Stalker! Michael Gavey pretending to be struggling in a class just so he can hear you talk <3
You were so sweet, your voice even and tempered as you circle your pencil around one of the many words on the worksheet. Your glasses slip down your nose, and Michael can feel his thighs press together as he tries to stave off his arousal.
He never found the whores on campus attractive, their short skirts and breasts spilling out of their tops could never illicit a response from Michael. He was a man, he had his own fantasies, but silly little bimbo sluts had never been his cup of tea.
But you...
The long skirts and sweaters you wore had never failed to have him leaking in his pants, voice so sweet it had him reeling the first time he'd heard it. Your intelligence was so fucking hot it made him into a whimpering mess almost every night. Michael Gavey was a goner the moment he met you.
He followed you to your classes, sat behind you during lectures just so he could catch a whiff of the soft vanilla of your scent. Your left behind hair ties and pencils you had nibbled on? The tie is wrapped around his cock as he fucks his pillow, his tongue laving the pencil as he imagines the taste of your saliva.
So, yes.
He is pretending to struggle with this class just so he can hear you lecture him. He can imagine his dirtiest fantasy as you talk endlessly, your words holding a certain gracefulness that has Michael palming his cock under the table. You would make a fine professor. He'd kill to see you in the same heels and pencil skirts that some of them wore.
Just as long as you wore that fucking sweater.
"Michael, you're doing so well!" You praise him, a soft smile on your full lips as he hesitantly answers the question correctly. His hand is down his pants underneath the table, his cock throbs as he jerks the leaking tip gently, precum pools in the slit, adding lubrication to his debauchery as you innocently question him on why exactly he needed your help if he was at the top of your shared class.
He hopes that you pull away and see exactly what he's doing. He'd kill to see the look of flustered surprise on your face as you watched him cum all over himself.
There's a flush to Michael's cheeks as he cups his balls in his hand, he rolls them as you flutter your pretty lashes at him, and a shudder leaves his body as his cock throbs. Hot strings of semen leave his slit, a soft dripping sound could be heard as the milky white hits the ground the library. Michael's breath hitches, his eyes roll back just a bit, and he can feel the tension in his shoulders dissolve as his cock throbs painfully underneath the table.
You don't notice, too busy pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose.
Fuck.
He loves those glasses.
Trying to find a Michael fic where the reader isn't a slutty bimbo is actually impossible 😭
breeding kink! farleigh start who always lets his girl use him as she pleases. especially when she's feeling extra needy.
in which farleigh start burns with a desire to fulfil your every needs without an ulterior motive
warning: porn without plot cuz this is just straight up fucking 😛*hands up in defeat*. breeding endeavours, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy (no actual pregnancy. well, soon), shameless fucking, worn out reader and farleigh (they been going at it), p in v, praise cuz you know how i be about it, pet names, post-oxford farleigh (he has grown up goals now)
“what a desperate little thing” he tsks, cracked chuckles slicing through the loud sounds of skin slapping and moans, head full of tight curls resting heavy against the headboard, eyes lazily tracking your every movements, but specifically your hips grinding down against him.
“what would people think if they saw you like this ?” he hums, cocking his head to the side to follow your tilted face, clearly amused.
“personally ? i’d think you’re a slut”
oh.
farleigh knows you like being called that by him. the way your walls pulsate and clamp down on his cock is a dead giveaway.
“but you’re just too— needy. aren’t you, pretty girl ?” he coos.
you blush at the pause before finding the accurate word for you, sheepishly giving him a meek nod in response.
“yeah you are,, it’s okay baby no shame in that”
shifting in his position, he beams at you before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. he’s caged in by your entire body, spreading his thighs that are pushed down by your folded legs further apart so he could pull your hips even lower.
pushing your palms down flat against his toned chest, his tanned skin tinted dark golden hue, sticky. from sweat, maybe. or the heat radiating from both your bodies. you’ve got him pinned underneath your frail body, almost shaking from the pleasure, his hard cock deep and snug inside your pulsating pussy. the curve of your ass pressing down against his balls.
you reach over to cup your palm on his right cheek, fingers barely covering his entire face feeling the warmth of his skin beneath you. peeking through the thick buzz clouding at the top of head, you graze your fingertips along his prominent features, taking in every details. his eyebrows lay perfectly above his long lashes, your trailing fingers wiping the thinnest layer of sweat.
just when you thought you couldn’t get any wetter, thicker ring of white forms at the base of his shaft, relying on the blunt tip to keep prodding near your cervix as the rest of you is drenched. with your own wetness, mostly. some of his precum, or maybe even from you making him cum, before getting him hard again so you could continue fucking yourself on his cock.
“think i’ve spoiled you too much—” he spews, forcing a whine past your lips at his words.
“—pretty pussy can’t even stand a day without having a fat cock stuffed deep inside her”.
it’s pathetic how right he is. farleigh’s spoiled you too much with his cock, having stuffed you full every time you’re so much as let out a whine under his ghost touches. reaching up to cradle your jaw in his large hand, his thumb smoothing over your cheek, the other gently moving strands of hair that keeps falling onto your face from the vigorous bouncing and grinding you’re doing.
a breathy chuckle could be heard from him, before letting out a deep sigh. he’s shaking his head that’s about to explode trying to process just how desperate for him he’s got you, how you’re using his body to soothe the ache in your pussy.
it’s unfair, really. how he could just be doing absolutely nothing, leaning on his back lazily watching you with his eyes drooping low and still look so pretty. between the crimson brushing across his heated up cheeks, his blown out pupils half lidded and swollen soft lips that you’d kiss like he was your source of air, he’s got you hazy. light headed from only seeing him like this, his body trembling slightly from all the blood rushing towards his tip, low grunts escaping his lips, holding himself back from bursting.
feeling his cock twitch as it fucks right into your hole, you can’t help but clench your walls down hard on his shaft earning a dragged out moan from him. you’ve been fucking for hours, number of corners in the mansion having to bear the sheer fervour lingering and consuming the both of you.
farleigh’s been letting you fuck yourself on his cock just so you could relieve the ache in between your thighs and the need to have him near, so near that he’s so much as buried deep inside you. otherwise he’d be ramming into you against the mirror, keeping your hands on your back. you keep clawing for him, desperately clinging onto him and pulling him to be closer as if the both of you haven’t already became one, connected by his leaking hard cock thrusting back and forth into your weeping pussy.
“take all you want baby— fuck, take all you need. ‘m not going anywhere” a small whine escapes his lips as you rest your head in the crook of his neck, nipping your teeth on his soft skin, his hips bucking involuntarily to match your rapid bounces down his cock.
“you’re so cute desperate like this. prettiest girl i’ve had” his choked out praises has you so keen, honey sweet words dripping down his lips has been making you even more eager to carry his baby, to get knocked up by his seed that you’re gonna be so round for him, making yourself a mommy, all for him.
can’t blame yourself when he’s just so pretty that you’d want a mini little farleigh that is just as pretty as him
wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your fingers rake across his broad back as you cling onto him, pressing your entire body as his large hands grip on your waist to guide you on his cock. you’re bouncing almost pornographically, with your tits hard and clashing against his face, your hard sensitive nipples grazing his lips repeatedly.
moving his head to the side, his eyes search yours before settling into the most gorgeous pair, framed by the face he spends most of his days dreaming about. trailing down towards your swollen lips, your mouth agape with saliva threatening to spill from fucking yourself stupid.
his hands that were gripping hard on your waists move in between your bodies, reaching down before forcing a gasp past your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers rubbing on your clit. he’s playing with your drenched folds, spreading the lips apart, pressing down hard against the sensitive nub. and like electric you feel your body jolt up, hips trembling, your whines getting louder as the movements of his fingers teasing your folds release filthy wet sounds.
“oh you like that don’t you ?” farleigh teases, his eyes twinkle seeing your blissed out face, your eyes almost showing nothing behind them as you try chasing your high.
“please—“ you whine out
“okay baby i know” he rasps out, almost like a whisper
as you feel it coming, you can’t help the tremble of your thighs anymore. your legs feel like giving up yet farleigh still has his hands wrapped perfectly around your waist, encouraging you to keep grinding down onto his cock
“it’s okay. shh— you’re okay. we’re gonna get you soo full of my cum that it’s all you’re gonna think about” he quips, almost sounding like he’s mocking you. his lips agape and sharp eyes following the way your pussy splits for his cock, disappearing into your soft walls
“you’re just a little cockdrunk, that’s it“ his hips continue to match your thrusts, the creaking of the bed begins to screech louder from both forces.
“fuck— otherwise you wont be begging for my cock every chances you get” leaning in, he lays the most delicate kiss against your lips, pressing down, asking for yours in return. you can feel yourself melt into him, every senses throughout your whole body becoming heightened, every parts of your body becoming aware of every single one of his lingering touches.
“please,, oh— please please, farleigh” the only words you’re able to let out are babbles of his name, it being the only thing you can say without having to think.
he’s got his large hand gripping at your waist, desperately trying to soothe the overwhelming pleasure of having a warm pussy engulfing his hard cock, his other hand cradling your face ever so carefully as if to not break you like you’re a fragile porcelain doll. his lips on yours, tongue swiping across them to try to get a taste of you.
as your body moves against his, hot sweaty skin sticking onto each other, his ears are being served with your moans, your whimpers that are almost too filthy for him
“what’s the matter angel ? pussy’s stretched out so good yet it’s still not enough for you ?—“
“—poor baby”
your tear stained cheeks make out new ones spilling and trickling down, as you continue to sob feeling the size of his length stretching you oh so sweet at your entrance. at this point his cock’s probably memorised every ridges of your warm walls, the feeling of your pussy wrapped tight threatens him to fuck his entire load inside right the second.
as you let out an exasperated whine, he could feel your pussy clenching hard, releasing in waves. it’s the 4th time farleigh’s made you cum tonight
“mhm, go on baby, cum on my cock. cum all over me”
you’ve got two of his loads safely stuffed right into your pussy, and you’re still trying to get another one for, you know, good measure. making sure he’s absolutely fucked a baby into you every time you fuck won’t hurt anybody.
besides, the both of you are indeed trying. ever since farleigh’s mentioned that he’s actually okay with the idea, which then developed into his whole newfound obsession of knocking you up, the idea of cumming inside you purposely to plant his seed has him excited.
