more greedily than Oliver had.

Your breath caught as Felix lapped at your middle, shouldering closer to suck and lick the most delicate part of you like it was his last meal.

"Oh, fuck Felix." You gasped, shocked by how quickly and easily he'd worked you up to nearly exploding. Oliver was peppering kissed on your breast as you left a palm close enough for him to grind on.

With a few more fervent swipes of his tongue, you started to mutter something of a warning. And that's when Felix stopped. You let out a frustrated groan as he shot you a salacious grin.

"Poor thing... has he not let you finish?" Oliver breathed in your ear. All at once, he reached down to slip a finger down to the middle of you. "Let me fix that."

As Oliver moved his fingers to swirl against the hilt if your core, Felix settled at your side, dancing his fingers down to slide a couple of digits inside of you. He found a steady pace to pump in and out of you as Oliver widened and quickened the circles his fingers drew.

"We'll let you come now, pretty girl. Can't say no when I'm watching you squirm like this." Felix said, kissing your neck. Then his fingers curled to press deep inside as he drove his digits still.

You let out a cry reaching to grip Oliver's hair as you felt his smile widen while he kissed your cheek.

Between Oliver's strokes and Felix' prodding, there was no stopping the orgasm that wracked your body. Your lower half trembled as you craned your neck, struggling to keep quiet, still mindful of the house full of people two floors away, somehow.

"That's better isn't it, darlin'?" Oliver cooed. As both men rose their hands, Oliver reached over. The fingers Felix had buried in you found their way into Oliver's mouth. The boys shared an absolutely salacious glance as you laid there coming back to reality, trying to comprehend how you wound up here.

"Wanna find out how much fun being denied something feels, Felix?" Oliver wondered, his tone dark and anxious.

"Thought you never ask." Felix grinned, shifting a little so his hips were facing the ceiling now.

As you laid catching your breath, Oliver bent over you to yank Felix shorts and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Without missing a beat, Oliver's mouth was full of Felix. The possessive manner in which Oliver sucked off the dark eyed boy had the towering fellow muttering curses right of the bat.

Felix's fingers reached for something to ground him, landing on your thigh. His digits clawed against your skin, while Oliver slowed his efforts to tease. You saw on the other side of you, the blue eye'd boys hips wriggling for their own release, as Felix let out an ungodly moan.

And just like that, Oliver pulled away, leaving Felix a carnal mess.

"Right, Ollie, I think your turn is long over due, lay back." You decided. You let your hands reach for his shoulders, pulling Oliver back to the pillows once more. You tried to move slow. To not give away how eager you were for this to continue. To mull through the motions like this was something you'd expected to happen tonight. But your stomach was aflame with want and your heart hammered with excitement and your brian buzzed loud as it tried to process that this was really happening. The boys you'd been growing closer to all year had decided to cross the final line. To make your actual daydreams come true.

Slowly, as planned, you sat up to sling your leg over Oliver's hips. Your straddle hovered as your hand reached to find his length, finally revealing it from under his knickers. With ease, you slid down. You pressed your teeth to your bottom lip and watched Oliver's bright blue eyes disappear as they rolled back in his head.

"Fuck that's hot." Felix chimed from the side, as you moved your hips at a steady pace. You'd only just begun as Oliver melted into the mattress. But his limbs tensed in no time, and his reflexes moved to sit the both of you up more. Oliver's strong arms pushed you from his lap and turned you over in one swift move. His execution of this change in position was so swift that you hadn't even processed that he'd slid into you all at once. With more fever, on his knees behind you, Oliver fucked into you hard and fast. You'd never felt so fucking good, you thought, so quickly, so suddenly.

You buried your head in the mattress and let out a hoarse cry, reveling in every second that Oliver rammed himself into you. Then you felt Felix's fingers again. They danced through your hair and tugged until your head lifted and your eyes met his. With a smile, you watched as Felix rose a brow. And you knew what he wanted. You knew what he was asking. You responded by reaching out to take Felix's well hardened length in your grasp, waiting for him to inch closer so your mouth could do the rest of the work.

Oliver was relentless, bruising your hips in his grasp as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow. He panted and growled and worked his body like he was forced by pure instinct. You knew he'd been bold in the past but he'd always been more calculated and restrained around you until now. Now was unprecedented. Now was so glorious.

Felix whined as you dragged your tongue across the most sensitive part of him. He begged for you to keep up your efforts. He begged to be able to come. Felix's yammering seemed to fuel Oliver's efforts behind you. And it wasn't long until the blue eye'd boy rutted against you in a jagged way, just before ripping away to release across your back. You kept up minding Felix as Oliver seemed to drag a tshirt across your skin, cleaning up the evidence. You hopped it wasn't your tshirt.

Felix followed suit soon after, holding your head against his crotch as he came undone. You were quick to swallow and slow to pull away. Felix let his fingers card through your hair once more as he laid catching his breath, smiling despite the furrow in his brow.

You let your back fall to the mattress, turning to find Oliver crashed there too, eyes fluttering closed, exhausted.

"You'll sleep well." You huffed a small chuckle, letting your knuckles brush across the apple of his cheek. Oliver grinned in response. The boy kept his eyes closed as he reached to grab the hand you rested on his face. Oliver pressed your knuckles to his lips for a kiss.

Felix hummed to concur, rolled over and slung an arm around your middle, weighing you down in a comfortable way. Your body settled into the mattress, a numb tingle still trickling through your nervous system. The boys that cocooned you lay silently, breathing steadily.

You laid awake for a while, as they fell asleep on either side of you. The first night in Felix's summer mansion was nothing short of spectacular. But there were three weeks left in the break. And many long days that waited ahead. And something told you things were about to get messier and messier...

───※ ·❆· ※───

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI !! Oliver Quick x reader x Michael Gavey

♡ Bimbo! Reader letting Oliver and Michael take turns on her

♡ Like ughh. It starts out at a party where the both of them are sulking in a corner. Two losers with no friends and slightly obsessive personalities trying to socialize? No way, no way

♡ Until you come along, all pretty and pink, tits out and underwear peeking out of your skirt. And they’re both drooling as they see you, embarrassed to look at each other because of the obvious hard ons they have

♡ And you’re a little airheaded, but you aren’t dumb, per se— you got into Oxford, for christs sake! — so you notice their wavering glances

♡ Introducing yourself to them, asking if you can sit down. The both of them parting like the red fucking sea to let you take a seat between them on some random frat boy’s stained couch. Your bubbly personality enticing the both of them as you tell them your name and about how you had seen them both around

♡ Going on a rant about how you and them are similar — you have companions, but they aren’t close ones, and you came to this party alone. Besides a few frat boys (with ill intentions), no one really wants to be your friend. Call it stuck up rich kid attitude, or whatever

♡ And they nod along, palming their bulges in their jeans like fucking pervs. Nasty, icky boys

♡ You don’t notice until a few minutes in, and looking down at each side of your thighs and into their laps, you let out a sweet little giggle

♡ Teasing the fuck out of them, all while they’re completely flustered as hell and stuttering out apologies. But you just shrug them off, tell them it’s okay

♡“If you want.. I can help? I’m good with my mouth and… other stuff. At least, that’s what my ex boyfriends said! We can go in a room upstairs, ‘m sure the guy who owns this house won’t mind.”

