#venetia catton imagine

[manicpixiefelix]

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

Part 1.

Summary: It had been a long time since your world has revolved around anyone but Felix Catton. He was like that; undeniably, unassumingly magnetic. You'd watched countless fawning, fairweather friends drawn into his orbit, only to be cast out when he eventually got bored of them, but not you, never you. Maybe you were a toy in the beginning, the thing they'd all called you when they were feeling especially petty, but it became clear that Felix has wanted to keep you around. You weren't a toy, you weren't family, you were a sharp and beautiful tool, too good, too useful to be put down. Your loyalty was rewarded with a life in his shape. Felix was like the sun, and you lived your life enjoying his warmth, and wanting to keep him shining.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and implied Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: Smut (M & F Receiving (not reader)), discussions of gender set in 2003 (no slurs tho). Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog)

A/N: 3698 words. HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME!! Im so excited for this, this first chapter is essentially setting up the reader's life and dynamic with Felix and the Cattons. There's some Venetia/Reader and implied Farleigh/Reader but its the casual kind of sexuality they all share in the movie, yanno? Please let me know what you think, i LOve feedback!

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy

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You can't quite remember a time where your world didn't revolve around Felix Catton. He's rather like that; magnetic. His very aura is intoxicating, suffocating, until they're breathless and all but gasping his praises. You've seen it happen countless times since you'd first met him all those years ago.

Felix is affectionate and tactile, always yearning for contact with those around him like he has no idea how it looks from the outside. His hand around your shoulders, your waist, a kiss on your cheek, offering you a bump of coke from the back of his hand - you'd been too young when it has started for anything to seem too far when you're older. It felt only natural that you'd learned in due course the sensation of his mouth and hands on every inch of your body, just as you could name every part of him from the touch of your lips alone. Or Farleigh. Or Venetia. It was one of the many things that seemed far too normal growing up in such an insular, secluded environment. But everyone knew you were Felix's, even if he decided to share you on occasion.

Summers by the lake and Winters by the fire, Saltburn was where you found yourself when you found Felix to be your home. Months long sleepovers, and of all one hundred and seventy nine rooms, you share a bed with Felix most nights. Innocent children huddled for comfort, sharing dreams and laughter and hope for the future; adolescents turn to teenagers, and though the bed sharing continues, it does not remain so innocent.

And you are the only one to taste his hesitation the first time he ever kisses you, the only one to hear him breathless with surprised delight the first time you take his cock in your mouth since he's bored and wonders what everyone's going on about.

"What if I'm shit at it?"

"Do you want practice?"

The script is more of a formality when you're a few years into high school and both expecting to start screwing around.

Nervous, inexperienced touches easily became familiar, intimate gestures.

Its not something you talk about at school or in public, the people in your lives know you're close, but couldn't reasonably gauge the full extent beyond some schoolyard rumours... Which are technically true. But you both downplay it to most of the world. Perhaps it's about keeping up the appearance of availability; less chances to hook up with other people if they all assume you're taken.

A lot of your school life is about keeping up appearances, but that comes with the territory of being a well-to-do child of a wealthy family. At least you don't have to weather it alone.

With the amount of money your families are throwing at the schools you attend, of course you've forgotten more love showings of Shakespeare's comedies and dramas and tragedies than most students around the nation have even heard of, good only for how Felix's friend group - and you always amongst them - make fun of some of the truly awful lines.

Still, there are moments when the pretense drops. You catch each other holding reverence for the way the world speaks about love -

"You do impeach your modesty too much -" Felix is ahead of you in the maze, looking for a break from his family after Elspeth had insisted upon you all taking a trip to see A Midsummer Night's Dream in the city.

"What?" You laughed; it was getting dark, the solar fairy lights were beginning to glow amongst the imposing walls of leaves. Felix grins over his shoulder at you.

"Like in the play, remember? Near the start, Demetrius and one of the girls; you do impeach your modesty too much to leave the city and commit yourself into the hands of one that loves you not."

"Yeah but you love me, though," you laugh, and quicken your pace to catch his hand. You find yourself remembering the scene with a smile, but as the maze opens up ahead to the centre clearing, Felix slows. Pulling you close, he walks you to the wall of the maze, the strong branches and glossy leaves against your back.

"To trust the opportunity of the night, and the- the," his expression is playfully annoyed as he searches for the line.

"Something about it being deserted?" You supplied with little more than a murmur, thrill running down your spine as his body is warm, pressed against yours.

"Fuck, thanks, yeah," he breaks character for a moment with a huff of laughter, warm affection in his eyes, before that hungry, wanting look passes over him again, "to trust the opportunity of the night, and the ill counsel of a desert place with the rich worth of your virginity."

"The rich worth of my virginity?" You can't help but giggle, and Felix again breaks, if only to roll his eyes. As he pulls back, however, you wrap an arm around him, softly apologising, promising to play along. Again, he feeds you the line, and this time you lean into it, into the moment, into the intensity in his eyes. There's so much barely concealed want in his gaze, it overwhelms you, all you can think to do is kiss him.

"Your virtue is my privilege," you gasp amidst frantic kisses, wrapping your arms around him, trying desperately to remember the rest of the lines you know that you'd also been taken with in the theatre. Pulling back for just a second, you see him grinning when you take his face in your hands, "it is not night when I do see your face, therefore - something something - not night." The two of you erupt back into laughter before his mouth finds yours again, and the two of you are wrapped up in each other, blindly stumbling towards the solid statue you both know is there.

"Nor doth this wood," you find your voice again when Felix is leaning against the statue and you're making quick work of his undoing belt, "lack worlds of company, for you -" and with his belt undone, the two of you pause, taking stock of the moment. Both breathing heavily, you lean in and give him a languid kiss, your fingers looped into the waistband of his nice trousers, "for you," you murmur with a grin, lips inches from his, "in my respect, are all the world."

These are the lines that you knew without hesitation, the lines burned into your heart as you'd heard them uttered, and felt them resonate even back in the theatre. You grin, wondering if he'd wanted to hear them more than you'd longed to say them. As you kiss down his jaw, lips on his throat with intent to leave a bruising hickey, you free his cock, working your hand up and down his length.

"The how can it be said that I am alone," you kiss the hickey as it begins to bloom dark against his perfect throat, and sink to your knees before him, heart practically bursting to see the way he looks at you in this moment, all love and lust and appreciation for what you're about to do, "when all the world is here to look upon me?"

You watch others come and go from his life, watch him fuck around with other pretty elites, and had your fair share of flings too. The two of you gossip and brag to one another about your conquests, tease each other about terrible lays, or who the other has their eyes on next. There's never jealousy; as long as the other is happy, neither of you is concerned. After all, in the end, you always come back to one another.

Naturally Felix who you come out to first, the two of you sharing a smoke while playing cards by the window of his high school dorm room. Its after midnight, you should definitely be back in your own room, but the two of you have never really adhered to those rules, and the heads of your respective dorms stopped caring years ago. At the time you don't exactly have the right words to explain, but you ask him -

"Hey, you know you're a guy, right?"

He doesn't frown, but his nose gives this little scrunch as he's considering your words and his cards.

"Haven't put much thought into it, but yeah," he rearranges his cards for a moment before looking up at you with those gorgeous, brown eyes full of curiosity, "why?"

"I dunno," you shrugged briefly, as if you hadn't been struggling with for what's felt like months, "remember all those bars in France last summer?"

"Flashes of it," Felix smirks momentarily, "I'm still not sure if I believe Farleigh that he won our bet, but I suppose I'll have to trust him."

"With the amount of free drinks he was getting I'm surprised he even remembers properly," you can't help but laugh, though the moment is short-lived.

"What about it?" Felix finally prompts. For a long moment you're quiet, and the two of you finish up the round of cards.

"You know how we kept going to those underground gay bars because they didn't ask us for ID?"

"Again, vaguely."

"Some of them had these pictures on the walls of like, gays, and lesbians, and ladies with cocks, and men with tits, or big scars on their chests and bushes, and they all... They all looked really happy in those photos," as you spoke, unable to look at him, only watching his hands as he shuffled the deck. You know he's frowning, trying to follow along, but he's also not interrupting you, giving you space in what feels like an important moment, "I think I'm kind of like that."

A moment passes between you two.

"I know," Felix finally says, and you look up, surprised.

"You know?"

"We're all like that, aren't we? You, me, Farleigh, Venetia - mum keeps reminding us that she was a lesbian whenever it's even slightly relevant -" he begins to smile fondly but your surprise turns back to concern as you begin to shake your head.

"No, not like that, Fi," you sigh, and reach for the cigarette box as he begins to deal, "I don't think I fit the boy-girl thing." Once again the quiet lapses out as the lighter sparks to life. You inhale a lung full of smoke, looking out of the window to the star-filled sky, "I'm not a guy with a bush or a girl with a dick, I'm not..." You shrugged, looking at him, "I dunno what I am."

Once the cards are dealt, he finally looks at you, tips his head in that way he does when he's trying to figure something out.

"You're my best mate." He says it so simply, the faintest smile beginning to grace his lips, "you don't have to be anything if you don't want to be."

You don't realise how anxious you were about this moment until your breath comes out as a stuttering exhalation.

"Yeah?" You swallow hard, voice surprisingly weak and hopeful in the same moment, "you don't mind?"

"Kind of seems like a shit thing for me to have any strong feelings about."

"But you've known me as I am for so long -"

"Exactly; I love you, guy-girl or anything, doesn't change you," this is the moment, you realise, that you'd do absolutely anything for the boy in front of you.

"I love you too, Fi."

As he reaches across the small space for the cigarette, you lean in and kiss him before you hand it over; he's grinning as he kisses you.

It only takes a week for you to tell him about the name you'd settled on.

"I think I'm going to start going by Y/N," in the library, you, Felix, and Farleigh are getting very little work done when you bring it up.

"Changing your name?" Farleigh asks, eyebrows raised as he looks up from the same page of Heart of Darkness that he'd been reading for half an hour. You glance to Felix briefly, but he simply gives an encouraging nod to his cousin, and you, once more with your heartbeat racing, explain your relatively new identity change.

"So do we use he-she when we talk about you now?" Farleigh asks, voice genuinely confused rather than malicious. At this you give pause, you hadn't much thought about it; of course people gossiped about you, but you hadn't realised that if you were to be going forth with your new identity, you'd have to ask people to change the very language they used about you.

"I don't think so; I'm not he or she, and he-she is a bit much," you ponder, "I guess just them?"

"Hey did you hear about Y/N?" Felix stage-whispered to Farleigh, grinning. His cousin leaned in, keeping up with the bit and testing out your new name and pronouns seamlessly.

"No, what did they do?" He gasped. All you could do was chuckle, ducking your head to hide how wide you were smiling at how right it all sounded, how right it all felt to hear about yourself. With a firm nod, Farleigh sits back up, "okay, yeah, I can get with it. Y/N," he says decisively.

"Y/N does rather suit you," Felix agreed.

As you begin to come out to the rest of your friends and the school as a whole, you're surprised at how smoothly the transition occurs. You expected more resistance, more name calling, more bullying of any kind; of course there's the occasional bit of harrassment, and several people in the halls turn an unkind eye upon you, but it's been far easier than you'd expected.

Its only when you find Farleigh with a black eye that you learn that he and Felix have been getting into fights with people who've been talking shit behind your back. Of course you beg them to stop, insist they shouldn't be getting hurt on your behalf, least of all about this, but Felix smiles with a split lip.

"As if I'm going to let them get away with it."

Historically, Felix's girlfriends never seem to like you at first. Which they definitely shouldn't; it took him a few girls to remember that he shouldn't let them see him touching you so casually the way he does, more intimate with you without even thinking about it than he often was with them. It moves on, he gives them a warm smile and a teasing tone as he tells them not to be jealous-

"They're not -" a threat, you wonder as he gestures to you with a wide, open hand and smile to match, and proceeds to surprise you both, "a girl." The girl on his arm seems shocked for a minute, but everything about her eases. Your best friend, despite what people may think, is neither a liar nor an idiot. He knows what people think of him, what people assume about him and about you when they assume things one way or there other about him. The girls who he traditionally picked up liked to put him in little pigeon hole of heterosexuality, and though it wasn't true, the to correct them in instances such as that would probably harm the poor, pretty girls. Or at the very least, do nothing to quell their pretty rightful paranoia.

