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agroteraa · 8 months

Text

Artemis

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.

Word Count: 5,5K

After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.

So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...

You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.

"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.

"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."

"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.

When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.

"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."

"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.

You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?

That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.

You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.

Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.

It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...

... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.

* * *

"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.

"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."

"Why aren't you with them too?"

"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.

"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."

At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.

He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.

"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.

Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.

After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.

"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.

"Hello!-" you started.

"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?

You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.

"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.

"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."

"Yeah, that’s great..."

"And how was yours?"

"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."

"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."

You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.

The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.

But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.

"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."

With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.

At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.

But no.

You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.

His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.

The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.

"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.

You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.

After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.

*Knock-knock*

"Oliver!"

The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.

"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.

You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.

He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.

He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.

The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.

His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.

Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.

He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.

He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.

"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."

You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.

Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.

Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.

* * *

Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.

But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.

Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.

The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?

The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.

"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."

Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.

Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.

"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.

"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.

"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.

"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.

The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:

Baby, can't you see I'm calling?

A guy like you should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm falling

There's no escape, I can't wait

I need a hit, baby, give me it

You're dangerous, I'm loving it

You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.

Too high, can't come down

Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic?

He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.

It's getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil's cup

Slowly, it's taking over me

What a confession. Or was it a call?

You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now

Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.

Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.

The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.

You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.

"Oliver!"

He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.

"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"

"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."

You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.

It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.

"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.

"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"

Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"

You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.

Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.

"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.

At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.

Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.

His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.

You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.

"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.

He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.

"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."

"My sweet Y/N..."

Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.

"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."

Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.

"Gods, Y/N, you��re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.

“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.

You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.

You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.

You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.

You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.

"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.

"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."

Oliver chuckled softly.

"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."

Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.

"Yes, I guess, it is."

The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.

He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.

The fun continued. The hunt was a success.

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nutteu · 6 months

Text

Gold-digger Oliver

[rambling compilation]

inspired by that one post about oliver fucking every catton available except for felix (still can't stop laughing about it, will find the post later) (EDIT, I FOUND THE POST: HERE). but here we go:

What if, Oliver was a gold-digger, and what if this wasn't his first rodeo? Like, he had done this before and that was why it was easy for him to understand the whims of the wealthy, the filthy rich, because he had experienced how it felt like being an arm candy for some elder man, hiding this from his parents and accumulating wealth and properties he had gotten from his previous sugar daddies and mommies. Especially, he understood how bored and lonely they were, and he learned how to shape himself into something they liked, something they could play with to pass time. It wasn't the first time he had ever been someone's toy, and he didn't mind the notion. Let them think that way, as long as Oliver got what he wanted.

So, with his previous knowledge, he played chess with Sir James, talked about the goddamn ceramic and artifacts scattered all over the estate; had a tea party with Elspeth and Pamela, before she left, dialed up the compliments to the nine because he knew that it would be easier to get Elspeth's attention and interest. It was easy enough, because Sir James was lonely, and Elspeth wanted to be seen and appreciated, made her feel she was still in her youth, brimming with beauty and unattainable to those who desired her.

All the while, he approached Venetia when she offered herself, pushed it further by interrogating her about what she liked, what she wanted to be; ate her out and let the blood stain his mouth, his fingers, and let the memory linger as he pushed more food onto her plate; lay his head on her chest, counting the heartbeat as she told him some complicated equations that they solved together as they giggled and teased each other. And of course, Farleigh and all the chips on his shoulders, his prickly nature which Oliver unearth with brutality and insistence; jerked him off and whispered encouragement, assurance, praises as Farleigh came on Oliver's fingers, let himself submit underneath Oliver's touch as Oliver rode him until he was spent; spending the afterglow trading cigarettes and insults, talked about rich people and how ridiculously out of touch to reality they were, Oliver teasingly offered a sliver of truth to Farleigh about his past with the rich and smiled as Farleigh gaped and laughed; waiting for the sunrise as Oliver promised him a place in the house after he got his name in the inheritance and Farleigh wouldn't need to beg with a bowl anymore.

He charmed everyone and even got Duncan softening a little at him after he offered to cook his own meals, talked about the layout and the history of Saltburn with him, be at awe for Duncan's impeccable schedule and his brutal way of wrangling problems before lunch time. Oliver befriended the maids and other helpers, memorized their names and where they came from, so they wouldn't bat an eyelash if he were to own this estate someday.

