Muntitled - 🩰

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...

MYMANMYMANMYMAN

Archie Madekwe as Jann Mardenborough #2

“how’s the writing going?” i’m glad you asked! my room has never been cleaner and i’ve decided to take up baking

I FOLD. I FOLD. I FOLD.

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

Can I request babysitter Seunghan who’s also a plug ( you don’t have to add the plug part if you don’t want to) hired to watch you because you’re a troublemaker

A/n: I love this man and this request... as always, I kinda just wrote and allowed whatever extra stuff to spring up but I hope you like it

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐁𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐲 | 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧

Babysitter!Seunghan x fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, Forbidden Romance, Brothers Best Friend au!, Brief!Mentions of Suicide, Angst, Recreational Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Smut (+18), Dom!Seunghan, Sub!Reader, Choking, Rough Sex, Marking, Innocence Kink, Masturbation (fem!rec), Praise Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink, Dry Humping

The coldness of the heavily chlorinated water hits you first and you distinctly remember thinking: You really should not have finished an entire bowl of pasta before going for a late night dive.

But here you are, and there the ledge is… far from your grasp.

The panic sets in causing a gust of bubbles to rush up from your nose while you cradle the cramp stopping you from swimming all too well. You're trapped in the aquatic abyss, flailing your arms while bouts of water make it inside your system. You're drowning.

Your lungs are thinning.

You need to swim to the ledge but it's too far.

You're getting weaker and weaker.

Your brain has rung the alarm and your mouth opens, subconsciously gulping in a generous bout of pool water. Before you can swallow, however, there's a pair of hands under your armpits dragging you to the ledge.

While you gasp in air, your arms shakily hold onto the concrete.

His voice is far too mellow over the sound of your raucous, sickly sputtering as you fight to find your footing in the shallow end of the pool.

"I don’t know what's worse.” The voice says, breathing heavily, “You trying to kill yourself, or you trying to kill yourself on my watch."

There is nothing but vexation and discontent laced in his baritone.

It looks far too natural on Seunghan's face. It is a look of contempt usually aimed at Sungchan who deserved it, and Eunseok who reciprocated it.

He lifts himself effortlessly out of the pool but not without shooting you an icy, unimpressed glare.

While you were not very often on the receiving end of his disapproval, his glare is nothing new to you. In fact, you're more focused on regaining your breathing pattern.

This glare is nothing new at all.

"You must be evil to kill yourself on my watch," he laughs humorlessly to himself (That earth shattering, blood-rushing row of perfect teeth) as he walks over to the deck chair adjacent to the neon-lit swimming pool.

"Couldn't you have found some other night to do it?” He asks as he angrily pats down at his drenched shorts with a towel. Seunghan mindlessly hooks his fingers into the hem of his soaked shirt, and you fight the urge to look away as he peels the material off of him.

Your weak arms finally garner enough strength to push yourself out of the pool. Thousands of beads of water that could have been the weapon of your destruction eases down your soft body, before sinking into the generic one piece swimming costume you had slipped into.

You're not sure why you feel self conscious right now but you do. How dare your self consciousness decide to rear its ugly, insecure head in the presence of your adversary?

"Who the fuck let in?" You ask in a dangerous octave, despite already knowing the answer. "I thought I told Sungchan to stop letting his strange boyfriends into our crib."

Once you've recovered from the overall shock of nearly dying (at perhaps the sight of a shirtless Seunghan) you manage to glare perfect daggers up at him.

Seunghan releases a humourless chuckle as he plants his butt onto the deck chair, “Down tiger,” he teases before rolling his dark eyes into the back of his head. His earrings glint under the moonlight as he pushes a hand through his jet black hair.

"Of course your brain can't comprehend this as a moment for you to be grateful." He looks up at the night sky, releasing a sigh to the constellations before patting his hand down on the towel in search of his prized tiny metal container.

"You really do stress me out," he whispers in complete awe.

“You can't smoke here,” You try helplessly.

“We're outside.” He says, before sighing heavily with his eyelids heavy, “You don't own the outside.”

You pad over the other presiding deck chair, in quick succession. Hoping you aren't in his presence for any longer than you have to be.

He curses under his breath as he bends over his open metal tin, gliding his fingers over what you knew was a significant amount of weed.