“you wanna be a momma ? is that it baby ?” farleigh coos, planting soft kisses all over your face
“mhm-mm” the haze in your head’s too fucking thick to form a coherent thought. every single responses you try to give farleigh comes out pathetic whines and babbles.
“fucked yourself stupid you can’t even speak”
“you wanna be a momma i’ll fucking make you one” was the last of his words before he’s flipping you over, your back’s now pressed onto the mattress, a loud creak accompanying his manhandling.
“farleigh—!” he was right, by the end of this the only thing you’d be able to make out is his name
“it’s okay sweetheart you did good” he hums through a sinister smile
“—not good enough though” taking matters into his own hands, he’s flipped your bodies so now he’s on top without pulling his cock out. pushing your legs up by the back of your thighs, you feel even more exposed and spread out than ever. but it’s fine. it’s farleigh. you’re willing to give everything to him
holding onto your calves that are folded in front of you, you can feel your pussy stretching just for farleigh to slam his hips against your thighs, fucking his cock as deep as he could that you could swear you felt his tip in your belly. he’s so hard, his shaft curving upwards making you feel so good as it drags along the sensitive walls inside you. he fits perfectly, so snug and tight that it’s almost hard to move if it wasn’t because of your wetness drenched all over the place.
farleigh’s put his body weight against your body, pulling his hips back just to slam into you again and again that you’re sure the back of your thighs are red. he leans down, pushing his entire face in between your swollen tits, lips apart to mouth at your mounds before sucking on your nipple.
pulling away, his hands roam all across your body, fingers tweaking your nipple before his huge palms cup at your soft flesh. he’s squeezing at them, kneading and feeling them while his mouth rambles on and on about how beautiful they are. how gorgeous, how he’s so fucking obsessed with your tits. now it’s his turn to fuck you like he needs it even more so than you did just now. his thrusts are harsh, rapid and filled with lust, yet you can still feel the love he’s pouring into you.
“fuck, fuck—, fuck” strings of curses continue to spew out of his mouth as the thrusts of his hips begin to falter
“gonna fucking cum baby— im gonna cum” his voice cracks, moans staggering as he feels that his heavy cum filled balls are gonna burst any second now.
seeing him struggle to chase his high you clench down hard on his cock, feeling the bulbous tip at the deepest part of your pussy
“ffuuucckk—! oh fuck. fuck—“
reaching your hands out to roam across his stomach, feeling every crooks and tracing the ridges with your fingers. farleigh can’t help the curl tugging at the corner his lips looking your own fucked out state. messy hair with strands sticking onto your face, skin and neck hardly bruised from all his kisses and tits laying pretty and swollen that could make him hard all over again.
you can feel his third load that he’s spilled inside, this time not as much as before. farleigh reaches down to grab at his cock, pulling it out before pushing the tip back inside to neatly stuff his cum into you. you’re sensitive, yet the rub of his tip against your pussy still feels so good.
he’s breathing heavy, the soft smile turning into a smirk thinking of all the fucking you’ve down in the past hours shamelessly like some rabbits in heat. both your eyelids droops heavy, as you return his smile and a soft giggle that pulls at his heart strings
shifting his legs to move you into his lap, he lets out a sigh. sneaking his hands onto your stomach, wrapping his arms around your torso. as you lean back into him, you feel his fingers tapping against your lower stomach, where he was poking from inside a few moments ago.
Warning: Gaslighting, Kidnapping, mentions of drugging, alluding to NON-CON, mentions of pregnancy
Summary: Felix rarely ever kept the people he collected, you thought you would be no different.
Word: 1.2k
The days at Saltburn blurred together. At first, Reader told herself it was because she was relaxing, allowing herself to finally unwind. But then she started sleeping longer than usual, sometimes not waking until noon. She would wake feeling heavy, the morning a haze that slipped away too quickly.
Sometimes Venetia would laugh, brushing a stray leaf from her hair, and say, "You slept through half the day again."
Other times Felix would tease gently:
"You dream too much. I think it keeps you tired."
She wanted to argue, but she could never quite remember when she'd gone to bed.
⸻
When she finally booked her train ticket to see her parents, she felt relief — control slipping back into her hands. But the morning she came down, suitcase in hand, she froze.
Her parents were already seated at the long breakfast table, sunlight spilling across their plates, laughing easily with Felix and his mother.
"Darling!" her mother exclaimed, standing to embrace her. "Why didn't you tell us how magnificent this place is? Felix was so thoughtful, inviting us down."
"Inviting you—?" she stammered. "But my train—"
Felix glanced up from pouring coffee, a picture of calm. "Ah, yes. I cancelled it. You said you didn't want to leave, so I thought it best to bring them to you instead." His smile was warm, affectionate, as though there were no question of overstepping.
Her parents exchanged a look, pleased, as if they were being let in on a shared secret.
At first, she tried to laugh it off, but over breakfast Felix leaned back in his chair, speaking with her father.
"She's been wonderful company these past weeks," he said smoothly, his hand brushing hers beneath the table. "I feel as though we've hardly been apart."
Her mother's eyes softened knowingly. "Well, that's nice to hear. Isn't it, love?"
Her father chuckled. "Better him keeping you busy than us worrying you're moping about alone."
Her protests caught in her throat. It was easier to smile than to try to explain — though later, alone, she swore she never remembered telling Felix she "didn't want to leave."
For two days, her parents were utterly enchanted by the Cattons — the estate, the charm, the easy laughter. Every time Reader tried to pull them aside, Felix was suddenly there, hand light on her shoulder, steering the conversation elsewhere.
⸻
When her parents' visit ended, she made up her mind to leave with them. She packed hastily, hardly sleeping that night, determined to be ready at dawn. But when she awoke, it was already late morning, the sun burning too bright through the curtains.
Her suitcase was still there. But her parents weren't.
Downstairs, Felix looked up from a book as she entered.
"You missed them," he said simply.
"What do you mean I missed them? Why didn't anyone wake me?" Her voice cracked with disbelief. "I told them—I told you—I was going with them."
Felix frowned gently, as though soothing a child. "Darling, you were exhausted. You needed the rest. And besides, your parents said they didn't want to disturb you. They thought you looked so peaceful."
Her skin crawled. She didn't remember falling asleep. She didn't remember anything past sitting on the edge of the bed, suitcase packed, heart pounding with anticipation.
⸻
That night, she swore she would leave. She packed again, heart hammering. She sat upright on the bed, determined not to fall asleep.
But when she woke — she was lying down. The clock showed nearly three in the morning. The house was too quiet, the silence heavy, the room dim, moonlight spilling through the curtains. Her head was heavy again, her limbs sluggish, as though she'd been underwater.
At the edge of the bed, Felix sat waiting, posture relaxed, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
"You do love your sleep here," he said lightly. "Every morning, I think you'll wake early, and every morning you prove me wrong."
Her chest tightened. "I don't know why I'm always so tired."
He smiled, that infuriatingly soft smile.
"Well... I've helped with that."
Her breath hitched. "...What do you mean?"
Felix tilted his head, studying her expression. His tone was casual, almost playful.
"You needed the rest. You'd get anxious, talk about leaving, wear yourself out with worry. So I made sure you'd sleep through it. Quieter that way. Gentler."
Her blood ran cold. "You... did something to me?"
He gave a small shrug, as though it were nothing of consequence.
"Only what was necessary. You see, you don't even notice — and you always wake calmer. It's better for you. For us."
She stared at him, her pulse racing. "Felix, that's not—That's not right, you can't just—"
But he leaned closer, his hand brushing hers, voice softening to something dangerously intimate.
"You're still here, aren't you? That means it worked. It's the reason you didn't run. And now..." His gaze dropped briefly to her stomach, then back to her eyes. "...now you can't."
Her breath caught. He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were simply reality.
Felix smiled again, gentle, unhurried, as though nothing he'd said was extraordinary.
"You're mine. You've always been mine. I only had to make sure you realized it."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood.
"Sleep, darling. Tomorrow will make more sense."
_____
The next morning, sunlight poured into the room, too bright, too ordinary. She blinked awake to the sound of the door opening.
Venetia swept inside, a ribbon in her hair, her expression glowing with cheer.
"Oh, thank God you're awake! We've all been dying to talk to you."
The Reader sat up too quickly, heart racing. "Venetia—listen, your brother—he's been—"
Venetia cut her off with a laugh, sitting gracefully on the bed.
"Yes, yes, I know. He told us everything. About the baby."
The words landed like ice water. "That's not—"
"Congratulations," Venetia said brightly, clasping her hands as if it were Christmas morning. "You must be thrilled. Mother cried when Felix told her. She's already sketching dress designs. Can you imagine? A proper Catton wedding here at Saltburn."
Her throat closed. "You don't understand, Venetia, he—"
"Oh, darling, don't fret." Venetia reached for her hand, squeezing it warmly. "Felix said you'd panic at first, that you'd talk nonsense about school, about your parents... but none of that matters anymore."
