Muntitled - 🩰

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡

Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader I Brief!Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: you ought to not be surprised by Farleigh's constant cheating. You should, instead, use his greatest adversary to get back at him.

Warnings: Language, Dark fic, Mentions of Violence, Toxic Relationship, Mentions of Drug Use, Smut (+18), Public Sex, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Dub/Con, Choking, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Threats, Rough Sex, Sadism, Masochism, Dry Humping, Orgasm Denial,Cervix fucking, Dom!Oliver, Subspace, Corruption Kink, Humiliation,

This film opened my brain and spilled out everything inside.

𖤓

Because neither you nor Farleigh had ever been modest about your relationship, Oliver was made privy to every single bit of it. You both were so indiscreet and so hellbent on showing everyone else that you were together, it felt as if Oliver lived in your skin.

Whenever you and Farleigh cuddled drunkenly, Oliver was made privy. Whenever you and Farleigh exchanged sexually charged glances across the dinner table, Oliver was made privy. Whenever Farleigh was touch-starved and sank his claws around your throat, Oliver, always skulking in the background, was made privy. Whenever you two fucked. He was there.

Oliver could hear the two of you eating each other alive during a majority of his stay at Saltburn so he should be used to this behavior by now.

“What a slut,” Farleigh's words are wrapped in humid sweat, with his hands locked firmly around your throat, “What a good fucking slut.”

Oliver, having just decided to take a midnight stroll, watches from the shadows as Farleigh takes you right there in the courtyard. He may not particulary fond of Farleigh, still Oliver had to applaud that he at least had the decency to ravage you in secret. Oliver remains watching, not because it gives him any sexual gratification, but only because he did not imagine your sex lives to be this visceral… certainly not this animalistic.

“You are fucking filth, you know that?” Farleigh asks, rutting into you with your back pressed against a stone surface. Instead of your eyes fluttering shut, you were gazing over Farleigh's shoulder, staring straight ahead at the shadow skulking in the darkness.

Oliver held a finger up to his lips, prompting you to keep your mouth shut.

You watch each other as Farleigh fucks into you, continuing his words of mindless praise. “Gorgeous fucking filth-” and you both cum at that. Farleigh with his eyes shut, and you, with your mouth hanging open and your gaze stationed on Oliver.

Before this exact moment, Felix was the only thing that existed in Oliver's whole wide world. He did not notice you, but never ever think that he was not aware of you. In fact, as far as Oliver knew, you held no standing of any official significance in Saltburn.

Beyond, of course, being Farleigh's overcompensated whore.

You were almost as inescapable as Farleigh, but not nearly as annoying and for the most part, you played the role of a good little girl, forever glued to her unfaithful boyfriend’s side.

These are the thoughts that pollute Oliver’s mind as he drifts through the vibrancy of his own party, having left the maze and Felix's limp body in it.

Oliver's feet, clad in all-too-expensive Italian leather only seem to weigh him down as he drifts aimlessly through the egregious castle. Neon lights spill over a carpet stitched with cocaine and he has to fight the urge not to shove past the drunken bodies congesting his pathway.

For the longest time, Oliver was convinced that you were one of them: These people disguised as parasitic waste dancing underneath the moonlight, celebrating his supposed birthday. Instead, Oliver finds you here, taking up space in the Blue Room with your figure helplessly draped over the bed.

Your form is reminiscent of The Nightmare. One of Oliver’s most beloved paintings, reason being, because it was so unequivocally dreadful. He watches you as he would The Nightmare.

Your eyes are wet and your body is wracking with pitiful sobs into your forearm. Ollie may not be good at emotions but he can tell you're distraught- like one of Fuseli's girls.

Soon, the whole thing becomes too uncomfortable to watch and he clears his throat as he says,

“Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone was in here.”

“Oh-Ollie!”

Your shoulders shoot up, and you nearly jump off the bed in apparent fright. Your eyes are wide saucers and your skin is dark in the moonlight. Ollie has to resist the urge to lick his lips.

He wanted to fucking eat you alive.