♡(It’s Felix’s house. He does mind, thank you very much, and is sickened by the sight he sees in his bedroom the next morning)

♡ Oliver and Michael are at loss for words at such a simple offer. Awkwardly nodding their heads, they refuse to aknowledge the other’s existence as you grab their hands and lead them upstairs

♡ When you get into one of the rooms, you shut and lock the door. Your lips find Oliver’s first, because he’s the closest. He kisses you rough, desperate. Not a virgin, but not completely experienced either. Probably a drunken fumble with a girl in high school, nothing more

♡ When you kiss Michael, he’s so soft. Like, insanely soft. Lips and touch alike. His hand finds your cheek and he holds your head in his hands when he does it. It’s sweet. Definitely a virgin

♡ You push them both onto the bed, and your fingers nimbly play with the zipper on your pink top. They both watch in wonder as you pull it down, sliding the shirt off your shoulders. No bra .

♡ Both literally gaping, mouths wide open, as they stare at your tits

♡“They’re nice, right? I think they’re my favorite part about me, honestly.”

♡ And then comes your skirt. Short, so they know the color of your underwear already (bubblegum pink)

♡ They both gape as you slide it down, revealing yourself to them so effortlessly. You tilt your head as you ask them to take their clothes off, too

♡ It’s instant. Buttons are undone as quick as lightening, shirts fly to the floor. Underwear is pushed past their ankles. They don’t even care at this point what the other is doing. The only thing in their focus is you

♡ Sliding your panties down, you step out of them and make your way over to the bed. You get on your hands and knees in front of them, pussy exposed and wet, looking back with a smile

♡ “Which one wants to go first?”

♡ Oliver is the braver one, since he has more experience

♡ His cock brushes up against your entrance, clumsily slipping against you. Michael watches, stroking himself with a shaky breath

♡ Oliver sheathes himself in you in one go, whining at your heat, his hands dig into your hips as he begins to thrust into you

♡ He’s not gentle, really. Not even close. He pounds into you, desperate and only thinking of his own aching dick as he splits you open. Mouth agape, sounds tumble out of your glossed lips as he pounds you into mattress

♡“Mmm, give it to me, give it t’me, just like that.”

♡ You’re moaning like a pornstar, feeling every drag and every ridge of him. His fingertips leave crescent moons in your hips, painting your skin with pretty indents of his infatuation

♡ Michael moves to your side and presses a warm kiss to your mouth. His cock sits big and heavy against his stomach, and you try to reach out and touch it but he slaps your hand away

♡ Is he getting a bit cocky? Maybe. He must be doing something right if he’s getting to screw a girl like you

♡ That’s probably why his big hand curls into your hair and he yanks your head back so he can slip his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. Spit slick lips collide against sticky red ones, making a smear of divine crimson. Oliver, groaning and pent up, is close. So incredibly, undoubtedly close

♡ With a tiny cry, you try to guide him towards his release

♡“It’s good, yeah? My pussy’s so warm ‘n tight for you, Ollie. Cmon, want you to fill me up, want it so bad..”

♡ He can’t say no to that, spilling inside you with a deep stutter of his hips

♡ Michael watches in excitement.

♡ Absolutely fucking insane for that pussy, I’m telling you !!

♡ Practically throws Oliver out of the way to get at you. Watching the way your little hole gushes creamy white cum, he can’t help but push into it

♡ It’s warm, sticky, wet. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt

♡ Whimpers as he presses all the way in. He’s a little bit bigger than Oliver, and your cunt burns from the stretch

♡ But it’s nothing you can’t handle. Your ten inch dildos can vouch for that

♡ Oh, Michael is needy

♡ Needy, needy, needy

♡ The way he fucks— rutting into you like an animal, while also cooing to you as Oliver presses his thumb against your tongue— makes your vision practically white out

♡ Oliver isn’t a completely selfish boy, of course, and his fingers reach down and rub your clit

♡ It surprises you. Usually they pump and dump. You guess he’s just different because he’s a loser

♡ Michael spears his dick against that spongey spot inside you, and you mewl, fucking back onto him with an avaricious intensity

♡ He doesn’t last as long as Oliver, but that’s okay

♡ He’s a virgin, after all. You wouldn’t expect him to

♡ And ughhh when fills you up :(

♡ It’s so precious, the way he whimpers as he releases inside

♡ Oliver just watches, a smirk on his face

♡ The sick fucking freak is already hard again

♡ Ready to go another round

♡ The minute Michael pulls out, Oliver is behind you and you’re being used again

♡ It’s okay, though. You have all night for the two of them to abuse your little cunt <3 they’re pretty boys, after all. And pretty boys deserve to indulge in sweet, creamy pussy

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi

[girlboybug]

Haunted

“my wicked tongue, where will it be, i know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me.”

or the one where it’s halloween at saltburn and you and farleigh ditch the party downstairs to celebrate with a little weed in your bedroom.

what’s playing 🎧: haunted by beyoncé

pairing : farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

*UNEDITED*

word count : 6k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, virgin!reader, bi coded! reader, heavy petting, grinding and dry humping, oral f!receiving, mentions of fingering, mentions of blowjobs, little bit of tip sucking oops, handjobs, light hair pulling, boob worship, sub coded farleigh for two seconds, smidge of overstimulation

TRIGGER WARNINGS : both reader and farleigh are high when they engage in the sexual activity but it’s all consensual they’re both equally high, ummmmmmmm hints of slut shaming in the beginning by farleigh but it’s not fr fr bc his ass is mother slut let’s be honest

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME TO YOU :3!

a/n : comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments <3

venetia and felix are nowhere to be found amidst the neon mess of bodies that inhabit every orifice of what was once an almost eerily quiet and empty corridor just this morning.

leaving you to be doomed to a fate of enduring a poorly put together semblance of…you think frankenstein, having a one sided conversation with you. “can i get you another drink?” he asks over the booming music and for the first time in the entire interaction you smile a genuine smile, nodding with urgency. “god yes—please,” you respond eagerly, handing him back your cup. he takes it with an undeserving great sense of pride, and you exhale with relief once he disappears from your line of vision, hoping he loses you in the crowd.