Everyone and everything was within his palms, dancing to his tune, except for Felix, who increasingly grew upset because he finally found out that Oliver not only had bedded Venetia, but Farleigh as well, and his parents were smitten by Oliver's encyclopedia of a brain and his endearing twitch of nose, the summer in his eyes. It was just a bad form, that Oliver came by his invitation, yet leaving him out of the loop Oliver had created with literally everyone in this estate but Felix.

Ah, but Felix didn't want Oliver, did he? He called him Ollie, kissed his cheek and his forehead, whined at him and took all of his attention, but he didn't want Oliver. He was just upset that everyone had gotten the attention of his toy, and none was left for him anymore. It wasn't fair, was it? That Felix was the one who brought Oliver here, yet it seemed that everyone had gotten their private time with Oliver, everyone, except for him. So, like he always did, he threw a tantrum, and Oliver sighed in exasperation and tried to fluff it up with Felix, playing into his savior complex by saying that he wouldn't have had this chance of being in Saltburn and knowing everyone if it weren't for Felix. So, really, thank you, Felix, and perhaps, we can spend some time together, yeah?

And Felix, still a little miffed but was willing to go along with Oliver's idea this time, nodded and started planning, getting all excited when he thought about bringing Oliver home, because his mum had called and she sounded sober as well! It would be a surprise for Oliver, that was for sure, and no one else had thought of it, because they only cared about themselves and not to Oliver. Felix was the only one he could call friend, the only one who cared. So, Felix told him to dress up, smiling at the sight of Oliver giggling shyly, and sang until his throat hurt as they drove by the roads.

That was, until Oliver realized where they were going, and begged him to turn back, to stop. Felix thought that maybe Oliver was afraid of reliving the traumatizing memory of his family's downfall, to face his drunken mother and the tombstone of his father. He smiled to himself and reassure Oliver that it was fine, that he'd be there with Oliver and that Oliver could lean on him, could depend on him, for the onslaught of bad memories and pain.

Until-- Felix's world collapsed into itself as Oliver curled into himself, faced with the genial and worried faces of Mr. and Mrs. Quick. Felix almost couldn't speak, his mind a tornado of questions and anger, of regret and disbelief, of rage and disappointment. They still went back to Saltburn, for the sake of the fucking birthday party, but the road to the estate was spent in excruciating silence, interjected by Oliver groveling and apologizing, and Felix stone-walling him because he couldn't think right now, couldn't think past the torrent of hurt that he felt so acutely in his chest.

He left Oliver to his own device once they arrived at Saltburn, ignoring the pang of something when they were greeted by Elspeth, and her face fell when she saw how close to tears Oliver was. How could anyone still wanted to pity Oliver, after what he had done, after the lies he had spewed out so easily to Felix? Or was it just that obvious to anyone but him, but they were too polite to tell that he was a dumbass who got manipulated so easily? Well, no more of that. Felix didn't care about Oliver anymore, everyone could take him because Felix wanted nothing to do with that wretched guy anymore.

Except that he still felt a burning rage within his chest when he saw Oliver being consoled by his parents, saw him smile shyly and hold Elspeth's hand in his, accepting the pat on the side of his face from James. What the fuck did Oliver do to make people this... malleable to him? This- this devoted? God, was Felix like them too, before he knew the truth?

He was hurt-- Oliver was his best mate, and he had lied, and it seemed like he wouldn't get retribution for his sin because everyone was too busy babying him within an inch of his life. Even Venetia and Farleigh only sighed and exchanged looks ladened with secrets as Felix told them the reason he was so agitated before the party. He had expected them to be upset in his behalf, but all Farleigh said was, "Well, it's Oliver, what can you do about it? And I don't think it's about you, Fels. Have you seen your parents with him? Even if you told them the truth, I doubt they'll kick him out of Saltburn."

The worst thing was, that it was true. Because the hours leading to the party, Oliver was stuck to Elspeth's side and occasionally glancing at him, before his gaze skittered away. Felix couldn't believe the audacity of this small, twitchy man. How dare he lied to Felix and not reap what he sow? How dare he bewitched the whole estate and had them by his side, no matter what he did? How dare he have someone else to console him and not Felix? Wasn't he his friend, the one who brought colors to his life, excitement to the dull everyday's life? Was he not the person Oliver was supposed to be faithful to, loyal to a fault? Then what the fuck was Oliver doing in Venetia's room, chuckling gently as she brushed his face with make-up? Had everyone gone crazy except for Felix?

