#Quick Two Step [Olly]

[fademirrored]

top left: Olly early in Inquisition top right: Olly late in Inquisition bottom: Olly during Trespasser

[priniya]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 BEFORE US! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. ollie bearman x webber!reader.

summary. a drunken encounter leads to a history straight out of rom–com, turning the world of a formula 2 driver upside down.

notes. reader tells ollie the plot of before sunrise. also, reader is said to be ollie’s age (kinda self-indulgent LOL) maybe part 2 of them meeting in spa? 😁

it was eleven in the evening, while you were having a good time on the streets of hungarian capital city. your actions were not exactly responsible as you were there with a friend of yours that you met online a few months ago. also, you weren’t exactly sure how you managed to strain away from your father and oscar. well, alright — there was a possibility that a train, a sweet smile and a promise to be safe were involved.

honestly, you don’t even know how you ended up in that small bar, but in the larger point of view, you were happy that you let lara drag you there. you already had a few drinks in, you were going back to your booth, when you accidentally bumped into a muscular, tall guy, spilling the drink on your white dress.

“shit, i am so, so sorry.” the boy — because you could easily notice that he must’ve been similar to you in age — spoke relatively slowly, probably out of kindness as he couldn’t tell if you were fluent in english or not. some would call it offensive, but you considered it slightly endearing that the boy tried to be as considerate as possible, knowing that not everyone in the world speaks english.

his face fell to your chest for a tenth of a second, a small cough escaping his lips, before his cheeks tinted pinkish from embarrassment that he even let himself be so blatantly disrespectful towards you. what made it even worse was that the once white dress became see-through.

“shit, shit, your dress. i– here, take this.” he stuttered, swiftly taking off his grey hoodie, letting you take a glimpse of his toned stomach for half a second as his shirt rolled up.

people around you two, suddenly stopped existing and maybe the alcohol you’ve consumed that night was at fault — or maybe it was the charming aura around him, but you honestly couldn’t care less. he was the only guy that wasn’t trying to harass you or make your night less fun and definitely more stressful.

“you shouldn’t apologise, it’s all my fault. i wasn’t paying enough attention.” your voice was loud, but yet still soft enough, so only the boy you bumped into could hear you. “i’m yn, my friend lara is there in the corner booth, do you… um, maybe wanna join us? so i can get you a drink for bumping into you?”

it might’ve been a risky move — he could always say no, laugh at you and go away, thinking you were the most embarrassing person in the entire bar. or he could think that you were a pretty cute, interesting girl that he’d like to spend a july evening with. and, fortunately for you, ollie introduced himself with a quick breath of relief (that he didn’t know he was holding), said that he’d love to join you and buy you a drink, but he was there with two other guys and one of the friends’ girlfriend.

so, upon hearing that, as a responsible human being, you… suggested that they should join you as well, because you really felt like getting to know ollie a tad better. upon hearing that he wasn’t there alone, you nodded with a small smile, before suggesting that it’s not really a big deal and that maybe the four of them would like to join you and lara, who wouldn’t have anything against it since she was a social butterfly, loving bigger crowds.

two and a half hour later, you ended up walking down the cobblestone pathway, while your newfound group of friends was a few steps ahead. lara quickly got along with kimi, eliska and gabriele, so you felt less guilty that you got so occupied in the endless conversation with ollie, slowly trailing behind the group. a month or two later, you were told by eliska that she saw the way you and ollie click and made sure you could get along.

you weren’t sure where the six of you were going, budapest was a gorgeous city, but keeping your eyes on bearman was pretty much enough. he had your arm hooked around his as you slightly started to stumble from the tiny gaps in the path. a giggle escaped your mouth as he whispered a really cheesy joke, his lips inches away from your ear. then, your drunken mind thought that you should come clean with the cute boy about why you’re actually in budapest.

“i have a confession.” you started quietly, your words barely above a whisper. ollie let you continue as he simply nodded. if you weren’t tipsy from all the strawberry daiquiris you had at the bar earlier, you would notice how his body tensed slightly, almost as if he was afraid of what you were about to say.

the first thing that came to his mind was that you had a boyfriend somewhere in monaco, while he was really getting a vibe from you that maybe you were interested in getting to know him as much as he wanted to get to know you. just half a second later came the thought that you knew who he was and it was just as awful. he hasn’t been in the spotlight of motorsport for a long time yet, but he was aware of how people’s perception on things change once they realise what he does, and he really, really didn’t want it to be the case with you.

“this is not something i usually tell people on the day i meet them, but you’re so genuine and so, so nice to me.” your words were coming off as rambling, though despite the lump in his throat, the prema driver couldn’t help but think that maybe he could live with the thought of you bumping into him on purpose if he could listen to your cute rambling for a few more minutes. “and i’m really enjoying spending time with you right now, and-and i don’t want you to think that i’m like a liar or something, because i really am not.”

“hey, breathe. whatever it is, i don’t think i’m gonna perceive you as a liar.” his quiet chuckle with a nervous undertone was enough for you to calm down a bit. his hand dropped to yours, squeezing it for a little more reassurance.

“that’s what i’m really hoping for.” you whispered, looking down at your jointed hands, a ghost of smile lingering on your face. “so, there’s this sport you might’ve heard of — or not, honestly if it wasn’t for my dad, i don’t know if i would, but — gosh, i’m sorry i’m rambling again. alright… there’s, um, formula one, right? i guess you know, because it is a big thing in england, i suppose.” oliver nodded once again, a pit in his stomach growing.

“the thing is… i’m in hungary for that exact reason. there was the grand prix this weekend and i came here with my dad, because, um… he’s a manager of, um, one of the drivers. oscar? he won today, yesterday, technically.”

ollie couldn’t believe what he just heard. he was so scared that you were pretending just to boast about hanging out with formula 2 and formula 3 drivers, while you were having an inner turmoil of your own, weighing pros and cons of telling him that you were the daughter of the mark webber. he could see the nervous expression on your pretty face and his heart swelled, knowing that in those two and a half hours of constant chatter he gained so much of your trust to be told that.

for other people it might seem like it was nothing, nevertheless ollie knew how much fake people you must’ve met in your life, who liked you for your father’s achievements and not you. god, for a moment he felt like crying.

“i was there too.” he gave you a shy smile. before you were able to overthink every possible scenario with the worst possible outcome, his smile widened, his hip gently nudging yours. “i’m racing for prema in f2.” he chuckled at your surprised expression.

bearman, as he was a tad more sober than you, could easily notice the weight falling off your shoulders, once you recognised him, quickly replaced by a blush of embarrassment that flooded your cheeks.

“that’s why i thought i’ve seen you somewhere.” you muttered, scrunching your nose, gears in your brain working overtime. “i’m sorry, it’s— i haven’t really been up to date with formula 2. but i remember you from saudi, i wasn’t there, but my dad was really impressed. everything makes sense now, though.”

“no need to be embarrassed or anything, i’m glad neither of us recognized each other. you made me feel like a normal teenager for once.” he grinned down at you, your face matching his as he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer, but you couldn’t really complain.

you didn’t remember the moment, when your night turned into a reenactment of one of your favorite rom-coms — before sunrise. gabriele, kimi and eliska had to go back to their hotels, suspiciously at the same time, when lara’s curfew was coming. it was truly reckless for you to stay out with ollie till your train back to the place your father had rented for the four days stay in hungary. once you were alone, he made sure to keep you close to him at all times, so if an emergency occured, he’d be able to protect you.

“i feel like i’m in a movie.” your admission was soft as you slowly sat down on the grass in the park, the state of your white dress long forgotten as it’d be green once the sun was up.

“a movie you like?”

“my favorite one.” ollie smiled.

“tell me about it.” he suggested, plopping down next to you, uncorking the wine you two bought earlier in one of those 24/7 shops.

“it’s about two people that met on a train going across the europe.” you started explaining, ollie’s free arm slung across your shoulders once again, making you realize what his love language must be. “he’s american and she’s french, once they stop in vienna, he asks her to get off the train with him and walk around the town with him till he has to go to the airport, because it’s his last day in europe. she thinks it’s crazy, but she agrees and they spend the entire night together. nothing kubrick-esque happens there, all of the action happens during their dialogues. they share opinions and stuff. it’s kind of silly, but they end up in a park, too, with wine and stuff.”

“like us.” he commented, his eyes still lingering on your face as they were, while you were skimming over the plot of the movie.

“like us.” you repeated softly.

“so, what do they do in the park?” ollie asked another question, earning himself a small hum from you as you shifted closer, his thumb absentmindedly drawing shapes on your shoulder. your stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies as he asked all the right questions, made all the right moves, giving you all the right smiles.

“they kiss.” a whisper left your lips, tilting your head to get a better view of his face.

“they kiss.” it was the prema’s driver’s time to repeat the short sentence as you just nodded, noticing the way his eyes flickered to your mouth.

sweet silence embraced the two of you as bearman took his chance and leaned forward an inch or two, cautiously testing the waters. when you didn’t pull back, a smile tugged onto his face, before cupping your cheek with his free hand.

however, ollie didn’t kiss you for a moment that felt like eternity. his mouth just hoovered over yours, giving you a chance to back up, to show him that he read the signs wrong, but you didn’t. your eyes locked with his, before his lips were moving against yours in a sweet, gentle and almost tantalising manner. you couldn’t tell how long were you kissing for, but when the two of you finally pulled away, his mouth was tinted with the red shade of your lipstick, both with messed up hair and slightly swollen lips.

it was almost seven in the morning, while you were sitting at the train station with your hand clasped in ollie’s. the silence between you was truly the most comfortable thing in the world at the moment. budapest was slowly waking up in the background as you enjoyed his presence beside you.

“what do they do in the movie before they part ways?” he interrupted the silence.

“they promise to see each other in a six months time in the same place. they don’t exchange numbers or anything, though.” you recalled, wondering where was he going with this.

“and do they? meet, i mean.” he asked, already expecting the answer as you’d told him it was a trilogy.

“not in the set time. she can’t make it to vienna again, because her grandmother dies, but he does.” you nodded. “but they do meet each other again, eight years later, this time in paris.”

“good thing we’re not jesse and celine.” ollie joked, a grin tugging on your lips as you nod in agreement. “i do have your number, and we can see each other in spa on thursday, if you want to.”

“i do.” this time, you were the one to press a gentle kiss on his lips for a brief second as your train arrived. bearman just grinned back at you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “i’ll see you on facetime then, and in belgium.”

ollie stayed for another five minutes after your train departed. his gaze dropping to the phone in his hand before he quickly sent you a message.

ollie: thank you for making this night amazing for me x

[backtothefanfiction]

The Pool 🔞

Summary: Ollie is still making you feel uncomfortable, but Felix knows how to fix things.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Ollie being creepy, Felix being foxy and a little bit of naughtiness in the pool.

A/N: Just a quick one before I go to bed. The first NSFW/18+ Summers at Saltburn piece. I’ve been busy lately so haven’t had time to write much for this series but count this as me giving you guys a well deserved meal and dessert for waiting. Enjoy.

“Fix have you seen my-“ you stopped short. You thought it had been Felix you saw moving about in his room through the gap in the door, but you were surprised to find Ollie. “Oh, I thought you were Felix.” You hesitated, your brow furrowing as you looked at the young lad stood awkwardly in the middle of your boyfriend’s bedroom. “What-“

“Felix is already down by the pool.” Ollie said cutting you off before you could ask what he was doing there. “I just wanted to grab a book to take down with me.” Oliver began to explain. “He uh, said that I could read that new Harry Potter book everyone’s been passing around once he was done with it. I thought he’d finished it, so I was just looking for it so I could take it down to the pool with me and… you know, read it this afternoon.” He shrugged as he rambled out his explanation to you.

“Oookaaayyy.” You said hesitantly, dragging out the word as your body seemed to tilt itself away from him, as if his awkward creepiness had its own physical form that pushed you away from him.

You knew exactly what book it was he was talking about. Had sat up last night waiting for Felix to finish it so you could have some fun before going to sleep. “Here.” You said walking across the room and picking it off the top of the desk in Felix’s room, where it had been in open view the whole time.

“Ahh thanks.” Ollie said, taking it from you with a tight lipped smile and a head bob of thanks.

“No problem.” You said, but you didn’t return the smile as he awkwardly passed you and left.

—————

“Hey. Is everything alright?” Felix asked when you made it down to the pool, walking around the edge of it where Farleigh and Venetia were splashing around in the water chatting.

“Yeah.” You sighed as you sat yourself in Felix’s lap on one of the chairs around the pool.

“You don’t sound convinced?” He said as his hand brushed gently against your bare thigh. It was both a statement and a question, pressing you to unload the thoughts clearly on your mind.

“Yeah, it’s just-“ you started, but your voice trailed off as Oliver came to join the group, sitting himself in a chair next to Felix and yourself. He silently held up the Harry Potter book in his hand, a silent nod of acknowledgment to the two of you, before he opened up the book in his lap and began reading.

Felix didn’t need you to openly say what you were thinking out loud. He’d seen the way your eyes had followed Ollie around the pool. Felt how your body had bristled before leaning closer into his warmth for protection. “Come on, let’s go for a swim.” He said. “I bet I could take your mind off him in no time.” He whispered into your ear as his hand began to glide its way further up your thigh and in towards your heat, his touch making your skin shiver, your core aching for him. You couldn’t help but pull your lips tight with a smirk.

He gave your thigh a light tap and you stood up so that Felix could stand too, pulling off his T-shirt over his head. He then stood at the edge of the pool and silently watched you as you stripped off your denim shorts and took off the open button up shirt you had slipped on as a cover up to come outside. Once stripped to your bikini you flashed him a look. He was looking you up and down intently. No matter how many times he’d seen you naked, there was always something about see in your body in a bikini that turned him on like a naughty school boy. He gave you a wry smirk and you just had enough time to look down at the problem growing in his shorts before he stepped off the edge of the pool and dropped into the water to hide his arousal from other prying eyes around the pool.

You slowly stepped up to the edge yourself. You could feel Ollie’s eyes looking over the top of the book at your body, but you willed yourself to ignore him. You instead looked down to Felix at your feet. “Come on, get in.” He encouraged you, tapping at the stones either side of your feet. When you continued to hesitate, he began to grab at your ankles, trying to pull you in.

“Ahhh, Fix.” You squealed as your feet began to hop about on the stones to avoid his hands.

In the end, you bit the bullet, doing a quick little run to the side away from Felix as he pushed himself up further onto the top of the pool edge to reach out for your legs. The water was shockingly cold against your skin as your head dipped below the water line but quickly acclimatised to the difference.

When you surfaced, you made your way back towards Felix, wrapping your arms and legs around his body like a koala. You could still feel his erection, pressed hard and flat now to his stomach where he had adjusted his shorts under the water. He looked over to where Farleigh and Venetia were talking at the other end of the pool, then back to you with a devilish smirk, his eyebrows raising suggestively.