Another byproduct of Sungchan and Seunghan's friendship.

You feel zero empathy for his complaints, choosing instead to roll your eyes to the back of your head as he continues, "Now it's gonna make for a sucky roll. Thanks."

"Your suicide water got all over the paper." He says monotonously.

You're quick to wrap the towel around your front, terrified of the very real possibility that any other one of Sungchan's raucous frat boyfriends might pop up around your parents' villa.

If Sungchan was asking for the family villa, then he had nothing but partying on his mind.

You knew absolutely nothing good could come from your adoptive brother proposing a 'relaxing weekend getaway' to your parents before the academic year began. You saw past the doe eyes and over the exaggerated poutiness.

Your parents, however, were not completely unaware of Sungchan's intentions.

“That's fine,” your mother had said. "But take your sister with you," Ignoring your fierce protests, your mom looked squarely into Sungchan's pleading eyes, challenging him to talk back to her.

"Those bags under your eyes are only going to grow darker, honey" Your mother had chided you, "You're going."

Something that perhaps doubled your complaints was when your mother suddenly exclaimed, “I'd feel better if you take that Hong Seunghan with you as well,” she shook her head before smiling dreamily, “He has been such a good influence on you, Sungchan.” And you had resumed your dinner in a troubled silence while your mom piloted the conversations.

She should've just left you at the damn orphanage…

You understood the trip for what it really was. A chance for Sungchan and his close-knit group of degenerates to get high or drunk or both.

"I'm so very sorry that my drowning killed your vibe." You shoot at Seunghan before gathering up your belongings up from the deck chair. Instead of turning back to catch a glimpse of Seunghan swiping his tongue over the rolling paper, you evade all eye contact.

You sigh as you walk past him, hell bent on making your way inside the villa and locking yourself in your bedroom for all time. Never turning around, you firmly say, "I definitely don't have time for this-"

"I appreciate the apology." He says, nodding in gross sincerity, "I'd just prefer it if you don't let this suicide shit happen again? You fucked with my ritual." He looks up at your retreating frame, smiling boyishly before lighting the end of his blunt.

You bristle in the knowledge that Seunghan was once again put on babysitting duty.

While Seunghan blows out wispy clouds of smoke, he interrupts, "-Is what I said when I found out I'm stuck here while your brother bones one of the other island girls."

"I don't need a babysitter." You hiss while your fingers curl around the thin glass panels of the sliding door. "I haven't needed one for 15 fucking years-"

"-She says, after having just attempted to drown herself." He snorts and he pulls back and concludes with, "Evidently, Princess, you kinda do." You hated the satisfaction in his tone. You abhorred how absolutely satiated he appeared when your blood ran hot and your limbs shook with ferocity.

You wished he died...

You knew your aberration extended to your brother as well, for sinking his claws into your crush before you could ever work up the courage to talk to him. 10 years in and that big brained, sensitive tree of a boy you jad initially fallen in love with is gone.

Or perhaps you wished he had never met Sungchan.

Lost in a vague reanimation of your brother.

You wished to hurt him as much as he hurt you everyday he spent at your brother's side and so, without breaking eye contact, you quietly and succinctly said, "Yeah well, you're just his lap dog that he sends to babysit his little sister-"

Seunghan only laughs unperturbed, "Sick burn from the basket case-" and you quickly shoot back.

There is complete silence between the two of you. A silence that hangs like wet washing.

"You're not even really a part of them," you snicker, "Where do you think they all are right now? Probably at a party by the beach, doing lines of coke down a model's sternum." The worse flow from your lips in quick succession. "All of them just fucking relieved to get rid of overbearing, burden Seunghan." You say, "Seunghan the prude. How utterly sad."

"I'm not a prude." He says quietly, hands stilling on his lap. You're utterly, mystified to find that you've struck some sort of nerve.

Perfect…

"It's the 21st century, Seunghan. It's okay to be a virgin," you nod condescendingly. "It may not be cool but it's definitely okay!" You exclaim before turning on your heels, letting the big open mansion swallow you whole, while you hum in utter glee.

Before you're out of earshot, his voice reaches your ears. They perk when you hear a very low, very deep

"Fucking bitch,"

-which not only has you smiling wider... but it has a deep warmth running hot in your core.