What the fuck was happening?

The scene in the maze still happened, but instead of killing him, Oliver just closed his eyes, let the bottle fall and whispered the last 'I'm sorry' to Felix, before going back to the party, so he could tell Venetia and Farleigh to console the upset Felix. I'd like to make it that Venetia and Farleigh weren't on a witch-hunt for Oliver because, yes, they were charmed, but they also knew what Oliver really was and was entertained by his audacity in swindling Sir James and Elspeth into becoming another one of his walking wallet, making them putty underneath his hands. Of course they were worried about Felix, but really, it was so easy to see and Felix should've seen that coming, no matter how harsh and cold it seemed.

And so, Oliver wasn't kicked out from Saltburn the next morning, spending his breakfast trading stock predictions with James and ignoring Felix's burning stare in front of him. He still got the Cattons' attention and, eventually, money, even if Felix wasn't one of them. It was alright, this was something Oliver had done before, and he knew how to play it even with a few pieces gone from the board. He could still do whatever he wanted with these filthy rich people, and it was okay that Felix hated him. At least, Felix would still be here, confined within the estate and, later on, the campus, where Oliver would be there as well.

Slowly, he'd try to reconcile with Felix, because he, too, knew what Felix truly wanted. Perhaps, later on, he'd change his plan, according to the chess board, take off some figures out of the board and continuing his plan to make Felix forgive him. But not now, when he had other agenda, and he was confident that his name would be within the Cattons' will by next summer. Of that he was sure.

(No happy ending for Felix because he ought to suffer once in a while, also because I got too lazy typing this lol. Hope you enjoy!)

#shiki writes #saltburn #cattonquick #felix catton #oliver quick #ramblings #saltburn 2023 #farleigh start #venetia catton #quickstart #venetia/oliver #sir james/oliver #elspeth/oliver #all the cattons except for felix lmao

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starboybutler · 3 months

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oliver quick headcanons because i have lost control of my life

he absolutely loves to read and can smash a 300+ page book in two days tops. that summer reading list was nothing to him

he writes poems and enjoys doing book reports and character analyses. this boy has tons upon tons of notebooks stacked up in his closet

likes to paint landscapes and buildings. he painted felix once, and he still has the painting under his bed

very picky about his food and tea. hates any really mushy/runny foods and likes his tea bitter. he also wants his tea boiling hot- he won't drink it if it's lukewarm

this boy is autistic and no one will tell me otherwise. he stims by touch a lot, and he also likes to bite (his nails, pens, other people)

likes fitness only because it helps him clear his mind. he's so ripped because he'll go on runs for hours, completely lost in his head, or he'll lift weights and lose track of time.

isn't a huge fan of music, only if he's with other people. he likes classical music and rock, but he will honestly listen to anything.

he forgets to eat and drink all the fucking time. at saltburn, he would complain that he was dizzy when he and felix were by the pool, and felix would ask if he ate anything, and he'd just go "ohhhhhh. no i haven't"

has a very particular self-care routine that he does at night, starting with brushing his teeth and ending with moisturizing his face.

used to have long hair-- cut it because people kept mistaking him for a girl.

he has a ton of morbid little interests he's never been open about, like taxidermy and collecting animal bones. had animal skulls on display in his dorm at oxford, but took them down after he met felix.

tried to go to therapy for his obsessive tendencies, but ended up being obsessed with his therapist

cracks his knuckles like. every five seconds. it pisses farleigh off a lot

wanted to be a surgeon and considered medical school, but eventually settled on a literature degree.

likes to cook, and is actually decent at it. autism be damned my boy can work a grill

stopped wearing his glasses while at saltburn because of elspeth, ran into tables and pillars everyday for a week before he invested in contacts

has a soft spot for really bad horror movies, especially parodies. his fave horror movie is friday the thirteenth

has a huuuuge sweet tooth and will blow his money on ice cream if he is allowed

really insecure about his smile, mainly his teeth, so he always consciously smiles with his lips together

didn't smoke weed before he met felix, but now they get stoned together every other day

he isn't scared of a lot, but he is scared of needles and spiders (and being abandoned)

chronic insomniac. he'll stay up until about 5am reading books or smoking cigarettes while staring out of his window

neat freak x100. hates filth and mess with a burning passion. washes his hands before and after eating, brushes his teeth after every meal, never leaves his clothes thrown about. ha absolutely hates felix's room but he knows better than to try and clean it up

#he's all i think about #saltburn #oliver quick #felix catton #cattonquick

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anamoon63 · 4 months

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Shortly after Randy and Elspeth moved in together, their baby was born. It was a boy! They named him Ryan, following the Kingston family tradition, started by Roderick, of giving all male children names that start with an R.