You nibbled at your lip as you looked towards your pool companions who seemed to be giving the two of you some distance and paying you no mind; their conversation clearly to enthralling to break from just yet. You looked back to Felix with a twinkle in your eye. It wasn’t the first time you and Felix had partaken in this particular activity whilst you were in the pool together, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last; but you could still feel Ollie’s energy, his envious gaze fixated on you and Felix. You couldn’t help but find your head turning towards him.

“Just forget him.” Felix said, nuzzling himself into your neck, his lips grazing your ear as his hands on your hips began to push your core against his hard cock. “Please.” He cooed, his fingers already beginning to toy with one of the ties to your bikini bottoms.

You willed yourself to look away from Ollie and focus on your boyfriend again. You smashed your lips against his in a bruising kiss and you felt him smile against your mouth. He turned you both so your back was against the wall of the pool so you remained in place as his fingers pulled at the tie on your right hip, your bottoms floating to the side, only being held in place by one leg. He then shucked down the front of his shorts to fully expose his cock. He gave your folds a quick swipe, your slick mixing with the pool water before he dipped his fingers in and out of your aching cunt. It was only a couple of swipes- just enough to make sure you were ready for him. But you had been ready for him for most of the summer.

You took a quick glance over Felix’s shoulder to make sure Farleigh and Venetia were still occupied, whilst Felix looked over your own shoulder up at Ollie still sat, seemingly reading. “Look at me.” Felix urged you when he felt confident Ollie wasn’t paying any attention to the two of you.

You braced your arms tighter around his neck as he shifted you to sit on top of his cock. Your breathing hitched slightly and you fought back the moan that wanted to radiate from you at the feel of his length filling you up. “That’s my girl.” Felix cooed before he nipped at your lips with his own.

You never fucked in the pool. You once fucked in the pool house. But never in the pool. But you often did this- kept his cock warm whilst Felix walked you round the pool. To anyone else it would look like you were just having a cuddle and a chat as you slowly made your way around the pool- but you both knew what was really going on under the water. It was secretive and teasing and gave you both a thrill. Every now and again one of you would shift slightly and you’d have to hide the moan of pleasure that wanted to burst free. But you both lived for the edge- tormenting one another. Seeing who could hold out the longest.

And although you felt Ollie’s eyes on the two of you every now and again. Knew he was watching the two of you closely. Suspected he knew what was happening below the water and wishing it was him involved. You had to admit, Felix was right- this was probably the best way he could try and make you forget about the friend he had brought home and how he creeped you out.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Head cannons/Quick facts about You! :) 

(most of these are going to be for the future, but a few are generalizations) 

You are 20 years old – making you the youngest on the grid 

Like almost ALL characters, you do not have a good relationship with your parents 

Christian and Gerri will step in :) 

Only child, but it doesn’t show much 

Fairly quiet

Especially in the first few weeks of being on the grid 

Everyone thinks that you might not like them, while you think that they might not like you 

Out of everyone, Logan is the first to get you to crack 

Then comes Oscar, because you know, codependency of Loscar is real 

And then Lando, because if someone can befriend Oscar, he can befriend you (you accidentally ran him over one time trying to get on an elevator before you actually met him for real)

And then Alex because of Logan (also you adored his animals) 

Max has surprisingly always liked you – being teammates and all 

It really started after the Christmas video posted by Red Bull that helped you two become friends 

He felt like he needed to look after you 

Charles always watched you from a distance 

You were his brother’s best friend…he felt a need to make sure you were ok 

Not a surprise, you and Fernando bonded over plants – you accidentally interrupted his quiet time on a roof before media day because you wanted to water the flowers (after that, you started calling him grandpa Nando – you’re the only one allowed to do that) 

Lewis’s and George’s friendship came at a weird time 

You had accidentally gotten locked out of your car one time late after the race had ended 

Coincidentally, you three were staying at the same hotel and they offered you a ride 

Let’s just say, mischief happened and you had a whining Lando the next day (since he missed out on the fun with his fellow Brits) 

The rest of the grid are just all really soft for you 

You claim to be Daniel’s favorite (which you are) 

He promises to take you to his farm the next time he goes 

You’ve always wanted to pet a kangaroo 

Yuki always brings you whatever food he’s recently cooked up 

But, You definitely laugh the most around Lando 

Because of his childlike nature and your more stone faced, shy personality, you took the role of the “older sibling” 

But, Lando puts on the big brother approach whenever someone bothers you (PSA – all of the drivers do) 

They get really jealous when Ollie or Arthur come to visit because suddenly all of your attention is on them and not the grid 

Now, the WAGS absolutely adore you 

They treat you like a little sister 

You need advice? They will help 

Need a dress for whatever reason? They will all pull up 

You really bond with Lily 

Lando likes to drag you to play gold with Carlos and Alex 

And most of the time, Alex will bring Lily 

So you definitely see her more than the rest 

YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH LIGHTNING MCQUEEN 

LIKE

YOU HAVE AN LIGHTNING MCQUEEN HELMET 

AND THE CROCS 

AND A BACKPACK 

Life is a Highway is your walkup song – there is none other

You and Lando start to take naps everywhere 

Christian often has to ask Max to go find you – since you seem to disappear when you go take a nap 

In true chaotic gen-z fashion, your first dnf was pretty bad 

Your left back wheel had gotten clipped on a curb and you went sliding, ultimately rolling over a couple of times 

You were fine, but the guys panicked 

All they knew was that a Red Bull had flipped, and Max was standing with them in the pit lane 

So using their amazing deductive skills, they knew it was you 

The next race, you showed up with them around you in a protective circle 

The boys joked in interviews that you’d have shown up in bubble wrap if you had let them

The first inkling they had that your relationship with your parents wasn’t the best was at the newly instituted Parent’s Day Dinner that the teams had set up 

Everyone was surrounded by their parents 

But, there were two empty seats around you 

You wanted to leave, but Max secretly had texted Christian and Geri 

You BEST know they showed up in best dress 

Tears might have been shed 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @itsjustkhaos

[chrisevansonly]

𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬

ღ harry styles x female reader

ღ if there is one thing your baby boy loves in all of this world, and it’s when his daddy sings him to sleep…

ღ very fluffy and soft dad! harry styles

ღ just another little dad!harry piece, im slowly getting motivation back to write, so i hope to be more productive and active now <3

It was no secret to anyone in your lives at just how much of a daddy’s boy your 2 month old son Ollie was, the newborn knew instantly when he was in his fathers arm, and most days if it was anyone else’s we wouldn’t have it. Harry loved Ollie with his entire being, there was no greater joy in life than being a father and being married to you: his two greatest loves.

For a two month old he was fairly quiet, bedtime was usually easy enough for both you and Harry but the odd time it proved to be rather difficult, especially when there were no lullabies as part of Ollie’s night routine. Let’s get one thing straight, you could sing him lullabies, but nothing, and I mean nothing would ever beat Harry’s, you knew that, and little Ollie knew that too.

“My little Ollie bear, shhh daddy will be home soon, mummy promises….shhhh”

You were bouncing gently around the room, little sobs escaping your baby boys mouth, he knew his daddy wasn’t there, and you could only frown and rock the little one hoping Harry would be back from the store soon.

“My little love, it’s okay….”

When Ollie cried, he could cry, his lungs were in perfect shape there was no doubt about it. It also helped because as soon as Harry got home he was quick to leave the bags on the kitchen counter, taking two steps at a time up to your shared bedroom, a bit of a frantic look on his face

“M’sorry traffic was bad, what happened, s’he alright?”

Smiling tiredly you shook your head

“He’s alright, just fussy because his daddy isn’t singing to him”

You watched his shoulders relax slightly as he smile apologetically to you, leaning down to kiss you softly before taking Ollie from you

“Poor mummy huh? Giving her a hard time…? S’cause daddy’s a better singer huh?”

Ollie had begun to quiet down instantly, earning a light smack to Harry’s bicep from you as you rolled your eyes playfully

“I’ll go put the food away, thank you baby”

Smiling Harry kissed you once more before going to sit in the rocking chair that rested beside the french doors in the far end of your room, the sunsetting over the English countryside

“There we go, time for bed now my love”

Harry was quick to pull out the soft grey blanket you kept in a basket beside the rocking chair, covering Ollie with it before he began to sing softly

“Baby mine, don’t you cry, baby mine, dry your eyes, rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine”

Harry watched as Ollie’s eyes began to flutter closed, his tiny hand holding onto the string of his pleasing hoodie in a grip to ensure his father wouldn’t move.

“Little one when you play, don’t you mind what you say, let those eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear, baby of mine..”

Humming softly to finish off the lullaby, he waited until he could hear the little baby snores Ollie made, letting him know he was finally asleep. Pressing a few soft kisses to his cheeks, Harry lay him down in his bassinet, placed on your side of the bed for night feedings. Silently hoping he’d stay asleep as he put him down, waiting a few moments before turning the monitor on and making his way to find you.

“Did he go down okay?”

“Like a charm”

You smiled wrapping your arms around his torso

“What would we do if we both sucked at singing?”

Harry laughed

“You don’t suck, he just prefers me that’s all”

“You’ve heard me in the shower….”

“Okay so your tune could use a little work….”

It was your turn to laugh as you shook your head, kissing his stubble covered chin

“I love you H, thank you for always coming to the rescue”

“For you and Ollie, i’ll always come to rescue.”

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 24.

Summary: The night of the Henrys dinner has you experiencing the extremes of friendship, as the distance between you and Farleigh only seems to grow further apart, while you, Venetia, and Felix proceed to get arguably too close.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; Felix/Reader/Venetia where the reader is the literal line between this being incest and this being just an incest-adjacent-but-definitely-still-taboo-grey-area. Drunk sex, oral (f receiving), reader's AGAB is never made specific.

A/N: 9442 words. HOLY SHIT. hello again friends, there has been so many different versions of the smut scene in this chapter, but im ultimately very happy and satisfied with what ended up in the final cut (I wrote this A/N and then rewrote the scene AGAIN (5th time I think I'm now at) and now I'm happy with the set up for it too 😌). that being said, i also rewrote the scene with Farleigh because I rewatched the Henrys dinner again and the original scene, while it would make sense emotionally in one sense, the scene I ended up with now I think works better, it still works emotionally but also it means he aligns both with the film and with the extra context the fic provides, yanno? if this chapter had you thinking or feeling anythings, you know i always love to know and hear them <3

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

The minute you step into the dining room by Oliver's side, Farleigh shoots you a withering look. Unfortunately he's already seated, a Henry, and a Henry's Wife on either side of him, and Oliver's in your ear quietly asking where he's meant to be sitting himself. All you can do is direct him to his seat, anxiety once again beginning to bubble in your gut. When you mouth an apology to Farleigh, he rolls his eyes, and turns to the Henry on his left with a fake smile. Fuck. It had been a long time since Farleigh had been genuinely upset with you, and even longer since you'd actually deserved it the way you know you do now. All you can hope is that you get the opportunity tonight, or at the very least tomorrow morning, to talk things out with him.

Before you can get too caught up in your thoughts, however, Venetia is slipping past you with a tight smile, pinching your ass as she goes. You hear Felix, half a step behind her and having seen the moment, sigh her name with exasperation, but she just turns throws him a playfully amused smirk before she's making her way to her seat by Oliver. It is a surprise to think they'd come down together, but Felix explains quietly to you that he'd felt the need to speak to her about Oliver, about what happened. The two of you take your seats together, Felix sounding exasperated as he explains that Venetia had said nothing had happened between her and Oliver; you know Venetia's watching the two of you, even as you make a point of fixing your gaze on the array of cutlery before you.

"Ollie was right," Felix muttered, fussing with the stem of his wine glass, clearly wishing it wasn't empty, "she was so pissed she doesn't even remember coming on to him- why 's she got to be like this, honestly?" At least he sounds more disappointed than angry. When you look up, chancing a glance over at the woman herself, you see her staring right back at you. Felix is still mulling over his empty glass, but the look in Venetia's eyes as she raises a single, perfect eyebrow at you says that she knows exactly what you're being told right now.

And that she knows you know she lied to Felix.

That woman has absolutely no remorse; the way these lies are really beginning to build is making you feel even more queasy than you already were. Instead of giving her the satisfaction of any kind of reaction, you simply avert your gaze, tipping your head to the side to instead look at Felix.

"I think it's because she likes seeing you pout," you teased softly, tone light in an attempt to bring up his mood. Felix's expression immediately shifts to something both embarrassed and faintly pleased, already anticipating your praise, "it's a cute look on you," you continued, wetting your lips, "at least I think so." There's a faint blush on his cheeks now, expression almost bashful. For a moment his gaze flicks to his sister, who's thankfully looked away as the staff have begun to serve drinks, but just as quickly he's looking back at you.

"You're shameless," he mutters, trying and failing to fight off a grin.

"And what, dear Felix, would I have to be ashamed of?" Lips quirking into a smug, little smile, you take quiet joy in the snort of laughter that escapes him. You're glad to see his mood has turned around considerably before you let your attention drift away, striking up a conversation with Henry of Suffolk on your other side.

As always, your planning pays off over the course of the dinner, engaging in lively conversation with the rest of the guests, masking your nerves with a bright smile and thoughtful bouts of small talk with everyone around you. With each name and detail you remember, you see those around you growing more comfortable and amiable with you just as they grew more intoxicated. Nobody goes overboard, of course, well, at least not in a way that would be completely unacceptable, but spirits are high and the guests are more than eager when Sir James excitedly informs them all of the wide selection of songs their karaoke machine has since Venetia had asked him to update it.

"Does this mean we get to hear you attempt Crocodile Rock again, Jimmy?" Lord Henry, Sir James' godson and always a little too enthusiastic for moments such as these, is the only person in the world who you think would ever call Sir James 'Jimmy'. He's done it once or twice before that you remember, but it still catches you off guard, and the laughter that escapes you is almost undignified, not that anybody notices. Sir James himself laughs along, as the rest of the table seems thoroughly amused by the idea, though he claims he may need to open another bottle of wine before he considers stepping up to the microphone himself.

Once dinner has concluded, several of the guests, yourself included, opt to head outside briefly to smoke before retiring to the larger drawing room the Cattons used to entertain groups like this. Felix declines your invitation, choosing instead to check in with Oliver as the evening was progressing. Considering Oliver had only just stopped looking like a deer in the headlights whenever someone tried to make conversation with him, you were sure he would appreciate a more familiar moment of kindness.

You, however, were afforded no such kindness. Stepping outside, your attention is immediately caught on Farleigh, perched on one of the railings by the stairs, pointedly having removed himself from the others who had also chosen to take in the evening air. Elegant and beautiful and so clearly full of disdain, his eyes narrow as you make eye contact with him. Pulling your own ornate cigarette case from your pocket, you join him, asking to borrow a light. Silently, he offers his lighter, and you thank him quietly, feeling his ice cold gaze boring into you.

"To what do I owe the pleasure," he sneered, voice low enough that only you could catch his words, "of you deciding to finally grace me with your presence." It stung.

"Farleigh," you sighed, gaze imploring as you finally met his, taking a draught from your cigarette. But he in unwavering in his irritation. Sighing, you let your focus drop as you tried to recall the lines you'd prepared earlier, "I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am, by seeming otherwise."