Because when the girl leaves his dorm before curfew that night, you slink up to his door and lean against it with the most pleased and endeared smile. As you always do.

"What?" Every time he's bashful, as if he has no idea what he's doing.

"Just love you is all, man," you tell him, grinning from ear to ear as you close the door behind you.

"Love you too, you know that," he tries to play it off, but is obviously hiding his ever-growing smile.

As you descend upon him, sitting cross legged on the bed - "I love you, I love you, I love you, Fi," peppering his face with kisses as he actually giggles and laughs and pulls you close - you wonder if you shouldn't be doing this since he has a new girlfriend. Except if he wanted you to stop, you knew he had no qualms asking you to.

He's always been the best about your identity, so you're not sure why it always hits you with a rush of euphoria when you hear him talk about you like that. Maybe it's the way confirms exactly what you're not to the world, while knowing that everything you are to him is a secret he holds precious and close to his heart.

When you get to Saltburn for the Winter, as you had for any major breaks from school as your parents were thrilled to be seeing as little of you as necessary, Duncan greets you at the door as he always does -

"Captain Y/N."

And Felix comes bounding down the red stairs, having overheard, and asking if Captain was alright, while you were overwhelmed with love at the gesture. Apparently Duncan's only reservation about the title was that it was usually reserved for military personnel, and he was something of a stickler for the rules. Still, when you thank him for referring to you as such, he grants you one of his rare smiles.

Everyone has accepted the change before you'd even arrived, and though his mother and father did occasionally slip up, they caught themselves before even yourself or Felix had a chance to correct them. Elspeth always made a show of apologising and correcting herself. After one such instance, all of you wine-drunk after dinner and squashed on several sofas together to watch some rom-com, Venetia whispers to you where she's in your lap that Felix had spent several phone calls over the past semester explaining the situation to the family, even making sure to remind everyone in the days before you'd arrives.

"He really does love you," she murmurs, "doesn't he?" The glow of the television haloed her recently bleached hair in light as her face hovered inches for yours. Out of the corner of your eye you see Felix wearing an amused smile and pointedly not looking at you. When Venetia leans in, giggling with her pupils blown wide, you kiss her back, and feel Felix put a hand on your thigh.

"Not during the movie," Elspeth says briskly. Farleigh snorts with amusement from her other side and Venetia breaks the kiss with a sharp little laugh. Still, she curls up against you now, with your arm around her, and Felix rubs circles against your thigh, hand not moving for the remainder of the film.

At Saltburn, your room was often more of a formality; the one attached to Felix's, divided only by a bathroom. Most nights were shared in another's bed, even if nothing sexual happened. Venetia especially liked these sleepover, liked how you'd be at her door if she merely implied she wanted your company. She'd invite you into her bathroom to simply talk while she bathed, neither of you bothered by the casual nudity. She'd put on a CD and sometimes a robe, and you'd brush and braid her hair; she'd talk and you'd listen, until she fell asleep in your arms. Venetia craved connection, and like with Felix, you were happy to oblige her.

"You're a good dog," she'd once murmured, your head between her thighs, "that's why he lets you fuck me." When you look up at her through your lashes, mouth still on her cunt, tounge going still on her clit, she's looking back, devilish smile on her face, "do you think about him when you fuck me?"

You lean back just a little, and carefully slide two fingers into her; Venetia's head falls back as she sighs gently.

"He doesn't have a cunt, Ven," you tell her bluntly, which of course makes her laugh until she's moaning with your fingers curling inside of her.

"Good dog," she stutters out.

"He wants you to be happy, and I can do that."

"My brother doesn't like sharing his toys," she whimpers faintly.

"I'm not a toy."

"Suppose I'll just - ah~" your thumb finds her clit, and you gently bite at her thigh, "have to enjoy you while he lets me, then."

In these quiet, intimate moments, sexual or not, Farleigh and Venetia both take to calling you 'good dog' as a term of endearment. Anyone else would probably be put off by it, but it begins to warm something in your chest; loyal and loving, the kind of creature you keep around. Felix, however, scowls when he learns about it.

"It's mean."

"I think it's sweet," you tell him with a smile, curling up against him on a sofa on one of the many balconies. Felix had been reading while you'd been napping against him when Venetia had appeared and cooed at the sight.

"They think it's sweet!" Venetia echoed with a pleased grin, sitting on the lounge chair across from you both.

"They're not a dog, they're my friend -" Felix had tried to argue.

"Man's best friend," Venetia had nodded.

"Oh piss off, Ven," Felix had huffed. Venetia had obligingly swanned back into the house while you stifled your laughter against his chest. When it's just the two of you, his voice turns soft, "you know I don't think of you like that."

"It's nothing, Fi, everyone knows you're my favourite is all."

"But you're not a dog."

You look up at him in all his glory, golden in the sunset and looking like a dream. You want to smooth the concern, the righteous anger from his brow, kiss the faint downturned edge of his perfect lips, do everything in your power to make sure he never worries again. No matter who or what you are, you are his. His best friend, his confidant, his shoulder to cry on, his partner in crime, his right hand, his, his, his.

All you can give him in this moment is your gentle voice full of absolute love;

"What do you want me to be, Fi?"

[ghostgirl101]

Oliver Quick Being Obsessed With You Would Include...

A/N: Watched this recently and got too many ideas because it's what I do 😀 if you've got any requests for the Saltburn crew then drop them in my inbox and I'll get round to them. Have fun reading- just know that there are obviously spoilers for the Saltburn movie here, so if you haven't watched it, zip to the cinema and come back 😎 or don't.

☓• It's hard to know where to start with Oliver... all I can say is that once you're in his sights, you're never getting out of them. Big never. Even if he has to wait years to get what he wants, he'll wait, and he will get it. And of course, the it we're talking about here is lucky you. So lucky you 🙃

☓• Say goodbye to your close friends and possibly your family if they're taking up too much of your time or happen to see through his harmless, quiet, normal act to something a lot darker and obsessive tainting his pure blue eyes every time they latch onto you. No one's managed to get in his way yet, and it stays that way.

☓• The first unknowing encounter with Oliver must have been somewhere around Oxford Uni, where you all go to and study. Maybe in the library, outside talking to friends - doing practically anything and making it look amazing and beautiful and something to be wanted above anything. He watches you a lot, a lot a lot, before you bump into each other, because the meeting has to be perfectly natural and it's his only chance to start things off on the right foot.

☓• Coincidences happen a lot and no one can be called out on them, because nothing seems to be wrong yet. You'll end up spending the majority of your time with him, maybe even without realising, whilst he finds out ways to know more about you and get closer to you. Oliver's not so good when it comes to talking about himself, telling you with one of his awkward but earnest half-smiles that he's not half as interesting, and so the conversation ends up steering back to you. From family life to friends, growing up, hobbies, favourite colour, tell him anything and everything. Because he won't forget a single thing.

☓• He's easy with where you want to go to hang out too, so long as he's there. You could just be talking with your friends in the nearby pub or at a party where the invite was extended to him as he's with you, or studying together at the library. Ignore the weird looks from Michael.

☓• But what Oliver prefers above all that is just being together and alone, maybe in your dorm room, or just out somewhere at a park or at the bridge, sitting and talking, opening yourself up more and more to him. This boy is an incredible listener. If your voice trails off when you become self-conscious of how much you're rambling, all you'll get in response is Oliver blinking out of his trance and giving you a calm smile and a shrug. "No, it's fine, I don't mind. Carry on."

☓• Number one supporter, naturally. Oliver tries to be the best friend and more, so hard, with you. He'll be anything you want and need him to be without you even having to mention it. Whatever club or team you're on, he'll give you a little wave and small grin from the sidelines... take a few pictures when you're not looking. For safekeeping.

☓• It can get more than a little frustrating for him when you're distracted by your other 'friends' at Oxford, even if it's something as small as looking over essay answers and revision notes with Farleigh. There's always a back-and-forth thing happening between those two, and so when Farleigh starts becoming friendly with you and outrightly mocking with Oliver, to you, all that will happen is Oliver giving him an unblinking, blank look that looks a touch too cold and repressive, before he ignores him. And that's all you'll ever know about it.

☓• If you happen to stick up for Oliver when someone brings up how different and odd he is, a bit awkward to talk to and a cheapskate or whatever, he'll never get over it. You stuck up for him. That just proves that he was right about you, from the second his dark gaze latched onto your unknowing self just a few weeks ago. He was right. You're... perfect.

☓• There's so much good about Oliver, that if you ever hear anything different, it's hard to actually believe it. It's just Farleigh causing trouble, or gossip that has gotten out of hand again, not actual hints of something deeper bubbling beneath the surface. Oliver would never watch you outside your dorm room at night, what are they on about? And when Oliver hears of them too, or gets the worries out of you when he instantly notices that something's up, he'll act as effortlessly, convincingly confused as you are. If there's the slightest bit of proof in the accusation, he'll cover it up with a flawless explanation that swerves away from him and onto someone else within a second, while still seeming without grudges towards anyone. "You shouldn't listen to them, they're just trying to get in your head. Or maybe they want you for themself or something. I mean, I can understand that. Completely."

☓• You will eventually notice just how clingy Oliver can get when he seems to be everywhere around you, and you might be looking for a moment to yourself. If you gently bring it up, he'll reluctantly go on the promise that you'll text him back, which gives him time to change tactics. He will go as far as saying someone in his family died, or as small as admitting that the isolation from everyone who is so different to him in this place makes him feel a bit broken up. Maybe he should leave? And you, being you, encourage him to stay on and hang out with you and your friends, and boom, his back in.

☓• It's so easy for Oliver to subtly manipulate his surroundings and its people. Everyone, except for you. With you, the manipulation comes in seemingly natural events, nothing too forward. Because what he likes the most is you coming to him with whatever, problems, thoughts, feelings. Then he's done his job, and everything else that will build up a beautiful, beautiful relationship, will slip into place for him.

☓• Again, everything has to be perfect, and it will be. Maybe your first kiss with him is on your birthday, or out somewhere nice as a treat with some other rich friends. Or it's just you two having a movie marathon or pulling an all-nighter. Every time, he'll inch closer with little sweet, honest lines spoken in a calm, low tone, his eyes locked with yours and scarcely blinking. "Do you know how loveable you are?" "I think that your smile is something to live for." "I never want to be without you."

☓• Oliver will edge closer and closer, holding hands, brushing your hair back from your face when you're reading with a tender touch, meeting your eye and not letting go until you smile in bashful amusement and look away. He'll meet you outside all your classes and bring you your favourite drinks and study notes that he got from his work, so that you never fail an exam. Oliver's a lifesaver, one of your closest friends, someone who's always there for you to be whatever you need whenever you need. A great comforter, supporter, study buddy, moral support, you name it. He created and adapted himself to be boyfriend material especially for you, and so it happens, and he's won, like he knew he did the second he saw you. Now he can be as clingy and overly affectionate and outwardly obsessive as he wants, all day, all night, tirelessly. And don't think he won't.

☓• Straight-up, he's a starer. And I mean starer when you think you're alone in your room, starer when you were with a fling or someone you might have been interested in before... before Oliver worked his magic behind the scenes. Now it's a lot easier to, when you're in a relationship, because he can pass off his staring as something romantic, which it kind of is, without the dangerous obsessiveness lacing it. You'll look up from your phone or wake up in the night to see Oliver's eyes on you in wonder and something else you can't quite place, before you smile and ask him what it is. It's always the same answer with the same soft, adoring smirk that manages to make your cheeks flush with colour and smile back. It's not 'nothing.' It's always, just, "You."

☓• Once he's got things how he wanted them, if anything tries to ruin it, they will have literal hell to pay. He did not come this far for nothing. It's an agonising process of waiting and being patient so he wouldn't scare you off, getting gradually and naturally closer to this point. So whether it's Farleigh telling his tales or playing off his tricks, or someone else pointing out the unobvious obvious, good luck to them, because one of his special coincidences will fall right onto their heads.