As a bonus, l'm including this photo of Josephine, (one of Randy's daughters), and her husband Jett Atkins, with their little baby Jessica. I took this photo while testing the mod Sims Can Hand Over Babies by The Sweet Simmer, which I love because the interactions are so cute! 😊💗

#the sims 3 #sims 3 gameplay #sims 3 simblr #my current gameplay #the sims 3 late night #bridgeport #the kingstons #randy kingston #elspeth cook #josephine kingston #jett atkins #jessica kingston #ryan kingston #ts3 mods #sims 3 mods #los sims de ana #anamoon63 sims

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eizthetics0226 · 3 months

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Badass BFFs Lilith Pleasant & Elspeth Cook 💛

#lilith pleasant #elspeth cook #pleasantview #sims3pleasantview #thesims3 #sims 3 gameplay #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 #ts3 simblr

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elspethdekarios · 6 months

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Stolen Glances

It's been a little while since I've posted a fic! This is just a little fluff piece about Gale's early longing. Post-Elminster calming the orb, pre-act 2. I've been wanting to write something that takes place in the Mountain Pass camp, since it's probably my favorite place in the whole game.

Gale x Female OC fluff, early game longing

cw: Gale pondering sacrificing himself

The vista of the mountain pass was the most stunning place Gale had seen yet throughout these adventures. Whimsical and awe-inspiring as the glowing landscape of the Underdark was, the glorious valley sprawling around the Rosymorn Monastery ruins had an overwhelming sense of romance and serenity. Even after receiving Elminster's message from Mystra, Gale felt at peace for the first time in over a year. Perhaps it was the orb being quelled, or perhaps it was the view. Realistically, it was a mixture of both, but he couldn’t deny that Elspeth’s company was certainly a factor as well.

With the orb sated for the time being, he felt a little less anxious about flirting with her. She still made him nervous, of course, but it was an exciting nervousness now, like a schoolboy with a crush rather than the liable-to-literally-explode-if-I-let-myself-feel-something-for-her nervousness he was used to. The past couple of days, he let his gaze linger on her a little longer, let his imagination roam a little further than he had dared previously.��

She seemed to glow from within. Perhaps it was the excitement of being able to actually admire her beauty, or perhaps it was the setting they found themselves in. Something about the holiness of this place brought Elspeth’s already-bright light to the surface. The cleric in her stirred at the divinity of the temple ruins, he presumed. She worshipped Corellon, but with the brightness and renewal that seemed to radiate from her, it wouldn't be far-fetched to presume her a cleric of Lathander. Part of him missed being so devoted to a deity. That touch of divinity, metaphorical and physical in his case, became an anchor, a beacon to hold on to when life was turbulent. It was grounding and ethereal at the same time. To earn Mystra’s forgiveness… perhaps his soul could land somewhere among such a feeling if he obeyed her command. It was a thought that gave him a modicum of peace amidst a terrifying prospect.

He often saw Elspeth sitting out by the stream downhill from their tents. Sometimes she was kneeling in prayer, deep in a meditative state aided by their surroundings. Other times, she simply sat by the stream and stared out into the vast landscape, a hand dipped in the water, letting its gentle current flow past her fingertips. Gale couldn't help but admire the way she made time for solitude and reflection. She was quite the extrovert, and after somehow falling into the role of leader, he couldn't imagine the pressure she must feel to always act the part.

Gale had taken to his own evening reflections in this camp, often sitting on a stone bench nearby reading or watching the birds. He tried not to disturb her, but she had invited him to sit with her once before. They ate apples and he thought about how much he wanted to kiss her. To feel her skin under his palms. To feel her breath against his ear as she whispered his name. But he would be happy just to sit with her, especially here in this beautiful place.