Farleigh snorts derisively, letting your words hang in the air as he finally looked away, raising his own cigarette to his lips. The way he smiles hold absolutely no warmth.

"You know he's lying to you," there's a casual cruelty to Farleigh's voice that you'd heard so often in your life, but so rarely directed at you, "I don't know what he told you and Felix, but he's lying, I know what I saw -"

"I know he's lying," you admit faintly, "I believe you, Farleigh, I know you wouldn't fuck with me and Fi over something like this," you kicked the stone steps idly with the toe of your fancy shoes, trying to keep your own voice just as light, "and Ollie knows it too."

"Know what?"

"That I know he's lying," finally you look up again, meeting his gaze but having no idea what to read in his expression, "that I believe you despite what he told us."

"Does Felix know?"

Farleigh knows he doesn't by the way you immediately go quiet. There's genuine disgust in his voice when he calls you spineless, when he tells you that your so blinded by love that you can't see that this can only end badly. Part of you believes he's right, but you still try to have hope despite that.

"You don't get it," you finally huff, scowling in an attempt to hide how hurt you were by his words, "and it's not that you can't, it's that you don't want to," you jab him in the chest for emphasis, cigarette between your fingers, "because it's so much easier for you to dismiss Ollie out of hand since you've never liked him, or even bothered to get to know him. Isn't it fucking easier for you, Farleigh, to hope we turn against him so you don't have to keep putting up with him?" Lip curling into a sneer, the vitriolic way you speak surprises even yourself.

"I'm not the bad guy for giving a shit about you," his voice is rising despite how he was fighting to remain dismissive and nonchalant, "and not trusting a fucking stranger -"

"This isn't you giving a shit about me," you couldn't help but scoff, wine drunk and more than able to match his bitchy energy with your own, "you give a shit about you, Farleigh; you and your fucking pride," you spit, finding yourself altogether tired of his ongoing attitude towards Oliver and how he was trying to now mask it as altruism, "what happens if it all works out, what then, Farleigh?"

"It's not going to~" Farleigh sings meanly under his breath with that same humourless smile as before. Despite being toe to toe with you, he'd been avoiding eye contact as best he could, until now. There's something in his eyes behind the icy anger that almost looks hurt. Farleigh's voice is a whisper as he leans in, nose to nose with you, "and when it goes badly, when you let him break your heart, and my cousin's heart, when you finally realise that he's fucking using you because nothing will ever be enough for him," Farleigh's lip curls derisively as you feels hot, angry tears stinging your eyes, threatening to spill, "don't you dare come crying to me that you 'loved not wisely but too well', because I know," for just a moment you feel pinned by the intensity of his gaze in this moment as he turned Othello's words on you yet again, "and I'm fucking warning you now."

He steps out of your space, sighing loudly, as if completely oblivious to the tears on your cheeks and how he's torn your heart to shreds. But then, as always, he knows you well enough to intuit exactly how to twist the knife.

"Don't look at me like that," he rolls his eyes, "you know I'm right," then, eyebrows raised, he even has the gall to ask if you're even going to finish your cigarette, which had gone out. Shaking your head weakly, your running entirely on autopilot as you pass it over to him.

As you stand there, the air feeling too warm on your skin, your collar too tight, the taste of smoke and ash suddenly sickening on your tongue, despair wells up within you, choking you too from the inside out. Farleigh's words play on repeat inside your head, and you know you should leave, shouldn't engage further, you weren't in your right mind to begin with, drunk and a mess of emotions. But one thought sticks out, loud above all the others.

"Everyone uses me, Farleigh," you choke out, "you- you really think that bothers me?" And you look to see him shocked in the face of your teary anger.

"What?"

"If Oliver were to ask for the world, I'd give it to him," you tell Farleigh with a defiant scowl, not bothering to lower your voice as you wipes your tears roughly, "I can afford it after all. When it comes to the people I love, I can afford anything, or did you you and your pride choose to forget?" Everyone around you has gone quiet, all eyes upon the two of you, but none of them matter to either you or Farleigh in this moment. Standing as tall as you're able, you square your shoulders. Without giving him a chance to reply, you take your anger and lingering sense of betrayal as you turned on your heel and stormed back inside.

Tomorrow you were sure you'd regret making a scene, regret your harsh words and arrogance, but you had no idea how else to get through to him at the time. If Farleigh was jealous because of how loving and accommodating you were to Oliver, he'd need to get over himself. There was nothing you wouldn't do, no price you wouldn't pay, for the people who made you and Felix happy, you thought he knew this. What in the hell could ever reassure or even convince him if, after so much of your lives together, all the years and moments and love shared already, didn't make it abundantly clear that that meant him too?

Pulling off your suit jacket the minute you step through the doors, you throw it into the hands of a confused member of the staff, just telling them to put it somewhere for Duncan to take care of. However, before you can even find Felix amid everyone gathered in the drawing room, you find your focus, and your arm, snatched by a mischievous looking Venetia. Considering she and Felix appear getting along once again, you decide you have all the time in the world to humour the girl who'd never once been afraid to ask you for something she wants. Perhaps she'll be able to take your mind off of Farleigh and all he'd said. At the very least she hands you another glass of champagne.

"You've been so cold to me these past few days," Venetia pouted where she was clinging to your arm. It seems in the dim light and in her current state she is completely oblivious to the fact that you'd just been crying, thank god, "if you don't sing something with me, I'll start thinking you don't even like me." She's wearing that beautiful, dangerous grin of hers that she always wears when she knows she's on the edge of pushing your buttons about something. But in this moment Venetia is mean and pretty, and you're feeling tipsy and indulgent, so you let yourself be coerced by the sight of her smile.

"Careful, pretty girl," you teased with a smirk, letting her drag you over to Duncan who had been granted the role of overseeing song selections, "I might start believing you want me around."

Surprisingly, Venetia looks up from the song book in her hands, as if surprised by your accusation.

"As if anyone else would be half as good to me; of course I want you around, pet," and then immediately turns back to poring over song choices. It hits you in a way you hadn't anticipated, and you know part of that was due to your altercation with Farleigh. Still, it was the kind of fond sentiment Venetia was so often shying away from admitting that sometimes you genuinely forgot how much she actually appreciated your place in her life. So often it seemed that she took you for granted, and you played along because it never outweighed how much joy and pleasure you took in making her happy, even if it was often at your expense. But Venetia was just as much a masochist, and quietly loved that you so often gave as good as you got.

Duncan's expression doesn't change from its carefully controlled neutral veneer while he watches you and Venetia flipping through the song book. For a moment you recall how often you'd begged as a teenager for him to let you join the service staff at Saltburn for events like this simply so you wouldn't have to be looked at or talked to. He'd of course never let you, nor had Elspeth when you'd gone to her with the proposal. Still, he'd taken you aside during your third Summer and asked what it was about the events that made them so difficult for you. He'd been putting together detailed dossiers on the events at the estate for you ever since.

You still think you'd make a good team member for the staff, but to you, Duncan was utterly irreplaceable at Saltburn.

"Oh, this one, don't you think, pet?" Venetia asks, tugging you once more to bring your attention to where she was pointing out a Fall Out Boy song. The one where the groom finds out his bride is a whore; the nerve on her after what she did two nights ago. Keeping your composure, however, you raise an eyebrow at her.

"Thought you weren't a fan of that tragic, emo stuff," you smirked, to which Venetia rolled her eyes, scoffing for you to pick one then, "what about ABBA?" You suggested knowingly, "everyone loves ABBA" Despite her attempt at remaining put out by you, her mood picks up when you at least tell her she can pick the song, and she's grinning with an almost childlike glee at the idea. Still, you know you don't have to worry too much, there's only one ABBA song you know she'll pick.

As Venetia's adding her song selection to the list, your focus finally drifts back around the room. You finish your glass and note that Farleigh's finally slunk on from outside, taking up brooding in an arm chair in a particularly dark corner of the room and refusing to look anywhere but his drink. Finally, however, you spot Felix in conversation with Oliver, his arm around the shorter man's shoulders where they've staked their claim on one end of the wide, ornate sofa. For just a moment his gaze finds you, and he gives you and his sister the briefest exasperated smile, like he knows exactly what you've been talked into.

There's still a few others who have yet to have their turn, so the two of you decide to get yourselves another drink -

"Grab one for me too, will you?" Felix calls after you from where he'd settled himself on the sofa.

"Of course, my darling, useless brother," Venetia practically sings back, swanning past him with an arm once more firmly tucked in yours.

"Thank you, Vee, I love you too," you think you can hear Felix rolling his eyes fondly. Still, Venetia's giggling as the two of you make your way to the drink caddy in the corner of the room.

Venetia snickers quietly, barking at you so low only you could hear as you poured Felix a glass of champagne after your own, and a third for Oliver too. But you don't have it in your heart to be mad, and grin as you knock your shoulder with her's.

"Watch yourself, Ven," you warned her playfully. Her laughter lights up the little corner of the room you both occupied. Your lingering reasons to stay mad at her regarding her tryst with Oliver seem to be disappearing faster as the night went on. It almost definitely has something to do with the drinks, but you can't seem to bring yourself to mind.

"Why would I need to watch myself when I've got you to do it for me again," and she gives a little twirl as if to emphasise, which becomes twofold when you catch her by the elbow to steady her as she almost over balances, "see?" Her voice is low and flirty, stepping into your space as she picks up her champagne glass, "so don't get all bitchy again," but her tone is sweet when she teases you, "I need my knight in shining armour."

"It's called consequences," you chuckled, though you still let her wind her arms around your neck in a gesture that would be far too intimate for even this secluded corner of this setting if most everyone else weren't also inebriated, "if you insist on jeopardising mine and Fi's happiness you'll have to learn to take care of yourself."

"But you like being good to me," her smile is sharp and she leans in, her forehead against yours. This rare, unashamedly needy side of Venetia was really quite endearing. Groaning, you allow yourself to give in for just a moment, kissing her quickly.

"God fucking help me, I do," you agreed with a vaguely frustrated huff. Venetia actually giggles, tells you this is why she loves you, and send more than happy with this result to let you both get back to the task you'd been at the drinks caddy for originally. It seemed no one had taken any real note of the intimate moment in the corner of the room anyhow, it kind of just seemed that that was how this night was progressing all around.

When you get back to Felix and Oliver, both with a drink in each hand, she drapes herself rather inelegantly on the arm of the sofa by her brother after she hands him his drink. Oliver seems surprised when you hand him one too, looking at you, leaning against the back of the sofa, with this wide-eyed look of gratefulness. The four of you watch with quiet amusement as one of the younger wives of the Henrys makes a decent attempt at Total Eclipse of the Heart.

"What'd you end up deciding on?" Felix murmurs loud enough for only your little group to hear, and Venetia giggles when all she says is the name of the band. Felix's smile grows wider, turning fond as he looks from her, to back at you. When he makes a noise of understanding, even you can't help but grin, despite how Oliver's voicing his confusion. All Felix can respond with is, "it's a very old, very stupid joke," which Venetia immediately scoffs at, reminding him that it's 'our song' in reference to the three of you.

As they bicker about whether or not it's stupid - you're of the opinion that it is, but that's part of the reason why you love it - you lean down to murmur to Oliver with a smirk;

"Does Your Mother Know?"

As the realisation hits him, a startled laugh escapes him, his hand coming up to cover his sudden smile. Felix turns to him, leaning his head against yours, asking Oliver now to weigh in on whether it was stupid.

"Dunno; does she know?" He grins in return, eyes shining in the low, golden light of the room. You, Felix, and Venetia all burst out laughing at that, earning a scathing look from the man who'd just stepped up to take the microphone, and the four of you loudly try to both apologise and shush each other while unable to fight off your collective giggles.

By the time you and Venetia step up to the microphone, you have no idea where your jacket is, the top few buttons of your fancy jumpsuit are undone, and you can't stop smiling. It's as if your earlier altercation with Farleigh is almost entirely forgotten. For a moment, everything's easy again, everything's okay and bright and Venetia is by your side as the two of you pass the mic back and forth between you both. It's the most lively song of the night so far, and you can see Elspeth laughing into her wine glass as she watches you both with fondness.

A song that had once been put on by Venetia herself in an act of malice, blasting it from her little, portable CD player when she'd caught you and Felix making out by the lake as teenagers, had since developed into the soundtrack of countless bright memories. The three of you had cheered when it had come on in a club in LA none of you were old enough to be in, it was always on road trip mixtapes, and had been played throughout various hotels all across the world as you'd been getting ready together to go out on the town.

It was your song after all.

All you could think in this moment is how much you hated when Felix and Venetia were on bad terms.

When the song ends, there's a smattering of applause. You pass the microphone over to the next singer as Venetia takes your hand and pulls you back over to Felix, who's regarding you both with amused exasperation. Oliver's gone to get himself another drink, Felix tells you as Venetia drapes herself on his lap, and you take the now vacant seat beside him.

"God I haven't heard that song in ages," Felix snorts, arm around Venetia to keep her steady as she gets herself more comfortable.

"We should go clubbing again," you insist, head resting on Felix's shoulder, tucked up against his other side, then, "Vee, you should come visit us at Oxford some weekend!" However both Cattons beside you scoff dismissively at the thought.

"God, I wouldn't be caught dead at some dreadful, uni, bar night."

"That's mean, Ven, they're fun!" Felix's dismissal immediately turns to playful indignance, "I'm more worried about your bursting into flames the minute you try to step foot on campus."

"Why would I burst into flames?!" Venetia's eyes went wide, but Felix looks equally as bright and shocked.

"Because that's what you said would happen when mum asked you if you'd ever consider enrolling after I got accepted!"

Venetia's mouth snaps closed, embarrassed smile and faint flush giving her away as her own words seem to be coming back to her.

"Oh yeah," she mumbled, "right," then, after a beat, she looks to you, "do you have any smokes on you, pet?"

"For you, Ven, always," you teased, feeling all kinds of contented and warm in this moment, by their side. Pulling your pocket book out of your pocket, you offer one to Venetia before apologising for not having a lighter. Felix tells her he's got it before she can even stand, and grunts as he tries to keep her balanced on his lap while reaching into his own pants pocket to pull out a little, ornate lighter. He flicks it open, holding the flame aloft for Venetia, who rolls her eyes as she lights her cigarette off of it.

"I still can't believe you have a formal lighter," she snickers.

"I only ever use it here," Felix grins to himself, gaze fixed on the silver lighter in his grip as he flips it open and closed, "honestly I don't even think I'll bring my suit back to Oxford this semester, I only wore it once, and Y/N knows where we can hire them."

"Of course they do," Venetia gives you a knowing smile, and you simply shrug, your mood unable to be ruined by anything, even canine allegations, in this moment.

"At least I'm consistent," you smirked, and Venetia reached over, her tone both saccharine and teasing as she scratches beneath your chin and calls you 'good doggie'. Felix groans at that, as he always did, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

"Why've you've always got to ruin things, Vee?" He asked, exasperated, but Venetia simply leaned further into him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders with a blithe smile.