The Reader shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. "It does matter. You don't know what he's done—"
Venetia leaned closer, still smiling, her tone lowering like a secret between sisters.
"What he's done," she said, "is love you enough to keep you. And now you'll give him something even greater. That's not something to fight, it's something to celebrate."
Her mouth opened, desperate, but Venetia rushed on, cutting off the words before they could form.
"Father's already arranged for a doctor to visit. You'll have the best care. And Mother's so excited, she's talking about names already."
The Reader's hands shook. "Venetia, please, you don't understand—"
But Venetia only tightened her grip, eyes glinting.
"No, you don't understand. You're one of us now. And once the baby comes, no one will even remember you ever thought otherwise."
A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!
Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.
The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.
As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.
Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.
As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.
You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.
As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.
“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.
You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.
Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”
One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.
“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”
As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.
You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.
“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.
Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.
The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”
As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.
yourusername
Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others
👶🍼💗💋🧸
view all comments
jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️
↘️ yourusername: 💗
caileespaeny: aweee
sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭
↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!
↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃
↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.
user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child
user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂
a/n hi i have explanation as to why i was gone for so long please don’t sue me. i wrote this after watching saltburn and watching 2037633 felix edits. but i honestly forgot how to write so im getting back into it. don’t judge :P
summary it’s 2006 and you’re an american who recently decided to study overseas in england at oxford and there’s one person who just won’t leave you alone
pairings felix catton x american!reader
warnings smut, orgasm control, begging, foul language, creampie/breeding, overstimulation, slight choking, oral sex, not proofread, smoking cigarettes(not reader), unprotected sex, fluff, angst, name calling, daddy kink, praise, 18+ MINORS DNI
chips or crisps?
“can i just get a vodka martini?” you ask the bartender. he nods and quickly scurries off to make your drink.
england is not what you expect it to me. it’s nice. nicer than america in your opinion but the people were something.
one person you just couldn’t shake stood in all his glory across the pub. “he’s gorgeous right?” a redheaded girl says as she walks from his direction towards you.
“uh no not really” you lie. no one in their right mind could think that felix catton was unattractive. he’s 6’5, has a gorgeous smile, and a very very hot body. the only thing about him that bothered you was how he teased you. m
you didn’t know if it was because you liked him or what. “no one thinks felix is unattractive. felix doesn’t even think felix is unattractive.” the redhead continues saying.
“um do i know you?” you ask as the bartender slides your drink across the bar and you had him 4 pounds. “oou an american. i’m annabel” she says.
“hm.” you say and turn to look in felix’s direction again. hes now looking over at the bar where you and annabel are. first hes staring at annabel and then his eyes wander over to you; catching your gaze. you quickly look away not wanting to hold eye contact but for some reason your eyes wander right back to him.
he’s now smiling at you goofily because you got caught staring.
you roll your eyes and turn back facing the bar. annabel walks away after getting her drinks and now you’re officially by yourself again.
just the way you liked it.
you finish off your drink and quickly get a new one.
times passes and more people start filing into the pub; which calls for more drinks. “chips or crisps?” you hear next to you and you already know who it is.
“what do you want felix?” you groan and throw your head back.
the way your mouth is open and your neck is exposed makes felix feel a way inside. “is it chips or crisps?”
“felix i swear-“ you begin but he cuts you off. “you swear what love?” he begins and you finally look at him, “you’re you’re slap me? you’ve done that before.”
“what is your fascination with me?” you snap and he looks so amused.
“that,” he says a points at me, “what you just did is my fascination with you love.” furrowing your eyebrows he continues, “the way i get you all riled up without even touching you.” he says and his mouth is next to your ear at the point.
the smell of bourbon wraps around your head and into your nose. “you’re drunk.” you say and he chuckles.
“i’m not. lighten up y/n, you know i like teasing you.”
you can’t really tell if he’s lying so you just stop talking hoping he goes away after he gets his drinks.
newsflash: he doesn’t.
“y/n?” he says.
“what could you want now felix?”
“talk to me, love.”
“don’t call me that.. and no.”
“you just spoke to me.”
you don’t speak this time and he chuckles, “this little game we’re playing,” he begins and gestures between the two of you,” is lovely.” his accent warms you inside.
“i’m leaving.” you groan and push off your chair. you quickly gather your purse and coat before walking out; all while not even glancing at felix.
the cold england air hits you like a truck as you step outside. “it’s awfully cold.” felix says.
you jump at the unexpected sound of his voice. “felix what the hell are you doing?”
“don’t be foolish y/n. it’s 10 at night. i’m walking you back to your dorm.”
“i don’t need you to walk me back.” you say and he shrugs, “i didn’t ask you that did i?”
“whatever.” you begin walking and you can hear felix walking behind you.
after about 5 minutes of walking he finally speaks, “so y/n why don’t you like me?”
you ignore him but he won’t take that for an answer, “y/n answer the bloody question.”
you still don’t answer.
“for fucks sake,m y/n.” he says and he sounds upset. “whatever.” is all you hear before a hand wraps around your wrist pulling you between a small alley.
“felix let go.” you groan in annoyance that he won’t just leave you alone. but behind your little act, you want him to bother you; in more ways than others.
“stop acting like i don’t exist.” he begins as he gets close to your ear, “stop acting like i don’t have an effect on you.”
“you don’t.” you whisper and that pisses him off more.
“y/n,” he scoffs and you feel yourself beginning to get wet,”you act the way you do because you know, everything i do makes you feel good.”
if only he knew how true that statement was.
you shake your head, looking up at him. “listen, im not like every other girl who bows down to you. you can’t think i’m just gonna give out.”
“and why wouldn’t you love? i see the effect i have on you. i try to be so nice to you love.. and you push me away.” he begins as his hand slides into your mini skirt. “i bet you’re soaking for me.”
you refuse to make eye contact so you look down at his chest. “look at me love.” you shake your head now causing him to grab you by your jaw. “i said look at me.”
you whimper quietly at the feeling of his hand now touching the wet spot of your panties. felix’s eyes soften at your sound, “do i make you this wet love?”
after a few seconds, you finally give into all the feelings. so you nod your head but this doesn’t satisfy him, “words.”
“yes.”
“good girl. now,” he begins before pulling his hands out of your panties; causing you to whimper again at the lost of touch, “let’s go to my dorm. i’m not taking you in a bloody alley, darling.”
with that, he grabs your hand and begins walking quickly in the direction of the dorms. you can’t help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours.. and how long his legs are. one of his steps is 3 of yours.
after another 30 seconds of walking he stops. “you walk awfully slow love.”
“well sorry i’m not-“ you begin but yelp as your feet leave the ground and felix throws you over his shoulder. “felix put me down!” you groan.
“darling we are like 3 minutes away. just let me carry you.” he says and smacks your butt. the stinging feeling after keeps you quiet.
those three minutes pass so quickly you don’t even realize he’s walked the stair of his dorm and is now unlocking the door.
slowly, felix sets you down and points to the bed. “take your skirt off.”
you hum in response before pulling your skirt down. he’s watching you intently with his arms crossed. his button up shirt is unbuttoned halfway down; revealing his sculpted chest.
“now your,” he begins and points at your panties. as you slide them off the moon shines on your glistening folds and a low groan comes out of him.
as you discard of you panties, felix walks over and stands between your legs. “look at me.” you do as he says, “is this what you want?”
felix begins squatting down slowly. “do you want to be mine y/n?” he ask when he’s parellel with your pussy. his hot breath sends shivers up your spine. “hm y/n? answer me love.”
his hands wrap around your thighs. “yes felix.. that’s what i want.” you moan out as he begins kissing your inner thigh.
“well before we start.. call me daddy.” he lips your pussy in between words, “and you only cum when i say so. understood?”
you whimper lightly, “yes daddy.”
you’d never called a guy daddy before but it got you off more than you expected.
“well then,” with that felix’s mouth attacks your folds and clit causing your back to arch in pleasure.
your hands find his hair as he continues licking up and down your slit; ever so often he’ll hum and the feeling it gives almost pushes you over the edge.
“can i cum please daddy?” you ask and he hums something that sounds like a no. “please, please i want to cum.”
the begging and humming goes on for another minute or so until felix stops. “what happened?” you ask breathlessly.
“you tasted delicious darling, but i don’t want you to cum until i’m in you.”
he quickly pecks you on the lips before rolling you onto your stomach. you can’t see what he’s doing but his shadow cast on the wall as he stands.
you hear his belt being undone and soon his hand cupping your ass. “god, you’re perfect darling” he groans as his hand slides down; his accent is music to your ears.
“thank you..” you moan as he moves his dick between your wet folds. “thank you what?”
his hand wraps around your throat, “say it y/n.” the way your name rolls off his lips makes you feel so good. “thank you daddy.”
“good girl.” with that he slides in. you couldn’t see how big it was but you could definitely feel it. you moan in pleasurable pain as he stretches you.
doggystyle wasn’t always your first choice of positions because after a lot bit it was too much. every thrust would hit your cervix and begin hurting but with felix: it felt good.
“so- damned- tight.” he says and thrust harder in between words. you dig your face into the comforter moaning.
his hand snakes around your body to the front and begins rubbing your clit in small agonizingly pleasing circles. “felix-“
a sharp smack hits your ass, “that’s not my name y/n.”his hips continue to smack into you as he fucks you senselessly. “what’s my name?”
“fuck i need to cum.” you moan and he smacks your ass again, before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you up towards his chest continuing to fuck you. the new position caused him to hit your g spot in more ways than before. “what’s my name?” he ask through gritted teeth.
you’d never felt this kind of pleasure with anyone before. “can i please cum, daddy?”