“interesting costume choice,” a familiar, annoying, voice comments behind you. without even turning around yet, you find yourself rolling your eyes. you give him a once over and scoff. his fangs protrude from his smile, and you wish it looked cartoonish and stupid, but alas, he unfortunately looks good. really good. but over your dead body would you ever admit that.

fake blood is dribbled from the corners of his mouth and two neat dots rest near his pulse on the side of his neck. a brow rises and crinkles your forehead, aiding in the faux judgment you cast upon him.

“rich coming from the guy who’s wearing the most generic costume known to man.” you retort back, subconsciously withholding a level of snideness. you like the build of veiled insults you two toss back and forth, it’s never fun if you start off too strong. you enjoy the way you both ease into it. it’s a flow you’ve both unknowingly created for each other.

his head shifts to the side when he rolls his eyes and exhales under his breath, and your heart falters just a little lower within your ribcage when you see a bright red kiss stain on his jaw.

“it’s in reference to bram stoker’s dracula, a classic piece of literature, but you?” his eyes flicker over you, a little upward curve growing in the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d be better than defaulting to a sexy version of marie antoinette.” he folds his arms over his chest, peering down at you, unbeknownst to the excitement that bubbles in the depths of his chest as he awaits whatever response you’re brewing in your head to bite back with.

heat plants itself like a seed in the pit of your stomach and extends its branches through your chest and fans over your cheeks at his observation. a hefty cloud of pride quickly replacing it when his words ring through your head again.

he thinks i look sexy?

“i’m not a sexy marie antoinette. i’m just the normal version of her.” you reply with a sense of smugness, seemingly stealing his. a panicked look of ‘oh fuck’ flashes across his face, and he tries to save face, to seem cool and collected. but you didn’t miss it for one second. and you’ll be damned if you let go of the one time farleigh let himself falter in front of you.

“i meant slutty.” he replies cooly, and you nod, a stupid grin on your face that he wishes he could wipe off. “you called me sexy.” your grin only grows and he’s already rolling

his eyes once more. “i know no one compliments you like you wish they would, so anything that remotely sounds like one is enough for you to latch onto, but i promise,” he steps forward and leans his neck downward towards you, not bothering to bend down to meet your height. “i meant slutty.”

a rush of something you don’t want to distinguish floods the shoreline of your lower stomach and trickles heat between your inner thighs at the way he speaks to you, but you hide it, barely allowing yourself to even acknowledge it. “the biggest slut i know calling someone else slutty, that’s rich,” you internally groan, knowing your reply wasn’t as witty as you’d intended.

before farleigh can verbally retaliate, your name is called out and you recognize who it belongs to; your charming frankenstein. you panic for a moment, dreading being back in conversation with him and you glance up at farleigh, hurriedly switching your bodies around, successfully shielding yourself with his stature.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing what you’re using him for. he laughs and you smack his back, hushing him. while you hide behind him you take the fleeting moments you have to outline his broad shoulders with your eyes, and how they trail into a slim little waist. his perfectly tailored suit hugs him just right, and it makes your throat get a little tight. you never took the time to notice farleigh’s physique, rather opting to semi-playfully belittle him. you find hints of regret in that.

he turns back around to face you and you snap back into the present, not the paused moment in which saltburn was empty and all that occupied it was you and farleigh and his broad back and small waist. “coast is clear.” he says, switching his weight onto one foot. “frankenstein? really?” he seems unimpressed, almost… irritated? you’re unsure.

you grumble and smooth down the invisible wrinkles in your corset. “don’t start.” but he does anyway.

“didn’t know that was your type.”

“what?”

“somewhat stupid looking, bumbling.”

“what’s it matter to you?” you ask, wondering how far he’ll go with his dissertation on why the guy he has zero knowledge on is an idiot. “it doesn’t. it’s just getting a bit sad seeing that the only people who are interested in you are so…lacking.”

you suck on your teeth and nod, shrugging before you reply. “least i’m not fucking my teachers.” he heartily laughs, sticking his tongue in the bottom corner of his lip. “and yet, they all still trump your sorry excuses of flings.”

you open your mouth to correct him but you shut yourself up before you embarrass yourself. instead you just shake your head dismissively.

you perk up when you remember a little secret pick me up you’ve been hiding. you reach into your cleavage, unaware of the way the sight stirs something inside of farleigh. you pull out the joint you tucked away for safe keeping, waving it with an offering smile. “wanna share?” you ask and he chuckles in shock at the proposition. “weed? you’re a pothead now?” you sigh annoyedly and glare up at him. “you wanna share or not? quick before i change my mind.” he smirks and nods, eyeing the joint then you. “i’ll oblige.”

he follows you to your room, holding your waist to wade through the pool of people, with you flush against him. you ignore the way his hands mold around your waist, his long fingers curled across your dress, and you especially ignore how you can feel his rings through the thin material of your dress. definitely not wondering how they’d feel on your bare skin.

no, definitely not.

—

you lean against the open window of your bedroom with the joint, not wanting to taint the air with the stench, knowing elspeth’s keen nose would immediately clock it the moment she walks into your room.

farleigh coughs a lot more than you would’ve expected him to and it makes you beam with a feeling of superiority. “you smoke like half a pack of cigarettes every day, how on earth is this making you cough so hard?” you snicker, handing him a water bottle you keep by your bed.

he glares at you, taking a hefty swig from your bottle, setting it down before extending his hand back out for the joint, determined to prove a point. “forgive me for not being used to smoking weed, unlike you, you addict,” he mutters through an exhale of smoke.

you actually guffaw at his snippy little reply, for once in shock of something he has to say. “me? an addict? weed is probably the most harmless drug like—ever, whereas you, keep a keychain of literal cocaine on you almost at all times.”

he hates that he happens to have exactly what you just said on his person in this very moment. he tucks it away into his pocket and huffs. “i just do it socially, you’re probably up here all the time smoking alone like a loser by the window,” he has an infuriating self satisfied smirk when he speaks to you and you laugh sardonically, nodding along.

“well,” you say, taking in a hit, and letting it gently fan over his face when you exhale. “no one’s forcing you to engage in something apparently so below you,” you motion towards the door with a lazy jab of your head. “doors that way if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

he remains unfaltered in your cloud of smoke, letting it envelope him. he breathes it in, leaning against the windowsill. “do you want me to leave?”

“i always do.” you don’t miss a beat, a look that tells him you don’t really mean it is thinly covered with a fake smile, eliciting a chuckle from him through pursed lips.