"I haven't ruined anything, Felix; do you think I've ruined anything, pet?" Venetia's sharp gaze turns on you, and Felix turns his face to look at you too. All you do is shrug; right now you were taking her degrading nickname as a compliment.

"I can't believe you put up with her," Felix snorts.

"Because you haven't tasted the dog treats she buys me," you counter without even really thinking, though the minute Venetia starts absolutely cackling and Felix looks at you in absolute, horrified disbelief, you clarify, "I'm kidding, oh my god, Fi, I'm totally kidding!" Which thankfully is enough to alleviate his concerns, and he's then laughing just as hard as you and Venetia.

The others are looking at you again, the three of you lost in your own little world, but you can't even begin to care. Everything in this moment is warm and familiar and right. Your anxiety over events stands no chance when you're drunk and laughing with the Catton siblings by your side.

These were moments you loved. These were moments where you felt loved, where this house felt like your home. These were your people, Felix and Venetia, Farleigh too more often than not, and you knew, if given time, you could make Oliver feel just as loved, just as home as Saltburn had long since made you feel. But Farleigh and Oliver were far from your mind tonight; Oliver hadn't returned, and Farleigh was keeping his distance from you, and Venetia had kicked her legs out over you as your focus drifted back to the guests providing entertainment, trying to be a little less shameless, as Felix had so rightly called you earlier, about your love for them both. That being said, at least you weren't the only one... Why Henry had thought taking off his jumper like his rendition of Apple Bottom Jeans was a strip tease was beyond you, but at least it was amusing.

"Fuck it, I'm getting another drink," Felix announced, gently tapping on Venetia's thigh to indicate for her to finally get up and move. When she mentions that she could use one too, Felix is already offering you a hand, knowing you'd be coming along too.

The three of you make your back back over to the drink cart in the corner, all tipsy enough to enjoy bopping along to Henry's questionable singing to the catchy tune, each collecting another flute of champagne. Gaze scanning the gathering, your eyes zero in on the what you recognise to be Farleigh and Oliver together on one of the sofas facing a wall adorned by several royal portraits. Something about the sight, after your earlier conversation with Farleigh, makes you uneasy, and you find yourself finishing your drink quickly, turning back to the siblings in an attempt to distract yourself. Venetia's more than willing to pull you in to dance with her for the moment.

But then you hear it, and your blood turns cold. There's something about hearing Farleigh's voice rise brightly above Henry's singing, bringing the embarrassing display to a close, that makes a strange, guilty kind of anger flare to life in your chest.

Turning back, you watch with a dawning almost horror as he volunteers a clearly reluctant Oliver for the next song, one he is choosing for him. Unfortunately you know Farleigh too well to assume it's anything other than some sort of trap for your poor friend.

And much to your chagrin, you're right.

Oliver stumbles awkwardly through the lyrics he clearly doesn't know in front of a less than lukewarm audience. He doesn't seem to realise exactly what he's singing, that it's all a cruel joke, until -

"I love you-" Oliver's voice falters, falls as the next words flash up on screen, "you pay my rent."

But Farleigh's not looking at him, even as Oliver calls him over, tries to salvage the situation, insisting with as much ire as he can despite clearly being embarrassed, that it's Farleigh song too. Farleigh's looking at you, something vindictive in his gaze before he turns away, agreeing without hesitation, stepping into the spotlight without a shred of concern despite the song and it's less than kind implications.

That spiteful fucking asshole!

"No," leaves your lips as an involuntary, furious gasp. You don't even realise you make a start towards him until you feel Felix's hand holding your arm firmly, as if anticipating you better than you can.

"That's..." Felix doesn't have the exact words for it, part of him not wanting to believe his cousin was truely being malicious, but you knew better. Still, clearly he was as disappointed as you were angry.

"Come on, it's -" but Venetia stops laughing and just sighs when both you and Felix turn on her with less than approving looks. She rolls her eyes, arms crossed delicately over her chest as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm so fucking done with this," you hissed furiously, stalking out of the room. As much as you love Oliver and want to reassure him, you're in absolutely no state to do so.

While you don't exactly expect the Catton siblings to give up the remainder of their night for you, there's still a swell of gratefulness when you hear Venetia's heels against Saltburn's floorboards as she trots after you.

"You know usually -" you begin to rant, absolutely seething with rage as you blew past several bemused members of staff ferrying food and snacks to the drawing room, "- and yeah, I'll own up to this - usually it's my fault that I don't have fun at events like this," you turned on your heel suddenly at the bottom of the red staircase, feeling particularly dramatic and petty in your drunken fury. Venetia catches herself before she can run into you, watching you, letting you rant with amusement in her eyes. Not that that deters you in the slightest, "he's so petty, so fucking petty and vindictive."

"You know how Farleigh gets," Venetia's voice is still warm, despite your fury.

"Yeah, he's entitled," you hissed venomously, "I love you all to death, but you really all can be so fucking entitled, yes, including you," you added without a moment of hesitation.

"What'd I do?" Venetia laughed brightly, but you narrowed your eyes at her. She knows what she did. In the next moment, as if suddenly remembering, she raises her hands in mock surrender. But there's a softness in her eyes as she gently lowers her hands to your shoulders, reassuring you that they all loved you too.

Behind her however, coming out of the drawing room, Felix is approaching with a less than enthused expression.

"Ollie won't talk to me," he's actually pouting, "says he's fine," clearly Felix doesn't believe him, "says he just wants to be left alone," clearly Felix doesn't like that either.

"Y/N's calling us entitled," Venetia supplies with a candid kind of amusement. While Felix's expression turns to confusion, you groan loudly at her antics and turn on your heel, throwing your hands up in the air with exasperation as you head back through the house towards your bedroom, fully retiring from everything that has happened tonight.

"What are we being entitled about?" Felix asks, trotting behind you with his sister in tow. You don't dignify it with an answer, but Venetia snorts.

"Them, I assume."

"Oh," Felix contemplates for a moment, before picking up his pace to match your stride, "I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"It's fine, Fi," you sighed, taking his hand as he walked in step beside you, "I'm mostly just mad at Farleigh -"

"How come you're all understanding with Feef, but I get my head bitten off?" Venetia stepped up to your other side, tone incredulous as she keeps up with you both, "you'd let him get away with murder!"

Felix sticks his tongue out at his sister with a petulant kind of glee.

"God, I'm so tired of taking sides," taking the steps up to the second floor, you huff a long, world-weary sigh, "I just want to forget this night ever happened, honestly."

"I can help with that," Felix's tone is laden with smug innuendo, and finally you feel yourself beginning to relax, giving his hand a squeeze. Beside you, Venetia is quiet, but you can tell she wants to say something. Apparently Felix can tell too, however, as less than a moment later he says, "come on, out with it Vee, what've you got a problem with now."

"Will I be called entitled again if I say I'd appreciate their company tonight instead?" Venetia bites back at her brother as the three of you come to the end of the blue room and step into the long gallery. Felix's grip on your hand grows just a little tighter; you know he's trying to come up with some kind of response that doesn't make him sound entitled to you too.

"Don't make me choose," you muttered finally when you get to your bedroom, forehead pressed against the door, "please, I just want to be good to you both, you know this," then after a soft sigh you hear yourself whisper, "I just want to be good."

After a beat, Venetia laughs airily.

"Careful about what you're implying, pet," but she actually sounds coy when she says it. It hits you a moment later what she means, and though you initially tried to deny it, Venetia can't help herself but continue, "I mean, I know our family's blessed with good genes, but -"

"Venetia, you're the one who asked if I think about Felix when I fuck you," you turned on her, feeling altogether flustered at the idea and desperate for her to stop talking. Venetia turns bright red, letting out a mortified shriek, but surprisingly Felix is grinning at you.

"Do you?"

"I..." but you can't look either of them in the eyes, "not usually -"

"Ha!" Felix immediately turns to shout in his sister's face, but despite this, Venetia lights up as if thoroughly vindicated.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" She crows with a delight neither you nor Felix had seemed to anticipate, "'He doesn't have a cunt, Ven'," she parroted your own words back at you from long ago in a mocking immitation, "god you were so fucking smarmy about it too, I knew you were lying!"

"I wasn't being smarmy, I was trying not to hurt your feelings!" You couldn't help but laugh, given the situation, however Venetia, head held high, barges right past you, opening the door.

"What hurts my feelings, pet," she tells you suddenly sounding incredibly matter-of-fact, making herself at home on the edge of the bed, looking at you both still in the doorway, "is that I'm pretty sure you're better when you go down on me while you're thinking about Felix," she gives her words a moment to settle in before emphasising - "like distinctly, probably measurably better."

When you turn to Felix, you're not quite sure exactly what you're anticipating, but it's definitely not for him to be looking as ridiculously smug as he does at that moment. You know he can tell how embarrassed you are by this all, but he clearly is taking it as a personal victory.

"For the record, I'm not shit at giving head when I'm not thinking about you."

That stupid, beautiful, smug bastard just grins wider at you.

"Obviously you're good," Venetia rolls her eyes, "we both know I've put too much time into this part of our friendship for you not to be, but," she pauses, wetting her lips as she waits for you to look back at her. When you turn back she's leaning back on her hands, wearing a surprisingly similar, pleased look as she very obviously leers at you. Of course you both already know the answer, but she asks anyways, just in the hopes of hearing you admit it; "I'm right, aren't I, Y/N?"

"Why does it even matter?" You tried weakly, unable to look at either of them as you made your way to the dresser to start removing your jewellery.

"It's a matter of principle," Felix, why, you think to yourself when you can hear his big, dumb grin in his voice. It's enough to remind you that you're all still rather drunk, but not enough for you to stop the conversation from heading in a very dangerous direction at full speed.

"No, Felix, shut up -" Venetia orders almost immediately at the sound of his delight regarding the implications she'd put forth about you, and he protests, but she ignores him, turning her focus back on you, "you're a slut for my brother, you've made that abundantly clear," she rolls her eyes dismissively, powering on despite how you were left reeling by how casually she'd said it, "who cares, I've made my peace with it, but -!" Eyebrows raised and eyes suddenly shining with a terrifying amount of glee, she grins at you, "if my theory is correct, then after tonight, Felix can hold it over my head until I die, and I get one of the best orgasms of my life."

Oh! Okay, this was a legitimate offer. Huh. Wait. Why did it already feel like you were the last one to realise she was being serious? Why did it already feel like you were the only one left to agree?

You weren't used to Felix and Venetia being on the same wavelength... Though honestly, if quietly, you really weren't complaining the more you think about it.

As much as you fucked around with them both, had spent a countless amount of time sharing casual nudity in the field together over the years with endless teasing and occasional curious questions here and there, and had spent more than a little time speculating about Venetia's desires on your own time, you hadn't... At least, not since you were all teens, and definitely never together like this.

Yeah, sure, there had been definitely quite a few times where you'd been with one of the siblings, or Farleigh, while one - or a few times both - were there, around. Sometimes it was accidental, sometimes it was something of a dare, or a twisted game, or a strange type of learning experience, but you were dumb, horny teenagers being dumb, horny teenagers.

But there's no youthful naivety in the way Venetia's looking at you now. Surprisingly, however, Felix speaks up in favour too.

"It does mean that you don't have to choose between us," he points out, voice gentle and warm as he approaches you. You've gone still by the dresser, conflicted desire pooling low in your gut as you spent more and more time considering it. Felix drapes himself over your shoulders, voice low and enticing in your ear, his gaze focused on yours in the mirror's reflection, "and I want the chance to make you feel good after the shitshow these few days have been," he murmurs, though he can't help but smirk as he adds, "we all know you get off on being good to us too."

"Are you sure? It's Venetia," you reminded him, giving him a last chance at an out even if you know he won't take it.

"Yeah, but I'm not fucking her," he points out flatly, "and it's not like it's much worse than what happened during that layover in Dubai a few years ago-"

"You two are absolute animals for that, god, I forgot about that," Venetia practically cackled as your eyes go wide as you too suddenly recall the moment Felix was talking about, "I still can't believe Y/N's into -"

"Shut up, Venetia!" You hissed through clenched teeth, mortified at the memory of what she'd witnessed when you and Felix had gotten back from the hotel bar and toppled into the bed across from hers in the little hotel room, "you promised you'd never bring that up, on pain of death." Venetia only laughs louder. Still, Felix had a point; somehow this was much less embarrassing. At least for you.

So it takes you only a few more moments of deliberation before you inevitably give in to your collective desire. Just for a second, however, before acting on it, you find yourself seeing right through Felix's intentions and seductive tone. He of course did want to be good to you, you knew that to be true, and you did get off on getting others off, but there was a key part that he was purposefully leaving out. He knows you see it; his expression is scrunching with amusement already as he rests his chin on your shoulder, anticipating your next words -

"You really wanna hold this over Ven's head, don't you?" At your words, your bright laughter, Felix immediately breaks, doesn't even try to deny it as he's laughing too.

"I really wanna hold this over her head forever and ever, yes."

"It's not like you'll ever tell anyone," Venetia points out archly from the bed. Upon consideration, you both realise she's absolutely right, and Felix's face falls for a moment, though you pat his cheek in consolidation.

"We'll know," you reassure him, and he's bright once more, ascertaining that as long as the three of you know it's worth it; you're the only three who would give a shit in the exact, weird way he needs you to anyways. Venetia blows a loud, petulant raspberry at you both.

Glancing over your shoulder, suddenly more than a little nervous despite your excitement building too, you see Venetia still thankfully grinning. Felix steps back from you, heading to sit down by her side. The two of them now regard you with eerily similar, evaluative looks.

"I feel like Farleigh once warned us something like this would happen," Felix says with a half smile, glancing at Venetia as he pulled off his bowtie.

"Which is why - again - we're never ever telling anyone about this," Venetia says firmly, which Felix snorts a quiet laugh at as he agrees, "especially not Farleigh," reaching up, she unclasp her own sparkling ensemble where it was tied at the back of her neck. As she does so, her gaze fixes back on you, on where you were now hovering with nervous anticipation. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest very suddenly - this is not where you had expected this night to go, not that you were complaining, it was just that you didn't quite know how to proceed. God you hoped at least one of them would set up and take the lead, because there was no way you could bring yourself to even consider taking charge in this moment.

Before Venetia can even get a word in, however, Felix speaks up, teasing you in a low voice.

"Thought you didn't want to choose?"

"I didn't- I don't," you assured quickly, feeling all tipsy and giddy and nervous and excited all at once, frozen to the spot when you can't be sure which one you should be acting on, "this is definitely the perfect solution to that," you giggled nervously, beginning to fidget, before suddenly looking at Venetia in alarm, head whipping around to look at Felix, "but I'm not getting off to the fact that you're siblings, for the record -" Felix makes a noise of vaguely horrified surprised, but Venetia just laughs.

"You can if you want," she teases coyly, "if it helps." Helps you get her off, you know she means.