☓• And if, by a twisted turn of events, you walk into one of Oliver's schemes, and see flecks of his true, darker self and violent, delusional side unearthed from his usually calm and easy way, he'll beg you with racking tears and heaving breaths and literal vomit to stay. He'll do anything, just as he has been doing anything, for you. What he's saying and doing is suddenly terrifying, and whether or not you want to accept him as freely is your choice, but if not, Oliver won't go away. He'll wait some more if you manage to escape his grasp this time. See you in a few years as an adult, maybe. When you're vulnerable in different ways and water's gone under the bridge. He'll slip right back into your life like he was always meant to be there, with his earnest, devoting praise and comfort and support, and that's Oliver Quick's life come back together yet again, with you lost at its centre. Trapped.

[kaleldobrev]

Tattoos

Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader

Platonic Pairing(s): Venetia Catton & F. Reader | Farleigh Start & F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Felix Catton, Venetia Catton, Farleigh Start & Oliver Quick

Summary: Not only are you dating Felix and best friends with Venetia, the three of you have matching tattoos — something that Oliver simply cannot stand

Word Count: 967

Warnings: Voyeurism (briefly mentioned), Nudity (implied — as this takes place in the field), Unprotected sex (briefly mentioned/implied)

Authors Note: I love the little detail that Felix and Venetia have those matching star tattoos on their hands, so I came up with this little fic about how reader has matching tattoos with both Catton siblings (cause I honestly feel like that’s such a Felix and Venetia thing to do) | This is also my first ever Saltburn fic so I’m hoping that I was able to do the characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Oliver couldn’t help but stare at the small crescent moon tattoo on your ankle; the exact same crescent moon tattoo that both Felix and Venetia had — and in the exact same place — the right ankle.

He wasn’t…jealous, no that wasn’t the right word, but that was the only word that came to mind for him. He didn’t want a tattoo, was never a fan of them on himself, but, seeing you in particular with this tattoo was hitting him, hitting him harder than he’d particularly like to admit. You weren’t family — you were Venetia’s best friend and Felix’s…girlfriend. He understood the little stars that Venetia and Felix had — they were siblings and had an intense unique bond. But you…you were nobody to them less than 5 years ago. But here you here, the three of you with matching tattoos and you strutting around the estate like you were already a Catton.

He must have been staring in one direction for too long, as he heard Felix's voice calling out to him. "You alright there Ollie?" He asked, and Oliver found himself snapping out of whatever trance like state he had just been in.

“I’m f—I’m fine,” he said, trying to sound a little bit more confident than he currently felt in this moment.

When Felix spoke, not only did he turn to look at him, but you, Venetia, and Farleigh did as well. “Are you sure?” You asked, genuinely concerned about his well-being. Oh, how he despised how much you truly seemed to care.

"You've been staring off into space," Felix added. "What'ya staring at?" He asked, placing the lollipop he had been sucking on back into his mouth.

"Probably Y/N's ass," Farleigh teased, and you swatted his arm playfully; giggling briefly. Your laugh disgusted him because of how sickingly sweet it sounded.

"Farleigh, I'm sure he wasn't," you said defending him. You turned your attention to him, a soft smile on your lips. "Isn't that right Ollie?" You asked. He could barely see your face between the combination of the bright sun and your giant sunglasses that seemed to take up the entirety of your face, similarly to that of Venetia's sunglasses.

"Yeah, wasn't...staring," Ollie answered; his vocal tone sounding a tad nervous; and a little embarrassed. He wasn't looking at you, not in that way; you weren't the reason he was here, Felix was.

"I wouldn't blame ya Ollie," Felix began. "She does have a nice one," he finished, his voice almost sounding proud as he smacked your bare rear in front of the four of you.

You let out a tiny yelp; not the usual kind of moan you usually let out whenever he's heard you and Felix have sex. "Get a room you two," Venetia said, briefly glancing up from her book.

"We have a whole estate love," you winked; both you and Felix started laughing in response.

"Not when I'm still living here," she added.

"I second that," Farleigh said, chiming back into the conversation as he raised his hand in agreement with Venetia.

"Prudes," you mumbled underneath your breath, slightly teasing.

"Hey!" Venetia exclaimed. It was her turn to playfully swat you. "If anyone is the prude, it's little Ollie over there." She grinned. "Ollie, when was the last time you had sex?"

"V!" Both Felix and you exclaimed.

"What?" Venetia asked, her tone slightly clueless.

"You cannot just ask people that. It's a little rude," you stated.

"It's not rude. It's a perfectly fine question," she defended. "For example," she began, turning her attention to her brother. "Felix, when was the last time you had sex?" A smallish grin forming on her lips; as if she already knew the answer to her question.

"This morning," he responded all too quickly, and you swatted him on the chest, which caused him to smirk at you in response. Oliver knew all too well the truth in that statement, as he had a slight front row seat to yours and Felix's morning activities. He didn't see anything, but he heard everything as if he was in the room with the two of you. The moans the both of you let out, the dirty talk the both of you shared — performing in such a way as if the two of you were the only two in the entire estate. He wanted so much to see it, to open the bedroom door, he knew that the door would have creaked — pressing his ear against the bedroom door sufficed...for now anyway.

"Kinky," Farleigh smirked, and you rolled your eyes.

"All of you are ridiculous," you stated, closing your book as you started to slowly kick your feet in the air. "Don't answer her Ollie."

"It was before uni," he mumbled.

"What'ya say Ollie?" Felix asked, raising a brow.

"Before uni," Oliver said a bit louder this time.

Felix and Venetia exchanged looks before Felix looked at him with a slightly devilish looking grin. It was impossible not to love any kind of smile he would give. "For your party tomorrow, we'll get you laid. It'll be my birthday present to you."

"Kind of a lame birthday present, love," you teased.

Felix let out a small laugh. "You weren't complaining when that was a part of your birthday gift last year," he teased back. That's when he leaned in, kissing you in the most loving way possible; and Oliver actually felt like he was on the verge of throwing up looking at the two of you. He had witnessed the two of you kissing plenty of times, had witnessed snippets of you two being intimate in various ways, but for some reason, this particular interaction had almost set him off. Felix was so madly in love with you that it physically pained him to see it.

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[i-love-ptv]

He Loves My Heart-Shaped Sunglasses

Felix Catton x Fem! Reader

You and Felix spend Valentine’s Day together. <3

Smut (lowk filthy) + Fluff

Wc: 2,550

An: Wanted to post this before v day, but i got sidetracked, thankfully pushed it out before the day ended :3

February 14th.

The day of love.

The day to show your special someone how much you care for them.

The day that’ll bring out the joy and excitement out of most, but will also bring out the bitter feelings of some.

Felix has never really favored Valentine’s day. He may be a soft romantic now; a year into your relationship, but before, he was used to hookups that led to his lonesome morning after. Hence why it was so hard for him to ask you out last year on this very day.

He spent hours in different shops; trying to find the perfect gifts for you. Obviously, this process would’ve gone by quicker if Venetia didn’t get distracted by the hundreds of soft stuffed animals every few minutes, and if Farleigh had even went.

“Please Farleigh! Surely you can help me! You know more about these things than I do!”

“No can do lover boy, besides, you have Vee going with you.” Farleigh had said with an amused smirk.

After a little more of groveling and begging on Felix’s end, Farleigh still didn’t budge. The fact that Felix had said that he wanted to “woo” you, hadn’t helped his case either.

The beaming lights of the shops reflecting off of the bright pinks and reds had Felix’s head starting to ache.

He had settled on getting you a bouquet of red roses, a basket of your favorite snacks, and some other little goodies.

That day when you saw one singular rose on your desk in your english class, the last person you expected to be nervously glancing in your direction was Felix.

After a long, panic-filled conversation with the blubbering boy, you two had finally become official, and Felix swears to this day, that it was the best day of his entire life.

Now, Felix has gotten a bit better at buying gifts for you. He knows you like the back of his tattooed hand. But he can’t help but feel nervous to see you this morning. After all, you only have one, one year anniversary with your love.

Felix observed as the other students of Oxford were handing out gifts to their significant others. Felix couldn’t help but think about how his presents for you were far more superior to everyone else’s.

He had been so distracted, that he hadn’t noticed you walking up.

You tapped on his shoulder and he had nearly leaped out of his skin.

He quickly realizes who is in front of him, and grips you up like you were light as a feather.

“Angel! Oh my goodness you startled me! Happy anniversary sweet girl!” Felix says grinning, like he was looking at the brightest star in the galaxy.

“Happy anniversary my love,” you return through your giggles.

“Here! Here! Open the gifts I bought for you honey!” Felix rushes out as he’s pushing the bags into your hands.

You jokingly chide him for nearly knocking your things out of your hands, but quickly start digging through one of the bags.

He had given you one of his sweaters, a pair of heels you had been eyeing in town, a few other items, and most importantly, a beautiful ring covered in diamonds.

“S’not an engagement ring, not yet anyways, but a promise ring, because I promise to love you always and forever. Tha’s a bit too cheesy, isn’t it? Sorry, I had this whole thing I was going to say but-“

You cut his rambling off with a deep kiss to his rosy lips.

“Thank you Felix, I love it with my whole heart, baby.”You say while pulling away breathlessly.

Felix’s face started to hurt from the constant smiling, but the thought of that flew out the window as he remembered that you had gotten him something.

Felix had practically ripped through the big box you gave him; feeling like he was about to burst at the seems. You smile softly, imagining him with a wagging tail and perked up puppy ears.

You had bought a few articles of clothing, more cologne, a new book that he said he had been interested in reading, and of course, a stunning bracelet, that matched the exact same on dangling on your wrist.

After many more kisses, hugs, and sugary sweet words exchanged between the two of you, you both head to class.

Felix was counting down the minutes until he could see your dazzling face in front of him again. His class felt as if it had been going on for hours, and the fact that he couldn’t focus on his lesson for even a few minutes while thinking about you, wasn’t helping. His mind was drifting to what he had planned for the two of you later tonight.

You, on the other hand, were on the same boat as Felix.

All that consumed your mind was Felix; you’re sweet, dashing Felix.

You’re suddenly snapped out of your thoughts by your professor, who had agitatedly started lecturing you on the importance of focusing on class.

And finally, after multiple grueling hours, and a heated make-out session in a storage closet, classes for today were over.

Felix suggested that you two go into town, and go on a date to the cafe you both loved. At this point, it was your guys’ cafe; your designated spot, where you both can run away from the world and just enjoy one another.

After spending hours, which seemed like minutes, in the cafe, and throughout town, the two of you settle on going back to your dorm.

Normally, the two of you just go to Felix’s dorm, but his was still somewhat airing out from the smoke session you two had the night prior.

Although, the idea of you two walking through town sounded romantic at the time, you hadn’t thought into how long you two would be walking.

“‘Lex?” You call out softly. Felix immediately turns to you.

“Can you carry me? M’feet hurt honey.” You say with a slight pout, to get your point across.

Felix, of course, being the amazing boyfriend he is, quickly picks you up, bridal-style and carries you back.

You ask him multiple times if he was alright carrying you for so long, but after his reassurance and light nip to your nose, your worries are put to rest.

The two of you eventually settle on your bed, and you curl against Felix’s warm body.

“Wait, darling, I forgot a few things at my dorm,” Felix rushes out.

“Mmm, no ‘Lex, stay with me”

“It’ll only be a minute angel, I promise.”

Felix nearly doesn’t have the heart to pull you off of him, but he can’t afford to keep you from your final gift for much longer.

He leaves with a quick kiss to your forehead and nose, and goes to retrieve the items from his dorm.

He comes back and spots you sitting up on the bed with what he thinks is nothing, but his shirt on, and strawberries. You had also opted for a can of whipped cream, instead of melted chocolate, because after last time, you didn’t want to endure the process of the chocolate staining your white sheets, and hardening as you two tried to use it.