“Fuck, did I scare you?” He hunches his shoulders, making himself smaller than he usually was. “My apologies.” He had to appease you somehow in your startled state and you You quick to press a shaky palm to your cheeks, utterly devestated to find the surface of your skin wet and salty.

Out of all the parasites in this nest, you were the least bloodthirsty.

“How utterly embarrassing,” you coo, before wiping furiously away at your cheeks.

Sensing the perfect opening, Oliver steps over the threshold, polluting the space, as he did the rest of Saltburn, with his presence alone.

“Where'd you come from?” You ask before sitting up at the edge of the bed.

“Murdering my best friend.” Oliver answers cooly, with his wooden horns silhouetted by the moonlight.

As he creeps closer the moonlight highlights the crevices of your face and Ollie is able to capture the smile that cracks across your visage. He loves that.

You are so deliciously routine.

“Understandable,” you calmly shoot back, “Sometimes I could just fucking kill Farleigh myself.”

How curious. You thought he was joking.

“That's why you were crying, then?” Ollie asks, as he skulks about the Blue Room. He glides his finger across the dusty mantle before turning his eyes back to you, “You were crying because of Farleigh?”

He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear you say it.

Your glittery brows curve again above your puffy eyes, just as your lips protrude into a shaky pout. Fuck he was so painfully hard.

“You'd rather eat glass than hear about my common relationship problems,” you chuckle, fighting back a sob.

“I'd rather eat glass than get back to that stupid party.” And his eyes are so genuine, you immediately believe him. “You'd be saving me, he says, before finally planting himself down on the bed beside you. “Promise.”

“Not much to tell honestly,” You shrug, causing the left string of your cocktail dress to fall off your shoulder. You leave it there. “ You know how Farleigh can be... He has somewhat of a-”

“-Communal penis?” Ollie interjects, “Fucking anything and everything that even vaguely gives him the time of day?”

“Exactly!” and before you know it, you're giggling in the dark with a stranger. “I get tested for STD's like I'm a fucking invalid-”

“The sexiest fucking invalid I've ever come across.” He's closer now. Close enough to tell you've been drinking.

With your eyes trained on his full lips, a thought strikes you suddenly. "Happy birthday, Ollie.” That is enough to snap his gaze up from your exposed collarbone, and up to your big, round eyes. He does not respond for several seconds, promtpting you with the devestaing thought that you might have struck some unforseen nerve.

“H-ave I upset you?” You ask in such genuine concern and naivete, it nearly causes Oliver to cum in his fucking pants. He needed to defile you so badly. He needed you to cry around his cock. He just needed you-

“'Course not," Oliver clears his throat before unclenching and clenching his wired fist, "It's just-you're the first person that's said that to me all night.” Your eyes are hazy now, with your brain having caught on to the very daunting fact that you're in a room with someone who perhaps has other intentions. He is leaning in before slithering his calloused hand on your thigh. Never ever do you move away. Never ever do you tell him off.

“I find that hard to believe-” your bones are rattling as the warmth of his palm spreads to the inside of your steadily opening thighs. “Surely Felix must've said-”

“Fuck fucking Felix- the world doesn't revolve around him!” You're corralled into silence, with this man steadily pushing you back against the bed. “We don't need to talk about Felix,” he looks absolutely ravenous as the tips of his fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

It's so blatantly filthy, you cannot help but arch your back off the bed and press yourself further against his fingers. “F-Fuck… Ollie-” your breathing is laboured and Ollie watches utterly mesmerised by the way your hips move against his hand.

“I h-heard something about you-”

“What did you hear?” asks Oliver before pulling down your soaked underwear.

“That you don't care about fucking on menses.” You say, awaiting a response but getting none because Oliver stuffs his face between your legs. He's eating you out with absolute fervour, with his nose bumping periodically against your clit.

“Where'd you hear that?” He mumbles against your cunt.

He did not expect to be so utterly taken by you. This is wholly unexpected.

“A certain bottled blonde- FUCK- J-Just like that- please, God, please-”

He only pulls away, only to shrug off his blazer. With his horns and his cock indenting against his pants, he looks absolutely terrifying, that only has you rutting in the air helplessly.