"Fucking Christ, Vee," Felix mutters under his breath, but you can hear his amusement. This, thankfully, has alleviated your concerns, and you grin.

"So we're all- this is -? I just- I didn't expect- are you both -?"

"I'm rather excited," Venetia smirks casually, standing and turning away from you, sweeping her hair over her shoulders as an indication that she needs you to undo the zip down the back of her jumpsuit, "part of me does honestly wonder if all those whorish noises you both make are still real," she speaks as if you're not even here, even as your hands glide over her, helping her out of her clothes.

"Hey!" Felix protests as he's beckoning you over, "those weren't meant for you!" Venetia pouts for a moment when you leave her side, but gets over it quickly, draping herself, nude, back across the bed you and Felix share.

"Se ducing the street rat?" She asks candidly, to which both you and Felix both tell her to be nice, almost in synch. In response, Venetia fakes gagging and mutters that she hates you both. Then, after a moment of deliberation, she idly mentions with a vague air of disgust that she doesn't want to think about Oliver and Felix together.

"I don't want you thinking about Oliver at all, actually," Felix says cattily as he's undoing the buttons of your jumpsuit, to which she rolls her eyes and calls him possessive, "do you want to leave?" Felix asks her with a frank, unimpressed look, "you can go if you're going to be a pain; you don't have to be here, Vee."

Venetia groans as if putting up with Felix in this moment was quickly becoming a much bigger downside than she'd anticipated, but she does agree to stay and not to talk about Oliver. Felix's expression softens then when he casts an amused look to you where you've finished making quick work of undoing his dress shirt. Once he too has you unbuttoned, you shrug off the jumpsuit, letting it pool by your feel before you kick it away. His hands hold your bare thighs securely, all bickering forgotten in this moment as he gazed up at you with nothing but affection in the way he's regarding you. Leaning in, you kiss him, unable to fight back your own smile.

"But if it turns out you're bad at fucking and Y/N's been faking it with you this whole time, I will tell Farleigh," Venetia warns sharply, interrupting your moment as she seemed unable to help herself from needling the two of you even now. Which may have been her plan all along, you realise upon seeing her smile as you both arc up with indignation at the implication.

If Felix is fucking you absolutely senseless out of spite, you all know she'll still benefit from it.

It becomes something of a blur after that, Felix rolling his eyes as he undoes your buttons while Venetia refuses to help you out of your clothes before it's a rush of sweat and sex and breathless pleasure, moments to breathe and more wine. The Cattons push and pull and puppet you for their pleasure, much to your own, and you lose track of how it should feel wrong when it really starts to feel so fucking right.

Venetia was absolutely right; you absolutely loved how spoiled and entitled they could be, especially if it's you and your body they're acting so entitled over.

Finally, on your back, legs wrapped around Felix's waist, you're bracedagainst Venetia's trembling thighs as she desperately rides your face. All three of you seem to know she's getting closer, and Felix fucks you in deep, steady strokes. But he leans forward, his hand coming to rest firmly on the back of Venetia's neck as she's gasping and panting. He pulls her close enough that their foreheads press together, Venetia, incoherent and eyes squeezed closed, and his other hand gently hold her face, thumb brushing against her cheek.

"That's it, Vee, show them how much you appreciate them," Felix mumbled encouragingly, and Venetia gasps at the sound of his voice, winding her arms around his neck, bracing herself against him as she grew steadily closer to her peak.

"You're such a freak, Felix," Venetia whimpers, as if she wasn't a completely willing and enthusiastic participant in the events, "I can't believe -" but then you whimpered against her cunt, tongue fucking her desperately as you dug the nails of one hand into her thighs, fingers of the other finding her clit and setting a relentless pace. The change had her swearing and moaning, sharing desperate panting breaths with her brother, never quite crossing that gossamer thread into something they both couldn't justify, that line in the sand neither could talk their way into coming back from.

"Let them get you off, Vee," Felix murmurs, "if you're gonna call them a dog, let them be a good one for you," you let out an appreciative noise, at his praise, keeping up how insistently, thoroughly you were fucking her with your tongue and fingers. Venetia comes with her forehead braced on Felix's shoulder, him holding her close, fingers running through her hair as she gasps and shudders, her thighs twitching either side of your head.

Venetia catching her breath shuffles back, breathing hard as she sat back against the bedpost at the foot of the bed, giving Felix the chance to focus on fucking you properly himself. In the next moment he's over you, has your knees pressed against your chest beneath him before your head has even stopped spinning from the sensations of it all. The way he's smiling down at you, all amused and affectionate - god, he almost looks proud - while his cock is deep inside of you at this new, perfect angle, its enough for you to know you won't last much longer.

"It's actually really gross how hot I find you right now, pet," Venetia's smirking at you when you angle your head to look at her, your expression one of dazed bliss. She reaches languidly down the side of the bed to where you'd left your jumpsuit, fishing around in the pocket for your cigarettes. You hear Felix's warm laughter as he presses his face against the crook of your neck, but thank fuck he doesn't stop, because you're so damn close. You've lost the ability to speak, to even really think, so caught up in the way you're coming undone under their combined attention and affection.

"You always this pretty when you're about to cum?" Venetia's voice is low and sultry, reaching out to caress your cheek with her free hand. She's sitting by you now, leaning down on her elbow to drink in the sight of you like this, "or just when Felix is being especially good to you?" And she kisses you messily, a pleased moan escaping her as she tastes herself on your tongue. Felix gasps 'fuck' against your collar, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as the feeling of you cumming around him tips him over the edge too. Venetia grins against your lips as you whimper and gasp into her mouth, hand fisting in her hair as the pleasure overwhelms you.

When you let her go, she's smiling softly, her forehead pressed to yours as you pant, trying to catch your breath, reorient yourself.

"They're always this pretty," Felix finally says a little breathlessly. Venetia laughs softly, sitting up again, though she takes your hand. Felix gently lowers your legs back to the bed before he moves to stand; you can hear the grin in his voice even if you're still to dazed to even sit up. It's with absolute bliss that you gaze up at the ceiling of stars you'd painted for him, watching the faintest traces that are still glowing.

"I think you're just always good to them," Venetia teases fondly before she gives your hand a squeeze, looking down at you, "he is, isn't he? He's such a loverboy when it comes to you, it's sickening, truly," but there's no bite to her words. There's a pleasant fog in your mind leftover from all the sensations you're still coming down from, so all you can do is beam up at her, nodding.

And when Felix laughs, you feel it light up in your chest.

"Can I borrow a robe?" Venetia asks idly, finally dropping your hand; she too stands, "my point has been well and truly proven, and I think I've had enough of you both for tonight." After Felix tosses her a robe, he offers you a hand to help you to your feet; he sounds somehow both proud and sheepish when he apologises after noticing how your legs are trembling.

With her sparkly ensemble and shoes in hand, Venetia's left the room before you even make it to the bathroom to clean up.

"Oh God," in the shower, Felix seems to be hit by a realisation that leaves him more than a little mortified, "I hope Ollie didn't hear any of that." The thought hadn't even occurred to you, and for the barest moment your expression mirrors his as your hand comes up to cover your mouth. Then, after another moment of consideration, Felix's seems to become more thoughtful than concerned as he utters, "actually," he deliberates, "is it weird that I think Ollie would be just as into that as we were?" He has a point, and you snort a laugh, shaking your head, and Felix's embarrassed laughter joins yours after only a moment more.

Unfortunately, as you would find out the following morning, not only was Oliver completely oblivious to the vaguely taboo tryst that had happened in the room attached his own, but it somehow wasn't even the most scandalous thing that had happened that night.

[murdrdocs]

implied suggestive content; implied threesome

if there's two true things about felix catton, it's that he has a kind heart, and he loves a charity case.

he won't admit it, but you know that the cute boy tucked under his arm is exactly that—felix’s new charity case.

you're supportive, but distant. oliver quick, as kind as he is, isn't your friend. not all of the friends your boyfriend has are yours. but you're nice, you're cordial, attempting to radiate warmth when around oliver instead of the cold shoulder farleigh loved to give.

its not until felix tells you why he's taken to oliver that you start to become more warm, more generous.

"his family's a mess," whispered in your ear as both of you stand at the makeshift bar. oliver stands awkwardly in the corner, holding a red solo cup in his hand as his eyes flit around the crowd. he finds you and felix eventually, catching your eye and sending a small smile along with a raise of his cup.

"just be nice to him, yeah? make him feel welcomed."

but you don't think this is what felix meant. you don't know if by 'welcomed' felix meant letting oliver touch you like you belonged to him. hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips, gripping the fat of them in order to pull you closer against his groin.

felix stands before both of you, his hands wrapped around a pole as he dances. sweat sticks his brown curls to his forehead, and it makes his skin glisten, allowing the multicolored lights flickering throughout the basement to reflect against his face and neck.

he looks so beautiful like this.

it entrances you, and when you look over your shoulder, you see that oliver feels similarly. you make eye contact, thinking the same, and both of you grin before breaking out into a fit of giggles. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest, and you're suddenly made aware of the boner pressing against your ass.

its then that felix takes the couple of steps to get closer to you. he leans down, pressing his lips to yours, and then trails kisses to your earlobe completely uncaring about the way your own perspiration coats your face.

when he reaches your ear, he nips lightly, presses his groin into your front so that you're sandwiched between both boys, and tells you:

"let's show ollie here a good time."

[itscherrylipsforme]

Everything fits into place: Oliver Quick x fem!reader

Part 1 here

Summary: After having fallen in love with you at an Oxford's library, Oliver planned everything out until he could have you wrapped around his fingers. Now that your school year is over, you have been invited to spend the firsts months of Summer in Saltburn. You were certainly not expecting what you found there, but don't worry, Ollie was already three steps ahead

Warnings: Post Saltburn fic, a little bit dark (it’s Oliver, what you expected?), age gap (he is around 15-17 years older), slightly innocent kin? (A little bit spicy, but nothing really sexual)

Requested: yes

Words: Something between 700-800 words

Author's rambles: As I have seen that people somehow enjoyed my shitty writing I decided to make part two. Hope you like it!

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Oliver hadn't told you much about Saltburn, you could only gather the crumbs of information he left once in a while. A beautiful big home in the northwest that he had inherited from a woman he considered to be kind of his "second mother" after she passed away, that was all that you knew about it. Once he also he mentioned that she had met her through her son, who had been in Ollie's year in uni, that had committed suicide when both of them were young. All of that seemed like tragic memories that your boyfriend tried to bury in his past, so you didn't want to dig much on it not to hurt him.

But during the three hours long car ride that you had to do from Oxford to your Summer destination, you were expecting that at least he could describe it with more the detail. To your surprise he didn't and when the two of you arrived at the mansion he was able to call "home" now, just surprised was not the exact word you would use to describe what you were feeling. When the maid who had opened the doors of that palace to the two of you was ordered to dismiss by "Mr Quick" as they referred him, you couldn't help but ask.

"Why didn't you tell me you were practically living like a prince, Ollie?"

"Had to make sure you truly loved me and weren't after my money, darling" He answered plainly and tried to change the subject "Come on, let me show you the place"

"You know I am not like that" You protested. Maybe you wouldn't go as far as saying that you were offended, but you would be lying if you said his words didn't hurt a little at least.

You trusted him with every piece of your heart and soul. Told him all your secrets and all the times you had lost all your hope. You loved him enough to talk about it when you fell like nothing more like some broken mess that no one, not even him, could fix. And yet he couldn't do the same? Couldn't he trust enough for this until now Somehow Oliver managed to read your thoughts from the expression of worry on your face

"My beautiful beautiful y/n I am aware of It now. But trust me, I know better than anyone else how far people can go to gain power, I needed to be sure" His eyes seemed to darken a little for a few brief second lost in his mind until he came back and rested his hand sweetly on your cheek "How can I apologize to my beloved girlfriend for putting her through a trial?"

"Well, one of the few things you did tell me about this place was that it had a library" A little grin played on your lips while he held your hand and guided you through the maze that mansion was.

Four weeks later, you two were laying in the bed you have been sharing during your stay. His arm around your waist a little bit too tight, as you had learned he liked, and your head resting on the crock of his neck. It was one of those lazy mornings that you could spend peacefully in each other embrace.

"You know every day for the rest of our life could be like this" His nose and lips dancing dangerously close to your face as his hand rubbed your back up and down.

"Ollie, that was a funny one" A small giggle echoed in the room.

"I am serious y/n" His big blue eyes glued to you as he started kissing, your forehead, your cheek, your lips... "We could sooner than later. Marry, have you in my bed each morning, and maybe a few kids around if you are up for it. Doesn't it sound good for your"

"I need to finish my degree first, Ollie" His lips now on your neck, and gosh he knew pretty well that you couldn't say no to anything when he did those kind of things.

"Of course you have that, I am not saying otherwise" Actually, you didn't need to finish it, once you were his you wouldn't have to work a single day in your life. But if you wished to gain your diploma to be happy, he wouldn't dare to say otherwise. "Maybe after you graduated, what do you think about?"

You just smiled at his sweet trail of kisses, and he took it as a yes. Soon enough you would be tied forever, soon enough you would be his wife, soon enough you two would be better than the Cattons have ever been. Soon enough, everything from his plan would fit into place.

[fademirrored]

beta: Inquisitor

“Bit like a fox, that one. Fast, pointy, and brightly colored.”

Oleander “Olly” Trevelyan (‘Foxtrot’ if you’re Varric.) Inquisitor. Human noble.

Male. He/Him/His. Pansexual. 11 Harvestmere, 9:14 Dragon Ostwick, Free Marches. Rogue; duel wield. Assassin.

FC: Alexander Skarsgard, circa early True Blood. Eyes: Pale blue, purple towards the center in the right light. Hair: Platinum blond, verging on white. Shoulder blade-length, usually in a messy ponytail. Very fine. Skin: Incredibly pale. Does not tan. Does not freckle. Will only crisp like bacon. Calloused hands. Height: 6'2" Build: Tall, leggy. Broad shouldered, tapered waist. Well built, but built more for sprinting and ambushing than for direct melee combat. Notable Details: Crooked nose; broke it when he was younger. Scar through his right eyebrow. Has albinism. Voice: Graverobber from Repo! The Genetic Opera

Positives: Unambiguously friendly, assuming he hasn’t been given a reason to be wary or hostile; generally fairly accepting and open to strangers and newcomers. Resilient, physically and mentally; he bounces back from most things fairly quickly, his good cheer only mildly dinged. Independent and very curious; he genuinely wants to know as much about the people around him as they’ll let him get away with. Diplomatic; good at figuring out what concessions can and should be made, and knows when to put his foot down if someone is trying to push things too far. Negatives: He’s a bona fide little shit; you know he’s your friend because he will give you unending amounts of well-meaning shit until you regret using the word ‘friend’ anywhere where he can hear you. As such, he can be prone to getting on peoples nerves and it only gets worse when he’s nervous. Self-sacrificing dip, quite willing to ignore his own needs for extended periods if acknowledging them would cause distress; he takes his self-assigned role as the morale officer a touch too seriously. Stubborn and sometimes naive; too willing to believe a situation has taken a turn for the better when it probably hasn’t, equally unwilling to say a situation has gotten worse when it has. Had a sheltered upbringing; he means no harm, but can be tactless and clueless around elves, dwarves, and qunari. Neutrals: Fairly chummy. Usually wears his heart on his sleeve. Extroverted and incredibly social. Energetic. Very tactile and at ease about physical contact. Optimist vs. Pessimist: Usually an optimist, though he tries to be a realist. Quirks: Wears glasses at home/base. Usually wears dark goggles and/or a hood if he’s in the field; can be seen shading his eyes with his hand, papers, or anything convenient if he’s outside and doesn’t have his goggles. Hard of hearing; watches people intently when they’re talking to him. He can and will snap his fingers in someone’s face to remind them to look at him while they’re talking. Knows Ostwick-specific sign language. Very partial to a sickle and a hook blade, rather than straight blades. Gesticulates a lot while speaking.