He'd come bearing food, he decided. He wasn't cooking tonight thanks to their rations of fresh fruit, stale bread, and cheese. He grabbed a small basket and some linens to wrap the food in–who knew what that basket had seen before it was in his possession–and packed enough for the both of them before following the stream downhill.

Elspeth was facing the late afternoon sun over the enormous valley, the light golden on her skin. She looked over her shoulder as he approached.

"Hi," she said, her face softening when she saw him. "Do you need something?"

"Not at all. Just thought I'd bring you some dinner before all the best bits get taken."

"Thank you, Gale. That’s very kind," She smiled up at him and patted the ground next to her. "Join me?"

"Of course." He sat down beside her and began untying the linens holding the food.

"You know," she said. "You may be the most thoughtful man I've ever met."

A soft laugh left his lips as an involuntary blush rose in his cheeks. He was suddenly self-conscious about if he was smiling too wide, too eagerly.

"I mean it," she said as she tore off a piece of bread. "Despite the horrors of our situation, you think of my wellbeing."

"Of course I do," he said, the green of her eyes striking from the setting sun. "You're...." He cleared his throat and turned to the landscape in front of them. "I care about you. You--well, you mean a great deal to me."

There was a moment of silence before she replied.

"You mean a great deal to me, too."

They didn't speak while eating their meager dinner, instead letting the chirping birds and wind in the trees envelop them as if they were meant to be there, a part of the overgrown landscape rooted to the ground.

"Gale?" El broke the silence as she bit into a strawberry, the juice pooling between her lips, leaving them pink and glistening in the orange sunlight.

"Hm?" He was trying to look her in the eyes, but her lips and the half eaten strawberry she still held near them were making it terribly difficult.

"Please don't use the orb."

That did it. Forget the lips. Her eyes, staring straight ahead instead of looking at him, were glassy and sad. Her brow furrowed.

"I--," he stuttered, unsure of the right thing to say. In truth, he didn't want to do it. But he feared disobeying his goddess once again, and he hoped that sacrificing himself would give his sorry life meaning at the very least. But the look on Elspeth's face gave him pause and another reason to reconsider. She looked pained by the thought. She looked like she cared, truly cared. "I can't make any promises."

El turned her head away from him, but he could see her wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. "She could have helped you," she said, locking eyes with him, her gaze fierce and passionate. "She could have alleviated your pain, all this time. But she didn't, Gale. She chose to let you suffer."

Her tears were falling freely now, heavy, landing on the grass like morning dewdrops. Gale didn't know what to do, how to comfort her when the only thing that could comfort her was to forsake his goddess. But as he watched the light shimmer in Elspeth's eyes, the stain of pink still on her lips, the way she currently had one hand clutching a handful of grass as if she were ready to rip the earth itself apart--he realized that he would. He would forsake his goddess for her. He would do anything for her.

"I know devotion," she continued. "Trust me, I do. But she has no right to ask such a thing of you. Gods are forbidden from meddling in mortal affairs. Is taking petty revenge on an ex lover not a mortal affair? Is taking a mortal lover in the first place not meddling?"

Very few people in Gale’s life had left him speechless. Elspeth could now be added to that short list.

"I don't know what to say, El. It could be the only way to destroy the Absolute for good. I don’t want to do it. But I can't say for certain that I won't." Almost involuntarily, he placed his hand over hers. "No matter what happens, I want you to know how very dear you are to me. You... awoke something in me. Something that's been dormant for quite some time."

"Don't do that," she said, dropping her head. "Please."

He moved his hand away, hurt and embarrassed. His chest felt tight, his face suddenly hot.

"No, that's not what I meant," El said, grabbing his hand before he could place it back at his side. She held it with both of her own, one gritty with dirt from clawing into the grass. "Don't tell me how much I mean to you if you intend on leaving me."

With the same quickness it dropped into his stomach, his heart soared at the touch of her cool palms pressed against his hand. He was, again, speechless. It had been so long since someone held his hand. Now that he thought about it, Mystra never held hands with him. Was she really an ex lover worth killing himself over? It wasn't just about him, though, he reminded himself. It was about the Absolute. And his sacrifice could save the lives of countless others.

But what about him? Allowing himself to be selfish for a moment, he imagined a world in which he had a future. Back home, no orb, enjoying tea with his mother and Tara. A partner waiting for him to return home for the day, greeting him with a kiss when he stepped through the front door of their tower. Someone to cook dinner with, to read in front of the fire with, to hold at night as they whispered their deepest desires and fears and to be held in return when he told them his own. He wanted that more than anything. More than Mystra’s forgiveness.

