𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗜 . . . 𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲
❛ SPENCER BURBERRY ! ❜
𝗢𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱.                𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟱.
🥩 OXFORDSHIRE, ENGLAND

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

❛ PLEASE JUST CALL ME YOURS ! ❜

𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗦 𝗛𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗘𝗧 𝗛𝗘𝗥. Sometimes he really wishes that he would've never came to the school, never even saw or heard her name. The absolute power that he's gotten taken away from hun all because of that woman. She locked eyes with him at a party and didn't let him out of her sight. She wrapped her french tip acrylic-ed fingers around his heart and dick, and held both of them close. She led him and his mushed brain followed like a little puppy doggy. He didn't mind it whatsoever — he hasn't minded since the moment she walked up to her and she said, "Hello."

If only he could go back in time. Before her eyes met his, before he even came to this school.

All would be good.

All would be fine.

In reality, he knew it wouldn't be. He knew that if he never met her, it would've been hell just seeing her parade around talking to everyone else but him. It would've taken a toll on his mental health — how she would probably never even glance his way.

The bleach blond tips of his curly hair was engulfed the sun that was rising and pushing through the large window. Both bodies were being swallowed by the silk baby pink, loose sheet that hung sloppily off the bed. Their legs being entangled with each other, him moving his arm over to lay on her ass. Multiple large sighs came from his mouth, his eyes on the verge of letting the hot back tears fall down on his cheeks.

His brought his thumb up, scratching the bottom of his chin, he can't believe that he was considering crying over her. He can't believe that she held this much power over him. There is no clear answer to why he's powerless to her , why he can't say no — maybe her pussy game he couldn't stay away from, or the words she used to make him stay. Nothing was clear at all. He tried to clear his head, tried to erase the bad thoughts that had a hold on him because all he wanted is happiness but with her. He rested on his back as he reached is other arm over to the nightstand on his side of the bed. Fingers grasping at one od the pre-rolled blunts and holographic lighter, he slid both of them off from the hard surface.

Slipped the tip of the blunt in between his pink lips before using that other hand to flick the lighter, bringing the flame to the other end. The lines of smoke faded upwards, towards the ceiling of the pinky bedroom filling with sunlight. His well moisturized hand that sat on her ass began to rub it over the silky material, his dick twitching at the vigorous memory of the night before. Pulling the blunt away from his mouth, the man blew smoke passed his lips. He began to kneed the plump cheek in his hand, gripping at the sheet as he pulled it swiftly away from her nude body.

She looked so pretty. Her Hershey chocolate skin gleamed from the bright sunlight and the curve of her ass that dipped into the arch of her back. His eyes kept raking back and forth between the arch and her back dimples.

Those deep, deep back dimples. The ones he would slide his thumbs into every Friday, Saturday and Sunday night as she clenched onto his sloppy strokes. The golden brown skin wrapped around her arm shined under the bright moonlight as she reached behind her to slow his thrusts down. The ones he became so obsessed with making, so entranced by just staring at how she swallowed him whole. Thinking back to last night, he had the time off his life, but she doesn't know how she felt.

But, she wasn't his.

Nothing even close to being his.

He wanted her to be his. But, he couldn't force it.

He has to wait.

Come to think of it, Spencer never really asked her how much she enjoyed their sex life. On his note, he loved it. He was, or is, deeply in love with it. There isn't any moment of their sex routine that bores him or makes him angry. Spencer loved every little bitty thing about the act, most definitely especially with her. Little does he know, she doesn't really like it. Not only does she not like it, she doesn't really enjoy it — she only participates in it with him because it was something to do when she finds out that the guy she's really after is occupied with something else. Or rather, someone else. But, she wouldn't tell him that and ruin his ego or the small situation they have going on since he's got to England.

She started to stir in her sleep as the sunlight hitting the back of her eyelids was ruining her sleep before he slowly whipped his head over to her moving body. The side of his mouth curled up before taking the blunt away from his mouth and slipping the tip in between her parted, still glossy, lips. Watching as she took one nice, long drag, he pulled it away and leaned over before she could blow it back out. Placing a kiss on her lips, collecting the little bit of lip gloss she had.

The girl smiled as she let out the white cloud of smoke, prying her eyes open and face the sight that lay in front of her. Her round cheekbones squished her eyes upward as the smile grew bigger when looking at him ━ the facade playing an actual part in her character towards him. And he was only going along, oblivious, "Hi."

And he couldn't see it because he was just blind.

"Hi," he blew out some smoke, staring into her eyes. "How'd you sleep?"

She giggled her angelic giggle, pushing herself to lay on her side. It was like music to his ears, "Oh you know me, like a big baby."

"How about you?" Her polished toes gently nudged against his leg, her leg draped over his hips once she scooted closer to his warm body. He shrugged, still with a small smile on his face.