Religion: Loosely Andrastian; believed less and less as the events progressed. Likes: Clothing with high-quality materials, even if his color choices can be questionable. Foxes. Fennecs. One hell of a sweet tooth. Warm weather yeah Skyhold was a hit. History. Art, of various types. Dislikes: People who mumble. Ambient noise, especially a lot of people talking over each other. Masks. Dark colors. Red wine. Cold weather, and especially snow he can’t fucking see. Feeling useless or like he’s in the way. Favorite Colors: Red. Yellow. Orange. Gold. Hobbies: Chess. Reading. Drawing. Getting into peoples business and generally being a puppy. Recreational parkour; can frequently be found on ledges, on roofs, or up trees at random times. Falconry. Writes letters home a lot.

Family: Estelle Trevelyan (mother). Everell Trevelyan (father). Steed: Citrine; hunter-shade dracolisk. Other Critters: Verity; hunting falcon. Romance: None. Friends: Dorian. Solas. Varric. Cassandra. Cullen. Note: Was and still is very close with his parents. Grew up as an only child, but I headcanon that his parents took in a handful of the youngest mages to escape from Ostwick’s Circle, to keep them safe.*everything in this sectioncan of course be tweaked or disregarded entirely for specific threads, if you’d rather.

[everythingne]

marketing ploy - LN4 / ch. 3

a little (drunken) insight to Olivia and Oscar's relationship. Plus, a conversation she’s definitely not supposed to overhear, and one she finds makes her start to regret everything.

piastri!oc x lando norris / fake dating, brothers best friend trope

warnings/notes: alcohol/drunkness, language, like two jokes about sex, i named oscars sisters bc i couldn't find anything after two minutes of searching and also its cute ok

prev | next

—

06 APRIL 2023 — MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA ↴

“Oscar!” I shout, the clock striking midnight. At my mother's house in Melbourne, we’re already all terribly drunk in the pool with only our eldest sister Ophelia's half sober boyfriend to make sure we all don’t drown while the 'middle' sister Oaklynn is in control of the aux so our extended family can't ruin the mood with what we call 'divorced dad rock.' It's an average Piastri birthday party, booze, music, and sopping wet bodies across the pool deck in the mid Autumn chill.

“Ollie?” Oscar says, turning around and slipping on the wet deck, splashing vodka all over the ground beneath him. Lily giggles into the back of her hand, steadying herself on his arm, and I snort as Oscar makes a face at the spilled drink.

We were so not going to have a good flight back to England tomorrow night.

“Happy birthday to my twin brother because its now midnight, baby!” I shout, being met with loud cheers as my mother guides me across the pool deck so I don't fall in. As Lily takes the now half empty glass from Oscar, I'm handing him what is probably the biggest shot of the night. He grins, arm wrapping around my shoulder as we clink our glasses in toast, tap them on our lifting knees and then take the shots with no chasers. The Fireball washes down my throat fine, but Lily’s shrill laugh lets me know Oscar’s not faring so well as our family claps at our celebratory shots.

“Come on, Ossie!” I laugh, leaning into him as I giggle and he laughs in turn, hiding his face in my hair as he groans and slumps against me. Luckily, Lily is smart enough to slip the shot glasses out of our hands.

“Why do I always let you pick Fireball? It burns every time I drink it.” He complains into my hair before stepping back, I grin up at him as a polaroid flashes.

“Twenty two slaps!” someone shouts before I can respond to Oscar. I scream, running to be out of the way of the barrage of backhands from our sisters when I trip. Oscar tries to catch me, bless him, and we both end up screaming as we tumble into the pool with a loud splash.

“Good lord—" Josh, Ophelia's boyfriend laughs, and he and Lily help us all back to the deck with plenty of half-wet towels to try and dry us off. I giggle and sit up once the parties attention is shifted elsewhere, some song playing that takes the heat off of us for a moment. I peek up to look at Oscar and he smiles at me, poking my nose.

“Thanks for this party." He says and I shrug, going to say its no big deal as I always do when he continues talking,

"Lando’s stress is rubbing off on me. With him being next in line for the best racer position, McLaren's pushing me and Bia up as quick as they can. I think they're expecting someone to try and buy Lando out from them.” he murmurs and in my head, the rest of the party fizzles out. My attention is solely on the man born a few minutes before me. His arm wraps around mine as he pulls me to his side. I slot there, where I belong, a comforting embrace of an older brother of the same womb.

"Lando's contract goes to 2026, and lets not worry about F1 right now." I poke his thigh where a bruise from a minor crash in training months back was finally finishing its healing stages, "Ossie, you, and everyone here, come before anything or anyone else. I would rather throw you a big party than fly back to England to chase around statistics with Red Bull for a few days."

I close my eyes as the world spins around me and I feel Oscar shift. His body heat vanishing around my shoulders, the air seemingly changes as some sort of breeze rolls across the pool deck. It makes me shiver, and I glance up at Oscar to see him staring into the light reflections of the glowsticks deep in the water our legs dip into.

“Ossie?” I whisper. He's in his head again, and this time I'm concerned it's my fault for some reason. His tongue pokes out, a sharp breath coming through his nose before he turns to me.

“What’s happening with you and Lando?"

Oh for the love of god--

"I know, I know, okay, older brother don’t let him hurt you speech bullshit blah blah but… is there something there?” Oscar blurts out with the upmmost care in his tone. I'm taken aback by how genuinely worried he seems about it.

“It’s nothing serious.” I deflect, hand coming to squeeze his wrist just above the watch he wears (that is definitely ruined now), “Just some flirting, some gifts… it’s like testing the waters.”

“Is he… kind to you?” Oscar's tone is far too accusing for my liking, almost like he's expecting me to say no, but despite that I nod.

“Too kind.” I find a small giggle escapes my lips. I have the urge to tell him everything, to say it’s all for media, but something makes me stop myself other than knowing it would kinda ruin the whole secrecy of it. Oscar watches my face, and I can see him sense there’s a lie, but he doesn’t push.

“Okay.” he sighs, taking my hand and squeezing it, “as long as he’s good to you.”

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST ↴

tagged: oscarpiastri, oaklynnpiastri, opheliapiastri

liked by redbullracing, mclarenracing, landonorris, and 896k others...

oliviapiastri: to ossie,

happy birthday to the only guy worthy of sharing a girls night wine bottle with. thank u for always being our biggest supporter in the darkest days and a ray of sunshine on our good ones. papaya looks wonderful on u and we cannot wait to see you grow into such a confident person (thank u @ landonorris for that)

ur a good man, charlie brown. much love from oakie, ophie, and ollie (and lily, josh, momma, and dad) 🧡🧡

landonorris: happy birthday to the only guy who is allowed to pick me up from the club atp

⤷ oscarpiastri: u would be dead without me

⤷ landonorris: actually.

maxverstappen1: ayyy happy birthday man !

lovepiastris: AAAA BABY OSCAR!!!

oscarpiastri: watch me literally sob into this chardonnay.

mclaren: easily the best looking siblings 💪🏻😮‍💨

10 APRIL 2023 — MILTON KEYNES, UK ↴

"I'm bored." Oscar whines over the phone, making me laugh as I settle down at my desk in Red Bull's home base. There's about sixteen hours worth of things I need to cram into the next eight, considering my statistics for the next grand prix are due in like... twenty six hours?

"Aren't you supposed to be training?" I hum, reading through files and highlighting important notes I know I'll need to bring up with my team during our meeting tonight.

"Lando's going right now, and I kinda almost puked after endurance so I’m taking a break.” He makes a mock gagging noise and I recoil and groan and his soft laughter comes through my headphones.

"Christ, Ossie." I lean back in my chair, staring at the list of notes of things we need to improve by Azerbaijan, "Augh, this is gonna be the death of me. Max's numbers keep changing so he keeps skewing the data, at least Perez is pretty consistent."

"How many sensors do you guys have for Azerbaijan?"

"I'm not doing that work today, thats Kylie's job. Most of my work right now is just making sure that the car isn’t literally falling apart in Max’s hands since he’s been pushing it so hard this year.” I run my hand through my hair, feeling the grease along my hairline and cringing. I need a self-care day soon.

"Oh and Kylie’s pretty much running real time analytics herself this race so I might be able to hang around you at McLaren for a while if Christian's not breathing down my neck."

“Sick. I need to introduce you to the new social media photographer. Lando convinced her to a do a whole section on film.” Oscar giggles and my eyes widen--film photography was one of my passions in secondary school, and I can't imagine trying to shoot F1 on it.

“This poor girl.” I laugh as I adjust my seating and open the sensors scan from the left tire of Max's car, noting any abnormalties that haven't already been flagged. In the silent lull in the conversation, there’s a click and a creak on Oscar’s end of the call.

“Oscar—“ Lando’s talking is muffled for half a second before I hear something fall and a chair squeak, “what were you trying to ask me about earlier?”

My did my heart flutter when I heard Lando talk?

Nope. No. No, thank you. No.

I did not like Lando Norris.

“Oh—hold on Ollie—I’m going to attempt to mute.” I hear Oscar laugh as he taps his phone-screen, and like many times I’ve been on the phone with him I have to pause to see if he actually managed to mute the call.

Oscar seemed to always miss the important buttons, like hanging up or muting himself. Over the years, I’ve heard quite a few things I wasn’t supposed to.

Like Oscar’s next question—

“If I don’t just say it I’m never gonna ask, because it’s such a cliche thing but—what exactly are you trying to do with my sister..?”

I nearly die as my cheeks flush bright red as I scramble to pick my phone up.

Okay, super overdramatic reaction, but hearing this conversation happen in real time is not something I can feel like I would be able to physically handle. So, I’m quick to turn my volume all the way down and take off my headphones as soon as Lando’s laugh makes my cheeks dust pink.

Oscar was never particularly protective over me, in fact it had always been opposite. Even as the youngest Piastri I was constantly protecting my older siblings with my whole heart, like when Oaklynn was being bullied by her pole vaulting captain and I hit that guy so hard I broke his nose, or when Ophelia first got her heart broken and I drove all the way from Melbourne to Sydney in one go to pick her and her stuff up from his house. Oscar and I had many moments like that, considering our sisters were a bit older than us, it was always Oscar and I together. I had moved to England with him when he chose to pursue racing, he had been there every late night I spent studying to get into analytics as early as I had.

And I knew one day Oscar would have this conversation with the man I would marry, someone who took my entire heart in his hands and held it so gently I felt safer than I ever had.

But, Lando was not that guy. Not as far as I was aware.

Maybe ten minutes later, figuring the conversation is long done, I turn up the volume and just catch the end of it. Oscar's laughing, theres a soft thwack of someones arm being hit as Lando keeps talking, his voice fading into my headphones.

"...Ollie's just... I could stare at her all day and never get bored."

"You are--" Oscar laughs, and I hear him hit Lando's arm again, "so so goddamn cheesy, mate!"

"Sorry!" Lando laughs, and I try to ignore the way I bring a hand to my mouth as I stand up and pace around a little, shaking my hands and arms out a I try to suppress the giggles that bubble to my chest.

10 APRIL 2023 — IMESSAGE ↴

OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST ↴

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 978k others..

oliviapiastri: ‘can i come pick u up from work?’ and then we end up at a car meet AND i get to sleep over?? win win.

⤷ maxverstappen1: @ charlesleclerc shovel talk?

⤷ charlesleclerc: yep.

⤷ oliviapiastri: oscar has already been yelling at me for like five hrs pls i swear nothing happened

redbullracing: lets just not tell christian you were out of the sunroof of a drift car.

mc481: lando and olivia spotted together... olivia suddenly has a new bf...

oaklynnpiastri: BABY SISTER HAS A BOYYYY AAAAAAAA

letsgolando: OH MY GOD THE FLOWERS?

18 APRIL 2023 - AZERBAIJAN GP PADDOCKS ↴

"Olivia Piastri."

"Max Verstappen."

"Olivia Louise Rae Piastri."

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc."

"Shit, she remembered."

I snort as I set my bag down as Max and Charles hover at my desk in the Azerbaijan paddocks. I'm starting to think the Ferrari driver might be having a contract change soon if his team is so lax with him basically living with us in Red Bull.

"What?" I ask, crossing my arms as the fabric of one of Lando's plain black leather jackets he'd lent me rubs the fabric of the sweatshirt I'd stolen from him underneath.

"How was your drift date?" Max grins and I roll my eyes as I plop down in my chair. Charles takes his spot in one of the side chairs as Max sits on the edge of my desk.

"He showed up to Red Bull, brought me flowers, we stopped to get takeout food and then went to the car show. He knew one of the guys drifting so we got to ride in his car and then he invited me over to watch a movie and we both fell asleep halfway through." I lean forward, "does that satisfy you?"

"Sleep?" Charles prods and I take a pen off my desk and throw it at him.

"Yes, sleep." I huff and before Max and Charles can continue their barrage of idiotic comments and questions, three knocks sound to the creak of the hinges as Christian steps into my office with Ada right behind him.

"Morning Chris, Ada." I nod and Max and Charles stand, greeting them both with firm handshakes.

"Ferrari might need their driver back, Leclerc, and Max--you need to get dressed." Christian waves them off without as much as a hello, before Ada shuts and locks my office door.

"What?" I find myself asking again as Ada grins to me.

"Sales are up 70%." She says, "We've made around... 28 thousand pounds so far."

"Holy shit." Is all I can say. 28 thousand pounds in revenue because Lando and I were pretending to date?

"You guys are doing swimmingly, we just have one more stipulation. You've already done the soft launch, Lando will be doing his tonight. The next thing you guys need to do, other than the paparazzi date but Astrid is working with Lando on that right now, is the celebration." Ada clasps her hands, Christian nods, keeping his back to the door that leads into the office and for some reason it feels suffocating.

"Great Britain. Hopefully Lando will podium, its his home race, a nice little kiss, it'll be cute."

We have to kiss in front of everyone. How could I fucking forget? The GB prix isnt for a while, two months if I remember right, but my mouth goes dry at the thought of kissing Lando Norris.