“Wha’s this baby?” Felix says with a smirk as he inches towards you.

You feel his warm, hand on your calf as he reaches you.

“What? Did you really think we were going to go without some fun on our anniversary baby?” You say while looking up at him with longing.

“Unwrap your gift, Felix.”

The brunette boy wastes no time in stripping you from his your shirt.

There, he sees, the lacy brown lingerie covering your body; the brown being almost, if not fully, identical to the color of his dark brown irises.

Felix kisses your neck, leaving no area of skin unmarked with purple bruises.

“Mm, wait” He says as he leaves behind a slight strain on saliva on your flesh.

“Oh my god Felix, seriously?” You say with slight annoyance.

“Relax. I have something for you.” Felix chides.

Felix pulls out a box, containing a necklace; with his initials on it.

“D’you like it baby? I think it’ll be perfect, tha’way none of those other boys could even think they could have a chance with you.”

“Why boys, Felix?” You ask slyly, trying to push his buttons a bit.

“I say boys because, my angel..They could never fuck you like I do…Like a man.” He says lowly, showcasing the bass in his silky smooth voice.

You let out a whine at this; loving when he gets possessive over you, “put it on me Felix, claim me.” You purr.

He moves your hair out of his way, and puts the necklace around your neck, subtly grinding his hard, pulsing cock against the little fabric you had covering your cunt.

You let out a sigh, as Felix moans lowly in your love-bitten ear.

He then grabs a strawberry and stuffs it gently between your lips, making you bite down on it.

The juices trickle down your chin as he moves the fruit around inside of your mouth. He licks a stripe up from your throat to right below your lips.

He goes back and leaves a bite on your throat, making you tilt you head back with a sharp moan, giving him more access.

Felix kisses you roughly as he grabs the whipped cream. He squirts a line of the sweet cream onto your navel; watching it slowly glide down to your soaked core.

“God…’Lex don’t tease me,” you whimper meekly.

“But y’taste s’sweet, lovie.” Felix says, letting out a giggle that makes your pussy clench.

“Oh look at you, m’dirty little thing. Clenchin’ around nothin’,” Felix says smugly as he kisses down your warm body.

Abruptly, Felix dips down and licks a stripe up your achy cunt.

“Fuck ‘Lex!”

Felix grins at your shriek, as he presses sloppy kisses to your clit.

“…I thought I told you to stop teasing me baby,” you say, pushing his head down onto your cunt, prompting him to start licking and sucking where you want him to.

Your back arches off the bed as you squeal in ecstasy. You grab Felix’s hair with both hands roughly; he moans at this, which sends shockwaves through your body.

Felix fucks you with his tongue for what feels like hours, sticking his tongue in and out of your pulsing hole.

Felix feels your thighs trembling, making it clear that you’re close to reaching your climax.

Felix removes his mouth with a slick pop and a charming smile, making you cry out.

“Wait! Wait no. ‘Lex, why’d you stop? Baby. Baby please I need it. Put it back please-“

“Shhh, angel. M’gonna give you somethin’ better. Gonna give you this cock. Tha’s what you wanted, right?” Felix says pressing his lips to yours, again, and again.

Felix continues kissing you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, pulling out his stiff dick.

He rubs the tip against your folds, watching his precum drip against your wetness.

“Mmm, y’ready f’me sweetheart?”

“Please, please, please ‘Lex. I’ll be so good! So so good, I promise! Please give it to me! I need it!” You shout eagerly.

“God, you make me feel whole,” Felix says as he slowly pushes his cock into your heat.

“Thank you ‘Lex! Thank you! Oh fuck!”

Felix almost immediately starts thrusting in and out of you roughly, opening your legs wider as he plants his feet.

“Fuck babe! I swear y’made f’me. I thank any ‘n every god tha’ led us to each other, honey.” Felix says with a delicious groan.

“Shit! God that’s it baby. Don’t stop!” You say, reaching down to start toying with your clit.

Felix nips at your fingers; having noticed your dainty fingers rubbing circles. Silently ordering you to quit it.

You wrap your legs around his meaty torso tightly as he flicks at your puffy pussy.

“Oh! O’fuck! Right there! Mhm!” Felix feels as if he’s consuming your moans, picking up his already brutal pace to absolutely abuse your cunt. His main goal being to make you squirm in ways only he can.

“Uh huh? Yeah y’like that angel? Feels- oh f-fuck. Feels good doesn’it?”

Felix lets out more deep groans, with the occasional whine.

“‘Lex. ‘Lex, baby. M’cumming.” You rush out breathlessly.

“M’right there with y’baby, m’right here. Just, fuck, wait a second..Wanna come together, beautiful.” Felix says panting.

The only noises to be heard in the somewhat small dorm are the moans and gasps of two passionate lovers, and the squeaks and banging from the plush bed.

In any other scenario, you’d be pressing your hand around your mouth, stressing to Felix about the importance of staying quiet; not wanting to get more noise complaints. But right now, you could barely even think about where you are; focusing only on the circles being rubbed on your glistening cunt, and the feeling of Felix’s warm, almost candle-lit hot limbs touching yours.

Felix’s pace begins to falter, growing sloppier and sloppier with every thrust, showing signs of Felix nearing his blissful end.

“Yes! Fuck yes! Come f’me angel, please! Give it t’me! C’mon, y’know y’can, here hold m’hand.” Felix says, reaching his clammy hand to your already sweaty one.

“F-fuck! ‘Lex!”

In the span of seconds, the two of you are coming undone together, gripping each other’s hand so tightly.

You feel your climax shake through your entire body, making you jerk against Felix’s hold, as he tries to keep himself together.

Felix collapses softly next to you with a soft “holy shit,” making sure not to startle you in your hazy state.

He brushes the hair from your moist skin and peppers feather-like kisses onto your face, collarbone, and scalp; helping you calm down from your high.

You look at him bleary eyed, taking account of his wobbly smiles as he tries to catch his breath.

‘Does he ever stop smiling?’ You think to yourself.

“Hi honey,” Felix whispers.

“Hi baby,” you whisper back with a giggle.

“Y’so gorgeous, y’know that, angel?” He says, after softly pulling out and snuggling closer to you with a blanket.

“So i’ve been told,” you say, blinking sleepily.

“Wait, sweetheart. Y’can’t sleep yet! I gotta clean you up!” Felix says in a hurry, jumping out from underneath the blanket. He quickly walks over to his desk, which has a pack of wipes on it, and he finds a towel on his dresser.

You fight sleep, as Felix softly wipes you, making sure not to put too much pressure on your already sore cunt.

He sits you up a bit, putting on of his cozy sweatshirts on your frame and gently lays you back down.

He quickly puts a pair of boxers on once he hears your soft whines, begging for him to cuddle you.

He lays down and drapes your body on top of his.

The last thing you feel before drifting off is a sweet kiss being pressed onto your forehead.

“Happy Valentine’s Day lovie..and most importantly, happy one year anniversary.”

feedback always appreciated bb <3

[girlboybug]

Haunted

“my wicked tongue, where will it be, i know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me.”

or the one where it’s halloween at saltburn and you and farleigh ditch the party downstairs to celebrate with a little weed in your bedroom.

what’s playing 🎧: haunted by beyoncé

pairing : farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

*UNEDITED*

word count : 6k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, virgin!reader, bi coded! reader, heavy petting, grinding and dry humping, oral f!receiving, mentions of fingering, mentions of blowjobs, little bit of tip sucking oops, handjobs, light hair pulling, boob worship, sub coded farleigh for two seconds, smidge of overstimulation

TRIGGER WARNINGS : both reader and farleigh are high when they engage in the sexual activity but it’s all consensual they’re both equally high, ummmmmmmm hints of slut shaming in the beginning by farleigh but it’s not fr fr bc his ass is mother slut let’s be honest

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME TO YOU :3!

a/n : comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments <3

venetia and felix are nowhere to be found amidst the neon mess of bodies that inhabit every orifice of what was once an almost eerily quiet and empty corridor just this morning. leaving you to be doomed to a fate of enduring a poorly put together semblance of…you think frankenstein, having a one sided conversation with you. “can i get you another drink?” he asks over the booming music and for the first time in the entire interaction you smile a genuinely smile, and nod with urgency. “god yes—please,” you respond eagerly, handing him back your cup. he takes it with an undeserving great sense of pride, and you exhale with relief once he disappears from your line of vision, hoping he loses you in the crowd.

“interesting costume choice,” a familiar, annoying, voice comments behind you. without even turning around yet, you find yourself rolling your eyes. you give him a once over and scoff. his fangs protrude from his smile, and you wish it looked cartoonish and stupid, but alas, he unfortunately looks good. really good. but over your dead body you’d ever admit that.

fake blood is dribbled from the corners of his mouth and two neat dots rest near his pulse on the side of his neck. a brow rises and crinkles your forehead, aiding in the faux judgment you cast upon him. “rich coming from the guy who’s wearing the most generic costume known to man.” you retort back, subconsciously withholding a level of snideness. you like the build of veiled insults you two toss back and forth, it’s never fun if you start off too strong. you enjoy the way you both ease into it. it’s a flow you’ve both unknowingly created for each other.

his head shifts to the side when he rolls his eyes and exhales under his breath, and your heart falters just a little lower within your ribcage when you see a bright red kiss stain on his jaw.

“it’s in reference to bram stoker’s dracula, a classic piece of literature, but you?” his eyes flicker over you, a little upward curve growing in the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d be better than defaulting to a sexy version of marie antoinette.” he folds his arms over his chest, peering down at you, unbeknownst to the excitement that bubbles in the depths of his chest as he awaits whatever response you’re brewing in your head to bite back with.

heat plants itself like a seed in the pit of your stomach and extends its branches through your chest and across your cheeks at his observation. but a hefty cloud of pride quickly replaces it when his words ring through your head again.

he thinks i look sexy?

“i’m not a sexy marie antoinette. i’m just. Her.” you reply with a sense of smugness, seemingly stealing his, when a look of oh fuck flashes across his face. he’s quick to rid himself of it but you caught it, and you’ll be damned if you let go of the one time farleigh let himself waver in front of you.

“i meant slutty.” he replies cooly, uncaring, and you nod, a stupid grin on your face that he wishes he could wipe off. “you called me sexy.” your grin only grows and he’s already rolling

his eyes once more. “i know no one compliments you like you wish they would, so anything that remotely sounds like one is enough for you to latch onto, but i promise,” he steps forward and leans his neck downward towards you, not bothering to bend down to meet your height. “i meant slutty.”

a rush of something you don’t want to distinguish floods the shoreline of your lower stomach and trickles heat between your inner thighs at the way he speaks to you, but you hide it, barely allowing yourself to even acknowledge it. “the biggest slut i know calling someone else slutty, that’s funny,” you internally groan, knowing your reply wasn’t as witty as you’d intended.

before farleigh can verbally retaliate, your name is called out and you recognize who it belongs to, your dreaded frankenstein. you panic for a moment, dreading being back in conversation with him and you glance up at farleigh, hurriedly switching your bodies around, successfully shielding yourself with his stature.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing what you’re using him for. he laughs and you smack his back, hushing him. while you hide behind him you take the fleeting moments you have to outline his broad shoulders with your eyes, and how they trail into a slim little waist. his perfectly tailored suit hugs him just right, and it makes your throat get a little tight. you never took the time to notice farleigh’s physique, rather opting to semi-playfully belittle him. you find hints of regret in that.

he turns back around to face you and you snap back into the present, not the paused moment in which saltburn was empty and all that occupied it was you and farleigh and his broad back and small waist. “coast is clear.” he says, switching his weight onto one foot. “frankenstein? really?” he seems unimpressed, almost… irritated? you’re unsure.

you grumble and smooth down the invisible

wrinkles in your corset. “don’t start.” but he does anyway.

“didn’t know that was your type.”

“what?”

“somewhat stupid looking, bumbling.”