“that’s what i like to hear.. but no.” his hand continues massage your swollen bud as he breathes heavily on your neck; fucking you maliciously. “god, do you feel god. all wet for me.. letting me fuck you to no avail like daddys slut.”
“please can i come daddy? please.. you feel so good.” you moan,
he pushes you back onto the bed, holding your by the neck; keeping you in place. “please daddy can i cum?” the feeling of release deepens so much and you can’t take it.
“i can’t take it.” you say through pleasured cries. the way he rubs your clit and hits your g spot repeatedly overstimulates you.
“yes you can and you will y/n.” he begins, “you’re mine now. all mine. no one could fuck you like i do. don’t you agree?”
you nod while whimpering out hushed “yes daddy”’s
“good. do you want to cum?”
“yes, yes please.”
“beg. and make sure it’s loud. i want everyone in this dorm to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock.”
“please daddy. please can i come? i want to make you feel good.” you plead and you have to admit: you can be louder.
“that’s not loud enough darling.” he says and stops rubbing your clit. the lost of friction causes you to whimper. “louder.”
“please daddy. i need to come. please, i can’t take it anymore.” you grab the sheets of his bed and grip them tight as an anchor as he fucks you.
“louder y/n, you’re almost there.” he groans. you can tell he’s getting close as well. his grip on your hips has tightened and you can feel his shaft pulsing slightly against your walls.
his fingers touch your clit again and you moan loudly, “oh my gosh, can i please cum daddy? you feel so good in me. i want to cum all on your dick.”
this time you’re so loud he’s even threatened to cover your mouth. “cum love. milk my cock like i know you’ve wanted too since we met”
at the sound of his permission, you release your orgasm. white flashes take over your vision as you release what felix has took his time to build up.
he continues to fuck you through your orgasm causing more pleasure. moaning loudly, you arch your back towards him. “holy hell, you’re so tight around me.”
he groans and pushes your hips into the bed. his thrust begin to slow and become sputtered movements. “you were made for me y/n.. so perfect.” he groans as releases hot white spurts that coat your walls.
the way he talks to you turns you on even more as you come down from your high. he continues to fuck you slowly as his cum drips out of you and onto your clit.
“fuck y/n..” he moans softly as he pulls out slowly. you continue laying down trying to catch your breath as he stands.
you hear things being more behind you but you’re too weak to turn your head and look. after a few seconds, you feel felix straddling you. “roll over.”
you do as he says to reveal he’s holding a cloth. “open your legs for me..”
slowly, you open your legs to reveal your swollen sex. “you did so good love.”
felix squats lowly and begins wiping you up. “thank you.”
smiling at you he continues,”but you know.. you never answered my question.”
౨ৎ synopsis: after seeing you all dressed up for dinner, felix can’t wait to get you alone.
——————————————————————————
you giggle against felix’s lips as he backs the two of you up to his bedroom door. he smiles into the kiss, hands roaming your body as he fumbles for the door handle, not wanting to break away from you to find it. pushing the door open, he pulls you inside and spins you around pressing your back up against the doorframe as it closes with the slam.
he breaks the kiss, putting his hands on either side of your body and leaning back to tower over you. he looks down at you with a boyish grin plastered across his face, admiring you.
“fuck baby” he groans. “that dress is fucking perfect on you. could barely eat dinner.”
he plants a sloppy kiss your cheek, eyes wandering across every inch of your body and the beautiful black evening gown that covered it. felix had bought the dress for you a few days ago, but tonight was the first time you’d worn it.
you’re shaken from your thoughts as felix reconnects his lips with yours, sliding his knee between your thighs spreading them apart. you gasp in anticipation, earning a low chuckle from felix sending vibrations through your body.
“christ doll, we have haven’t even gotten to the good part” he grins as he turns his attention to your neck, placing lazy, sloppy kisses across your skin, making sure to leave a few marks behind.
“felix” you hum practically begging him for more, “please”
he laughs and flips your body around so your face is pressed against the back of the door. “whatever you say doll” he murmurs before reaching for your zipper and practically peeling your dress from your body.
you hear him groan softly as he takes in the view of your bare body, and shortly after, the sound of his belt being undone. you shiver with excitement as one of his large hands reaches up to palm your breasts while the other moves down to your throbbing cunt, slowly circling you clit.
a soft moan escapes your lips as felix slips a finger inside of you. “that feels good huh” felix says planting a kiss on your neck.
you can only hum in agreement as he starts to move his finger in and out of you, while his other hand continues to massage your breasts. felix begins to pick up his pace causing you moan louder, head swimming with pleasure.
felix slows down. “gotta stay quiet for me, yeah doll?” felix says as he brings his hand from your breasts up to your mouth, sliding his fingers inside. “i want to be the only one to hear your pretty noises.”
as he picks his pace back up again, you can feel your pleasure building. you moan, which is somewhat stifled by felix’s fingers in your mouth as you squirm, pressing yourself as close as possible to his body. just as he’s about to take you over the edge, felix pulls his fingers away causing you to whine in protest.
you turn your head to look at him, eyes met with felix’s grin, filled with both amusement and adoration. “want you cuming around my cock baby not my fingers” he chuckles.
before you can protest further, he’s slamming his lips against yours. felix wraps his arm around your waist and guides you to his bed, gently pushing you back onto the plush material before climbing on top of you. “so fucking perfect” he says, admiring you.
he lowers his body to yours kissing your neck as he slips his cock into your cunt. you gasp at the feeling, felix also groaning in pleasure as he enters you.
“fuck baby, you feel so good” felix says as he begins to rock his hips against yours slowly.
he quickly begins begins to move faster, settling at a pace that has you clawing at his back and moaning his name against his lips. “tell me when your close doll” he says “wanna watch that pretty face when you cum”
you moan, hardly coherent with the pleasure coursing through your body “i’m close felix”
your legs shake as felix brings you over the edge, never altering his pace as he guides you through your orgasm.
“such a good girl. fuck” felix groans, finding himself close as well. with a final few thrusts, he finishes, not taking his eyes off of you for a second.
with a satisfied sigh, he collapses on the bed next to you. “such a perfect girl. i fuckin love you doll” he says, rolling on his side to look at you.
Okay, okay, so he beat someone up on campus, so fucking what?
It's called being a good fucking person. Look, you do not let some utter chav get away with cat-calling a girl in the middle of the dining hall, and then a frat party, where she might have been roofied if she'd have been dumber (thank god she wasn't), and in a fucking library, just because she couldn't cause a scene. Three strikes and he was out.
But apparently, so was Felix.
"No, Sir, I'm telling you, he was--'
"Professor Walker."
Professor. Asshole. "Professor. I apologise. Professor, I'm telling you, he was being absolutely dodgy!"
"Mr. Catton, I'd advise you to stay calm--"
His fist slammed on the table, the pens on this useless waste of a PhD's desk bouncing, seemingly in tune with Felix's blood pressure. "YOU are a philosophy professor, yeah? Don't bloody talk about practical shite to me, and don't tell me what to do about what happens in the real world, when your whole career is telling people to overthink everything and keep their heads in the clouds!"
Uh, whoops.
His adrenaline shot down as fast as it had shot up and all of a sudden, he was acutely aware of his ranking in this shithole.
Student.
He's lucky he wasn't expelled.
Because the philosophy 'professor' said "young minds often reject new ideas".
Figures.
He got let off with a warning, an extremely disappointed voicemail from his mother (Felix, dear, you know philosophy was my major, that was a horrid joke to make), to sit in on one month's worth of philosophy lectures - surprisingly, without charge - and a mandatory weekly anger management session for the rest of the academic year.
That last bit was what he was most chagrined about.
He did not need a bloody shrink. GOD. He was fine. He just couldn't handle the philosophy 'professor' telling him to 'stay calm' when he was perfectly calm. Maybe he knew that would set him off. Any class with Felix in it is sure to get more listeners. So maybe it was this Professor Walker mooching off his campus-wide popularity.
Having to miss classes wasn't exactly on your bucket list, but your body was far less used to Oxford winters than you'd expected, and so the flu decided to scrape a week off your lectures. You made up for it, though, being a swot on your first free week of Uni, and not needing to catch up on much.
However, there was definitely no chance your professor took too kindly to your absence, seeing as psychology was your major, and she expected you to be there, rain, hail or shine. Star student, you were not, but the only one taking it seriously, you were.
So here you were, sitting in front of her as she regarded you. "You need extra credit."
"Yes, Professor."
"Your career path?"
"Uh... undecided."
"Career focus?"
"Psychology.' That, you knew.
She hummed, shaking a packet of sugar before ripping the corner. You watched the tiny, crystalline cubes get engulfed by the brown of her coffee.
"You should try going into therapy."
For a moment, you almost chewed her head off.
"As a career.", she clarified, almost snorting as she saw your expression. "You interact well with people, and you have a good grasp on the subject." Ah. Say that properly, bitch.
"Here's what I'll do.", she declared, taking a large sip of her coffee - you were almost 90% sure she'd made it Irish earlier - before sliding a small, stapled pile of papers over to you. "I'll give you all the tools you'll need. See if you can get them memorized and come back for a solo quiz later this week. Then, you can begin conducting."
Conducting?
You skimmed your eyes over the stack of paper. Weekly mandatory anger management sessions. Split second, and you thought it was for you, because maybe she had heard you mentally call her a bitch.
"An extremely hardworking and well-scoring student recently got into an altercation on campus, on grounds.", she explained, and you nodded, your eyes not leaving the stack of paper.
'Conducted by' : blank. You supposed that's where you were supposed to sign.
"Although we have a strict policy against harrasment and conflict, none of the three parties involved has openly stated discrimination. The only solid thing the university has got is a confession from the initiator and witnesses from the side of the victim. But given his clean record so far, we have resorted to only this. Sessions to contain any such future outbursts."