She waited for him to say something as he moved the arm that was lying over her back to around her. Observing his beautiful features in the sunlight, she noticed how big his brown eyes were, the little mole that was on his left cheek. She won't deny that he's pretty, always has been since she saw him for the first time under the strobe lights. She was itching to rub her hand on his cheek, itching to bring him closer to her, but it wouldn't last very long for her. "I slept good. Good."

"Just good?" She looked up, her eyes gazing through his long black eyelashes as she sat her chin on his naked chest. Tapping away at her fingers on his chest, she yet again waited for a response while watching his little smile fade away.

He nodded, "Yea, good."

She pouted, lightly pushing herself away from his body when she started to feel the room dim in energy a bit. Her nice body caught the attention of his big, brown deer-eyes, her nipples perked up from the sight breeze coming from the agape window. His smile dropped when she had her back to him, taking an abnormally large puff of the blunt — damn near finishing it. He put it out on the small ashtray on the nightstand to his side before sitting up in the bed and resting against the headboard. He rushed his fingers through his damaged hair while he watched her grab her pearly white silk robe and slip it on. She walked through her room, moving the curtains to reveal the large princess-style bathroom.

It seemed as if when she turned around, all the excitement of when she woke up had left his body. Everything draining away from his face once he began to think of all the possible outcomes of him saying every little thought that wandered his mind.

The princess in question, Effie Margaux Koach. Only daughter and child to Erykah and Leon Koach. Her little family being among the richest familes in England, all because of her father. In 1897, Koach Motors was opened in London by Leon's great-great-great-grandfather, making the whole family rich as skunk. Everyone who was everyone flocked to the car brand, which soon turned luxury. Effie has been very grateful to come from such old money, but she did use it to her advantage, especially at school. Effie did her part in getting good grades in her classes, surpassing a lot of other students and gaining the valedictorian status. So, the rumors that said that Effie's father paid off the school board to set her up during school have been proven wrong. But, that was only information that she was given. Not proven.

Though, she can't deny that she doesn't like the attention — whether it be good or bad. And now, in her third year at Oxford University, Effie is the one girl you want on your good side and never on your bad side, at all.

Rules.

When it comes to Ms. Koach, there is most definitely rules that you have to follow upon meeting her. Or simply, just knowing the woman.

Rule number one, always look her in the eye. Effie really prides herself on holding her head up high and making sure other students know who's the boss. So, making sure you keep direct eye contact just so she can see you falter under her attention.

Rule number two, Never and I mean never, show her out at an event. Whether it be a party or a school event, never ever put yourself out there to where you are the center of attention in any sense. She's not going to make the rest of your time here fun.

Rule number three, make sure you watch what you say around her. This is a rule that she's made up for herself, but over the years people have adapted to who she is as a person. And saying absolutely ANYTHING that will even chip at your reputation at Oxford she will take and use it against you. Her superpower: you would never think it was her.

And rule number four, never think that you'll fuck with the man she's fucking with and think that she'll never know about it.

Girls believe that they'll get away with sneaking around with him, they thought wrong. Every time.

"Hey, have you thought about what you're doing for your birthday?" He tried to spark some conversation from under his dim thoughts.

Effie walked out from her bathroom, her toothbrush in her mouth as she became visibly irritated at the question. Her expressive eyes washed over in worry at the thought of having no plans for her birthday, it was inching closer and closer. Effie's big twentieth was happening at the end of the December month and she has no idea of what she was going to do for it. Effie being Effie, when her birthday rolls around, she is expected to plan a couple of months ahead so it could be detailed to the last point. A confused and muffled, "Hell, I have no idea."

"I don't have any plans, don't know who to invite or anything," she trudged back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste in the sink. He chuckled a bit, knowing she'll find something to do quickly. And he went back to whatever feeling he was dealing with before she came back into the room.

The lighter skin male listened to her turn on some music, then softly walking away before hearing the faucet squeak and the water beginning to slap against the cast iron material of the clawfoot tub. The silk sheet only covered his bare dick, the rest of his naked thighs and body on display for anyone who could walk into the room right about now.

"I should probably just leave while I have the chance," his mind began to wonder, looking around the room that he'd seen multiple times, on numerous days.

The naked male sitting in the pink covered bed is named Spencer Burberry. His bleached tips of curly hair was done out of impulse, he needed something to pull him from the hundreds of other basic students that walked campus. Spencer Burberry was born in America, his mother and father separated when he was only eleven, which caused him to act out when he got to middle school — all of his bad behavior got him expelled from a lot of private schools and that means a lot of schools. Spencer's mother soon became irritable, too stressed out that she couldn't handle him anymore. So, he was sent to live with his estranged father in England and his only option was to go to Oxford.