“what’s it matter to you?” you ask, wondering how far he’ll go with his dissertation on why the guy he has zero knowledge on is an idiot. “it doesn’t. it’s just getting a bit sad seeing that the only people who are interested in you are so…lacking.”

you suck on your teeth and nod, shrugging before you reply. “least i’m not fucking my teachers.” he heartily laughs, sticking his tongue in the bottom corner of his lip. “and yet, they all still trump your sorry excuses of flings.”

you open your mouth to correct him but you shut yourself up before you embarrass yourself. instead you just shake your head dismissively. you perk up when you remember a little secret pick me up you’ve been hiding. you reach into your cleavage, unaware of the way the sight stirs something inside of farleigh. you pull out the joint you tucked away for safe keeping, waving it with an offering smile. “wanna share?” you ask and he chuckles in shock at the proposition. “weed? you’re a pothead now?” you sigh annoyedly and glare up at him. “you wanna share or not? quick before i change my mind.” he smirks and nods, eyeing the joint then you. “i’ll oblige.”

he follows you to your room, holding your waist to wade through the pool of people, with you flush against him. you ignore the way his hands mold around your waist, his long fingers curled across your dress, and you especially ignore how you feel his rings through the thin material of your dress.

you don’t care.

you lean against the open window of your bedroom with the joint, not wanting to taint the air with the stench, knowing elspeth’s keen nose would immediately clock it the moment she walks into your room.

farleigh coughs a lot more than you would’ve expected him to and it makes you beam with a feeling of superiority. “you smoke like half a pack of cigarettes every day, how on earth is this making you cough so hard?” you snicker, handing him a water bottle you keep by your bed.

he glares at you, taking a hefty swig from your bottle, setting it down before extending his hand back out for the joint, determined to prove a point. “forgive me for not being used to smoking weed, unlike you, you addict,” he mutters through an exhale of smoke. you actually guffaw at his snippy little reply, for once in shock of something he has to say. “me? an addict? weed is probably the most harmless drug like—ever, whereas you, keep a keychain of literal cocaine on you almost at all times.”

he hates that he happens to have exactly what you just said on his person in this very moment. he tucks it away into his pocket and huffs. “i just do it socially, you’re probably up here all the time smoking alone like a loser by the window,” he has an infuriating self satisfied smirk when he speaks to you and you laugh sardonically, nodding along.

“well,” you say, taking in a hit, and letting it gently fan over his face when you exhale. “no one’s forcing you to engage in something apparently so below you,” you motion towards the door with a lazy jab of your head. “doors that way if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

he remains unfaltered in your cloud of smoke, letting it envelope him. he breathes it in, leaning against the windowsill. “do you want me to leave?”

“i always do.” you don’t miss a beat, a look that tells him you don’t really mean it is thinly covered with a fake smile, eliciting a chuckle through pursed lips from him. “i don’t believe you.” he murmurs when he inches back toward you, plucking the joint from your fingers. he takes another hit, it’s smoother, he’s more in control of it, and something flutters inside you seeing the way he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke out the window.

“you’re insufferable,” you say hushedly, gently, and he chuckles quietly, handing you the joint. “and yet you keep me around anyway.”

“not by choice.”

—

as the night rages on, the joint you both share dwindles down into a dull roach, and you crush the bud into your porcelain ashtray, tucking it away and beneath your nightstand.

your legs feel a little wobbly, your body has significantly loosened up and your center of gravity feels a bit off, but you feel good, and it seems farleigh feels the same. his eyes are low and hooded, they look a little red — it’s cute, kind of endearing too but you keep that to yourself like a bashful secret. his face and overall demeanor seems to be relaxed as well, a lot more loosened up than he was just an hour prior.

you smile at him, and there’s nothing hidden under the action, there’s no cover up for anything. you’re just happy to be with him in a moment like this. and he returns it to you, full sentiment and all, filling you with a sense of contentment. “feel nice?” you ask breathily, collapsing onto your bed. he joins you, plopping down beside you when he replies. “mmhm. i like it,” he says, and his voice sounds a bit rougher from the smoke, his words laying on the edge of a rasp.

you shuffle around to lay on your side, your palm supporting the weight of your head, settling into a comfortable position. he copies your actions, switching around on his side to properly face you. he looks beautiful with the way the moon creeps in through your parted window, the pale light complements the highlights in his curls and makes them look golden; he looks golden. but when your eyes fall on the red kiss on his jaw, everything turns back to copper.

“who gave you this?” you question him quietly, sadly. like it physically hurts you to ask him. your fingers hover just above the lipstick stain, unable to get yourself to touch it. in your induced state you’ve convinced yourself that if you were to ever touch farleigh’s face, it won’t be in the spot someone else tarnished with their own touch first.

“why?” he answers your question with another question and you huff under your breath, your filter too worn out from the weed to hide your frustration behind a poker face. “why can’t i ask?” you push a little further and he snickers lazily. “why do you wanna know?” he counters and you roll your heavy eyes, letting yourself fall onto your back once more.

he scoots closer to you, angling his neck to look downward at you, and he pouts with faux concern. “you jealous?” he asks, perking up and leaning towards you with a beaming smirk. you scoff, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn to look away. the proximity of your faces is too much to bear, but not for him, his index and thumb guide you right back by your chin to face him. he keeps your gaze on him in place, his wide palm cupping your cheek. your skin tingles under the coldness from his rings.

“tell me which one it is,” he says through a hushed exhale, leaning on his elbow, his eyes still angled down at you, his lips in an unintentional pout. “are you jealous of me, because why wouldn’t you be,” he hums on an airy note, drawn out and easy. his gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “or of whoever left it?” your mouth goes even dryer than you thought it could, and you’re unsure of what to say, what to think, and between the lack of space between both of your lips and the questions he’s asking, you’re left frazzled. scrambling for something, anything to say.

you’re not sure how to reply, you’re shocked he even asked that to begin with, and now it’s your turn to visibly falter in front of him. he looks at you expectantly, and a little part of him feels he’s won some mini challenge in your ongoing battle to embarrass the other. but there’s a different type of smugness in his small victory, perhaps a confirmation on something he’d been wondering about for awhile.

“i’m not jealous of either of you,” your voice falls upon a faint breath and his brows push together, nodding patronizingly. “oh i’m sure.” he pushes a little harder on your buttons, waiting for when you finally do something about it.

“why would i be jealous of someone who gets with just anybody?” you add, sitting up on your elbows, unintentionally leaning in closer, engaging him in the push and pull. he follows your flow in motion, inching in closer, just a little, keeping the space between you both minimal. he laughs softly from the center of his belly, flicking a brow up. “versus what? someone who doesn’t get with anyone? sounds boring.” he adds, tilting his head, your noses brushing against each other’s. “boring is better than whatever you bring back home at night.” his chuckle falls across your lips at your response, and you find yourself parting your lips to breathe him in.

“are you admitting to having a non-existent sex life? i’d say i’m shocked but i’m not,” he replies, his voice at the end of a whisper, a hazy, knowing smile rising in the corner of his lips. you take in a deep breath, smoothing out the duvet beneath your palms as you reply without a second thought to what you’re confessing to. “i’d rather get none than contract every std ever by fucking everyone who roams the halls at oxford,”

farleigh laughs initially, taking your playful jab before he pauses and looks at you a bit more seriously. a little too serious for your liking. it makes you burn up and inwardly panic. did you say something wrong? go too far?

“but you’ve had sex before…right?” he asks to clarify, sitting up a little straighter now. the burning sensation in your cheeks only heightens now. “um,” you’re once again left wondering how to reply but your pause acts as his answer alone. he sits all the way up now and you groan when you begin to hear the gears in his head shifting.

he says your name like he’s awestruck and you grab a pillow, pretending to suffocate yourself with it. he tosses it off of you and pulls you up to look at him. “you’ve really never…done it?” he asks again, unbelieving to this revelation. normally he’d find this to be a pot of gold chock full of new material to use against you but right now he’s in too much disbelief to act on any of this.

“no,” you huff, avoiding his stare. “why not?” he asks, lowering his voice in a softer tone this time. “dunno,” you shrug. “no one really caught my eye enough for me to wanna do it, and then you know college rolled around and i was just too busy for it.”

he half scoffs half laughs but it all stems from shock. “it’s impossible to be too busy for sex,” he opposes and you laugh dryly. “yeah for you, but i actually care about my grades,” he shakes his head, shooing any topic of academics away. “yeah yeah whatever,” he waves you off, as if he’s clearing the air for his next round of questions. “you’ve at least kissed someone right—“ you’re shutting him up with a pillow thrown against his chest and he laughs, pushing it out of the way. ”of course i have farleigh, don’t be stupid,” you laugh, embarrassment still blooming in the depths of your chest.

“i had to check!” he says defensively and your embarrassment grows when you realize he really was genuinely asking, meaning it’s believable that no one’s ever kissed you.

god.

you bury your face in the pillow that acted as your weapon just seconds ago, unable to face him.

his laughter rings pleasantly in your ears, his hands prying you away from the pillow, wanting to see you. “have you done…anything at all?” he asks, like it’s sensitive information he’s pulling from you, he’s gentler when he questions you, easing you into the topic. you nod, biting on your thumbnail as you recollect your sparse experiences.

“tell me about them,” he says, leaning back on both elbows, still turned to face you. you rest on your stomach, your forearms supporting your weight, situating yourself to share your run ins with fleeting intimacy. “well, it was freshman year back at oxford, some guy i think his name was theo—“

“theo wright?”

“uh yeah i think so—“

“well there’s your first mistake.” he says matter of factly, his words dying down towards the end when he sees your irritated expression.

“can i finish please?” you glare and he laughs, nodding. “is what you probably asked him right?” you stifle the laugh that almost slips out, opting to narrow your eyes at him annoyedly instead. “shush.” you huff.

“anyways, i dunno i think it was at some dumb welcoming freshman’s party and we went upstairs and we kissed in some guy’s bed and he rubbed my inner thigh for like 5 minutes, completely under the impression he was touching my clit.” you can barely make it through the description of your time with theo without farleigh doubling over and laughing, nudging your arm with his head.

“oh my god that’s good,” he exhales at the end of his laughter, pretending to wipe a tear from the corners of his eyes. “you poor thing,” he sighs, patting your cheek. “and did you say anything? like…correct him maybe?” and you shake your head dejectedly. “no. i had to pretend to cum so he would stop.” you admit, the regret from that night pinging through you.

farleigh coos at you apologetically, “poor baby,” he hums, patting your cheek, his ringed pinky casting away an imaginary strand of hair, finding any excuse there is to be near you, to touch you. you melt under his touch, fighting the urge to lean into it. “that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a hook up?” he asks, fully focused on you, making you a bit nervous from all his attention being directed at you. there’s no audience to perform your shared act for, it’s just you and him, and you think you like this change of pace.

you shake your head, laying back against the headboard, resting your legs across farleigh’s, to which he welcomes without hesitation, throwing an arm over them casually.

“i had one more. it was with noa…” you trail off, a bit shyer expressing this particular experience. farleigh however is nowhere near shy, the word is nowhere near his vocabulary, instead his interest has been piqued and it’s visible in the way his ears just about perk. “wait, girl noa or boy noah—uh keaton or deacon?”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the muffled thrum of music fill the air before you speak again. “keaton.”

he laughs, shocked but impressed, his tongue poking the hollow curve of his cheek as he nods. “noa keaton, interesting...” he repeats back, mostly to himself, somewhat in awe.

“don’t be weird about it,” you groan and he shakes his head, rubbing your calf comfortingly. “no no i’m not i just wasn’t expecting that. good for you though,” he winks at you and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah. anyways she um…she fingered me in the library,” a fluttery feeling lines your stomach at the memory and farleigh catches onto your pauses, noticing a more positive physical reaction when you mention her. “yeah? was it good?” he asks lowly, his voice huskier than it was a moment ago and you nod, leaning your head against the cold wooden headboard. “it was—thankfully; she actually knew what to do, you know?” he nods, chuckling. “makes sense. did you get to finish that time?” he asks as if he’s actually concerned, and the way his hand keeps running up and down your legs makes you feel as if he just might be.

you’re not used to discussing such topics with farleigh, it’s unfamiliar and his bluntness and shamelessness in being open with how curious he is as to whether or not someone has made you cum is catching you off guard, but most concerningly, it’s making you ache. “no,” you finally answer, sighing sadly. “almost did. but we also almost got caught and then you know, she dropped out. haven’t heard from her since.”

you expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. he takes a moment of silence and it acts as yet another surprise tonight; farleigh is capable of being quiet.