“i don’t believe you.” he murmurs when he inches back toward you, plucking the joint from your fingers. he takes another hit, it’s smoother, he’s more in control of it, and something flutters inside you seeing the way he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke out the window.

“you’re insufferable,” you say hushedly, gently. he chuckles quietly, handing you the joint. “and yet you keep me around anyway.”

“not by choice.”

—

as the night rages on, the joint you both share dwindles down into a dull roach. you crush the bud into your porcelain ashtray, tucking it away and beneath your nightstand.

your legs feel a little wobbly, your body has significantly loosened up and your center of gravity feels a bit off, but you feel good, and it seems farleigh feels the same. his eyes are low and hooded, they look a little red — it’s cute, kind of endearing too but you keep that to yourself like a bashful secret. his face and overall demeanor seems to be relaxed as well, a lot more loosened up than he was just an hour prior.

you smile at him, and there’s nothing hidden under the action, there’s no cover up for anything. you’re just happy to be with him in a moment like this. and he returns it to you, full sentiment and all, filling you with a sense of contentment. “feel nice?” you ask breathily, collapsing onto your bed. he joins you, plopping down beside you when he replies. “mmhm. i like it,” he says, his voice sounding a bit rougher from the smoke, like he’s on the edge of a rasp.

you shuffle around to lay on your side, your palm supporting the weight of your head, settling into a comfortable position. he copies your actions, switching around on his side to properly face you.

he looks beautiful with the way the moon creeps in through your parted window, the pale light complements the highlights in his curls and makes them look golden; he looks golden. but when your eyes fall on the taunting red kiss splayed on his jaw, everything turns back to copper.

“who gave you this?” you question him quietly, sadly. like it physically hurts you to ask him. your fingers hover just above the lipstick stain, unable to get yourself to touch it. in your induced state you’ve convinced yourself that if you were to ever touch farleigh’s face, it won’t be in the spot someone else tarnished with their own touch first.

“why?” he answers your question with another question and you huff under your breath, your filter too worn out from the weed to hide your frustration behind a poker face. “why can’t i ask?” you push a little further and he snickers lazily. “why do you wanna know?” he counters and you roll your heavy eyes, letting yourself fall onto your back once more.

he scoots closer to you, angling his neck to look downward at you, and he pouts with faux concern. “you jealous?” he asks, perking up and leaning towards you with a beaming smirk. you scoff, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn to look away. the proximity of your faces is too much to bear, but not for him, his index and thumb guide you right back by your chin to face him. he keeps your gaze on him in place, his wide palm cupping your cheek. your skin tingles under the coldness from his rings.

now you know what it feels like, you think to yourself.

“tell me which one it is,” he says through a hushed exhale, leaning on his elbow, his eyes still angled down at you challengingly. “are you jealous of me, because — why wouldn’t you be,” he hums, his fingers ghosting over your temple.

and when he speaks again, you find that he’s moved in a lot closer now. “or of whoever left it?” his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to answer him.

your mouth goes even dryer than you thought it could, and you’re unsure of what to say, what to think, and between the lack of space between both of your lips and the questions he’s asking, you’re left frazzled. scrambling for something, anything to say.

you’re not sure how to reply, you’re shocked he even asked that to begin with, and now it’s your turn to visibly falter in front of him. he looks at you expectantly, and a little part of him feels as though he’s won some mini challenge in your ongoing battle to embarrass the other. but there’s a different type of smugness in his small victory, perhaps a confirmation on something he’d been wondering about for awhile.

“i’m not jealous of either of you,” your voice falls upon a faint breath and his brows push together, nodding patronizingly. “oh i’m sure.” he pushes a little harder on your buttons, waiting for when you finally do something about it.

“why would i be jealous of someone who gets with just anybody?” you add, sitting up on your elbows, unintentionally leaning in closer, engaging him in the push and pull. he follows your flow in motion, inching in closer, just a little, keeping the space between you both minimal. he laughs softly from the center of his belly, flicking a brow up. “versus what? someone who doesn’t get with anyone? sounds boring.” he adds, tilting his head, your noses brushing against each other’s. “boring is better than whatever you bring back home at night.” his chuckle falls across your lips at your response, and you find yourself parting your lips to breathe him in.

“are you admitting to having a non-existent sex life? i’d say i’m shocked but i’m not,” he replies, his voice at the tail-end of a whisper. a hazy, knowing smile begins to rise in the corner of his lips.

you take in a deep breath, smoothing out the duvet beneath your palms as you reply without a second thought to what you’re confessing to. “i’d rather get none than contract every std ever by fucking everyone who roams the halls at oxford,”

farleigh laughs initially, taking your playful jab before he pauses and looks at you a bit more seriously. a little too serious for your liking. it makes you burn up and inwardly panic. did you say something wrong? go too far?

“but you’ve had sex before…right?” he asks to clarify, sitting up a little straighter now. the burning sensation in your cheeks only heightens now. “um,” you’re once again left wondering how to reply but your pause acts as his answer alone. he sits all the way up now and you groan when you begin to hear the gears in his head shifting.

he says your name like he’s awestruck and you grab a pillow, pretending to suffocate yourself with it. he tosses it off of you and pulls you up to look at him. “you’ve really never…done it?” he asks again, unbelieving to this revelation. normally he’d find this to be a jackpot, chock full of new material to use against you. but right now he’s in too much disbelief to act on any of it.

“no,” you huff, avoiding his stare. “why not?” he asks, lowering his voice in a softer tone this time. “dunno,” you shrug. “no one really caught my eye enough to actually want to do it, and then you know college rolled around and i was just too busy for it.”

he half scoffs half laughs but it all stems from shock. “it’s impossible to be too busy for sex,” he opposes seriously, and you laugh dryly.

“yeah for you, but i actually care about my grades,” he shakes his head, shooing any topic of academics away. “yeah yeah whatever,” he waves you off, as if he’s clearing the air for his next round of questions. “you’ve at least kissed someone right—“ you’re shutting him up with a pillow thrown against his chest and he laughs, pushing it out of the way. ”of course i have farleigh, don’t be stupid,” you laugh, embarrassment still blooming in the depths of your chest.

“i had to check!” he says defensively and your embarrassment grows when you realize he really was genuinely asking, meaning it’s plausible that no one’s ever kissed you.

god.

you bury your face in the pillow that acted as your weapon just seconds ago, unable to face him.

his laughter rings pleasantly in your ears, his hands prying you away from the pillow, wanting to see you. “have you done…anything at all?” he asks, like it’s sensitive information he’s pulling from you. he’s gentler when he questions you, easing you into the topic. you nod, biting on your thumbnail as you recollect your sparse experiences.