“You mean Venetia is not a real blonde?” He asks before shoving his face in between your legs once more, “I feel betrayed.” The sarcasm drips from his tongue. The same tongue that slithers out his mouth to lick hurriedly against your cunt. He suctions his lips against your hole, as if he wanted to taste inside you.

“I didn't fuck her-” He pants, before pushing his nose against your cunt, “I didn't fuck her all the way- FUCKING BITCH-” Sharp pain bleeds from his scalp because your fingers and its acrylics are buried in his hair now.

“G-God, yes, Ollie-” you're actively rubbing your cunt against his face, absolutely using him to get off. Almost immediately, Oliver immediately decides that won't do.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks, before pinching your clit causing you to still your movements completely. Your torso is wracking with sweat and your nipples pierce through the softness of your dress.

“O-Ollie P-please-”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks before removing his face from your cunt all together. You try desperately, to hold your moan, but the sight of him crawling up your torso seems enough to almost have you cumming untouched.

You fight against it. You fight against the warmth in the pits of your stomach, you fight against the urge to hump mindlessly into the air until your cunt creates friction with… something. You fight hard.

His breath is warm against your face, but never once do you look away.

“I use you,” he whispers before slithering a hand around your throat.

He squeezes.

“And I'd fucking die before I ever let it be the other way around.” He squeezes and squeezes until you're tapping furiously against his palm.

“Look at how gorgeous you look when you're not being a filthy fucking whore.” You can't help it. Your hips immediately buck up into nothing despite your shortness of breath. You're clawing at his wrists, hoping he'd ease his grip but Oliver does nothing of the sort. In fact, he only moans at the sight of your eyes sinking to the back of your head-

“Fucking, fuck-” He curses, before quickly undoing the vexing buttons of his pants. “Bloody disgusting,” he says, watching the drool ease out your mouth, “You are bloody disgusting-” he sinks into you the very moment he eases his hand away from your throat. You're gulping generously at the air as Oliver slaps against your cheeks, bringing you back to the land of the living.

“There she is,” he punctuates his sentence with a violent thrust, “There she fucking is-”

Pleasure and pain shoot through every channel of your body until you can't even decipher the two. “OH MY FUCKING GOD-”

“I love when you call me that, baby,” He mumers with his eyelids heavy, “I fucking love when you call me that, with your pretty fucking voice, you USELESS fucking bitch-”

It is absolutely sick and absolutely deranged. Every other word that skates out of his mouth is a contradiction of the last and you're utterly frightened of the beast taking you so roughly.

“You're taking it so well-” he whispers, before letting his hand squeeze your nipples through your dress, “Your cunt is taking my cock so fucking well, baby- Fuck-” when the head of his cock presses to that sensitive pillowy plushness, you're wailing in the dark like a banshee. Wanting to push him off of you, but not wanting the pleasure to end. Your struggle only brings him closer and closer to edge.

“I-Is that your fucking cervix, baby- Fuck-”

“Oh God- Ollie.”

He nods, “Now you're gonna cum for me, yeah? You're gonna cum for me and you're gonna think about your stupid cunt of a boyfriend. How he doesn't fuck you like I do-” your orgasm has already started to trickle in and your hips lift up to collide with his, “Tell me- Tell me you can't fucking live without me-” He says, “I need it to cum, tell me, tell me-”

“I need you, Ollie.” His lips stutter open, just as his thrusts become shallower and shallower “I need you to fucking live, Ollie-”

“FUCK- oh fucking fuck-” his spunk fills your insides, just as the entirety of your orgasm washes over you and you immediately realize that you're crying. You're crying because everything feels so good. Oliver has completely strummed you to orgasm. He has moulded your body into everything he needs it to be.

“I fucking use you.” He says, “Not the other way around.”

STOP😭 DO NOT gas me up like this

Req - Something about Shotaro? Oh my god anything, your writing is just so????;!!;?$3

Maybe some smut on the toxic-ish side about how he appeals to be a loving boyfriend to your friends but behind closed doors he’s a lot more intimidating/manipulative, but you’re still just so weak for him (maybe even more so because of it???) and just can’t control yourself around him. Idk, I’m literally clueless but I just know I need that immaculate brain of yours combined with Taro!!!