Who even was this kid, and why was he your form of extra credit? "But I'd be using him as a lab rat, basically."
"Come again?"
"I'm not qualified or licensed to conduct these sessions, so I don't think--"
She waved you off, the bint. "It's a mere formality, no need to put stock into it. That's not to say you can slack off, half-arse it, either, but he's had no history of violence and is known to be a relatively good-tempered student."
Then why the fuck?
"We figure he can be let off easy - we'd never take sides, so this is off the record, but he was justified - and you can get extra credit, and the victim can be appeased. Quiet and a win-win-win."
The coffee now completely drained, she watched you think it over while staring blankly at the space in which you needed to sign your name. Inhaling deeply, she leaned over, gently prying it from you and flipping the page. "This bit, very important. Sort of like an NDA. No, maybe... an ANS. Agreement Not to Sue. But less official."
"This looks more like summat he should be signing. Basically, since I'm not a licensed therapist, if he doesn't get better, or gets more fucked, the Uni isn't to blame?"
"You need to sign it, too. You'll have to record the sessions, as well."
"So you know I'm not 'half-arsing' it?"
"So we know he's coming to them. But yeah. That too.", she smiled, tilting her head. "You in?"
Well, yeah, you kind of had to be, seeing as she cut marks for your absences out of sheer fucking spite.
You nodded and so did she. "Brilliant! Sign here."
Scrawling your sign - that you came up with in the eighth grade instead of fucking having fun like a kid - on the blank spots her manicured nail hovered over, you bit the inside of your cheek. Was it weird that they weren't telling you who it was?
Was it weird that the sheet had been blank when it was brought to you, meaning whoever this bloke was, he had no clue what was coming?
"A student?! A first year fucking student? I'm getting a kid-shrink?"
"It's a mere formality. Given your record, we're sure you don't even require these sessions--"
"Professor! Come on! Can't we just say I took them?"
It's quite interesting how chill a philosophy professor can actually be once you get to know them personally. And Walker was cool, as Felix had come to find out in the past couple days of knowing him.
"Afraid not. But I'm sure she's been adequately trained by the psychology in-charge to handle these sessions."
"Why can't the in-charge do it? Would actually do summat!"
"She's busy."
He scoffed as he was handed a stapled stack of papers. "What's this, then?"
"Read it."
He did, for a while, before looking up at him with raised eyebrows. "What is this, a Liability Waiver for if she bollockses my mental health by accident?"
"More or less."
Sweet lord. "Oh, fantastic, so I'm a scapegoat, a trial for this first year, am I? See if counselling is her 'thing'?"
"You know, a more positive attitude towards this, and you might not have to go the whole year.'
"What, sayin' she'll give up?"
Walker looked almost amused, snorting. "No. I'm saying you might actually get a solution for your rage issues."
"I don't have--'
"You could learn a thing or two, Felix. Learn to calm your temper - no matter how non-existent you claim it to be - and learn how to be happier."
"Brilliant. A first year is going to teach me about the joys of non-reactivity, then? Brilliant. We'll see her keep her temper when a girl's being near groped in front of her, hm?"
"We'll need to have you sign there and there and twice on the last page, please."
"She got this before me?", he muttered, glaring at the signatures already present on the pages. "So she got to decide whether she wants to deal with me, not the other way around!? Unbelievable."
"Sign, please, Felix."
He grumbled under his breath, attempting to recall whether he'd ever even heard your name before, as he messily signed something that was probably not his signature, on each page. He has no clue what his signature is. He figured he'd sort it out when he takes over the family estate (or business), or whatever.
"None of these look the same."
"Well, this is hardly official is it? 'S long as my name's there, it's not a problem, yeah?"
"You're gonna give me a migraine before my first week as your student advisor.", he muttered, accepting the sheets back anyway. "Okay, good. Sessions start Saturday."
Fucking spectacular, now this girl was taking his weekends away.
WEEK 1
Your pen twirled between your fingers and the inside of your cheek practically split open with how frequently you'd been resorting to chewing on it lately.
You'd passed the solo quiz that your professor had set up for you, and she'd declared you 'adequately trained' to take these sessions.
Okay? And? What, were you supposed to jump in joy?
Late. This arsehole, 'Felix Catton' was his name. You just... try as you might, you couldn't place a face to the familiar name. And that face was almost ten minutes late.
But one thing you would not do is get up and leave until the hour was up. Work ethic. Wait till the last moment. With any luck, he wouldn't show up at all, and you could complain, and get extra credit some other way--
The door exploded open, and shuffling, throwing-off of a coat and grumbled-settling-down was heard, as you looked up from your notes.
"You're the first year, then?"
Oh, THIS GUY?! Whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah, you remembered him!
You nodded. "Yes. Uh, just a second, Mr. Catton.", you muttered, angling the video camera right, ignoring the scoff it elicited from the junior.
"I'm two years older than you."
"What would you like me to call you?" That plug from the Christmas party who tried to overcharge me?
He watched you fiddling with the device for a bit before sitting up, one leg crossed over another as he huffed, playing with his rings. "Felix is fine."
"Felix it is, then.", you mumbled, finally getting the thing to work, before clearing your throat and sitting up. Here we go. "So, Felix.", you began, trying to smile off the awkwardness. "We're here to just go through these Uni-mandated sessions, so that you may have an insight into conflict resolution and--"
"Do you wanna know why I'm here in this bloody session?"
You glanced over to the camera for a second, feeling like you were in a fucking Office episode, before nodding, gesturing at him to continue. Fuck, if this shite went on the record and he said summat so unbelievably stupid you were at a loss for words, you could kiss your extra credit goodbye.
"I punched a lad. Hard, till his nose bled and he couldn't stand up without support."
You nodded, flicking through the file of information you'd received from some advisor of his, Professor Walker. Nice chap. "Yes, I see that. How does that make you feel? Did it make you feel powerful?"
"Mhm.", he hummed, nodding as he glared at you, a sort of smirk on his face, like he thought this would have you freaking out about his sadistic tendencies. It's funny he thought you cared.
"Happy?'
"Very."
"I see. But one thing that's conveniently missing from your file.", you replied, eyes flicking accusatorily to the camera before reaching his eyes once more. "Is why you did it.", you stated, your fingers intertwining as you looked at him with rapt attention.
This seemed to throw him for a loop, the self-satisfied grin fading for a moment.
"Why'd you want to know, sweetheart? So that you can record me confessing to the crime on tape?", he mused, gesturing at the camera before reclining back in his seat, his arms crossed. "Because I'm sorry to disappoint your wide-eyed, freshman dreams, but I've already said it, on the record."
You frowned, tilting your head softly for a moment. "No, I'm asking, because I truly don't know. They wouldn't give me your identity, let alone your case."
"Well, I hit a lad. For cat-calling a girl."
He observed your face almost twitch for a moment, and he figured you were about to throw the camera at him, but instead, you switched it off. "And they're punishing you for it?", you asked, leaning your forearms in front of him, basically whispering although the camera was off.
Huh. Whoa, maybe you were on his side.
"Yeah, isn't it mental?", he scoffed, leaning in, too. "I figured I should get some sort of medal, y'know? Maybe a commendation from the dean."
"I wouldn't go that far, but it's good, what you did.", you laughed, softly.
"Exactly!", he huffed, a genuine smile now on his face as he leaned back, rubbing his hands over his jaw. "Wow. I- sorry, love, but I didn't expect us to, like, agree."
"No, no, yeah, totally! I thought you were a hotheaded twat. I didn't expect...", you exclaimed, gesturing at him. "Reason."
"Right. Well, okay, great! Uh, phew, yeah?"
You nodded.
"So, yeah, this is cool. We'll just... you'll take care of it, won't ya? Thanks, you're a peach.", he grinned, standing up and not believing his bloody luck!
"Hey, hey, where are you going?"
Turning, he frowned. "Well, we agree. So you'll talk to your in-charge, and say I don't need it, yeah? Oh, oh, you want me to stay the hour so you can, like, log it in. Yeah, yeah, got it.", he mumbled, nodding eagerly.
"What? No." He was, uh... clearly not on the same page as you.
His smile faded slowly. "What?"
"We've got weeks left of this."
"Yeah, but. Wait, I thought you agreed with me."
"I do. It's bonkers to punish you, but, it's mandatory, so."
"'So'? So, go do summat about it, then!", he cried, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Tell 'em there's nothing to work on!"
"I'm not just going to--"
"WHY?!"
You almost flinched. God. Maybe he did have anger issues.
"WHAT'S IN IT FOR YOU?!"
Oh, oh-- uh oh. He didn't even know why you were doing it, and you were sure he'd blow five gaskets if he did.
"Shut up and do what you were instructed to do." Lord knows where you'd got the balls to talk to a junior like that.
Reaching over to turn the camera back on, you began again. "What would you like me to call you?", you repeated.
"How about I call you something and we can workshop sm'n out for me later?", he grumbled under his breath.
"Sorry? You weren't audible. What was that?"
"Nothing. Felix."
"Felix.", you echoed, nodding. "We're here to just go through these Uni-mandated sessions, so that you may have an insight into conflict resolution and live an overall, controlled and more fulfilling life and have a more fruitful experience here at Oxford.", you read off the script, jaw clenched, mirroring his dirty look.
"Yes, I'm aware, thank you, freshie."
"I'd like it if you adressed me by my name. You already know it from the sign-up form for the sessions, but I am happy to repeat it if you wish.'
"Sign-up form?", he scoffed, looking directly at the camera. "Is that what they're calling it on the record?"
"That is what it is."