“tell me about them,” he says, leaning back on both elbows, still turned to face you. you rest on your stomach, your forearms supporting your weight, situating yourself to share your run ins with fleeting intimacy. “well, it was freshman year back at oxford, some guy i think his name was theo—“

“theo wright?”

“uh yeah i think so—“

“well there’s your first mistake.” he says matter of factly, his words dying down towards the end when he sees your irritated expression.

“can i finish please?” you glare and he laughs, nodding. “is what you probably asked him right?” you stifle the laugh that almost slips out, opting to narrow your eyes at him annoyedly instead. “shush.” you huff.

“anyways, i’m not sure, i think it may have been at some dumb welcoming freshman’s party and we went upstairs and we kissed in some guy’s bed and he rubbed my inner thigh for like 5 minutes, completely under the impression he was touching my clit.” you can barely make it through the description of your time with theo without farleigh doubling over and laughing, nudging your arm with his head.

“oh my god that’s good,” he exhales at the end of his laughter, pretending to wipe a tear from the corners of his eyes. “you poor thing,” he sighs, patting your cheek. “and did you say anything? like…guide him to the right direction maybe?” you shake your head dejectedly. “no. i had to pretend to cum so he would stop.” you admit, the regret from that night pinging through you.

farleigh coos at you apologetically, stifling a laugh in the process, “poor baby,” he hums, patting your cheek. his ringed pinky casts away an imaginary strand of hair, finding any excuse there is to be near you, to touch you.

you melt under his touch, fighting the urge to lean into it. “that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a hook up?” he asks, fully focused on you, making you a bit nervous from all his attention being directed at you. there’s no audience to perform your shared act for, it’s just you and him, and you think you like this change of pace.

you shake your head, laying back against the headboard, resting your legs across farleigh’s, to which he welcomes without hesitation, throwing an arm over them casually.

“i had one more. it was with noa…” you trail off, a bit shyer expressing this particular experience. farleigh however is nowhere near shy, the word is nowhere near his vocabulary, instead his interest has been piqued and it’s visible in the way his ears just about perk. “wait, girl noa or boy noah—uh keaton or deacon?”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the muffled thrum of music fill the air before you speak again. “keaton.”

he laughs, shocked but impressed, his tongue poking the hollow curve of his cheek as he nods. “noa keaton, interesting...” he repeats back, mostly to himself, somewhat in awe.

“don’t be weird about it,” you groan and he shakes his head, rubbing your calf comfortingly. “no no i’m not i just wasn’t expecting that. good for you though,” he winks at you and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah. anyways she um…she fingered me in the library,” a fluttery feeling lines your stomach at the memory and farleigh catches onto your pauses, noticing a more positive physical reaction when you mention her. “yeah? was it good?” he asks lowly, his voice huskier than it was a moment ago and you nod, leaning your head against the cold wooden headboard. “it was—thankfully; she actually knew what to do, you know?” he nods, chuckling. “makes sense. did you get to finish that time?” he asks as if he’s actually concerned, and the way his hand keeps running up and down your legs makes you feel as if he just might be.

you’re not used to discussing such topics with farleigh, it’s unfamiliar and his bluntness and shamelessness in being open with how curious he is as to whether or not someone has made you cum is catching you off guard, but most concerningly, it’s making you ache. “no,” you finally answer, sighing sadly. “almost did. but we also almost got caught and then you know, she dropped out. haven’t heard from her since.”

you expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. he takes a moment of silence and it acts as yet another surprise tonight; farleigh is capable of being quiet.

“so you haven’t had any experiences worth writing home about then, huh?” he verges on a whisper, his voice cradling the sides of your face, guiding your eyes back to his. you nod and he hums in tune to something similar of patronizing. “let alone any real ones,” he adds, his thumb swirling over your knee. you shrug lightly, anxiously fiddling with the ruffles at the skirt of your dress.

“do you want one?” he asks, his eyes keeping you still in place and you gasp silently, swallowing thickly. “want what?” you manage to reply, your nerves blanketing over you. “a good experience.” he answers lowly.

you stare at him for a second, unsure if he’s really just said what he said, but in the case that he did, you nod like you’ve been entranced by a siren song. but with the way farleigh looks at you when he speaks, with such an intensity and power that never allows you to look away, you feel as though you might as well have been.

he smiles at your agreement, sliding his hand down to your ankle and tugging you towards him. you gasp, yelping with low volume as you slide down your bed. he pulls you in close, climbing further into your bed until he’s on top of you.

his hooded eyes peer down at you, drinking you all in, so beautiful and pliable beneath him. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running along it and smearing your lipstick across your chin. he dips between your lips, smirking to himself when you kiss the pad of it.

he pulls away leaning downward until his nose nudges yours. “tell me i can kiss you,” he tells you, his words fanning out against your lips, and you nearly moan from the proximity itself. “i want you to kiss me.” you whisper back and you sweat you see a smile on his lips before they’re on yours.

you moan with relief, embarrassingly desperate to have farleigh on you. you’re chest to chest, lips interlocked with his cock pressed up against your clothed crotch, grinding lightly.

he groans in your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip as if it were secreting nectar. he’s starved from the weed consumption, and all those months of this incessant back and forth you two shared is all coming back full force. you can feel it in how hard he kisses you and the hunger that lies underneath it all.

his hand travels from the back of your knee, gliding over your leg and up your thigh, squeezing your hip when his hand finds purchase there. he ruts into you in waves, breaking apart from your lips, much to your dismay, to kiss and nip at your neck, rinsing you of the disappointment from the momentary lack of closeness.

“farleigh,” you breath out, your knees locking him in on either side of his hips, pushing up to meet his grinding motions. “what baby?” he mumbles, raspy and heavy and it makes your clit throb. “feels s’good,” you sigh lazily, arching your back into his chest. he chuckles, his ego rising with every little moan you give him.

“better than what theo did?” he asks, pushing his bulge right up against your clit, and you whimper, nodding stupidly. his signet ring tickles you through your thin panty hose when he inches closer between your thighs. your breath stops in the middle of your throat as he nears your cunt. “can i touch?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. you moan under your breath, nodding. “please?” you beg, heavy eyes of yours gazing at him from beneath your eyelashes, lips pouted desperately.

he doesn’t make you ask again, he’ll save that for another endeavor he hopes you two will indulge in again. for now he’ll give you what you want without making you work for it. at least, too hard.

he rubs you through your panty hose, sucking in a sharp breath. “fuckin’ soaked through baby,” he groans, kissing you hard.

the wind in your lungs has abandoned you, the air in the room playing cat and mouse with you amid your struggle to keep up. farleigh’s touches making the feat all the more increasingly difficult. he sends you one last kiss on your lips, sponging one to your chin, then down your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

“can i take this off?” he murmurs, his chin just beneath your sternum, fingers toying with the laces of your corset. you rest on your elbows, looking down at him, the way he peers up at you alone could convince you to commit the most heinous crimes. you nod, reaching down to untie them, but he’s quick to stop you. “let me do it,” he says, grasping your wrists. you swallow thickly, glancing at how his large hand easily holds both your wrists with ease.

he takes his time unlacing your corset, wanting to savor this juncture in time. he’s slower than you thought he’d be, treating you like a ribbon wrapped present, if he’s too rough it may all fall apart and honestly you fear that you might if he doesn’t move any faster.