Much love, and Happy New Year!!!

A/n: I'm not gonna lie... This took a good chunk of my sanity trying to write, I can only hope that you like it. Also happy new yearrr

𝗣𝗶𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁

Osaki Shotaro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Shotaro is your golden retriever boyfriend... until he isn't

Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Best friend!Sohee, Possessiveness, Slight Dark fic, Toxic!Relationship, Manipulation, Smut (+18) Dom!Shotaro, Fingering, Grinding, Choking, Teasing

Your shoulders are as rigid as two metal cinder blocks, keeping your head from rolling off onto the floor. Barbed wires twist with anxiety in the pit of your stomach because you know, despite the sunshine disposition, despite the smile, despite the glassy doe eyes, Shotaro is pissed, and he definitely wants you to know about it.

“I swear on my unborn child,” Sohee, your best friend (your best guy friend) exclaims over a mouthful of ramen, “Yours is the only man I'd ever let cook for me. The rest of the male population can choke.”

While Shotaro basks in Sohee's praises with a modest sunshine smile, you sigh under the pressure of your boyfriend's grip on your thigh as you swiftly say, “You're quite literally a member of said male population-”

Sohee lowers his chopsticks before assuming a vaguely threatening stance with his cheeks round and stuffed. “Begrudgingly,” he says, “Not by choice.” You do not laugh but you try to.

Sohee bounces up and down in his seat, seemingly oblivious to your nervousness and Shotaro's skillfully hidden vexation.

“This is why I needed you two to end up together.” Says Sohee, swinging his head towards you. “My Golden Retriever best friend,” he swings his head towards Shotaro, “And my Golden Retriever coworker-”

“It's getting late, Sohee-” Shotaro's voice is calm and his head is still tilted as he says, “Should I call your uber?” You gulp silently as Shotaro's hand rubs up and down your thigh in a dizzying motion.

“Not very Golden Retriever of you,” Sohee grumbles before slurping down the last of his soup, “But that's okay because you're perfect in everything else-”

“Are you trying to steal my boyfriend, Sohee?” You hope cracking a joke might alleviate some of the one sided tension only you seem to be aware of.

Despite the smile, Shotaro is having a very difficult time remaining patient, especially because he had plans. Before Sohee had hijacked your attention, Shotaro would venture to say that he was actually somewhat happy at the start of the evening… before he found himself sharing your time with your over exuberant best friend.

There was a lively, almost vibrant pep in his step when he got off work, despite the tiredness in his muscles. As Shotaro made his way down the corridor towards your apartment door, his head was bowed with his eyes glued on his phone.

Your whimpers resounded in the clarity of his headphones. He watched you cum around his fingers, absolutely transfixed- so transfixed he almost doesn't recognize movement in his periphery right when he reaches your front door.

Far too swiftly, Shotaro plastered a smile on his face as he paused the video, dropped his phone into his pocket and lowered his headphones before bowing to your elderly next door neighbour.

He muttered a polite “안녕하세요,” in greeting, and the tiny old woman responded just as amicably.

She, as well as every other person in your life is absolutely floored by his politeness.

“What a nice young man,” she said, as she continued her way down the corridor, leaving Shotaro chuckling to himself because the thoughts he was having were certainly kilometres off on what a nice young man should be thinking.

He could not help that he had been thinking about you the whole day. Not even just sexually. (Although he did miss your body terribly. Shotaro was absolutely obsessed with the way it worked: You were always so unmistakably pliant for him. Like clay). Even simply being this close to your space made his heart overblown with satisfaction. Your house had always been somewhat of a safety enclosure for him. His own little piece of peace away from the outside world.

As he inserted the password and turned the knob, Shotaro imagined how you'd be waiting for him after work by the door like you usually did. Swimming in his oversized shirt as you stood with your arms opened wide.

None of those things happened.

Shotaro trudged into your house, sweaty and physically defeated from another day of exerting himself with rigorous routine. The thought of melting into your arms had been the only thing keeping him vaguely upright, when all he wanted to do was collapse on a pile on the floor.