I don't remember agreeing and bidding goodbye to the two, all I know is my stomach ache doesn't go away for the rest of the night. Even when I ball the fabric of Lando's jacket--still smelling like him, over my face and scream into it.

LANDONORRIS MADE A NEW POST

liked by oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 987k others

landonorris: made a pretty good pinkie promise a while ago.

oscarpiastri: good man

mclaren: we love to see our racers winning 🥹

mercedeeznnn: this has to be olivia. IT HAS TO BE.

maxfewtrell: don't fuck it up norris

⤷ landonorris: trying

rbfansunite: so we're all thinking the same thing right?

papapa.ya: LANDO AND OLIVIA !!!! WE WIN !!!!

[haveihitanerve]

“Where the hell is bats?” Superman looked up in surprise, finding a very angry looking Green Lantern standing above him, hands on his hips. Clark turned and did a quick scan of the tower. “Uh, meeting room with Barry and Ollie-” “Thanks.” Hal bit out quickly and turned on his heel, storming for said meeting room. “Hal wait-!” Clark stumbled to his feet and sped after him but Hal seemed to have no intentions of stopping and plowed right into the meeting room, slamming both doors open. Clark, unbelievably, heard Bruce sigh. “When the fuck were you gonna tell me?” The Lantern demanded. Bruce had removed his cowl, standing at the table with the other two men, who had both removed their costumes and were dressed in sweatpants and a Batman hoodie. Hal gave them both unimpressed looks. “Really?” “what?” Barry defended, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “B is the only one who actually has a change of clothes here thats comfy.” “Something that needs to change by the way.” Bruce informed him, pointing his pen at them. “Thats Dick’s and Jason’s and while Jason is sure to be fine with it, Dick gets a little stiff about sharing his hoodie.” Oliver raised an eyebrow, setting his feet on the table as he sharpened an arrow. “Really? He doesn't share hoodies?” “Oh he shares them.” Bruce corrected. “Just not that one. Not often.” Hal smirked, seemingly understanding the underlying meaning, then his face turned back to anger. “Ahem.” He growled. Bruce sighed, turning to face the man. “Why do-” “if you're about to ask why i even care i will shove his arrow up your ass.” Hal fired off before Bruce could finish. Bruce rubbed his forehead. “Its not a big deal.” “Its most definitely a big deal, especially since I only learned about it because fucking Damian threw an ingraved katanna at me that had it on it.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Really?” “Thats fucking scary and insane Bruce!” Hal shouted. “A katana?” Barry asked, interest piqued. Hal gave a quick nod. “Yeah. its actually pretty cool except it has that written on it and he didn't tell me.” Bruce sighed, slumping into a chair. Clark hovered in the doorway, extremely confused. “Why didn't you tell me?” Hal demanded, still standing. “I never intended for you to find out?” Bruce offered, wincing. “Wrong fucking answer Bats.” Bruce chuckled. “I know, I know. Its just- it wasn't important?” He offered instead. Hals face grew positively murderous. “Are you serious right now Bruce?” Bruce sighed. “Its- its not a big deal!” He defended. Hal scoffed. “Right. As if. I bet you even jason showed up. Thats how ‘not big of a deal’ it is.” Bruce sighed once more. “Jason- he shows up for it no matter what. Its- hes more reliable than Dick in that sense.” Hal glared at him. Bruce deflated. “Okay. Okay alright im sorry. I’ll- well you know now so..” Hal shook his head and looked at Oliver. “Were you there?” Ollie glanced at Bruce then back at Hal. Hal scoffed in disgust. “Wow. Wow. Barry, I don't even have to ask. I was wondering why you were vibrating the other day. Was the cake good, huh?” Barry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry um, I’m still unclear as to what we’re talking about.” Clark finally intervened, stepping into the room. Hal glanced at him. “Oh. Bats here forgot to tell me it was his birthday.” “its not that big of a deal!” Bruce protested. Hal shook his head in defeat. “Alright whatever Batsy. It doesn't even matter. I got Dick to promise he’d invite me next year so whatever. But I am buying you dinner!” He pointed a threatening finger at the male. Bruce’s lips twitched. “Alright Lantern. If you insist.” Ollie chuckled and Hal finally released his anger, slinging an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “I really do.”

[backtothefanfiction]

Drunk Tennis

Summary: drunk shinanigans result in Felix living up to his nickname

Warnings: drinking, hurt/comfort

“Okay! My turn!” You called out to the group as you kicked off your heels and made your way over to the net where they had all gathered to pass round a fresh bottle of bubbly between them.

“Yes!!!” Venetia cried, “Now we can do boys versus girls!”

“Yeah but then it’ll be three against two, that’s hardly fair.” Felix interjected.

“It’s fine.” Farliegh piped up, “I much prefer being umpire anyway.” He said taking one of the mostly full champagne bottles, lifting it to his mouth to take a swig, only to quickly hold it at arms length as it frothed and he almost choked on it.

You felt Venetia smash into your side as you all chuckled.

“Come on you lot! Rackets up!” Farleigh called as he climbed up onto the umpires seat at the side of the court.

Felix smiled at you, holding out the bottle in his hand for you to take a drink before the game began.

“Watch that smirk Catton.” You said with a sly smile as you lowered the bottle from your lips again to hold it back out to him.

He scoffed, dipping his gaze to the floor with a shake of his head, “Yes because those tennis lessons I paid for you to take last summer were so successful.”

You shoved the bottle back into his chest and both he and Ollie laughed as you pouted.

“Oh it’s on brother.” Venetia rallied beside you, holding out her tennis racket in front of her like a sword with which to challenge him with.

“Very well.” Felix mused, flashing his cocky smirk and you and your sister again as you all slowly began to step backwards into position to start.

“Right, everybody! I want a clean match!” Farliegh said between dramatic swigs of his own bottle.

“Wait, who’s got the ball?” Venetia shrieked.

Felix gave a quick cheeky wave of luminous green between his fingers before he began to toss it in the air, forcing everyone to snap to attention.

He hit a perfect serve towards his sister who jumped to the left with a shriek as the powerful serve almost hit her in the arm.

“Hey!” She shrieked again, “I wasn’t ready.”

“Farleigh?” Felix turned towards the umpire for his decision.

“Huh?” He said lowering the bottle from his lips again, “It stays in.” He quickly decided instead of letting on he wasn’t fully paying attention.

“What!??” Both you and Venetia cried as Oliver and Felix cheered and high fived each other and took another drink.

“Fine.” You huffed, hoisting up your skirt and marching towards the ball that had rolled to the edge of the court, nestled into the surrounding fence.

They were still laughing, joking and drinking when you got back into position and took your own rapid serve, hoping to catch them equally off guard. Apparently you had no such luck as Felix sent the ball straight back. It hit the ground right in front of your feet and you stumbled back as you avoided it hitting you in the face. As you stumbled back, your feet got caught on one another and you fell hard on your bum and when you relaxed into the embarrassing moment, letting your whole body just flop on the floor, your head hit the ground a little more harder than you’d intended. Everyone hissed and cringed as you allowed yourself to play victim to the floor.

“You alright?” Felix said, rushing to your side.

You lifted your hands to cover your eyes, worried you’d cry and not wanting them to see or accuse you of being silly. It was just a silly tumble after all. But it was the shock and bruise to your pride that had you feeling teary.

You grunted as you felt Felix’s arm move carefully around your back to try and lift you up into a sitting position and you reluctantly let him. When his hands reached for your hands to pull them away from your face, you let him do that too.

He raised his hand, “How many fingers am I holding up.”

You scowled, it had been a little tumble and bump to the head, was he really going to check you for concussion. “Are you serious?!” You snapped, even more embarrassed as the others gathered around the two of you, the game and their drinking firmly on hold until they knew you were okay.

“Yes, I’m serious.” Felix said, waving his fingers in your face again.

“Fix.” You tried to argue.

“Just answer the question.”

“Three. Fucking Jesus. Three.”

“Yeah, she’s fine.” Farliegh joked. Felix just shot him a glare.

“Maybe we should call it a break for the evening?” Felix suggested.

“What and let you guys win before we’ve even had a chance?” You said, pushing Felix away, feeling for your racket on the floor and getting to your feet. “Nice try fix. But it’s gonna take more than just a bump on my ass to stop me from beating you boys.”

“Yeah!” Venetia agreed, stepping to you and offering you a high five.

“Fine, on your head be it.” Felix said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.4

Hii guyss, I'm so happy that Franco and Ollie were able to win some points today :) If you've missed part 3 here it is.

- Austrian Grand Prix 2023 -

The days leading up to Sunday are a whirlwind of activity at the Austrian Grand Prix. Although you don't get to see Franco or Oliver in person, you and Franco haven't stopped messaging each other. Every free moment you get, your phone buzzes with a new text from him. Each message is friendlier, funnier, and sometimes even a little flirty, making your heart race with excitement.

The playful banter continues over the next few days, filled with inside jokes, teasing, and a growing connection that feels deeper with every exchange. You find yourself smiling whenever you see his name pop up on your screen, your stomach fluttering with anticipation each time.

By Sunday morning, the excitement in the air is palpable. It's race day, and the paddock is alive with energy. You make your way to the F2 and F3 paddock, eager to wish Franco good luck before his race. As you approach his garage, you see him standing with a few of his team members, going over last-minute strategies.

Spotting you, Franco's face lights up, and he quickly excuses himself, making his way over to you. "Y/N!" he exclaims, looking genuinely happy to see you. "You made it!" "Of course," you say with a smile. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." He grins, his eyes twinkling with that familiar playful glint. "I'm glad. I need all the luck I can get." You roll your eyes, laughing. "Like you need luck. You're going to do amazing, I just know it." Franco steps closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot to have you here. Really." You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at the sincerity in his voice. "I'm happy to be here," you say softly. "And I'll be cheering for you the whole time." A mischievous smile tugs at Franco's lips. "Just cheering? Not throwing roses onto the track when I win?" You laugh, shaking your head. "No promises. But I might consider it." He chuckles, reaching out to lightly touch your arm. "I'll hold you to that."

The two of you stand there for a moment, the noise and chaos of the paddock fading into the background. You can feel the warmth of his hand on your arm, the closeness of him sending your heart racing.

"Well, I should let you get back to your team," you say, reluctantly stepping back. "Don't want to distract you too much." "Too late for that," Franco teases, his smile widening. "But seriously, thank you for coming by. It really does mean a lot." You nod, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Good luck, Franco. You're going to do great."

Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean in and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. It's a small gesture, but the moment your lips touch his skin, you feel a spark of something electric pass between you. Franco's eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks flushing a deep red. For a split second, he looks almost stunned, and then a slow, delighted grin spreads across his face. "I think that's the best good luck charm I've ever gotten," he says, looking at you with a new intensity. You laugh, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Just win the race, Franco." "I'll do my best," he promises, his gaze still locked on yours. "Especially now that I have something to win for." You give him one last smile before turning to leave, your heart pounding in your chest.

You head to the paddock to watch the F3 race. The atmosphere is electric, with engines roaring and fans cheering. You find a good spot, eager to see how Franco will perform.

The race is intense, and you watch Franco skillfully navigate the track. He pushes hard, climbing up the positions, but ultimately finishes fourth, just shy of a podium. You feel a mix of pride and a bit of disappointment for him, knowing he gave it his all.

As the F3 cars leave the track, you decide to stick around and watch the F2 race. You're waiting near the paddock, lost in thought about Franco's performance when you spot Oliver walking toward you. He's in his racing gear, looking focused but cheerful.

"Y/N!" Oliver calls out, smiling as he approaches. "Didn't expect to see you here." "Hey, Oliver!" you reply, matching his smile. "I was just watching the F3 race. Franco did pretty well." Oliver's expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he quickly recovers. "Yeah, I heard it was a good race," he says with a polite nod. "How do you know Franco?" "Oh, we met in the paddock in Barcelona," you explain, keeping your tone casual. "We've kept in touch since then." Oliver raises an eyebrow, curious. "So, are you two friends?" You hesitate, not entirely sure how to define your relationship with Franco. "I guess… yeah, we're friends," you say, though the uncertainty in your voice is hard to miss. "Or something like that." Oliver smiles, sensing your hesitation. "Sounds complicated," he teases gently, his tone light. You laugh softly, relieved by his playful approach. "Maybe a little." "Well, I'm glad you're here," Oliver says sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. "It's nice to have someone rooting for me." "Of course," you reply, feeling your cheeks warm. "I'm sure you'll do great out there." Oliver's smile widens, his eyes brightening. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot." He glances back at his team, who are busy preparing for the race. "I should probably get ready, but I'll see you after?" "Yeah, I'll be here," you promise, giving him an encouraging smile. "Good luck, Oliver." "Thanks," he says, flashing you one last grin before heading back to his team.

As you watch him walk away, Oliver's question lingers in your mind. Are you just friends? You can't help but wonder where you truly stand with both Franco and Oliver. Is this the beginning of a friendship with each of them, or is there something more beneath the surface? The uncertainty leaves you questioning your feelings and what this weekend might reveal.

Here's part 5

[manicpixiefelix]

*crashes my imaginary car into your inbox*

OLLIE WHO WAS ADOPTED BY READER'S FAMILY!!!!!

I know this is a major shift in established dynamics but hear me out!!!

What if Oliver's tales about his home life were actually true, worse even so he ended up an orphan? He gets adopted by Reader's parents for the optics mainly because it makes them look good and they figure it'll provide their heir with a companion.

So they become this peculiar little duo, both very observant of the world and people around them. Ollie is a stranger to this world of the ultra rich and endures etiquette classes.

Oliver Quick becomes Oliver L/N, the boy uplifted from squalor by the heroic family *eye roll*

Reader is fiercely protective of their brother and will ruin anyone that insinuates he's not ~really~ family

I know we've never really discussed the ancestral home of Reader but I imagine it is every bit as grand and impressive as Saltburn. Ollie's favorite room is definitely the massive library.

BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS A LOT OF COURSE I LOVE HOW YOUR MIND WORKS!!!!

Of course your parents love the optics of it all.

You're six when they adopt Oliver, and he's five; this mousy little thing who doesn't smile often and barely speaks and can't look you in the eyes. He shys away from your overbearing, performative parents, but you seem to be able to see how overwhelmed he's getting. There's no words in your first interaction, only gestures, taking and keeping Oliver's focus as best you can to ground him in the moment; you teach him a simple game, and he returns the favour. Not a word between you two. By the end of the visit, you realise the adults have gone quiet; your parents and Oliver's case worker are just watching you both, marvelling. As you're looking away, Oliver himself finally steps towards you, taking your hand carefully and half hiding himself from them behind you, as if already deciding to trust you. You and Oliver had begun the day as strangers, and ended as siblings.

Your parents love to tell anyone who will listen about how when you first met Oliver you 'practically fixed yourself to his side and haven't moved since'. You look like the perfect family in photos, and the press is quick to forget how little research your parents did on the last charity they very publicly supported, and it's less than ideal history. Oliver learns to smile on command the way you feel like you've always known, but at least they don't make the two of you seperate in these moments.