“so you haven’t had any experiences worth writing home about then, huh?” he verges on a whisper, his voice cradling the sides of your face, guiding your eyes back to his. you nod and he hums in tune to something similar of patronizing. “let alone any real ones,” he adds, his thumb swirling over your knee. you shrug lightly, anxiously fiddling with the ruffles at the skirt of your dress.

“do you want one?” he asks, his eyes keeping you still in place and you gasp silently, swallowing thickly. “want what?” you manage to reply, your nerves blanketing over you. “a good experience.”

you stare at him for a second, unsure if he’s really just said what he said, but in the case that he did, you nod like you’ve been entranced by a siren song. with the way that farleigh speaks to you while maintaining eye contact, the way his hand tempts you alone with a few gentle touches upon your leg, you might as well have been.

he smiles at your agreement, sliding his hand down to your ankle and tugging you towards him. you gasp, yelping with low volume as you slide down your bed. he pulls you in close, climbing further into your bed until he’s on top of you.

his hooded eyes peer down at you, drinking you all in, so beautiful and pliable beneath him. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running along it and smearing your lipstick across your chin. he dips between your lips, smirking to himself when you kiss the pad of it.

he pulls away leaning downward until his nose nudges yours. “tell me i can kiss you,” he tells you, his words fanning out against your lips, and you nearly moan from the proximity itself. “i want you to kiss me.” you whisper back and you sweat you see a smile on his lips before they’re on yours.

you moan with relief, embarrassingly desperate to have farleigh on you. you’re chest to chest, lips interlocked with his cock pressed up against your clothed crotch, grinding lightly. he groans in your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip as if it were secreting nectar. he’s starved from the weed consumption, and all those months of this incessant back and forth you two shared is all coming back full force, and you can feel it in how hard he kisses you and the hunger that lies underneath it all.

his hand travels from the back of your knee, gliding over your leg and up your thigh, squeezing your hip when his hand finds purchase there. he ruts into you in waves, breaking apart from your lips, much to your dismay, to kiss and nip at your neck, rinsing you of the disappointment from the momentary lack of closeness.

“farleigh,” you breath out, your knees locking him in on either side of his hips, pushing up to meet his grinding motions. “what baby?” he mumbles, raspy and heavy and it makes your clit throb. “feels s’good,” you sigh lazily, arching your back into his chest. he chuckles, his ego rising with every little moan you give him.

“better than what theo did?” he asks, pushing his bulge right up against your clit, and you whimper, nodding stupidly. his signet ring tickles you through your thin panty hose when he inches closer between your thighs. your breath stops in the middle of your throat as he nears your cunt. “can i touch?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. you moan under your breath, nodding. “please?” you beg, heavy eyes of yours gazing at him from beneath your eyelashes, lips pouted desperately.

he doesn’t make you ask again, he’ll save that for another endeavor he hopes you two will indulge in again. for now he’ll give you what you want without making you work for it. at least, too hard.

he rubs you through your panty hose, sucking in a sharp breath. “fuckin’ soaked through baby,” he groans, kissing you hard.

the wind in your lungs has abandoned you, the air in the room playing cat and mouse with you amid your struggle to keep up. farleigh’s touches making the feat all the more increasingly difficult. he sends you one last kiss on your lips, sponging one to your chin, then down your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

“can i take this off?” he murmurs, his chin just beneath your sternum, fingers toying with the laces of your corset. you rest on your elbows, looking down at him, the way he peers up at you alone could convince you to commit the most heinous crimes. you nod, reaching down to untie them, but he’s quick to stop you. “let me do it,” he says, grasping your wrists. you swallow thickly, glancing at how his large hand easily holds both your wrists with ease.

he takes his time unlacing your corset, wanting to savor this juncture in time. he’s slower than you thought he’d be, treating you like a ribbon wrapped present, if he’s too rough it may all fall apart and honestly you just might if he doesn’t move any faster.

“farleigh,” you whine, sitting back up. “hurry up or it stays on,” you nearly growl and he laughs, tugging everything undone with a harsh tug, opening your corset and baring your breasts. you gasp, instinctively covering yourself. he shakes his head, tsking you when he pulls your arms away. “thought you wanted me to hurry up?” he bites back just a little, playfully, and you glare at him. he doesn’t care, he’s already lowering himself back between your thighs, holding you by your calves to spread you open.

he grips your calf, the other squeezing your thigh, using them to keep you wide open for him. his hands are warm and firm around your flesh, and his tongue is wet and hot against your clothed cunt.

the small act alone propels you into hedonism, reminding you of how good pleasure can be, how all consuming it is, and in this moment it feels as though farleigh is the only one who can provide any relief for the burning engine grinding in the pit of your stomach, aching to be satiated.

“farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back when he mouths at your cunt, his tongue burns through your thin layers but it’s not enough, you want his tongue to brand itself right up against your clit.

your desires and needs are caught through your drawn out breaths, tugging at the air in jagged gasps. he reads through all your little sounds, and without any coherent words needed, he digs a nail into your pale pantyhose, ripping them in the crotch and pushing your panties to the side, burying his tongue right where you need it to be, searing your soaked flesh with every broad flick of the wet muscle.

you gasp almost like it hurts, but it’s quite the opposite. he laps you up and devours your cunt like he’s trying to reach your heart, grappling around your legs and gripping your hips to keep you in place, starved for something sweet. his eyes that have held you inside silent conversations amidst a gathering of people are now shut, tucked away behind his eyelids and long lashes, too focused on the way you taste and how he can’t seem to get enough of you.

he’s never been this hungry before, and maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the simple fact he’s fantasized about this more often than he’d like to admit. on more than just a singular off handed occasion, his hand has slipped beneath his boxers, jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together and teeth gritted, almost begrudgingly to the act itself.

but he always gives in.

the fantasy is always the same, it’s prompted by whatever stupid argument you two found yourselves in, and he shuts you up with his mouth latched onto your cunt, erasing any quips or snarkiness left in you and replacing them with the sounds of you struggling to barely even moan his name. and now that it’s real, he can’t just stop now, he wants to prolong this moment for as long as he can.

his nose swipes across your clit, pulling a drawn out moan from the depths of your chest, and you shudder, trying to find something to hold onto for security, but farleigh’s a step ahead of you, eagerly offering his hands for you to take. you do so, desperately, lacing your fingers together and whimpering when he takes in a dull quick breath before pouring himself into your cunt, flicking his tongue right there, and moaning to himself at the way you just melt into him.

you roll your hips into his mouth sporadically, with no real rhythm, your body reacting with violent jerks as if his tongue were electric, and he takes it all in stride, squeezing your hands lovingly.

and when he sucks on your clit, it’s too much, you can’t take it, it pulls you into a state of thick molasses, gleaming and aureate, only to settle into the center of your stomach, pushing inward and arching you forward into pure ember, sizzling through you until it reaches your fingertips.

you can hardly hear or feel yourself breathe, everything’s buzzing and muffled, honey coats your skin and encases you in its sweetness.

you can’t help the twitching in your hips and lower stomach, whimpering in pleasured agony when you come back to earth and feel farleigh’s mouth still on you, moaning to himself and toying with your clit between his lips.

you’re untangling your fingers, and he grunts when you try to squirm away from his mouth, but he’s not having it, gently smacking your hipbone, silently chastising you.

you whine, taking in hefty gasps, it’s starting to hurt but in a way you can’t say is bad. it’s just so overwhelming, it makes you burn from the inside out and you can’t stop the thin stream of tears that escape from your heavy eyes. your bare breasts heave in the thick air, your mouth is parted with a choppy flow of pleadings with farleigh.

he slowly relents, planting one last firm kiss against your clit, peppering smaller ones across your hips and lower tummy, making his way back up to you. “hi,” he smiles as if he wasn’t just tongue deep inside your cunt. he swipes away the streaks of mascara tinted tears from your eyes, laughing breathily at the sight of your lack of coherence. “hi,” you exhale, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. his eyes shut when he leans into you, taking your lips in his. the taste of you is heavy on his tongue, heat fanning across your cheeks when you realize that bittersweet taste in his mouth is you.

your hand rests on his chest, slowly slipping lower and lower until you reach his bulge, palming him with fervor but maintaining some form of sensuality, albeit fueled with a sense of rushed desperation. you break apart from his lips and his head tilts forward, chasing after your kiss. you sponge a kiss against the corner of his lips, angling a downcast tilt towards his cock, mouth agape and eager to take him in. but he’s holding your jaw, stopping you and bringing you back to meet his gaze.

your eyebrows knit together with almost a betrayed curiosity. “why not?” you ask, almost naively, and he shakes his head, his thumb gently swiping across your bottom lip. “you don’t have to do that baby,” he promises, and it only increases your desire to take him in your mouth when you can practically hear all the inhales and exhales of smoke he took prior, how it leaves a rich rasp in his voice.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to,” you just about cross your heart for him to emphasize the genuine ache to suck him off, already feeling that familiar throng of tingles set off again between your thighs.

“another time, it’ll be too much for you right now,” he unintentionally sounds patronizing and it rubs you the wrong way. you let out something that’s a more annoyed version of a scoff, folding your arms. “i can handle it farleigh, if you think i’ll be bad just be honest and don’t hide behind fake reasons.” a cloud of insecurity beginning to muddle your mind.

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile on his lips betrays his act of annoyance. “you and your pride,” he mutters under his breath, a veil of adoration lacing through it.

“don’t be a brat,” he murmurs with a luster of playfulness, “i just don’t want to overwhelm you with too much too soon,”

you frown, moving away strands of hair from his face, sighing. “is this okay then? too much?” you whisper hotly in his ear, leaning up into him. you reach beneath his dress pants and boxers, wrapping your hand around the thickness of him and hiding your surprise at how big he feels in your palm, and how you can barely wrap around him with your fingers.

he falters above you, groaning in the crook of your neck with whimpers of please. you take this opportunity to guide him a little further on his side, lightly pushing him onto his back. you tuck yourself into his side, his arm pulling you in and holding you close. you shove his pants down just enough to fully free his cock. arousal thrums all along your cunt once he’s freed from his pants. a twinge of gratefulness is in your gaze when you look back at farleigh’s low eyes. taking him down your throat admittedly would’ve been a difficult feat and you’re relieved he stopped you from doing so.

however you won’t admit to that, instead you wrap your hand around him, dragging your thumb around his tip, giggling when he winces with pleasure, curling into you.

you rest your chin on the top of his head, whimpering above him when he takes one of your nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around them as you jerk him off.

“fuck,” he bucks his hips into the warm curl of your palm, running his fingers across your ribs, tugging you in closer towards him. he moans your name like its a saving grace into the valley of your breasts, inhaling your sweet perfume deeply. “does that feel good?” you ask softly, genuinely, and he groans, nodding.

“j-just, squeeze me right there,” he swallows hard, wrapping his large hand around yours when you travel a little further up his cock. you nod attentively, taking note of everything he likes. “tell me what else makes you feel good,” you murmur through kisses, planting them across his cheekbone. he fucking whimpers into your dampening flesh and your clit throbs at the sound.

“i like when you touch me right here,” he admits breathlessly, guiding your thumb to his tip. you nod, taking longer strokes, tightening your slickened grip and glazing over his sensitive tip.