“farleigh,” you whine, sitting back up. “hurry up or it stays on,” you nearly growl and he laughs, tugging everything undone with one harsh tug, opening your corset and baring your breasts. you gasp, instinctively covering yourself. he shakes his head, tsking you when he pulls your arms away. “thought you wanted me to hurry up?” he bites back just a little, playfully, pulling a glare from you. he doesn’t care, he’s already lowering himself back between your thighs, holding you by your calves to spread you open.

he grips your calf, the other squeezing your thigh, using them to keep you wide open for him. his hands are warm and firm around your flesh, and his tongue is wet and hot against your clothed cunt.

the small act alone propels you into hedonism, reminding you of how good pleasure can be, how all consuming it is, and in this moment it feels as though farleigh is the only one who can provide any relief for the burning engine grinding in the pit of your stomach, aching to be satiated.

“farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back when he mouths at your cunt, his tongue burns through your thin layers but it’s not enough, you want his tongue to brand itself right up against your clit.

your desires and needs are caught through your drawn out breaths, tugging at the air in jagged gasps. he reads through all your little sounds, and without any coherent words needed, he digs a nail into your pale pantyhose, ripping them in the crotch and pushing your panties to the side, burying his tongue right where you need it to be, searing your soaked flesh with every broad flick of the wet muscle.

you gasp almost like it hurts, but it’s quite the opposite. he laps you up and devours your cunt like he’s trying to reach your heart, grappling around your legs and gripping your hips to keep you in place, starved for something sweet. his eyes that have held you inside silent conversations amidst a gathering of people are now shut, tucked away behind his eyelids and long lashes, too focused on the way you taste and how he can’t seem to get enough of you.

he’s never been this hungry before, and maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the simple fact he’s fantasized about this more often than he’d like to admit. on more than just a singular off handed occasion, his hand has slipped beneath his boxers, jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together and teeth gritted, almost begrudgingly to the act itself.

but he always gives in.

the fantasy is always the same, it’s prompted by whatever stupid argument you two found yourselves in, and he shuts you up with his mouth latched onto your cunt, erasing any quips or snarkiness left in you and replacing them with the sounds of you struggling to barely even moan his name. and now that it’s real, he can’t just stop now, he wants to prolong this moment for as long as he can.

his nose swipes across your clit, pulling a drawn out moan from the depths of your chest, and you shudder, trying to find something to hold onto for security, but farleigh’s a step ahead of you, eagerly offering his hands for you to take. you do so, desperately, lacing your fingers together and whimpering when he takes in a dull quick breath before pouring himself into your cunt, flicking his tongue right there, and moaning to himself at the way you just melt into him.

you roll your hips into his mouth sporadically, with no real rhythm, your body reacting with violent jerks as if his tongue were electric, and he takes it all in stride, squeezing your hands lovingly.

and when he sucks on your clit, it’s too much, you can’t take it, it pulls you into a state of thick molasses, gleaming and aureate, only to settle into the center of your stomach, pushing inward and arching you forward into pure ember, sizzling through you until it reaches your fingertips.

you can hardly hear or feel yourself breathe, everything’s buzzing and muffled, honey coats your skin and encases you in its sweetness.

you can’t help the twitching in your hips and lower stomach, whimpering in pleasured agony when you come back to earth and feel farleigh’s mouth still on you, moaning to himself and toying with your clit between his lips.

you’re untangling your fingers, and he grunts when you try to squirm away from his mouth, but he’s not having it, gently smacking your hipbone, silently chastising you.

you whine, taking in hefty gasps, it’s starting to hurt but in a way you can’t say is bad. it’s just so overwhelming, it makes you burn from the inside out and you can’t stop the thin stream of tears that escape from your heavy eyes. your bare breasts heave in the thick air, your mouth is parted with a choppy flow of pleadings with farleigh.

he slowly relents, planting one last firm kiss against your clit, peppering smaller ones across your hips and lower tummy, making his way back up to you. “hi,” he smiles as if he wasn’t just tongue deep inside your cunt. he swipes away the streaks of mascara tinted tears from your eyes, laughing breathily at the sight of your lack of coherence. “hi,” you exhale, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. his eyes shut when he leans into you, taking your lips in his. the taste of you is heavy on his tongue, heat fanning across your cheeks when you realize that bittersweet taste in his mouth is you.

your hand rests on his chest, slowly slipping lower and lower until you reach his bulge, palming him with fervor but maintaining some form of sensuality, albeit fueled with a sense of rushed desperation. you break apart from his lips and his head tilts forward, chasing after your kiss. you sponge a kiss against the corner of his lips, angling a downcast tilt towards his cock, mouth agape and eager to take him in. but he’s holding your jaw, stopping you and bringing you back to meet his gaze.

your eyebrows knit together with almost a betrayed curiosity. “why not?” you ask, almost naively, and he shakes his head, his thumb gently swiping across your bottom lip. “you don’t have to do that baby,” he promises, his voice left as a rich rasp from the smoke, and god he sounds so sexy, you want nothing more than to have his cock down your throat.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to,” you just about cross your heart and hope to die, to emphasize the genuine desire you have to suck him off.

“another time, i don’t want you to rush into something you’re not ready for,” he says softly, unintentionally sounding patronizing. it rubs you the wrong way, letting in a flood of embarrassment into your chest.

you scoff, hiding your insecurity with annoyance, folding your arms with a quiet huff. “i can handle it farleigh, if you think i’ll be bad just be honest and don’t hide behind fake reasons.”

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile on his lips betrays his act of annoyance. “you and your pride,” he mutters under his breath, a veil of adoration lacing through it.