Oliver says your house is like a fairy tale. At first he sticks close by you, overwhelmed by it all, but as the days turn to weeks and then months, you start to lose him as he goes exploring amongst the estate's many rooms and corridors. No-one knows the old house better then you, but Oliver is a close second; Nan says Mother used to scurry around just like you did, used to know every trick the old house had, but that was a lifetime ago.

Mother's study locks from the inside and Father works long hours in the city, so it's up to you to help Oliver settle in with the nannys and the tutors and the rest of the staff. Your parents like to buck tradition, so they're not precious enough to hire anyone to teach Oliver the etiquette that usually comes with wealth and a house like this, so long as he was polite and respectful and sweet faced in public, they couldn't care less which fork he used for salad. Honestly adults at events found his lack of grace and understanding of their unspoken rules charming in its sincerity. You, however, know that their condescending adoration grates on your brother's nerves as they talk to him like he was some kind of pet.

On the weekends Nan comes over, and it's clear that Oliver likes her the best of all the adults in your lives. Like you she doesn't pressure him to talk, always taking his silence in stride, but also taking the time and putting in the effort to understand him when he does try and communicate, however that may be.

In public - not that you're in public a lot - you and Oliver tend to cling to each other. As you grow older, even as you stop physically holding on to each other, you barely seem to stray from each other's shadow. Of the two of you, Oliver still is the far more reserved one, happy to let you do the talking most of the time, often only sharing his thoughts as quiet asides to you alone.

Considering your parents had no choice but to publicly acknowledge you in this universe, you and Oliver very much grow up in the public eye. The strange, observant duo who seemed to have the uncanny ability to wrap rooms full of adults, the upper echelons of society, around their little fingers, grow into beautiful and bitchy socialites.

Considering you're both getting privately tutored instead of going to a proper school, most of your time is spent travelling and attending events. Following the various Fashion Weeks around the world is a yearly tradition since you were teens, you go to concerts and film festivals and galas, always together, always inseperable. Or at least, inseperable when being seen by people who might matter. Oliver's confidence grows, he's far more open and even talkative in public than when he was a kid, but there's comfort in your established dynamic too. It returns most often at formal events, with Oliver half a step behind you, murmuring his commentary and amusing aside to you throughout the night.

A few of the independent tabloids your family didn't own print unsavoury rumours about your closeness, but those get pulled from news stands within the day, and a few threats of defamation lawsuits make them think twice before printing those kinds of articles again.

Everyone in the Western world knows who you both are, or has at least heard of you. But thankfully it's been years since anyone had tried to tie Oliver back to the Poor Orphan Boy he was when he'd first been adopted. By the time you both get to Oxford, he's been your brother for so long that it's like the world has thankfully forgotten that it's not by blood.

[toasttt11]

chocolate chip pancakes

August 29, 2022

Rutger walked out of his dorm room down the hallway and knocked on the last door, leaning on the wall next to the door.

Lex looked up from her phone at the knock, “Come in!” She watched as the door opened and Rutger peaked his head in before walking in and flopping down next to her onto her bed, “Hello Rut.”

“Hi Ollie.” Rutger grinned at his long time crush best friend, “Wanna go get something to eat?” Rutger having decided to slowly start giving Lex hints and maybe be able to finally ask her out.

Lex nodded her head shutting off her head, “Sure any of the boys coming with?” Lex leaned up from her bed, getting up grabbing her Birkenstocks sliding them on real quick, tucking her wallet into her jean shorts and fixing her Umich cropped zip up.

Rutger face fell in disappointment before quickly covering it with a smile, “Thought it could just be me and you?” His eyes looks hopeful at her.

Lex turned around looking at Rutger who seemed a bit off, “Sure Rut, that sounds nice.”

Rutger lit up with an even brighter smile, “Great!” Lex furrowed her eyebrows towards one of her best friends, “I mean cool.” Rutger mentally facepalmed himself for acting so werid.

“Alright buddy let’s go?” Lex asked.

“Yeah.” Rutger nodded quickly getting off her bed and heading to the door with Lex following and shutting the door behind them, they headed down the two flight of stairs and seeing the empty down stairs before heading out of the house to the parking lot closet and hoping into Rutgers car.

“So where are we going?” Lex finally broke the silence in the car, as she connected her phone to his car and played their playlist.

“I found a diner like ten minutes from school and it looks really good.” Rutger casually replied, acting like he didn’t spend a while trying to find a place to take Lex.

“Awesome.” Lex nodded skipping a song before turning her head an opening the window and feeling the cool summer breeze.

Rutger stopped at the red light turing his head looking at his best friend, the same best friend he’s had a crush on for years and never said anything, he shook his head before continuing the drive.

Rutger pulled up to the diner pulling into the parking spot, He jumped out of the car and quickly walked around opening the passenger door for Lex.

Lex looked at her best friend who’s been acting weird, “Thanks Rut.” Rutger smiled as Lex got out of car and shut the door behind her. They walked up the front steps before Rutger opened the door letting Lex walk in.

The server led them to a corner booth by the windows, Lex slide into the bench and Rutger slid into the bench across from her.

Lex excitedly gasped as she was reading the menu, Rutger looked up at her, “What?”

“They have hot chocolate!” Lex grinned widely, her favorite thing to drink has always been hot chocolate, it might also have to do with the fact she is obsessed with chocolate.

“Do they?” Rutger softly asked already knowing that they do, having looked at the menu before they came to make sure they had hot chocolate and chocolate chip pancakes knowing Lex hasn’t found a place yet in Michigan that has both.

Lex rapidly nodded looking ecstatic before gasping again, “Oh my god. They have chocolate chip pancakes too!” Lex leaned across the table as she spoke in a happy whisper before looking back down at the menu.

Rutger just smiled admiring her, no longer that worried if she catches him admiring her. He must of been admiring her for a few minutes before the waitress was already at the table and writing down Lex’s order down, Lex called out Rutger’s name gaining his attention, “Rut what do you want?” She smiled at her best friend.

“Ah i’ll take what she’s having.” Rutger smiled handing the menu he barely even looked at the waitress, who nodded and walked off.

“Are you okay Rut?” Lex looked at him in concern.

“Yeah of course.” Rutger shook his head with a fond smile, “How was your date?” Rutger questioned through a tight smile.

Lex scrunched up her nose shaking her head, “Bad, he was a dick.” Lex had met someone during the summer and planned a date but he was disgusting.

Rutger tired to hide his delighted smile, “I’m sorry Ollie.”

“Ehh, it’s no big deal it was just a date i wasn’t that interested anyways.” Lex shook off his apology before continuing to chat with her best as they waited for their food.

Lex took a sip of her hot chocolate happily humming at the taste, she looked up seeing Rutger softly smiling at her, “What?”

Rutger shook his head softly before reaching over and gently whipping of the whip cream on her lip, “You had a little something.” Rutger sheepishly smiled noticing the look she gave him.

Lex followed his finger with a daze before shaking her head ignoring the thoughts that just came into her head and her pounding heart.

“Thanks.” Lex smiled taking another sip of her hot chocolate. Rutger smiled nodding back drinking his hot chocolate.

Lex quickly cut up her pancake the second it was placed on the table and made a happy sound as she took the first bit of the chocolate chip pancakes, she quickly chewed her bite, “Rut we are going to be coming back.” Lex gently demanded before chewing another bite.

Rutger took a bite of the pancake and nodded, “Hell yeah these are good.” Rutger wasn’t lying they are some of the best pancakes he’s had but he wants to keep coming back with Lex.

[leafs-lover]

y/n and Freddie in btpdg is one of my favorite couples to ready about. have you thought of doing a blurb or something where Freddie comes home from a roadie and wakes y/n up in a ✨spicy✨ way? like, maybe when ollie was a baby because sleep is precious when they have 4 little monsters.

Series Masterlist

This is set before YN and Fred have had conversations about getting together but it’s painfully obvious they both want it so like figure it out already? You also don’t have to have read the entire fic to make sense of it, this is a stand alone piece

Warnings: swearing, smut (fingering and p in v), a slight dominance link, I didn’t proofread or edit so if you see any spelling/ grammar mistakes keep them to yourself

Fred’s least favourite thing was leaving.

Ollie learned what the duffle bag meant and would whine every time he saw it, you of course knew what it meant and would also whine about it. Only difference was he could reason with you. He’d always promise you a date once he returned and you’d always prop yourself on your tippy toes, wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face down, growling “why wait?”

Oliver was walking and talking, a handful with every step, leave him alone for more than a minute and every toy was thrown across the living room, or he would have the pantry open tossing boxes onto the floor. He kept you on your toes and you both felt uneasy leaving him even if only for a few minutes. So you would wait, but that doesn’t mean you’d make it easy on him. You would constantly send pictures, snapchats, answering his FaceTimes while wearing practically nothing. You knew exactly what you were doing and it drove him crazy.

Typically the Pens would fly the team back early in the morning after a road trip and since giving Fred a key you tended to wake up and find the living room full of laughter, Oliver wearing only a diaper as he terrorized the couch cushions.

This particular road trip ended in Philly and it was a very quick flight home. The team ventured back to Pittsburgh after the game and Fred set out for your apartment. He made good time, it was near midnight and the roads were empty.

Not a single light was on, not even the blue glow from a TV to alert him to your presence. It’s quiet, but not an eery quiet, it’s peaceful.

Fred drops his bag by the door and sets his keys in the bowl. His jacket is left on the rack and he starts to unbutton his dress shirt as he walks down the dark hallway. He stops at Oliver’s room and half expects the crib to be empty meaning a night with a sprawling toddler who kicks him seventeen times in the ribcage, but as the light from the hall filters in Fred catches a glimpse of the red locks on his tiny body. Like every night he spends with Oliver, Fred walks over to the side of the crib and takes a second to just watch his son. There is something about watching a baby sleep perfectly and peacefully that makes his heart swell - he doesn’t know how he went this long without it. He gently whispers goodnight and places a kiss to his cheek, then leaves the door as he found it - open a crack - before venturing toward you.

There is a copy of The Whispers cracked open on the mattress beside you, a cup of cold herbal tea lingers on the bedside table. The blankets are down low past your hips and one leg is kicked out - evidence you got hot at some point - your perky nipples protrude through the thin white cotton shirt you wore to sleep. The desire for baby number two throbs in his pants, if only that topic wouldn’t send you running Fred could bring it up.

He throws his pants over a chair, folds his shirt and places it on the seat and slips out of his socks. He grabs your “bookmark” from the night stand and lets his finger trace over the worn edges for a moment. It’s not an actual bookmark, but a picture taken moments after Oliver was born. Fred knew you were using a picture, but Oliver was almost one before he knew what the picture was, and that was the moment he knew there was a chance you’d come back to him. Because it’s not a picture of just you and Oliver, it’s one of the three of you. Sweat clings in your hairline, trapping baby hairs to your forehead, both of you have puffy red eyes from crying with the biggest smiles imaginable plastered to your faces, only thing is Fred is staring at Oliver and you are looking up at him. Even with the emotions of that moment, he can see there is more to the look you are giving him. You’re not staring at the father of your son, you are staring at the man you love. Fred is so happy he noticed that glimmer in your eyes and decided to wait you out, because he catches you looking at him like that countless times a day (even though you won’t admit it anytime soon). Fred smiles, like he does every time he sees this photo, and sets it inside the book, then curls up beside you.

He knows he should let you sleep, you have a very energetic toddler that loves to keep you on your toes, but that shirt is just a little to see-through and a little too tight and you sent one too many messages.

He starts slow.

His hand on your stomach and lips on your jaw. It’s soft, a kiss that goes unnoticed.

His calloused hand ventures up, finding one of those perfect breasts you spent a week tormenting him with and he begins to massage it, tweaking and tugging at your nipple. A sleepy sigh catches in your throat but Fred can tell it’s going to take more.

His touch is light as his hand drops, under the elastic band of his boxers you decided to sleep in. The pressure starts off gentle, slow circles being pressed against your heat. His lips trail along your jaw, over to the sweet spot on your neck. Instead of kissing he starts to suck, harder and harder, letting his teeth sink in. When he doesn’t earn the response he desperately seeks, two fingers toy at your entrance, coating themselves in your arousal.

“Hi baby,” Fred murmurs when you finally start to stir.

“Hi,” you mumble back, involuntarily tilting your head to the side, giving him more space to work with. “I missed you.”

“I know you did.” His fingers slip inside as far as they can go. Your eyes dart open.

“Shit baby.” Your legs kick out and back arches as he thrusts his digits back inside.

“You knew what you were doing with all those pictures you sent.” He chastises, thrusting his fingers back inside once again. “Knew what it was doing to me.”

“Of course I did.” Your voice is becoming strangled, the pressure starting to build.

“Then what did you expect?”

Fred shoves his boxers down your thighs and you feel his cock, rock hard and leaking excitement all over your hip. With a few more thrusts to get you wet and ready, Fred replaces his fingers with his member, and you both moan in unison.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” He probes, shunting you up the bed with one deep thrust. “What you wanted huh?” He punctuates with another thrust.

“I always want you.” You whimper, knowing he is waiting for a response.

Your fingers tremble when they feel the hard muscles of his back. You always loved his body and he’s always loved yours. Beads of sweat cascade down your neck and Fred smiles, his second favourite thing to lick.

“Only me right?”

He doesn’t mean it as a question, at least not in this moment. There will be a time for the hard questions, a conversation where he will make you admit to what you’ve been feeling (because he has zero doubt and knows you just need a nudge). This question is more about dominance, a reminder, because him practically prodding your cervix doesn’t do that.

“As if there could be anyone else.”

Fred hooks your left leg over his hip and finally brings his lips to yours. His mustache tickles your upper lip and his tongue works its way into your mouth. It’s sloppy, frantic, full of heat. Every time he presses his tongue in further your nails scratch along his back. And after every firm and direct thrust hits that spot deep inside, your moan gets caught in his mouth.

“You look so good with my cock inside you.” Fred grunts, punctuating his words with another thrust.

“You feel so good inside me.”

“Gonna feel even better with my cum dripping out of you.” Fred smirks as one hand snakes between your bodies and rubs at your clit. It suddenly becomes very difficult to concentrate on what he is saying. You can see his lips moving and can only imagine the filth spewing out.

You writhe beneath him as your pleasure reaches it’s peak. Your nails dig deep into the thickest part of his bicep and with one more punctuated thurst you come undone, warmth spilling around his cock. Fred’s cocky grin only grows even as his thrusts are sloppy and shallow, and just as your body relaxes Fred spills everything deep inside your cunt.

It takes a bit for your hearts to steady, it always does, Fred’s version of a “quickie” often leaves you feeling like you ran 5k.

Fred looks down at you, brown eyes clouded with lust and passion and leans back in, replacing the heated and heavy kisses with a soft one, full of warmth.

“Elskede.” He smiles sweetly, his cock soft inside you.

“Hmm.”

“Tease me like that again and I won’t wake you up as nicely next time.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you shrug him off, a hint of insolence in your voice. His cock twitches. You being bratty always did turn him on.

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