And, gods willing, he wanted that partner to be Elspeth.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered, bringing his hand up to her face, the soft skin of her lips brushing against his knuckles. It wasn't so much a kiss as it was a prayer. "I… I think I..."

She trailed off. Gale reached out his free hand, caressing her shoulder and down her arm, wondering if he was dreaming, when the sound of reckless footsteps began to invade their sweet sanctuary. The footsteps were followed by playful barking and chirping, and in an instant, Scratch and the owlbear cub were bounding down the hill towards them, their game of chase unbothered by the humans sitting on the ground. The owlbear cub ran straight in between Gale and Elspeth, knocking them apart from each other, leaving a few stray feathers in his wake, Scratch right behind him.

"Awww, look at them! They're friends!" Karlach's voice shouted from behind them as she moved closer to play with the two animals. Soon she was on the ground, being smothered with licks and beak nudges and laughing so loudly it echoed in the valley around them. When she got up, Scratch and the owlbear beckoned her to join their game of chase, and the three of them ran off towards camp.

Gale and El looked at each other again, the sun almost gone now, the intimacy of the moment gone with it.

"We should probably get ready for bed," she said, rising to her feet and dusting the grass off of her pants.

"Yes, I suppose we should" Gale replied, pushing himself up, sore knees protesting as he did. He picked up the basket and linens and walked with El up the hill in the dim twilight. The backs of their hands brushed together as they walked, and he desperately wanted to grab hers, to pull her in towards him, to grip her waist and kiss her and never let go.

They neared the camp, still obscured by a crumbling wall, and Elspeth stopped.

"Thank you for having dinner with me," she said, smiling shyly.

"Thank you for allowing me your company." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the sight of El being shy–a character trait most unusual for her. It was adorable, the way she ducked her head slightly and looked at him through her eyelashes, holding one arm with the other as she swayed slightly on her feet.

Sunset had come and gone, the mountain now shaded in hues of blue and gray. The chatter of their companions sounded distant even though they weren’t far. Gale didn’t want to be the one to walk away, to end the conversation. He’d stand here all night if she wanted him to. Then, in one swift moment, Elspeth stepped toward him on her tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek.

Every atom in his body came alive at the touch of her lips. Time was somehow going too fast and had come to a complete halt. She moved to take a step back, and Gale couldn’t resist any longer: he grabbed both sides of her face and pressed his lips to hers with an intensity he hadn’t felt in ages. She kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold him close.

As quickly as it happened, it was over.

They stared at each other, hair slightly unkempt and faces flustered. Gale could hear their names in conversations happening behind the stone wall.

Elspeth backed away with slow steps, not taking her eyes off of him.

“I meant everything,” she said. “Including that.”

Gale could only stare as she disappeared behind the wall, the faint sweetness of strawberry on his lips.

#my writing #gale #fic #gale fic #gale bg3 #bg3 fic #gale x tav #elspeth #galspeth #baldurs gate 3 fic #bg3 fluff #bg3 gale fic

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wildmelon · 2 years

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elspeth for @wooldawn’s bachelorette challenge! 🐈

⊱ she/her, cis woman, pansexual

⊱ adept spellcaster, especially of practical magic

⊱ aspiration: purveyor of potions

⊱ traits: genius, perfectionist, cat lover

⊱ skills: herbalism, gardening, medium, cross-stitch, handiness, cooking

⊱ likes: crystals, rainbows, full moons, slow dancing, berry picking

Elspeth is a quick-minded and clever witch who constantly experiments with potions and alchemy. Slightly spacey, she’s easily fascinated by the world around her and often slips into rapt reveries. When she isn’t engrossed by a certain plant or poem, she’s cheerful and bubbly with a slight penchant for mischief. A true night owl, Elspeth loves moonlit walks and starry nights by the fire. She keeps so busy and focused on her work and gardening that her dream of sharing a little cottage with a life partner has been pushed to the side. A dedicated challenge is the perfect way to force her to pay some much-needed attention to her social and love life.

bonus pic of her cat, padlock <3 ↓

#daisy's bc #sims 4 bachelorette challenge #ts4 bachelorette challenge #ts4 edit #sims 4 edit #ts4 #sims 4 #my sims #simblr #ts4 bc entry #sims 4 bc entry #ts4 bc #sims 4 bc #sim: elspeth weaver #lush.ts4

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blueshistorysims · 7 months

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September 1922, Henford-on-Bagley, England

Before he decided to visit the smaller country house, he had it updated with modern plumbing and electricity. Walshstone Park had been built in the early 1800s for a residence of a younger son and his family, though it had been used as a dowager house. While still a rather large house, it wasn’t a castle, and the cost to run it was two-thirds less than Henford Castle.