As he proceeded to kick his sneakers off at the door, Shotaro’s brain nearly short circuitrd at the sight of you standing before him… fully dressed.

Not for any reason beside the fact that he had hoped to find you dressed comfortably enough to touch each other while you both cuddled lazily on the couch.

He was not being unreasonable in his expectations.

“Are we supposed to be going somewhere?” Shotaro asked quizzically with his doe eyes widened in cute curiosity. He eyed your halter neck and maxi skirt with much discontent.

“Oh good! You're home! I actually have something to-” Before the words could escape your mouth, he immediately enclosed you in a hug that you drowned in.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured before splaying various sloppy kisses on the side of your face, “Couldn't stop thinking about you the whole day… your face-” A kiss, “Your mouth-” another kiss, “your boobs-”

“Taro, I have to tell you som-”

“God, I hate people!” he exclaimed above you with his arms falling to your hips.

“I shouldn't have to remind you that I count as people.” You jest in vague nervousness.

“When I say I hate people, never ever, do I mean you,” he whispered above you before patting your head down as if you were, less his human girlfriend and more something that went about its life on four legs.

“Do I count as people?”

Your shoulders stiffened and Shotaro's arms grew rigid as his head snapped up to look at your best friend- his co-worker.

Sohee makes his introduction behind you in the same outfit Shotaro saw him in at dance practice and he waved lightly.

Shotaro's shoulders sag infinitesimally but that smile on his face is all too permanent.

Sohee spinned around before mumbling, “Also I'd appreciate it if you two didn't hump each other out in the open for my viewing pleasure.”

Instead of actually feeling compelled to eat you now sit idly at the dinner table, picking and prodding at the ramen Shotaro has prepared for you all.

Your boyfriend's irritation is subtle and you could definitely miss it in the brightness of his overall countenance.

“I mean, it's not that I don't wanna be in a relationship- it's just that, seeing you two has inspired me… I guess you could say?” If it weren't for Shotaro's hand on your thigh you might have actually listened to the countless praises he dotes on Shotaro.

Praises about how good of a man he is. How perfect he is. How absolutely wonderful he must be for being able to put up with you.

All through the dinner, Sohee talks and talks, and you sit with your fingers curled around the end of the table, trying to stop yourself from not reacting to your boyfriend’s minstritations.

It is only when the dinner ends, and Shotaro escorts Sohee to the door, that you finally feel the first real signs of anxiety begin to solidify in your gut.

You're trying your best to load the plates into the dishwasher with a steady hand when you feel a daunting presence behind you. Evading eye contact, you swiftly and succinctly say, “I'm sorry. He had no where else to go-”

“He has a house. Try again.”

You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut at the coldness in his voice.

“He's my best friend, Shotaro,” you say with finality before straightening your spine and turning to face him. You’re both pressed on opposite ends of the kitchen. Both with your arms folded.

“I don't really like your friends.” He says.

“I don't think my friends should be your problem, is what I'm saying.” You clarify. “And anyway, I thought you’d like the fact that Sohee’s my friend.”

Shotaro Scoffs as he says, “I'd like it more if he didn't try to inject himself into our relationship, babe.” Shotaro's voice is incredibly calm, but his words are aimed like an arrow doused in poison, as he closes the distance between you two. Your attention is fixed on him as he lifts his hand to trace small lines on your exposed collar, and you nearly fight the urge to make your eyes flutter shut.

“Not to sound like a tired fucking cliche but, I'm just thinking about what's best for you-” That snaps you out of it.

“What's best for me or what's best for you?!" You exclaim before slapping his hand away.

If only you knew how badly that particular passive-aggressive action affected him. Shotaro crowds you against the counter as he pushes his front up against yours until he's quite literally peering down at you. You refuse to crane your neck back and look up at him.

He was being ridiculous.

“I'm not choosing between you or my friends, Taro-”

“You're so pretty, you know that?” His completey-out-of-left-field comment, especially layered with that sweet-as-honey voice of his, shoots straight to your core, and you grab the counter behind you for support. “And smart too,” he says, before trailing his hand down your arm, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Shotaro’s touch is not only sensual, but its molten fucking lava and it nearly has you melting into a puddle on the floor.