During the second month of the first term, Spencer was met with Effie as she was assigned to give him a little tour  of the university when he arrived. The whole tour he couldn't stop looking at her, acknowledging her beauty and the faint accent she had. He noticed the sparkle in her eye when she talked about what she wanted to be once she graduated. The two started to see each other quite frequently ( not on purpose ) more in the hallways, they'd bump into each other while going to class or even around the city.

Quickly, Spencer started to fall for the young Koach woman. Beginning to notice that he couldn't do anything about his feelings when he realize who Effie was. The whole popular, rich girl that had her feet kissed with every step she took. Dare he say he loves her — kicking himself in the ass for falling for the prissy princess. And he doesn't even know how she feels.

"Why when I leave and come back, you always look like a lost puppy?" She giggled softly, waltzing back into her room to only find Spencer hunched over in her bed. She untied the smooth robe she wore to cover up her naked body, falling off of her shoulders before throwing it on the small plush bench at the edge of her bed.

Spencer blinked, moving his head around, glancing around her room, "Nah, I'm just thinking about shit."

Effie got to some drawers in her room, opening a few the held her many moisturizers, lotions and body oils that kept her skin so velvety — why she always smells so good that you wanna stuff your face in her neck. She cocked her neck to the side, obvious eyes waited for him to elaborate, "Thinking about what?"

"Nothing, it's fine," Spencer flipped the sheet back, his feet engulfing in the beige carpet when he stepped down from the high bed in the middle of the room. He shook his head as he searched the ground for his clothing, sticking his ass into the air.

Effie reached into another drawer to fish out a nice cotton thong, one with a little white bow on the front, the one that was a favorite of someone close to her. Very close. He told her that he liked them so much, that it caused her to buy multiple pairs of the same color — the same coquette looking bow on the front. She slipped her oiled legs through them with a smile on her face, sliding it up as Spencer did the same with his boxers, "Clearly it's something, Spence."

Spencer rose up with his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned, he twisted around the other piece of clothing up in his hand. His mind twisting with worry — the same way he twisted his shirt. He turned around to look over at Effie as he stretched his back, raising his arms above his head and watching her contently snap on her matching white bra. She adjusted the straps— "Why aren't we ... a thing?"

Effie looked up in confusion, her eyes squinting towards the young man in her room who has yet to gather the rest of his things. "What?"

"I mean, I just understand what we're doing. This—this whole 'I stay over and we bang and then I leave' thing. What is it?"

She huffed, slapping her hands against her thighs, "What do you mean, Spencer? It's just us hooking up."

"Yea, but you continue to see him," Spencer sits on the bed, throwing his shirt over his head as he bounced slightly on the mattress. Spencer was and has been beyond pissed off

"And he continues to see other people—What is this about Spencer?" He was basically bringing up one of her rules. She knew he was messing around with other people, yet, she doesn't know who and that's the one thing that she fucking hates.

Now becoming irritated, Effie trudges around her room towards her closet doors, "Like what are you on about—"

"Do you even like me? Or am I just a piece of dick to you?" Her arm drops after grabbing one of the pink hangers from the pole that held all of her cute and sexy tops. Still holding onto the piece of plastic, it drops to her side before she turns to face him.

"Why do you honestly care so much? When this started you didn't care that I was still talking to him." Effie then pulled the hanger to skim over the two-piece outfit that sat on the piece of plastic. She didn't know if that was the outfit she wanted to wear for the day.

Spencer sighed, standing up from bed and finally going around to find his socks he also threw around as well as his shoes that probably bounced underneath the bed, "I am just not really understanding all the way. You fuck me every weekend and yet, you're with him the rest of the week."

"You don't like me like that," Spencer sighed.

She shrugged her shoulders, going back into the closet to find another outfit for the day, "Spence, we both went into this knowing it wouldn't be a relationship, so what do you want from me?"

He huffed, looking around some more. He bent down to search for his shoes under the frilly bed. Fishing out one, he placed it to the side and then went to grab the other one before standing back up with that one in his hand. It took him a while to find the words to say to her about this tricky situation, "If you really wanna know, I want you to leave him alone."

"Leave him alone and—be with me, Effie."

Effie struggled with her breathing, her chest heaving while she essentially gave up trying to find something to wear while having this conversation. Rolling her full lips in as she stuck out her tongue to cover them in saliva, she rested her hand on the corner of the closet. "I think you should leave."

She couldn't do it. She absolutely couldn't do it. It was not in her power to leave that man alone, he was the one thing that had power over her.

The tension in the room, thicker than a piece of triple fudge chocolate cake, Spencer's eyes softened and he almost lost grip of the shoe. He started to knot his eyebrows, his head shaking in disbelief of what he just heard. "Wha—Effie I-"

"Spencer. Leave my fucking house."

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

October Fifth.                2005

Spencer stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his dark jeans, his head down staring at the linoleum flooring as he walked. The students walked passed him with smiles on their faces as they skipped away, having fun with each other. It seemed as they were happier than him.