He hadn’t told the servants yet, mostly because he felt bad about letting most of them go. He planned to give them a good severance check and reference, considering he was downsizing considerably—Walshstone Park only needed a butler, housekeeper, two maids, a cook, two kitchen maids, a footman, a valet, and lady’s maid, a measly ten compared to the several dozen that lived in Henford Castle. Byron didn’t plan on having a valet, and Stella had refused to hire a lady’s maid in England. He didn’t plan on keeping any of Thomas Walsh’s staff.

He would still own most of the land, only selling the specific part of the land where the castle grounds sat. From the money of the castle’s sale, he’d decorate it to what he liked. He’d even thought about sending a telegram to Elspeth MacGregor, though she’d likely refuse to decorate the home of a duke, related by marriage or not.

When he returned to Henford Castle, Caplan told him that the duchess had returned. He was shocked by the news, having not known when she was returning from New York.

“Why didn’t you write and say you were returning?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t plan on returning this soon.”

“Soon? It’s been three months since I last saw you.”

“I wanted to see you.”

Her words were kind, but the tone of voice was not. She sounded bored, distant. Like she came because she had to.

“...Well, I’m glad to see you.”

Even the sex was distant. She was there in body, but not in mind, and a creeping feeling began to slither into Byron’s mind: There was a reason why she was there, and it wasn’t a good one.

“Caplan told me you gave your sister the London house,” she stated afterward. It was accusatory.

“So what? It was just sitting there gathering dust. You never used it.”

“It was our house.”

“It’s not now.” He swallowed. “I’m selling the castle too. We can’t afford to keep it running on the title’s wealth. And I doubt you want to put your money into it.”

She didn’t answer.

“The smaller country house, Walshstone Park, is lovely. I’ve updated the electricity and plumbing, though the landscaping needs work. We’ll take a picnic there tomorrow.” He tried to sound gentle, but he couldn’t help the exasperation coming out of his voice.

“Why’d you give the house to your sister?” She repeated, angrier.

“Stella. It will be put to better use. Don’t be upset. I truly have missed you.”

Stella took a deep breath and frowned, looking away from him.

“I love you, darling,” he whispered, trying to smile.

She didn’t reply.

#the walshes #the walsh legacy #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 decades #sims 4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 story #sims 4 history challenge #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #1920s #ts4 1920s #tw sex mention #stella gardenhouse #byron walsh

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celandeline · 8 months

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Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (30)

It’s the distance that saves me from the nightmares. There’s thousands of miles between my apartment and Saltburn - the ghost of Felix’s body in the maze can’t get me here. I am protected by the entire Atlantic, and even then, the fear would have to sort through the whole city to find where I’m hiding. The nightmares can’t get me here.

Farleigh is different. Every night, he wakes up in a cold sweat, shaking with fear. And because I’m not used to sleeping with someone else in the bed, I wake up too. It’s become something of a ritual, to stroke his hair as he buries his face into my chest, and hold him until we both fall back asleep.

Still, other than the nightmare’s he’s adjusting just fine. He’s a quick learner when he wants to be, and as soon as I showed him how to use the French press, he started making the both of us coffee in the mornings. He’s gotten to the point where he only complains about how cramped it is once a day, and is better about watering the plants than I ever was. For all his worry about whether or not he’d be able to handle it, he’s doing just fine.

Granted, he’s not working a real job yet - but at least domestically, he’s doing great.

And, it’s been fun to show him all the pleasures of living in the city. Lottery broadway tickets, helping the neighbor boys, Vinnie and Mikey, break open a fire hydrant so that they and the rest of the neighborhood kids can splash around to beat the heat, the stray cats that wander up and down the fire escapes. The food is the best part - after eating English food for a year, I’ve missed real flavor.