You plop yourself down on your bed, before staring up at the beams in complete and utter silence. Almost instinctively, as if you had no say in the matter at all, your short manicured nails trail down your belly before stopping right above your pubic bone.

You're peeling your clothes off of you the very second you make it back into your room, having climbed the elaborate wooden staircase two at a time. His words seem to have rocked you to your very being and your stomach does fiery somersaults as his words replay like a broken record within the confines of your brain. For 3 whole years since you've pledged to forgo this childish crush on him and it's as though your feelings have only doubled in magnitude.

A thick wad of saliva fights to make its way down your throat as your eyes finally give in to the darkness by fluttering shut.

Who does he think he is, your mind echoes wildly.

Who is he to think he can talk to you however he pleases?

It enrages you to imagine Sungchan has given him this right, and it enrages you further to imagine yourself growing impossibly hotter at his tense and crude tone of degradation. It was a feat to get Seunghan to swear, the boy was something akin to a turtle. Never without its shell. Never without the threat of sinking back into himself when things got uncomfortable.

‘Fucking bitch’

You finally accepted the knots in your stomach for what it was before plunging your hands in between your open legs.

You'd always prized yourself on your self control but that is a fickle thing as you press your palm to your slick and sticky cunt. You spread your arousal all over your inner thighs as your back arches off the mattress.

“Fuck-” you hiss into the quiet night air, as you picture a very distinct smile from a very distinct ravenlike boy, hovering above you. You imagine him watching you try helplessly to please yourself by withholding his own ministrations as some sort of punishment. You swear you can feel his lips brush against your ear and you can hear the soft tinbre of his deep voice as he whispers, “You're such a fucking slut, you know that?”

Your desperation tumbles out of your mouth, and you vaguely are aware that you're too far gone, trapped in the web of the fantasies that you've woven.

“F-Fuck, Seunghan- I'm close- ” And the embarrassment of crying out into an empty room, about a boy who could not give less of a fuck whether you live or died, is suddenly, made very fucking real, very fucking quickly when you hear-

“Hey… So, I just wanted to apologise-”

Your thighs clamp shut around the hand that was coaxing you to orgasm, while your knees simultaneously lock around you.

Seunghan stands there in your open doorway, sans blunt or shirt, with his plump pink lips hanging open in stark shock.

How enamoured by your own fantasy you had been, to not realise that you had left the door to your room wide open. How deep had you sunken into your own lust not to have noticed the boy standing at the door?

“Oh my fucking God-” your heart sinks into the very pits of your stomach as you rush to pull your pillow over your naked frame. Every nauseating emotion: fear, pity, acrimony, embarrassment, antipathy and worry, wash over you like a volcanic wave of molten lava. There are tears stinging your eyes as you move to rush over to the door. Before you're able to move however, Seunghan's voice is very stern and very quiet when he says, “Lay back down,”

There is a ringing in your ear that is spurred on by your erratic heartbeat and the wave of emotions running through your mind…

“W-What?” You truly felt as though you're unable to talk, unable to form any coherent response that might do this moment justice.

Here he is, the boy you have quite literally been pining over since your brother had been parading him around you.

Here he is, stepping over the threshold of your bedroom, but not before sending one gaze behind his back.

“You heard me,” Seunghan says before swinging your door shut using his back, so as never to remove his eyes from you. “You better make it quick.” He warns, “I don't know how long that party might keep your brother entertained.”

A billion questions stream through your consciousness but they all fail to reap even a single explanation and soon, you're idly complying. Pushing your head back slowly, until your braids are buried in the Egyptian linen. Your heart races when you hear his footsteps close the distance between the two of you and somehow you're still fighting to convince yourself that this is real. That Seunghan, and his dangerously sweet smile and inky black hair, is standing above you right now.

While you are here… naked.

That is enough to want to illicit a wave of nausea because no way, on God's green earth, were you going to let him see you naked.

“This is fucking insane-”

“Sit the fuck back down.” He does not shout, but still relays a level of conviction that has you propping yourself up by your elbows as you gaze up at the man in front of you.

“So she listens to orders,” he notes quietly, “Interesting…” Seunghan immediately lowers himself on the edge of your bed, careful not to let your skin touch as he flutters his eyes closed, seemingly thinking something through before nodding with finality.