“So I trust you to make your own decisions.” He says, nodding with cute finality before lifting your face up by your chin.

“Taro…” Your heart resorts to frenzy, and your head flies backward when Shotaro drifts his fingers past the seams of your maxi skirt. His are fingers- quite literally making their descent down your underwear while you remain too dumb to do anything but say: “I-I knew Sohee before I knew you.”

He only pushes up against you further, letting his hand grip the side of your neck. “You really think now is a good time to throw that in my face?” He asked with a tilt of his head and his hand now sliding over your cunt.

“You're not wet,” he whispers, “Why aren't you wet?” Before you're ever able able to answer, Shotaro drops to his knees before picking up the ends of your billowing skirt and disappearing underneath the fabric. A torrid gasp escapes your throat when his warm breath skates over your cunt and you're once again throwing your head back in absolute ecstasy.

He pokes his head up from underneath your skirt, cute smile on display while his fingers massage your aching clit. “You're always so wet for me, baby," he says with a childish frown, "What's the matter, huh?” He tilts his head again. “Is it your friend?”

He asks casually, as if his middle finger was not easing its way past your entrance … as if he his fingers were not already drenched in your arousal in less than a minute. “Fuck, Shotaro-”

“Is it because of him?” He continues to ask, now fully moving his fingers in and out of yoy while he remained on his knees- gaze never once wavering. “I'm sorry, bunny,” He says with faux concern, “I didn't know Sohee meant so much to you!”

“F-Fuck Taro-”

At the sound of his name, Shotaro's other hand grips your thigh, only opening your legs wider to split you all the way open against his fingers rough minstriations. He alternates between his middle and index. Sometimes splitting you open with both, until you were thoroughly bucking forward, to the pace that he had set and you were chasing your own orgasm furiously.

“You look like you're gonna cum for me, baby!” He exclaims with big bright eyes and a wide open smile. Equal parts adorable and completely fucking manic.

“Ask me to cum,” he whispers, still looking up at you like you were the best toy he could've ever hope to get. “I control your body. I control every part of you.” He says, “So ask me-”

“Please, Taro!- P-Please can I come?” Your hands have long ago found purchase in his blonde locks and you squeeze your eyes shut, bucking into him at a frenzied pace.

“Look at how pretty you are when you're following orders!” He exclaims as if you truly were a child. “So pretty,” he’s absolutely mesmerising, “My pretty girl gets to cum all over my fingers-”

You've already jumped off the cliff, letting your hips stutter as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Shotaro's eyes appear almost pained by the sight in front of him. How easily you break for him. Whenever he wanted. You truly were in control of his entire being.

“G-God-” Your failed attempt at talking brings a wave of warmth over Shotaro's countenance, and he finds himself pleasantly satisfied once again. He lifts himself up to his full height.

“what a gorgeous girl,” he whispers before pushing his forehead against yours, “My gorgeous girl,” he murmurs before sliding his fingers - the fingers that were once inside you- past your trembling lips.

𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧

Oliver Quick

Gorgeous Fucking Filth | 2k words, Cheating, Aquaintences to Lovers, Dark fic, Smut

Farleigh Start

Love Me Less, Hate Me More | 3k words, Enemies to Lovers, Fwb, Dark fic, Smut

Stay tuned...

I'd sign a relationship NDA for Seunghan so quickly. Just letting yall know, feminism goes out the window when it comes to that man

LMAO IM NOT THAT ANON BUT ILL TELL U WHAT A HELLO KITTY GF IS SO ITS JUST LIKE A GIRL THATS OBSESSED OR JUST A REALLY BIG FAN OF HELLO KITTY/SANRIO

OHHHHHHHH OKAY OKAY, this might actually be a really cute idea for a fic.

Thank you, I appreciate you😭

THEY'RE JUST FRAT BOYS I CANT-

Being a Deobi just means I have 11 different boyfriends and they're all in a fraternity, and they all make music for some reason.