“just like that, fuck,” he groans, panting heavily at the rhythm you’ve developed together. “you’re so cute like this,” you giggle lightly in his ear, teeth grazing his ear teasingly. you pump your wrist a little faster, feeling cocky at the way he falls apart in your hold, completely and utterly at your mercy.

he can’t help the way he tries to fuck your hand, grinding his hips desperately, neck bared for you when he throws his head back. you slide your arm a little further underneath his neck, cradling him close to your side, using your free hand to scratch at his scalp. his hips jerk and he moans, leaning into your gentle touches.

your eyes fall onto the wretched kiss stain on his skin once again, clenching your jaw. you smear it off of him, the flare up of jealousy sanctioning something in you to start dragging your wrist up and down a little faster, squeezing him a little tighter. pride rises within you when you see how receptive he is to it, trembling in the confines of beneath your wings.

you kiss the top of his head as he defaults right back into the sanctuary of your chest. his stubble tickles your skin, and you grow fond of the sensation. your poor hole clenches around nothing when your eyes peer down to see his cock weep in your hand, precum leaking and dribbling down your knuckles, agonizing over the same desire you possess.

the wet sound eliciting from your hand and his cock is stirs a familiar buzz in your clit and you wonder what the tip of his cock would feel like rubbing against your clit. skin to skin. with each drag of your hand over him, you start to feel the ache settle back inside you, wishing your hand was your cunt taking him in. feeling each vein you feel right now but inside you, feeling his fat tip prod and hit right where your fingers could never reach. your fantasizing shows through the way you continue to jerk him off, growing hungrier and hungrier with each stroke.

“baby,” he groans into the thick air, as he lays helplessly beside you. “i wanna see you cum,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally cushioning his face with your breasts and the act alone almost has him cumming in your hand.

he grips your lower back, burying his face in your chest, his body going rigid and firm, his cock twitching in your hold. “shit i think i’m— fuck baby tell me i can cum,” he begs, pressing needy kisses across your chest. you nod, pulling at the back of his curls forcing him to look at you. “you can cum for me farleigh,” you pour your words out to him like a rich wine and it’s all he needs to let go.

he can’t stop his eyes from falling shut in a tight pinch. his body locks up, his mouth parts open to pant in the air, his neck still displayed for your teeth to sink into, hips sporadically fucking into your pumping wrist.

you quickly release him, ducking down to wrap your lips around his cock head. you hold back the smile that threatens to pluck the corner of your lips upward when he gasps loudly and whines your name with a pure churning ache.

you shut your eyes when he cums on your tongue, pleasantly surprised at the taste. he cums more than you would’ve expected but you take it all, eager to please him.

you gently lap at his tip, pushing your forearm on his stomach when he convulses from the sensitivity. “f-fuck, baby,” he breathes out, pulling you back up to him. he brings you down to his lips, guiding you onto your back when he kisses you.

it’s his turn to taste himself on your tongue and the thought of his cum gracing your mouth has his softening cock giving one last twitch. his hands run up and down your sides, savoring your skin and praying his hands and fingers memorize each curve and indent. “you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips. you peck him, feeling warm. “i know.” he smiles, pecking you back.

he collapses beside you, straightening out the charm from your necklace back to the center of your collarbones and despite everything that transpired between you two, the small action still makes you feel flushed.

“would it be okay if i slept with you in your bed tonight?” he asks quietly, anxiously. you nod, turning to look at him with a delicate smile that tells him you’re more than happy to have him stay with you. “i’d be upset if you didn’t.”

relief floods him, in return allowing him to abide by his instincts to scoot closer towards you. he curls into your side completely, long limbs overtaking you and intertwining you two until you feel like you’re one.

“night.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, unsure if he’s still allowed to plant a kiss there. you’re too sleepy to notice, content enough with being in his arms. “goodnight,” you repeat back softly, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

[pervertedreams]

farleigh fingering you during movie night.. yeah

fingering, afab!reader

minors dni. not proofread. feedback is kewl

at his core farleigh is competitive, and also a menace, and a degenerate. so it comes as no surprise when you feel his long fingers creep up your legs. it’s movie night at the cattons, as a way to make oliver feel comfortable and more at home. you’re sat on farleigh’s lap with venetia on the opposite side of the couch. everyone else is spread out or sat on the floor, most of you having some sort of blanket or cover.

its pitch black outside of the tv that flickers before you, and both you and farleigh are fully covered with a thin blanket. you’re pressed snug against his lap and chest, can feel the way his chest rises and falls against your back. you’re nearly a half hour into the movie when you feel him lift his hips up to readjust himself, just now noticing the stiff lump that strains against your upper thigh. your stomach flips at the realization of his hard on, it’s exactly what he wanted you to notice. you almost instinctively rock your hips against his lap, the friction of his pants pulling at his sensitive shaft almost sends him into a frenzy. thankfully to anybody else it just looks like the two of you are repositioning yourselves, maybe from being uncomfortable. little did they know. thankfully at this point james and elspeth have made their way up to their shared bedroom, and the tv volume was loud enough to stifle any moans that slipped up.

you could feel his warm breath repeatedly hit the nape of your neck, noticing his breath pattern slowing down. you can’t help but lean into the hot kisses he presses against the curve of your shoulder and neck. and this time it’s his turn to rut into the swell of your ass, thankful you decided to wear a thin pair of pajama shorts.

his hands have been slowly creeping their way up your smooth legs, almost giggling at the way his fingertips tickle up your thighs. his tip is annoyed and sensitive, looking for any kind of pleasure or release. you can feel his pre-cum grow a wet spot between the two of you, he nearly hisses at a particular way you move your hips, head falling into the crook of your neck to briefly hide. “are you gonna cum already. how embarrassing.” you’re trying your damnest to vocally tease him, but the crack in your voice tells him just how horny you truly are.

silently placing condescending kisses, you feel his knee nudge your thighs further apart and his finger flex around the waistband of your shorts. he’s able to get the down far enough where he can comfortably rub you panty-clad pussy. but to his surprise you’ve decided to free ball, bare pussy on display deliciously for him.

you can feel the vibration of his groan against your skin, fingers already slipping around your slick folds. “my god you’re pathetic. and i’m embarrassing?” he chuckles under his breath, and the two of you nearly have a heart attack when venetia lifts herself off the couch, letting it be known that the movie is boring her and she’s off to bed. the two of you so occupied in your space you’d completely forgot the circumstances you were in, now leaving you with felix and oliver who were thankful back faced to you on the floor.

after your heartbeats go down, you almost throw yourself forward when farleigh’s easily sinking two fingers into your slippery cunt. the pressure from his fingers stretching you out makes you sigh in full bliss, with droopy lids and your mouth salivating. your eyes flutter shut, head resting back on his shoulder when he brings his free hand to rub slow circles around your swollen clit. nub just slipping around his manicured digits. everything below the waist is pure ecstasy and he’s soaking it all up. at this point you had forgotten there was any competition, just allowing yourself to submit to his pleasure.

he’s knuckles deep, and desperately jerking himself against any part of you he can. at this point you’ve made yourself useful by pressing a firm hand against his clothed bulge, and it’s just enough for him to get off too. hot breaths coating over your skin as he slips closer and closer to his desperate release. he quickly makes eye contact with the bag of felix and oliver’s heads, making sure you haven’t rung any attention to yourselves. you nearly cry when farleigh pulls his fingers out, his soaked fingers glisten against the light from the tv and quickly takes a taste before sinking them right back where they belong. the slight sound of a lewd squelch rings in your ears, and you can hear him moan against your ear. “think you can rub your clit for me?” you blindly oblige, messily rubbing your own clit, whiny cause he obviously does it better. one arm wraps around your hips while the free hand sinks back into your spent hole. your lurch forward, silent moans and screwed eyes. farleigh’s pressing your hard against his pleading hard on, shameless rocking his hips. there’s a tiny creak coming from you two but your both to horny and dazed to care. we know farleigh loves a show anyways.

his teeth sink into the flesh of your back, fucking himself harder against you. “i need you to cum with me baby. god i’m close.” his please his choked out and desperate, the pressure blooming in his lower abdomen getting closer and closer to snapping. 

“deeper.” is all you can manage to squeak out, and he follows directions well. fingers hitting a spot that nearly makes you shout, fingers slapping to cover your mouth. you have a split moment where you take in your surrounding just to make sure the two of you aren’t caught and realize there’s only a few minutes left in the movie. in a slight panic you fuck yourself harder against farleigh, using all your senses to focus on cumming.

and almost in an instant, his grip on you tightens, sharp thrusts against you pushing him right over the edge. white flashes, and silent orgasms wash over the both of you, he completely soils himself. thick bulbs spilling from his tip and soiling his pants and your shorts. leaving a sticky substance to lie in between the two of you. you cum only moments after, and he’s doing his best not to let your walls push him out, pulsating and spasming around his fingers.

and finally when your high comes down, the two of you slump against each other, tired and spent.

hearts spike and bloom with surprise when oliver’s piercing eyes look over his shoulder whispering, “you’re so obvious.”

kinda rushed kinda sucked ass LMAO but i’m h word

[itsbuckytm]

Jealousy is the Devil's medicine / Farleigh & Oliver

summary: You and Farleigh were an inseparable pair, always together, forging a special connection that stirred jealousy among everyone at Oxford, particularly Oliver. Farleigh's unmistakable animosity towards Oliver made it evident that he wasn't one to share. However, unbeknownst to him, Oliver's entire plan not only aimed at claiming the mansion at Saltburn for himself but also securing you and Farleigh by his side.

ps: English isn't my first language, so I apologize in advance for any typos or grammar errors. Also, if you come across my work being copied or used without proper credit, please let me know, as it can be taken down or flagged. Enjoy! XOXO

Unlike Oliver, you were invited through Farleigh who assumed you two were together considering the close attachment he had seen at school. Only for him to learn quickly through Venetia that it was only a way to show off, make the students envy and the other girls in school deem themselves toward Farleigh let alone Felix just to have a place within the family. But in Oliver’s mind, he truly believed something more between the two of you. 

It was during your visit that you encountered Oliver, though you hadn't realized it then. Farleigh, suspecting his presence from the outset, was aware of the boy's connection with Felix. Despite any reservations, the prospect of staying in the mansion, witnessing the cousin and aunt's joy, and, most importantly, being content yourself, outweighed everything else. "Be prepared." Farleigh cautioned upon your arrival, hinting at Oliver's imminent appearance. "He may seem peculiar at first, but..." Leaning in closer, he reached for your waist, casting a disdainful glance at Oliver. "You'll get used to it.” He assured, though you could sense his tension as he struggled to maintain composure.

On that very evening, Oliver crossed paths with you. While Felix welcomed you with a grand entrance, Oliver found himself utterly captivated by your beauty. Being in the company of Felix's cousin was a sought-after privilege among those staying at Oxford. The Catton family, known for their beauty, boldness, and attraction to all shiny things, seemed to embody these traits effortlessly. "Oliver, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet Oliver." Felix introduced, and your hand graciously extended for a handshake, recalling the peculiar essence Farleigh had incessantly mentioned on your way to Saltburn. However, as Felix chuckled and excused the seemingly puzzled Ollie, you realized that the ease in Felix's demeanor contradicted Farleigh's warnings. "I suppose someone else was just as enchanted by their beauty as one could ever be." Felix remarked. “Don’t take it offense, mate.” Felix playfully alluding to Farleigh, who did not appreciate the jest. "No offense taken." Farleigh replied, making it clear he wasn't bothered, though his annoyance lingered beneath the surface. 

However, it wasn't until that particular night at Saltburn, precisely during the karaoke session, when it became your moment to shine. You took the spotlight to sing your favorite song, 'Evacuate the Dance Floor' by Cascada. With Venetia enthusiastically screaming from the top of her lungs in support. The crowd cheered, signaling to Farleigh that the spotlight was now all his to watch. Not just Oliver’s. After finishing his performance, a pronounced smirk adorned his face. Leaning in, just as you were about the get up, boldly captured your lips in a rough kiss that carried the faint taste of cigarettes. His arm tightly encircled your waist, creating an unmistakable tension that left Oliver, who had been sitting beside you throughout the night, visibly unsettled. In Farleigh's eyes, he reveled in every pleasure derived from the situation. 