“don’t be a brat,” he murmurs with a luster of playfulness, “i just don’t want to overwhelm you with too much too soon,”

you frown, moving away strands of hair from his face, sighing. “is this okay then? too much?” you whisper hotly in his ear, leaning up into him. you reach beneath his dress pants and boxers, wrapping your hand around the thickness of him and hiding your surprise at how big he feels in your palm, and how you can barely wrap around him with your fingers.

he falters above you, groaning in the crook of your neck with whimpers of please’s. you take this opportunity to guide him a little further on his side, lightly pushing him onto his back. you tuck yourself into his side, his arm pulling you in and holding you close.

you shove his pants down just enough to fully free his cock. arousal thrums all along your cunt once he’s freed from his pants. a twinge of gratefulness is in your gaze when you look back at farleigh’s low eyes. taking him down your throat admittedly would’ve been a difficult feat and you’re relieved he stopped you from doing so.

however you won’t admit to that, instead you wrap your hand around him, dragging your thumb around his tip, giggling when he winces with pleasure, curling into you.

you rest your chin on the top of his head, whimpering above him when he takes one of your nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around them as you jerk him off.

“fuck,” he bucks his hips into the warm curl of your palm, running his fingers across your ribs, tugging you in closer towards him. he moans your name like its a saving grace into the valley of your breasts, inhaling your sweet perfume deeply. “does that feel good?” you ask softly, genuinely, and he groans, nodding.

“j-just, squeeze me right there,” he swallows hard, wrapping his large hand around yours when you travel a little further up his cock. you nod attentively, taking note of everything he likes. “tell me what else makes you feel good,” you murmur through kisses, planting them across his cheekbone. he fucking whimpers into your dampening flesh and your clit throbs at the sound.

“i like when you touch me right here,” he admits breathlessly, guiding your thumb to his tip. you nod, taking longer strokes, tightening your slickened grip and glazing over his sensitive tip.

“just like that, fuck,” he groans, panting heavily at the rhythm you’ve developed together. “you’re so cute like this,” you giggle lightly in his ear, teeth grazing his ear teasingly. you pump your wrist a little faster, feeling cocky at the way he falls apart in your hold, completely and utterly at your mercy.

he can’t help the way he tries to fuck your hand, grinding his hips desperately, neck bared for you when he throws his head back. you slide your arm a little further underneath his neck, cradling him close to your side, using your free hand to scratch at his scalp. his hips jerk and he moans, leaning into your gentle touches.

your eyes fall onto the wretched kiss stain on his skin once again, clenching your jaw. you smear it off of him, the flare up of jealousy sanctioning something in you to start dragging your wrist up and down a little faster, squeezing him a little tighter. pride rises within you when you see how receptive he is to it, trembling in the confines of beneath your wings.

you kiss the top of his head as he defaults right back into the sanctuary of your chest. his stubble tickles your skin, and you grow fond of the sensation. your poor hole clenches around nothing when your eyes peer down to see his cock weep in your hand, precum leaking and dribbling down your knuckles, agonizing over the same desire you possess.

the wet sound eliciting from your hand and his cock makes you ache, and you wonder what the tip of his cock would feel like rubbing against your clit. skin to skin. with each drag of your hand over him, you start to feel the familiar throb of desire settle back inside you, wishing your hand was your cunt taking him in. feeling each vein you feel right now but inside you, feeling his fat tip prod and hit right where your fingers could never reach. your fantasizing shows through the way you continue to jerk him off, growing hungrier and hungrier with each stroke.

“baby,” he groans into the thick air, as he lays helplessly beside you. “i wanna see you cum,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally cushioning his face with your breasts and the act alone almost has him cumming in your hand.

he grips your lower back, burying his face in your chest, his body going rigid and firm, his cock twitching in your hold. “shit i think i’m— fuck baby tell me i can cum,” he begs, pressing needy kisses across your chest. you nod, pulling at the back of his curls forcing him to look at you. “you can cum for me farleigh,” you coo softly, lips pressed to the shell of his ear, your warm breath tickling his skin, and it’s all he needs to let go.

he can’t stop his eyes from falling shut in a tight pinch. his body locks up, his mouth parts open to pant in the air, his neck still displayed for your teeth to sink into, hips sporadically fucking into your pumping wrist.

you quickly release him, ducking down to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. you fight against the smile that wavers in your lips, feeling cocky over being the reason why he’s gasping loudly, whining your name as his cock twitches in your mouth.

you shut your eyes when he cums on your tongue, pleasantly surprised at the taste. he cums more than you would’ve expected but you take it all, eager to please him.

you gently lap at his tip, pushing your forearm on his stomach when he convulses from the sensitivity. “f-fuck, baby,” he breathes out, pulling you back up to him. he brings you down to his lips, guiding you onto your back when he kisses you.

it’s his turn to taste himself on your tongue and the thought of his cum gracing your mouth has his softening cock giving one last twitch. his hands run up and down your sides, savoring your skin and praying his hands and fingers memorize each curve and indent. “you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips. you peck him, feeling warm. ���i know.” he smiles, pecking you back.

he collapses beside you, straightening out the charm from your necklace back to the center of your collarbones and despite everything that transpired between you two, the small action still makes you feel flushed.

“would it be okay if i slept with you in your bed tonight?” he asks quietly, anxiously. you nod, turning to look at him with a delicate smile that tells him you’re more than happy to have him stay with you. “i’d be upset if you didn’t.”

relief floods him, in return allowing him to abide by his instincts to scoot closer towards you. he curls into your side completely, long limbs overtaking you and intertwining you two until you feel like you’re one.

“night.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, unsure if he’s still allowed to plant a kiss there. you’re too sleepy to notice, content enough with being in his arms. “goodnight,” you repeat back softly, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

SHE CAN'T COMPARE

Pairings: George Weasley x fem!reader Summary: George's girlfriend broke up with him, and he tells you why Warnings: mentions of a break up Note: I'M ALIVE!

you were sat on the gryffindor couch, next to Fred and Angelina as you waited for George to show up.

no one had seen him since the morning and you were starting to get worried.

you had been informed that he got broken up with earlier that day by his now ex after you were looking for him.

her response was short and rushed, making it more than clear to you that she didn't want to be talking about it.

but it was her cold and harsh tone that made you believe something bad happened.

after a while of just sitting around you sighed and got up

"that's it, i'm looking for him" you looked at your two friends as they looked up with a look that asked 'are you sure?'