Two gyros in a brown bag under my arm from the Greek deli a few blocks away, I am hurrying back home, already imagining Farleigh’s face as he tastes the magic that Mr. Andino cooks up. The traffic on the sidewalk is fast paced, and I can’t help but smile as I drift along with the tide. God it’s good to be back-

A buzzing from my pocket steals my attention, and I switch to autopilot, digging my cell out of my jeans glancing at the display on the screen, an international number. Venetia.

I quickly press my phone between my shoulder and my ear, relief flooding my system. “Hey baby.” I say. “How’ve you been? I’m so glad you called, I was getting worried, you weren’t returning my calls-”

“Evelyn?”

A voice that is decidedly not Venetia crackles through the phone speakers.

“It’s Elspeth.” She continues. “I thought that I should call…” She trails off. Even through the tinny speakers of my cell, I can tell that she’s distraught. She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong?” Panic makes its way up my throat. “What happened? Elspeth?”

Elspeth takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry to tell you over the phone, darling, but I thought it was only right that you should know. Venetia is- she’s gone.” Her voice cracks.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “What do you mean, gone? Elspeth-”

“She’s dead, darling.” Elspeth says, sounding weak. Tired. “Cut herself open in Felix’s bathtub last night. It was utterly horrid.”

My heart stops, and I stumble. A stranger walking behind me pushes me back to my feet with a grumble. I regain my footing unsteadily, and keep going. “She’s-” A lump forms in my throat. “She’s dead?”

“Unfortunately so, darling.” Elspeth says. “I thought it right that you should know, and I wanted to let you know that the funeral will be held next Sunday, if you can make it. She would have wanted you there, I think. She really did care for you, you know. You were the only friend she ever brought home for the summer…”

She prattles on, but I don’t hear her. My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks in rapid succession. She’s dead. I should have stayed. She asked me to stay. If I had stayed I could have stopped her- fuck. Fuck. She begged me to stay. She might still be alive if I had stayed-

“Evie darling?”

“Yeah?” I say, my voice cracking around the lump in my throat.

“You will come to the funeral, won’t you?”

“Of course.” I choke out.

I don’t hear whatever else she says, only the beep when the line goes dead. I tuck my cell back into my pocket, and turn the street corner, my feet leading the way home from memory. She’s gone. My mind conjures an image of her in a bathtub, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling, the water a bloody red. Gone. And I just saw her not even a week ago.

I remember meeting her at Cambridge, introducing myself since we would be sharing a bathroom. Suitemates. How fast we’d become friends after that - lounging around together in my dorm room or hers, going out to the pubs, making fun of each other when we’d heard the other bring a boy home - or a girl, in my case. How she would do my makeup before we’d go out drinking. How I’d nurse her back to health whenever she was hungover. The gentle way that she would lay her head on my shoulder, the feeling of her over-bleached hair between my fingers. All the times that I pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder, her forehead, her hand. The day in the field, where she pressed her lips to mine.

Gone.

I don’t realize that I’m home until I’m slotting my key into the lock and pushing open the door. Farleigh is lounging on my couch, leafing through one of the books from the little bookshelf in the loft. Kerouac’s On The Road. He smiles when I come in, though his face quickly changes once he meets my eyes. He’s on his feet in an instant.

He pulls the bag with our lunch inside out from under my arm and sets it on the kitchen counter. “What’s wrong?”

“V.” I say, still working around the lump in my throat. “I got a call- from Elspeth- she’s dead.” My voice fades into a whisper. “She killed herself in Felix’s bathtub. The funeral’s next Sunday.”

His smile falls. “What?”

“She’s dead.” I say, tears slipping out of the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks. “She-” I sob. “She begged me to stay-”

Farleigh shakes his head. “No, we just saw her…”

Another sob wracks through me, and I collapse into a seat at the table. I loved that girl. And when she needed me - when she asked me to stay with her, I couldn’t. I press my palms into my eyes. Can I even say that I loved her when I let her die?

I hear the other chair scrape against the floor as Farleigh sits down. I wipe away my tears to look at him. The shock on his face is the same one that he wore the morning we found Felix’s body. “She can’t be dead.”

“She asked me to stay.” I sob. “She- she begged, Farleigh, and I left anyway.”

I see reality begin to hit him as a few tears escape from the corner of his eyes. “Both of them?”

I don’t say anything. There’s nothing left to say. Felix and Venetia are both dead.

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