“Make your fingers wet for me,”

“Seunghan-”

“Is that a no?”

You couldn't very well tell him how desperate you are. You couldn't tell him that his presence and his voice alone has your legs tense and trembling under the pillow. Instead, all you do is hesitantly bring your index and middle finger up to your lips. You suck on them without ever bringing eye contact and once again, Seunghan shuts his eyes in an almost pained expression.

“Fuck, we should not be doing this-”

He says to himself, completely eliminating you as an entity of reason in the space around him, which was fine by you because you can feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into subspace.

“I shouldn't be doing this,” He says, despite having the bed dip as she shifts closer towards you.

“Sungchan is gonna fucking freak,” he says before finally laying his palm against your steepled knee.

“I don't care,” it's the first words you've said since the severity of the situation sunk in and your voice is hoarse.

Seunghan's earings glint under the warm lights of your bedroom lamp and you never break eye contact once.

“Lay back down and open your legs for me.” He commands oh so quietly until yojre automatically complying; removing the pillow from your front until you were naked in front of him.

Every bad feeling is overridden by lust as you watch Seunghan's heavy eyes skate over your body. “I really wanna watch you fuck yourself with your fingers,” he admits gravely.

Almost instinctively, your hands begin to move in between your parted thighs but he stops you- “Next time.” He promises, and it sends a wave of goosebumps over your skin along with harsh shivers.

“Right now though,” Seunghan gingerly grabs at your waist, until soon, he's manoeuvring you on top of him. You're straddling his hips as he lowers his back onto the bed and Seunghan immediately presses your hips flush against his clothed cock.

“F-Fuck-” both your hips stutter against each other. Yours and Seunghan's lips are hanging open, seemingly surprised by how much you've actually needed each other until now. He cranes his neck back as he rocks you back and forth against him. Yous eize the opportunity to latch your lips onto his skin, eliciting a long and pained groan from him.

“I need to fuck you,” he admits, pawing at your breasts desperately. You whine against him, mind still fuzzy from Seunghan's hard-on rubbing against your soaked cunt.

You're a whimpering moaning mess when he latches his other hand against your throat, pulling you up until his lips were crashing onto yours.

He wastes no time, kissing you hard and rough with his velvety tongue pushing inside your mouth.

“If we carry on like this I'm gonna cum,” he says before pulling his hand away from your boobs and down to his cock in between you both. “Can't have that,” he whispers.

“I'm close too,” you whisper back, “It's fine-”

“You're so fucking desperate. Just be patient.” Despite the iciness in his tone, Seunghan is shocked to find your hips stuttering against him at the words.

“You like that?” He asks breathlessly as he pulls his cock out of his shorts. “You like being my desperate little slut-”

“F-Fuck Seunghan, you need to fuck me p-lease-” before the words even leave yoir mouth, he's sinking into you with an acute roughness that has you screaming in your room.

“Oh my fucking- fuck-” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hips almost instinctively begin to ride him, your body now hellbent on chasing it's own orgasm.

You prop yourself up by your arm, leaving Seunghan to stare up at you and clamp his hand around your tits once more.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, never once taking his eyes off your completely fucked out expression. “You're being such a good fucking girl.”

The depth in his voice, the aching expression in his face and his cock fucking into you at such a rabid pace has your inhibitions melting into incoherence. You were completely and utterly cock drunk. You would do anything he asked you to. Anything he wanted you to do.

“Fuck- You're fucking filth, y'know that?” Seunghan whispers, unable to stop his hips from fucking up into you, “But you're so fucking pretty too?” He says, “M-My pretty girl- FUCK-”

And somehow, those exact words have you both cumming with your moans swimming in the open air. He clutches you tightly as he emptied himself inside of you and you let him, with your eyes rolled back and your tits pressed firmly,against his chest. He claws at your back while you both fight to keep your eyes from slipping shut.

After what feels like ages, you're both breathing heavily and the weight of it all comes crashing down.

“You're so fucking hot." Seunghan's fingers draw lazy shapes against your back as he looks up at the ceiling. “I've always thought that.”

“Well why didn't you say anything?”

“I'm saying something right now.”

Apologies for grammatical or spelling errors, it's 1am

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.”