Which was true.

Ever since Effie told him to leave her house, he's been simply in and out of it. His mind is could not set itself on one idea, remembering that he was asking a lot of her.

On a count of wanting her to leave the one man alone she would never be ready to ever let go of, he wanted her all to himself so he asked her to let him go. Let that man go and be with him. He'd give her the world if she asked for it and she will ask for it, knowing her.

Spencer pulled out a squished box of cigarettes from his back pocket, then slipping out the dark pink lighter that always reminded him of her. He took one and out it between his lips before lighting the end of it, taking a puff, Spencer couldn't help but to stop in the middle of the walk way. Upsetting whoever was walking directly behind him and scoffing as they passed him by. Spencer looked up while blowing out the smoke, beginning to make eye contact with the person looking back at him. He brushed it off, blaming it on the broken heart he's gotten from Effie.

It's only been a couple of days since she threw him out of her house — well, parents' house. Well, it was her room, so she threw him out of it.

It has been a couple of days filled with absolute grief. She hasn't called, texted — sent a fuckin' e-mailed and its was eating at him. He needs Effie, he just doesn't know if she really needed him at this point.

But then, he smelled Miss Dior Cherie by Christian Dior, specifically.

He looked around as his eyebrows came together, cigarette is hanging loosely between his pointer and middle finger. The perfume smell grew stronger and the sound of a smooth, yet crisp voice came into play, speaking over the other few students walking the floor. Finally, Spencer looked over his right shoulder, seeing her curly bang bounce with every step she took while she spoke into her hot pink Motorola Razr. Obviously talking about something serious. She lays her brown eyes on him, her little bit of a smile dropped before quickly turning away and continuing to walk her way.

                              "Effie, wait!" Spencer put out the cigarette on the column, hurriedly jogging after Effie. He saw her hang up the call by snapping it closed and her starting to walking faster than him. Going through the double doors and into the large library that Oxford had, Effie blew out a breath as she walked passed a couple of dark wooden tables with students at work; studying, reading, deep into their computers. "Effie!"

                              "Shhh!" One of the students whipped their head from out of the thick book on their table.

                              "You 'shhh'," he continued to speed walk after Effie with her designer bag in her left hand. "Ef, please wait up."

He saw her head to the one table that sat a familiar face whose eyes lit up when he saw her get closer. A genuine smile from the looks of it. The guy stood up, standing up towering over Effie and quite taller than Spencer. She got closer as Spencer slowed his walk down a bit, yet still close to where their both were. He watched as was standing up from the chair, engulfing Effie in a hug and deep kiss as he tilted her chin up.

Maybe that's just what she likes. Tall boys with face piercings and wearing multiple bracelets. And that's not what Spencer is nor looked like.She sometime called him the off-brand version of Justin Timberlake from NSYNC.

He could hear him compliment her and her outfit, her hair — her flawless makeup. Spencer wishes that it was him doing that and not the six foot fix idiot that can't stay away from pussy to keep her happy long enough before he's back doing it again.

"Effie—"

"Jesus, Spencer. What, what is it now? What do you want from me?"

"Is this guy bothering you, love?" The guy questioned, pointing directly at Spencer and raising the eyebrow that was pierced with the metal bar.

Spencer looked at Effie, trying to blink away the tears he was building up. "Am I bothering you?"

Effie took a deep breath in, spewing it out before thinking of what to say. "Yes, you are."

He dropped his long arm over her shoulders, cocking a smile towards Spencer. "You heard the lady."

Felix. Fucking. Catton.

As he stared at the woman who's just not understanding that he needs to get rid of him, his shoulder was bumped into and the smell of cigarettes then filled his nose. His attention was broken away from Effie and set onto the person that accidentally, or on purpose, pushed him. A head covered in curls, a colorful and trendy long-sleeve sweater covered his top half as he held onto his thick MacBook. "Whoa. Who's this fuckin' weirdo?"

"Someone who was just leaving," Effie rubbed her lips together as Felix took his arm away and say both of his hands on her hips.

"Hi, beautiful," the one wearing the sweater placed a kiss on Effie's smooth cheek, close to the corner of her lips, causing her to smile at him. Then going back to confusingly look over back at Spencer.

"Didn't I tell you to stop kissing her? Only I do that," Felix backed up, sitting back down in the chair that he was sitting in minutes ago, pulling Effie to sitting on top his muscular leg. While the curly haired one went around to sit in the other chair and set his things down in the top of the table.

He rolled his eyes, "You guys aren't officially official, so she's free for the talking."

Spencer froze in his spot. Not wanting to leave.

Not wanting to leave Effie Margaux Koach in the hands of Felix Catton.

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲．
long overdue. i have so many ideas for
this shit and i'm gonna make it work.