"something might of happened to him, or he just needs someone right now, you guys head to bed" you grabbed your sweater and headed out of the common room

you looked around corridors and courtyards, trying to find his large, lanky figure somewhere sitting around, moping

you sighed before climbing up the steep stairs of the astronomy tower

you had thrown on your sweater well before leaving the main castle to escape the winters' night

you finally got to the top and noticed his dark figure leaning against the side, his back to you as he stared off into the mountains in the distance

you walked over to him and held your breath, not sure what reaction you would get from him for being here

"Georgie?" you whispered as you stood behind him,

you heard him sigh "hey, love"

his tone didn't hold the amount of sadness you would of expected

"i heard what happened, are you alright?" you said quietly as you went beside him, looking at his face as he stared up at the stars

"yeah I'm fine" usually, you wouldn't believe that statement, but from the look on his face when he said it, almost made you think he really was ok

"did she tell you why she... you know?" you spoke carefully

"i never loved her the way i should of.." he clicked his tongue

he really didn't seem sad or disappointed, although you sensed a tone of regret

George had been your best friend since childhood, your fathers working together in the ministry meant going over for dinner a few times a month to almost once a week when you and the twins complained about not seeing each other for a while, having connected instantly.

you knew him like the back of your hand, but right now, you couldn't. you couldn't read him, he just seemed, dull, or deep in thought

"what do you mean? it seemed like you loved her a lot" you frowned

he shook his head with a chuckle

"she never compared" was all he said

"George?" you tilted your head

for the first time tonight, he looked down at you, but with a smile

he chuckled again dryly before looking back up at the sky

"of course she didn't compare" he murmured

"compare to what, George?"

George took a deep breath before speaking "to you"

you looked down at your feet, confused by his words, what did he mean?

after a moment of silence he spoke up again, taking it that you didn't understand

"I didn't love her, hell how could I?"

you looked up and saw him already staring at you

you were still frowning, not computing any of this

"how could I possibly love her when you're right there?" he shook his head, towering over you

it was only then when you realised how close you were, you felt his cold breath fanning over your face as he stared at you intently, but softly

"I don't-" you started before he cut you off

"-she told me she loved me, guess what i said" he huffed

you shrugged "what'd you say?" you asked softly

"i said 'i love you too, Y/n' can you believe that? all the times throughout all the 6 months of us dating and all the i love yous, i chose today to say your name instead of hers" he smiled in amusement

you opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it

"i mean sure, i cared about her.. but at the end of the day, it's always been you, it would never be her and she realised that, i feel like she always knew"

"George..." you looked up at him in surprise as he gazed at you.

his eyes held a longing that almost made you weak in the knees, they held a passion and a type of love that made butterflies fly around your stomach

they held such care and softness that made you want to fall into his arms and stay there forever

you've had feelings for George ever since you can remember, but never acted upon it in fear he only saw you as a friend, or worse, a sister.

it could of been the way he teased you over everything, but in a nice way

or it could of been they way he always made you laugh

or the way he kissed your cheek before going off to bed

or the way he always got you your favourite treat from honeydukes without asking

or the way he always stood up for you.

you don't know what it was that made you fall for him, but you did, hard

"i should've known, all these years i've felt something for you, how could it of taken me a girlfriend to realise that i couldn't love anyone but you?" he shook his head in disappointment

"George..." you smiled sadly

"my heart calls your name, even without me knowing it, without me having to try.. my heart belongs to you, it always has" he stepped forward

you smiled up at him but raised your eyebrows, realising he's said all these beautiful things except the 3 words he's been trying to say this whole time

he saw your smile and grinned before pulling you into his arms

you instantly relaxed into his warmth as his strong arms wrapped around you

"i love you" he whispered

"I couldn't tell" you said sarcastically with a teasing smile on your face

"shut up" he shook his head with a laugh

you look up at him, resting your chin on his chest as he holds you

"i love you too, George" you smiled, emphasising his name, still teasing him

"since when are you the tease?" he raised an eyebrow

"ever since you became a softy" you smirked

"I'd rather be soft for you than anyone else" he shrugged

"we should get back to the castle, it's probably way past curfew now" you tried pulling away but he wouldn't let you

"not so fast love, are you forgetting something?" he raised his eyebrows

"what am i forgetting?" you tilted your head

"the best way of showing love and affection" he smirked

you frowned before you felt his lips on yours

the kiss was short and sweet before he let you go to hold your hand and leading you down the tower, going back to the castle.

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

[thebigbadbatswife]

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Welcome to my Kinktober 2024 masterlist! Beneath the read more you will find the list of days/prompts and, as the month progresses, I'll add links to its respective day. Happy reading and hope you enjoy! Obviously as this is kinktober ALL fics are 18+ only, please respect that! Minors/Ageless blogs will be blocked!

Bruce Wayne

Oct 1st - Size Difference/Mirror Sex

Title - Big Mistake Summary - You’ve finally caught the attention of the Dark Knight and it’s better than you dreamt it to be.

Oct 12th - Table Sex

Title - This Is His Home Summary - This is Bruce’s home and he’ll take you wherever, whenever he wants to. You’re certainly not complaining.

Oct 19th - Hand Job

Title - This’ll Be Fun Summary - You grow bored during a League meeting and you decide to test Batman’s resolve.

Captain John Price

Oct 3rd - Double Penetration in One Hole

Title - Simply Too Sweet (Not To Share) Summary - There’s no better way to get rid of some stress than with your Captain and Lieutenant.

Oct 15th - Spitroasting

Title - This Is Becoming A Habit Summary - Second part to Simply Too Sweet (Not To Share). A mission gone wrong leaves you stressed and all you want is for your superiors to fuck you stupid. They’re more than happy to oblige.

Jason Todd

Oct 5th - Orgasm Denial

Title - In For A Long Night Summary - Another heist, another run in with the big, bad Red Hood. Only tonight he seems content with driving you mad.

Oct 24th - Dacryphilia

Title - Pretty When You Cry Summary - The Arkham Knight thinks you look so much better like this.

Oliver Queen

Oct 10th - Cockbulge

Title - A Tight Space Summary - Getting stuck in a broom closet with Oliver gives you an idea on how to pass the time.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Oct 3rd - Double Penetration in One Hole

Title - Simply Too Sweet (Not To Share) Summary - There’s no better way to get rid of some stress than with your Captain and Lieutenant.

Oct 8th - Exhibistionism

Title - Shameless Summary - You put on a show for Simon. One of which that he very much enjoys.

Oct 15th - Spitroasting

Title - This Is Becoming A Habit Summary - Second part to Simply Too Sweet (Not To Share). A mission gone wrong leaves you stressed and all you want is for your superiors to fuck you stupid. They’re more than happy to oblige.

Oct 17th - Wall Sex

Title - Welcome Home Summary - There’s nothing quite like the sex that happens after Simon comes home from a long deployment.

Oct 22nd - Virginity

Title - Trust Summary - Tonight, Simon puts his full trust into you.

Oct 26th - Overstimulation

Title - On A Mission Summary - Simon is on a mission to see just how many times he can make you cum.

Oct 29th - Sex Pollen

Title - What Happens In The Safe House... Summary - During a mission, you come in contact with a strange substance and the only person around that can help you with the effects is Ghost.