"Sweet Lord, it's a Liabil-- hey.", he grimaced, narrowing his eyes at you as you kneed him from under the table.
"Right. Y/N. Am I supposed to call you 'Doctor', too, freshie?"
"Just my name is fine."
He rolled his eyes, his hands fiddling with his rings. "Let's begin with your recount of the incident."
How many bloody times?! He was about to explode.
~~
You ended the session at exactly one hour, because you couldn't take this moron anymore, for fuck's sake.
He didn't object.
Shutting off the camera, you wordlessly packed up your things, stuffing them into your bag.
"Are they payin' ya?"
You snorted, zipping up your bag before slinging it over your shoulder. "No."
"Fuckin' snake."
"How am I a snake, Felix?", you sighed, tapping an impatient foot on the floor.
"Pretending you're on my side and that. Was that just to get information for the therapy part of it? Because that was a bitch move."
"What? No, I genuinely think it's odd that they're punishing you for something like this."
"Then why?! What could they possibly offer a fresher? They wouldn't increase your scholarship for shite this petty, so-- wait. EXTRA CREDIT?!", he gasped, standing up startlingly quick. "You're doin' this for a couple points of extra credit ?! WHAT?!"
"So what if I am?", you asked, schooling your face and your voice to be the picture of calm. "Either way, these sessions are mandated if you don't want this to escalate. It'll be over before you know it."
"EXTRA CREDIT?!", he practically shrieked, as he followed you out the door. "How bloody pathetic! You're going against what you know is right for extra bloody credit?! Just fucking study!"
"It'll be over before you know it, Felix."
"For the rest of the academic year, I have to come to you every Saturday and listen to you blabbering on about how to 'take deep breaths and count to ten'.", he scoffed, incredulously, easily overtaking you and obstructing your path in more ways than one.
"Doesn't always have to be a Saturday."
Oh, he was about to actually get anger issues.
"This pisses you off, too! Come on, admit it, fresher! You don't like this any more than I do!", he declared, crossing his arms defiantly.
You sort of liked pissing him off. Gave you much more to work with, sadistically. Reaching into your bag, you handed him the tiny blue journal you'd bought. "Here."
"What is this?"
"It's for noting down your feelings. You will have to fill at least one page every day and bring it back to me during our sessions."
He gaped incredulously at you as you shouldered past him. You're giving him homework?!
You glanced at the camera for a second, before shaking your head, the corners of your lips turned down in feigned and exaggerated indifference. "No."
"Because I'll keep it on, mud and all. I fell on the way here."
"You fell?"
"Yeah. Helmet's now my coping mechanism. Calms me, y'know?" That made no bloody sense!
"So you're keeping it on."
'You wouldn't deny me my coping mechanism, would you, Y/N?"
You sucked on your teeth, shaking your head once more. Dirt on the desk, dirt on your laptop, dirt-- FUCK!
"No, it's alright."
He grinned slyly, nodding, before sliding the journal over to you. "I filled it."
"Entirely?" It's only Week 5, what the hell?
"Yes, actually. I'm an overachiever."
You raised a brow, taking it from him and placing it next to his file.
"So. How are we doing today?", you asked, once again intertwining your fingers and placing them on the desk as you leaned closer to the imbecile.
"You're not readin' it?"
Oh, please, like you had no clue what was in there. "No, actually, I've got to directly submit this to both your advisor and my in-charge."
"What?"
"Yeah, protocol. That's why I said to take it one week at a time so we can monitor progress, but it seems you're an 'overachiever' - your words, not mine."
"Can I have it back?" His tone was almost nervous, and you were now even more certain what he'd actually bloody written in there.
You almost smirked before you remembered the presence of the camera. "You want it back, Felix?"
"Yeah, I think I, uh, used a couple of profanities."
"That's alright, I'm sure they'll understand."
"Can I please have it back?"
You shrugged, holding it out for him to take, letting him tug on it for a moment before you released it from your grasp. "Would you like another one? Since you've filled this one?"
"I'll buy my own."
"Very well. I ask again, how are you doing today?"
He huffed, momentarily looking like he was actually prepared to answer honestly. "Great."
"Great.", you echoed, your pen twirling between your fingers. "And define 'great' to you."
"Not shite.", he said through gritted teeth.
"In more elaborate, less crude terms, please, Mr. Felix.'
"I am doing well today. Not bad.", he mumbled, playing with the buckle of the helmet he'd so adamantly kept on that was now seeming a bit too bloody tight. But he couldn't take it off. Not when it was clearly bothering you. "Nothing particularly terrible or triggering has occurred."
"And is that always the standard you measure your experiences on? 'Not bad'? If nothing 'terrible or triggering' has happened, it's a 'great' day?", you asked offhandedly, noting it down. 'Not shite'.
His eyes darted up to you. "What?"
"I said, is that always the stand--"
"No, I heard you. Just... isn't that what everyone does?"
"Do you think it is? Do you think it's what everyone does? Have any of your friends told you it is what they do?"
"What do you do?"
"Me?" Were you allowed to answer this? Is that against some therapist rule? You weren't sure, and you couldn't really ask your textbook right now, could you?
He nodded, mildly intrigued.
"Personally, for me to count a day as 'great', there should be an equal balance of absence of bad things and presence of good things."
"Well, then, I fell off my bike, but I did well on a test. Is that, in your books, a 'great' day?"
"Depends. Which do you weigh more? Is falling off a bike worse than getting a bad grade, or is getting a good grade better than staying upright on a bike?"
"Getting a good grade."
"Well, then, I suppose, there's your answer."
Huh. This was an odd perspective he's never exactly... heard before. Wait, no! This shite is not working, fuck off, fresher!
"Whatever."
"Whatever indeed.", you nodded. "You seem to have a better attitude this week, to the session." He did not. But it would piss him off if he thought that you thought this was working.
"I do not."
"Oh, well, then, pardon me, my mistake. So, tell me. Why do you think it is, that you're not particularly interested in these sessions?"
"Because I don't have anger issues. If a bloke catcalls a girl once, it's whatever - still bad - but whatever. Happens. But if he keeps doin' it, almost roofies her at a party and constantly tailing her, and then tryin' to score in a fucking library, just because she can't yell out at him, that's, like... creep behaviour!"
You nodded. "Yes, you mentioned this, in the first session, and also to your student advisor, it seems.", you replied, tapping the tip of your pen at the bit of the file that mirrored what he was saying.
"And you think that that's a therapy-worthy answer."
"Why do you not think you're going to get anything out of these sessions, Felix? Even without anger issues, per se, everyone could use some guidance in controlling their emotions and resolving conflict peacefully, wouldn't you agree?"
"No, I would not agree. I think that if you're being an absolute prick , then no amount of peaceful talking is going to do anything. You need to get physical. Teach a lesson."
"I see. And you know this works because...?"
"Because he's shut up, hasn't he?"
"Right, but maybe he's still doing it. Perhaps not to that particular girl, but how do you know for sure you've 'taught him a lesson'?"
"Because- well.", he muttered. Shut up, fresher! "He's not that daft! He wouldn't risk another beating!"
"If he's daft enough to do it three times even after she expressed disinterest, Felix, I'm sure he might be 'daft' enough to 'risk another beating'."
He tsked, taking off the bloody tight fucking helmet, and running his hands through his hair. You watched the brown spill through the gaps of his fingers, before your eyes came back to his face. "You're frustrated?"
"Yes, I'm frustrated."
"What do you usually do, when you're frustrated?"
"Certainly not sit in a room with a fresher and 'talk about it'!"
"Right, I suppose you don't.", you replied, smiling. "So what is it you do?"
"I dunno, smoke?"
"Smoke?", you asked, tilting your head, noting it down. "You smoke?"
"Yeah, I smoke. What, you going to turn this into a cancer-awareness session?"
"I'm simply trying to understand you, Felix."
"What is this, like a first date, you learn shite about me, and see if I'm worth anything in your eyes?", he scoffed.
"Would that make it easier to open up?"
"No! God! What high school did you go to? Idiot."
"Oh, so we are going with the first date thing?"
"No- I- you're so stupid! I don't actually care what high school you went to! It was rhetoric!"
His outburst, oddly, was not followed by a calm and infuriating retort, in fact, you just looked back at him, disappointed, it looked like. But that was impossible, because that would mean you gave a crap, which, you couldn't. You did this for extra credit like a fuckin' try-hard, right?
The silence almost devours him whole as he looks into your eyes - why were they so... he didn't even know, that look you were giving him just... freaked him out.
"Time's up. You can leave."
What?! No, no, no, he just got here.
"Already?"
He heard the video camera shut off. "Time flies when you're actually working with me, Felix, y'know?"
"Don't get used to it, I had a shit day.'
You chuckled softly, nodding. "I won't. Have a nice rest o' your weekend, Catton."
WEEK 10
"Hello again, Felix."
"Hi."
"You seem cheery today."
"Yes, actually. I went out last night. Downed a couple pints with the lads. It was fun."
"I'm glad you had fun."
He nodded, pursing his lips as he rocked back and forth, awkwardly.
"Yes, so. If you don't mind, I'd just like to go back to some things that were left unfinished in some of the previous sessions. Let's circle back to your mention of what you do when you're frustrated. Smoke. Anything else?"
He sighed, rubbing his temple as he looked up at you. 'No. Well, if you're talking about last night, uh, drink, yeah, sometimes, but never to change my mood or whatever."
"I see. So that's all you do, when frustrated?"
"Yeah. Smoke."
"How about this. Next time you feel frustrated, instead of picking up a pack of cigarettes, pick up a pen."
"What, write down my feelings like a thirteen year old girl?"
"No, draw. On paper, on a desk, on your hand, who cares? Draw."
"Draw?"
"Yeah. It's worked for me, and you seem to be responding slightly better when I give you real life examples of what's worked and not worked for me, so."
"What, the bike thing from Session 5?! Because I-- Oh, please, you're not that bloody smart! Anyone could've said that, doesn't mean I'm 'responding better' just because you said it worked for you, you're a fuckin' fresher, everything you read in your stupid little psych textbooks would work for you!", he snapped. He didn't even know what half of that meant. He just wanted to say something.
"See, it seems that this is more what you do when you're frustrated, Felix, per my observation. You're free to correct me if I'm wrong, but since our previous sessions, this sort of insulting defensiveness is what I feel you resort to."
"'M not defensive. I just think this is pointless."
"Yes, you've made that quite apparent."
"Well, then how about you just declare me fixed?"
"It's not about declaring you, alright, it's about finishing the minimum duration provided to us by the University."
"Fine."
Silence. "So. I ask again. Why not draw?"
"Fine, I'll draw."
"Alright. Thank you, Felix. Time's up."
"What?!"
"Just kidding. You've only been here five minutes. How about... and humour me here...", you muttered, reaching under the desk and groping around until you pull out two sketchbooks. "We draw right now?"
"What, and then you analyse how fucked I am in the head?"
"Or we just draw. We don't even have to talk.", you replied, handing him the sketchbook. God, this better work. You'd had to draw info from child psych books for this guy.
~~
It took barely five minutes for him to begin talking again.
"What are these pencils?"
"Don't ask me, they're all Oxford-provided."
"What a joke. You know, when I was a fresher, I didn't even let myself think of borrowing anything from Uni, I got all my own shite, and even if I lost it, I'd ask it to be sent over from home."
"Really?" Fucking rich boy cunt.
"Mhm.", he hummed, the scratches of his incessant scribbling almost grating in the silent room, but also comfortable, somehow, blending in with the smooth swish sounds of your own, lazy strokes. "Only the best. Can't afford mistakes, can I?"
Can't afford? You'd researched him enough to know that little existed of the sort for him.
"I suppose you can't."
"Y'know, I fucking lost my shite third week of freshman year. How about you?"
"I'm handling it okay, thanks for asking." You were, in fact, not. Your assignments were all overdue by now, and you were having to pull all-nighters that bled steadily into mornings because of this new extra-credit task you'd taken on, and to top it all off, none of the other Professors seemed to care that the Uni was milking the two of you. Abusing your need to improve your grade - although you shouldn't fucking need it -and subjecting him to these sessions with none of his own volition.
"That's good to hear. How close are you to offing yourself, then?", he mused, raising a brow and licking the back of his molars as his eyes slowly reached yours. Fuck. He was onto you.
You tsked, reaching over and shutting off the camera. "You know I have better things to do than edit this to cut out your little quips, right? I really can't have you talking about offin' yourself."
"Oh, so you're also a drown-in-alcohol kind of person, I see."
What in the everloving fuck-- "God, get a fuckin' life, mate.", you muttered, reaching back up to switch the camera on after silently glaring and counting down from three.
"I'm handling it okay, thanks for asking.", you repeated.
"Huh. Really?"
"Yes. Why, is your school year not going okay?"
"No, it's going spectacular. My parents pay for an afternoon to go off once a week for a useless fresher to tell their son to meditate."
You chose not to respond to that, instead pursing your lips and continuing to draw. A flower, it seemed, your hands wished to create.
"Why do you even need extra credit?"
"I was sick, and I missed a couple classes."
"Oh, and you flunked the tests?", he asked, reaching over to grab your pencil out of your hands and use the eraser on the back of it, before tossing it back to you. Prick, and if that smirk was any indication, smug prick.
"No, actually, I'd already finished a good chunk of the syllabus content my first couple weeks so I did fine in my tests."
"So why?"
He looked genuinely curious. So genuinely curious, that you actually felt like this was a first date and he was an annoyingly inquisitive romantic candidate.
"She just didn't like the absences." Plus, everyone else just took Psych to slack off.
"That's not fair."
"Yeah, well, you beat up a creep for a girl and they're punishing you, so."
His eyes flicked over to the camera momentarily. "That's on the record."
Normalcy is hard to achieve because it's never truly been attained.
Now, this kind of knowledge is only acquired when you take a philosophy class - like you - but since Felix was a PolSci-stuck-up-arsehole, it really didn't strike him that the life he'd lived before you had neither been normal nor happy.
Which is why when he found you and a couple of your friends hanging out by the lawn of a frat party, passing around a spliff, he just couldn't resist.
"Is this your coping mechanism, then?"
He reveled in the groan you replied with.
"Ladies, if you could excuse us?"
You rolled your eyes as all your mates nodded slyly before scrambling up. With hungry and suggestive looks at him and then you, they waved subtly. Spectacular. They already thought you were hooking up and now... fuck.
"Ah. I think we're gonna need that, if you will.", he called, winking as he grabbed the spliff from one of them, before settling down next to you. "See? I'm a celebrity. You should bring that up next time, see if you can't do anything with it."
"What?"
"Like, ask me about that. Incorporate it. 'How's it feel, Felix, being the life of the party, and the apple of everyone's eye?'"
"Incorp-- do you think this is a game? Like this is a play?!"
"Well, yeah. It's basicall--"
"GOD, you absolute prick! I'm here freakin' out about the syllabus, tests, and stayin' up to analyse and collate your bullshit and I have to submit it and study resources for it and--", you paused, catching your breath and glaring at him before taking a hit to calm your nerves. "And you think it's a story, like an improv session, where we add off each other.", you mumbled the last bit out.
"What are you, burnt-out from this shite?"
You didn't respond and he watched the smoke flow above the two of you. "God. You are. What sort of a freshman's burnt out by second term?"
"The kind that has to be a shrink to some anger-issued arsehole."
"Hey, c'mon, you-", he huffed, tilting his head at you. "You don't have to put too much effort into this, it's a formality."
"To you!", you yelled, sitting up in frustration, your elbow on your knee and your blunt in your fingers.
He sat up, too, sighing. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth."
"Worth nothing."
"Yeah, I can tell.", he muttered, hiding a scoff. "Gimme."
You rolled your eyes, but handed him the spliff nevertheless, which he grumbled as he took a drag of. Knees elevated to his chest, he exhaled the smoke. "This is good. Is it American?'
"How should I know?"
"You don't care what sort of weed you smoke? This actually is one of your coping methods?"
"For the love of-- lay off, man!"
"Whoa, whoa, it's a joke!"
"You're a joke!"
He almost laughed at that. Almost, because he'd had quite fucking enough of you. He didn't forget who he was just because you might have changed his perspective a little. He was still Felix motherfucking Catton, a motherfucking Upperclassman. And when he was a fresher, he had to treat his Upperclassmen with utmost respect- no, reverence - so he'll be damned if he's gonna let you sit here and call him a joke.
"Stand up."
"What?"
"Stand up."
"Why?"
"NOW, FRESHER, NOW!" Okay, the startle in your body language made him feel the tiniest bit bad, but still, it was exactly what had been done to him, and he wasn't all whiny about it.
"Okay, okay, I'm up, I'm up!", you mumbled, straightening out your shirt. "What?"
He had no clue what he wanted you to stand up for.
Sure. "Good. You're smart. And how will I be doing that?"
You shrugged. "Take me on a joyride on your stupid bicycle or summat.", you grumbled.
Sure. Let's go with that. Better than Felix's idea of making you do jumping jacks, like his seniors had done to him.
"Wow, maybe shrinks really can read minds. And at least you have one of your own.", he replied, flicking your forehead as he shepherded you over to the exit of the party. Yeah, he didn't think through how far you'd have to walk before you actually reached his bike. Oh, well. Better for him.
"So.", he began, arms swinging exaggeratedly at his side. "Have you heard anything from your in-charge yet? Walker won't tell me anything."
You shook your head. "It's all the same. 'Received tapes. Good work. Keep going.' Like I'm bloody angling for a gold star."
"Well, you're angling for the college equivalent of a gold star, which is a smidge of extra credit."
Shrugging, you seemed to agree. It was a pleasant sort of... stoned sort of quiet for the rest of the walk until his bike came into view. "There it is."
"That's the bike you fell off of after you aced your test?"
"Yeah."
"How?", you scoffed, buckling up the little helmet he offered you "Thing looks brand new."
"What, you were expecting some post-war, ancient bike?", he snorted, clambering onto the seat.
"Yeah, I thought it'd be some rusty, squeaky, rickety thing. How's this supposed to work? Where do I sit?"
"On your own bike's seat.", he replied, gesturing to the rest of the bicycle lot.
"I don't have a bloody bicycle! I'm normal! I walk to classes!"
"How close is your dorm?!"
"Quite."
"Well...", he huffed, taking off his helmet. 'Well, okay, so, just... take one."
"Take one?"
"Like... a random one. Borrow an unlocked one."
"Steal, you mean."
"Semantics."
"I'm not stealing."
He groaned. He had way too much of a heart to punish you like his seniors did.
He watched you grumble before you slowed down, allowing him to jog up next to you. "I'm going to hold onto the handlebar because I wouldn't put it past you to steal my bike and then ask me 'how did that make you feel?' in the next session."
You actually had to stop the bike to laugh for that one.
"Oh, she acts human.", he remarked, crossing his arms across his chest as he regarded you. "Alright, it's not... that funny."
But you just didn't stop laughing.
Well, until you started crying.
Maybe that weed was laced. Yeah, he was feelin' a bit off, himself. Shit.
"I mean, fuck, Felix, mate, you- you know I don't think you should be antagonized like this, yeah? You're... you, you're good, you- you helped a girl, and your anger issues are good!"
Okay, clearly the laced weed was hitting you both at the same time, somehow. Either it was causing him to mishear some sympathy from your end or causing you to express sympathy. Either way, somehow, you were both oddly on the same page.
"I don't have anger-bloody-issues.", he gritted out, tapping his fingers impatiently on the handlebar.
"No, mate, you do, but, like, they're good, you don't have to get all touchy about it. I like it, personally. Think it's good. You're stickin' it to the man and all that."
He scoffed as he shifted closer, flicking your - well, his - helmet back a bit. "You're on thin ice, 'mate'! I told you, I don't have anger iss--"
"You're yellin' at me right now!"
"I'm NOT--", he cut himself off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You're pissin' me off."
"Everything pisses you off! That's why they're called anger issues!', you retorted, and he swore he was close to pushing you off the bike and seeing how many minutes of meditation you'd employ not to uppercut him.
"I don't need your shrink bullshit, and you can't do it anyway! I don't get how you're burnt out, y'know? You half-arse everything!"
He barely knew you outside of these sessions. He was straight up lying, but he wanted to prove that it wasn't that easy to keep your calm when provoked. Especially not by some smart aleck swot-freshman who thinks her psych major means she can read his mind and give him lip.
Ow ow, ow. Fuck. He needed to sit. down. The 'weed' was definitely about to make him pop a blood vessel, because did he just see three stars in the sky run down in front of him? No. Can't be, yeah?
"D'you think...?", you groaned, hastily removing the helmet. "D'you think there was summat in the punch?"
"Think it was the weed."
"Weed doesn't-- oh."
He nodded, gently steering the bicycle to the nearest bench, which was barely a hundred paces away, observing your feet elevated and the pedals rotating on their own as he tugged it along.
Grunting lowly as he sat, he held out a hand for you after you leant the bicycle against a nearby streetlamp. You slumped down next to him. "This is why I don't take Donna's weed, but she swore it was clean."
"Some friend she is."
"Hey."
"Oh, please, come on. She lies to you, gives you laced weed because, what, she thought she knew best on what would calm you down? That's not what a friend does."
"What does a friend do? Take you on bicycle rides across campus?"
"I mean, sure. Why not?", he asked, gesturing around. "It's fresh air, yeah? We had some talkin' happening, as well, sorted out our differences and that, yeah?"
You chuckled, softly, shaking (and lightly clutching) your head. "And what did we sort out?"
"That you're a bit of a cunt. And I'm a twat."
"Second one is accurate."
"That statement just proved the first one.", he retorted, before scoffing and breaking into a fit of breathy giggles. "Fuck."
You watched the world spin for a while, a dizzying amalgamation of shapes and stars and colours and suddenly you were aware of the clothes on your body, the wind in your hair, the saliva on your tongue, the beat of your heart.
And that's when you did it. You weren't sure what you expected or why you did it, but you just ended up kissing him like it was summat you were meant to do next, like a script. Like clockwork.
He, to say the least, was surpised it was you who initiated it. Honestly. He'd always been a very daft person when it came to... well, boundaries, for one. Sane actions, for the other. However, there was something less daft and more... crazed about this drug-induced haze you were clouded in that rendered his self-awareness moot.
And so he kissed back.
Ravenously.
This, it seemed, according to the faux marijuana, was all he ever fucking needed. Poof, no anger issues. And for you? Poof, no stress.
It was wrong, to say the least. Not due to anything besides the fact that there was no logical person who'd put you two together. He groaned softly, almost reverently, as he gripped a couple locks of your hair, a wordless direction for you to get your idiotic arse over here. And you did. The kiss didn't break. You guys should get an award for that impressive feat.
But the real award should be for your desperate, bruising grip to sobriety, the one that eventually led to you pulling yourself away from his lips, breathlessly.
"I know what you're doing."
He wasn't one for biting his lip, so he bit down on yours, instead. "Yeah? What's that, babe?", he asked, fiddling with the button of your jeans.
"You're tryin' to get off the hook of these sessions by claiming conflict of interest 'cause of this."
Oh, fuck, he hadn't even thought of that. Would've been so fuckin' smart, and plus, he'd have got a lay out of it. But he didn't exactly feel like giving a premature end to these sessions that he'd - never fucking admit - grown sort of fond of.
"Or maybe, I'm trying to get off, period.", he whispered, kissing at your cheek.
"Yeah, right."
"Trust issues much?", he murmured, his hand gently sliding into the front of your jeans. "Maybe next session, we should work on that, sweetheart."
No one ever tells you this - lest you experience some form of joy in life - but waking up to good smells rather than any form of sound is heaps better, calmer, lovelier.
And you woke up, not to the sound of your alarm, but to the smell of goddamn butter and toast. Like, fuck, okay. Damn. This is what life should feel like, then?
You groaned, almost ready to scream at how at peace you were, before getting out of bed, rubbing your face. You shot right back in, though. Right. You were starkers.
"Felix?!"
God, you hoped it was actually him and you hadn't had some sort of adventure after him last night.
He practically left skid marks, the way he rushed to the bedroom doorway. "Uh huh?"
"Where the fuck are my clothes?"
"Oh, I put them in the wash."
"Felix--"
"Just kidding. They're in that drawer, there." Across the room.
"Could you get them for me?"
He smirked. 'Yeah."
"'Yeah' as in you will, or 'yeah' as in you could, but you won't?"
His smirk dissolved into an almost fond simper. "You know me so well."
"I'm not walkin' out naked."
"See, what is it with you girls, gosh! As if I didn't see everything last night, now you're suddenly all coy?", he teased, yanking the drawer open and tossing you your clothes, rolling his eyes before turning around so you could change. "Last night count as a breach of, uh, what is it...?"
"Not breach. But Conflict of Interest. Yeah. So, I'm guessing you're free, now. No more sessions."
"Mm. Shame, that. I had some really interesting things written in there.", he replied, pointing to a blue notebook on the bedside table.
"Like what?"
"Like... me realising I'm falling in love with you.", he whispered, softly, hand on his heart. He paused long enough for you to begin to question whether this was dedication to his joke or an actual, sincere fuckin' confession.
"Fuck! Wow! Gullible much? I'm joking, obviously! What, you think I'd have some, like, ten lines written every day, like 'Oh, my love, oh, my love, XOXO, Felix!', or summat?"
"Well, I don't bloody know! Your'e scarily good at the poker face, y'know?"
"Why, thank you, thank you very much.", he preened, tipping an invisible hat in your direction.
"Makin' French Toast. You vegetarian? Or vegan? Nah, I don't care, you're eatin' this."
Groaning, you got up, took his offer of an unused toothbrush, and let him escort you to the bathroom. "These rich-kid-dorm-suites, I swear--"
"Jealous much?"
"I swear to fucking god, you better stop saying 'much' after everything and thinkin' it's funny!"
"Anger issues much?"
"Arsehole much?!"
He giggled, waving at you before scrambling over to the kitchen to make sure his French toast was stil intact. Not before he grabbed your imaginary 'flipping-off' from the air and brought it to his heart, as if you'd blown him a kiss, instead.
Fucking hell. You had to now spend a. money, on Ibuprofen, b. time on coming up with an explanation as to how this happened and why you still deserve that extra credit, and c. energy on having to deal with this Felix Catton guy who you'd apparently come to be relatively fond of.
Spitting out your paste and gargling the remnants out, you walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen, where Felix had laid out the toast on crappy paper plates. "Left over from a party, figured I'd use 'em."
"Thanks.", you nodded, sitting down and biting a bit off one. "It's good."
"Thanks.", he parroted, dropping the last onto his plate before turning off the stove and sitting opposite you. "So, it just violates it all? Just 'cause we shagged, you can't 'fix me' anymore?", he asked, gulping down a sip of orange juice.
"Yeah, summat like that. I might, like, be more inclined to let you off the hook or whatever."
"Mm. What about your extra credit, then? Why don't you just act like this never happened?"
"Couldn't. In good conscience."
"But then you'll be extremely stressed. Might go back to Donna and her laced weed.", he pointed out, taking a bite. "Over the summer, you'll have to catch up on your missing assignments, yeah?"
"Yeah. Fuck. Oh, yeah, I do.", you whined, your forehead on the heel of your palm.
"Come to Saltburn, then."
"What?" What was he talking about?
"My family estate. Come to Saltburn. It's a change of scenery, and it works wonders, I swear. You'll finish everything by first week of summer vacation, and the next month or so, it's all just you-time."
"Why would I come to Saltburn?"
"I just told you."
You sighed. Logically, yes, it did make sense for a change of view. But. You didn't exactly want to get dragged into whatever a normal day for Felix Catton (and Farleigh Start - his cousin, apparently!) looked like.
"It's full of old shite, though, like, ancient stuff. Cobwebs, dusty, grimy, stuffy-- hey! Stuffy and boring. You'll fit right in.", he grinned cheekily, winking as he continued to chew.
Well, fuck.
"Suspicious much?"
'Much'. You were going to strangle this guy in his own mansion, you're sure.
"Seriously, think about it, just us, ice-cream, the sea, summer. Who knows, you could go in a loser and come out with a boyfriend. Moi."
"Oh, please.", you snickered, and he followed suit.
"I just might tell you what's in that diary. XOXO, Felix, yeah, but what'd I write before it? A confession of my love? A death threat? A riddle? Poetry? Secrets?", he mused, waggling his fingers as if to spook you. "Ooh."
You scoffed, shaking your head in amusement as you took a sip of the orange juice.
"Come on. Come to Saltburn. Worth your while, I promise."