"Cheer on, Y/N!" He exclaimed in a tone that had consistently grated on Oliver's nerves throughout his visit. Despite Felix's advice not to let it bother him, Oliver found it hard to avoid being irked by his cousin. "Well..." Farleigh continued as he casually settled onto the couch next to Oliver, who nodded uncomfortably upon realizing he was unexpectedly entangled in Felix's antics. "I happened to notice you spent some intimate time with Venetia last night.” He stated so confidently, prompting Oliver to shift his gaze uncomfortably between him and you. Succumbing to Farleigh’s demand. "No. No. No looking." Accompanied by a mischievous smile that Oliver had grown accustomed to. "She's not available tonight." Farleigh bodly declared, assuming more than Oliver was willing to admit. In truth, during his first week of the stay, Oliver had exchanged a few glances with you while engrossed in a book during breakfast. Fortunately, Farleigh remained oblivious to the situation, adding an element of envy to the desire to connect with you on a deeper level, to experience the passion that seemed to radiate from them. 

Their gazes locked the moment Farleigh attempted, quite unsuccessfully in Oliver's eyes, to assert dominance. The influence of alcohol seemed to have taken a toll on Farleigh, adding an extra layer of playfulness to his demeanor, making it all the more enticing. This was especially true when Farleigh found himself sharing the same space with Oliver. After all, who could resist such irresistible charm?

“Don’t make me change the subject. I did witnessed your encounter with Venetia the night before.” Farleigh confessed, his eyes shifting from Oliver's gaze to his overall demeanor as he sought to scrutinize the young man before him. Oliver, once a stranger, now seemed to be Felix's plaything and, perhaps, something more to Farleigh's satisfaction.

Oliver's retort was a straightforward admission. "And I saw you fucked Y/N." However, as soon as your voice resonated in his mind, his attention shifted entirely to you. He became captivated by the way your hips seemed to dance to the rhythm, your voice carrying a slight hint of tipsiness each time you sang. This melodic scene unfolded amid Felix's and Venetia's continuous cheerfulness. It was at this point that Farleigh also directed his gaze toward you, sensing a demeanor that, if he could, he would have preferred to make vanish. He wished you could be erased from Oliver's thoughts altogether. Overall, Farleigh couldn't escape the pangs of jealousy. His disdain heightened, particularly when others complimented or spoke about what he considered his possessions, especially you. In response to Oliver's revelation, he coldly affirmed. "Yes, I did."

“And she enjoyed every bits of it. Made her barely able to walk the very next day. Which to my surprise you did took notice of it pretty well at brunch. Considering the fact that your focus was merely on Venetia. Poor thing, what will she say when she will learn that you prefer Y/N?” Farleigh, with his sly smile, manipulated the situation knowingly, almost as unsettling as Oliver's overall obsession with the rest of the people in the room. You had just finished your song when Oliver found himself on the defensive. As you caught your breath, Farleigh, with a pleased smile, applauded your performance, his fingers daringly reaching for your skin. He lingered to touch, aiming to make Oliver uncomfortable once again. Oblivious to Farleigh's intentions, you laughed at his affection and smiled at Oliver—a smile he would not easily forget.

"Farleigh and Oliver in the same space? My god, I'd pay for front-row seats just to witness it." You playfully teased, finding amusement in the situation as Farleigh's attention stayed fixated on the crook of your neck, his teeth leaving unmistakable markings on your skin. "Just wanted to make him comfortable.” Farleigh whispered, his breath growing heavier, laden with a desire for attention, hunger, and passion—things he knew Oliver would not receive and that Farleigh relished in denying him.

"How about." Farleigh suggested, turning to face you, diverting his attention from the tempting prospect of ravishing you right then and there. "We go to my room and have a little... fun?" Your quick nod indicated your willingness to succumb to his influence. With the grace of an eagle, Farleigh scooped you into a bridal style, eliciting a few giggles from you. He excused himself to Oliver, citing some business to attend to, leaving Oliver completely disoriented and lifeless.

It wasn't long before Oliver found himself alone, prompting Felix to notice the absence of both his cousin and you. Intrigued, Felix couldn't resist asking about your whereabouts. Uncomfortably, Oliver replied. "She went with Farleigh. Apparently, they had business to attend to." Nervously nibbling on his fingers. Felix smiled and chuckled, not surprised that it involved Farleigh. If there was one constant about you two, besides your presence, it was the likelihood of engaging in intimate activities whenever an opportunity presented itself.

"Well, if you happen to come across them, let Y/N know that Venetia wants to return her coat in the morning. If you get the chance, that is. Alright, mate, see you tomorrow." Felix said, playfully ruffling Oliver's hair and giving him a hug before heading to bed. In reality, with everyone else in various states of inebriation, Oliver had different plans in mind.

Oliver had watched everything. From a far distance of course. How your back would lean backward when Farleigh’s lips where all over your body, from almost close to peck your thighs. How he would grip his fingers to your arse and reaching down to eat you out, hearing your moans and your fingers to grip his hair. An intimacy both of you enjoyed so much, that many couldn’t understand why it was so hard for the two of you to confess your love. Even Oliver didn’t understood that. 

Only a few hours had passed since your encounters, and you had peacefully slept in Farleigh's bedroom when Oliver entered. Farleigh's arms were securely wrapped around you, and as Oliver, shirtless, crawled into bed just as he had seen you with Farleigh, the roles were reversed this time. Oliver was determined to set things straight, willing to gain trust for his calculated plan. Just before Farleigh could turn to face the window, Oliver seized him by the shoulders, rendering him completely helpless. "Wha—" Farleigh attempted to speak, but he was cut off when Oliver, this time, echoed the same words Farleigh had uttered to him earlier that night. "No. No. No... She is mine tonight. Or... I should say, you two are mine."

"You're going to behave, just like she will." Oliver's voice took on an intimate tone, carrying the weight of a truthful confession. Farleigh found himself facing a side of Oliver he couldn't even recognize at this point. The urge to punch Oliver's face surged within him, yet he was rendered powerless. He wished he could warn you to run, but he was ensnared in Oliver's trap. Now, you, too, had become part of his intricate scheme. "Say it." Oliver repeated, demanding compliance.

"I am going to behave." Farleigh uttered, his tone tinged with fear—for you and not just for himself. "And Y/N?" Oliver inquired, a teasing edge to his voice that made Farleigh feel sick to his stomach. Farleigh attempted to speak up in your defense, but Oliver hushed him with a finger, casually glancing at your sleeping form. In result to nod for your sake. “She will to.” He said but…with fear this time. A pleasing change in Oliver. As a desire not only to kiss you tonight but also to kiss Farleigh. Since that night, you belonged not just to Farleigh but also to Oliver, a package deal that was initially confronted behind closed doors, only to have all three of you together by your side. With no way out. After all, Oliver explicitly conveyed the notion that jealousy was indeed the Devil's most potent remedy.

[backtothefanfiction]

Summer’s at Saltburn Masterlist

A range of quick fics and imagines based on the idea of you living at Saltburn with the Catton’s and having an on again, off again relationship with Felix.

Naughtier fics are marked *🔞

(I am having some trouble linking posts in app have noted chapter titles still so you can search in blog until I can link. All posts are tagged with #summers at saltburn for easy finding too.)

—————-////————————

Nicknames

Sleeping at Saltburn: Your Room

Sleeping at Saltburn: Felix’s Room

Nightmares

Crown

Well This Is Awkward

Drunk Tennis

The Pool 🔞

[m-oddinsdottir]

🍒☀️💋.

HERS

Venetia Catton x fem!reader

Summary: another normal summer at Saltburn, however, this time the secret can’t be kept anymore.

Warning(s): oliver quick

Note: I just can’t believe no one has made a Venetia one shot yet

A message appeared on the screen of your phone, the blue light that radiated from it brightened up the frown in your face as your lips pressed together in a thin line. «Don’t get mad, love. But this Ollie you told me about, he’s here.» You couldn’t help but scoff, so, in the end, Felix did invite him regardless of yours and Farleigh’s complaints.

One of your hands passed through your eyes for a second trying to cover your sight from the bothering light. Then, you texted a quick response. «Fucking Felix. I’m almost there.»

You weren’t the best of friends with Oliver, at first, you tried to be nice, you were keen on making new friends and adding more variety into your group. However, there was something off about him; sometimes, you had caught him staring at you through the distance which wouldn’t be weird if he didn’t have that oddness in his eyes, that creepiness, that… You couldn’t even describe it.

So, of course, you told Venetia who reassured you saying that it was probably you being paranoid. Which would be coherent due to your tendency of freaking out in the most insignificant situations. If it weren’t for Farleigh, who thought exactly the same, maybe not for the creepy part but he also knew he didn’t particularly enjoy Oliver Quick’s presence.

Felix, on the other hand, seemed to have become so close to him in only a few months. It wasn’t a secret that Felix attracted people, not only due to his appearance but also because of his personality. He was extroverted, had a great sense of humor and on top of that he was kind, maybe too much sometimes. This last trait was the reason why he had invited Oliver “Er… It’s just that his father has died” You remember him explaining to you why it wouldn’t be just you four that summer which sounded like pity.

Venetia usually invited you to spend each summer vacation in the manor as you couldn’t visit your family because of them living too far away. You just couldn’t afford the trip. But of course that wasn’t the only reason why, the box dyed blonde and you had been dating for almost two years now. It all started when Felix invited you to a party in Saltburn where you met his parents and, specially, where you met his sister. It was an instant connection, you remember being in one of Saltburn’s multiple balconies when she appeared, her long gown shining under the moonlight and the cigarette hanging from her lips “And you are…?” She had asked uninterested “I can think about a tone of adjectives but I will let you discover them for yourself” Then, you told her your name and the rest was history.

Despite this, nobody knew. Not your friends in college, neither Elspeth nor Sir James. The only ones that knew were Far and Felix, however it was hard not to when you two were all over each other during the summer.

But now, with Oliver also there… He couldn’t know, if he did everyone would also do and Venetia and you were just not ready for it. More you than Venetia, after all you didn’t want everyone to think that you were with her just for her family’s money. Everyone would have thought that as you had never told anyone you were also interested in girls neither have you ever shown it as your whole dating history was filled with guys. To be honest, you didn’t even know it yourself until you met her.

Soon, you arrived at Saltburn. A soft smile was placed in your lips trying to act as if there was nothing wrong by the time you entered the place. Duncan, the butler, welcomed you with his usual seriousness and your smile grew due to the sight of a familiar face.

"You know we will carry your luggage, my lady. There’s no need to carry them yourself.” He said while a few other workers grabbed the bags from your hands.

“And as always you know I don’t like to be a burden.”

Duncan shook his head, a complicity look in his eyes. “A guest like you would never be.”

A laugh escaped from your chest and then you rolled your eyes playfully. “Lord, that’s for sure.”

Duncan waited for your luggages to be carried away before speaking again. “Let me escort you to the dining room, the Catton’s are having lunch.”

You raised an eyebrow as you started to walk with the main butler. “Just the Cattons?”

“I’m afraid not.” He answered so a sight was forced to leave your lips.

With the company of Duncan, you entered the dining room finding there the whole family… and Oliver. You restrained from rolling your eyes.

“Darling! You’re finally here.” Elspeth stood up to greet you, she hugged you and then held your cheeks with affection “How can it be that you get prettier every summer?”

“It’s just you Elspeth who sees me with loving eyes. And I should ask the same for you!” The blonde smiled as a response to the compliment before stepping away from you. “Oh, darling” The oldest woman laughed as you approached the rest of the family members.

Sir James welcomed you with a big smile in his face as you gently squeezed his shoulder. Then you walked towards Farleigh, hugging him from behind as you surrounded his shoulders with your arms placing a kiss in his cheek. “Finally, you’re here. I couldn’t bare it any longer” He murmured so you laughed “Don’t worry, we will team up”

Then you approached Felix and your fingers gently brushed through his long hair under the eyes of Oliver. Felix looked up with a pout in his lips. “I’m sorry. I recall what you said but…” He said in a sight before you interrupted him “There’s no need to, it will still be a great summer. I’m sure.”

Lastly, you eagerly walked towards Venetia who was waiting with a tempting smile on her dark lips. Her big eyes travelled through your body up and down as you tried to cover the excitement held in your body to finally have her in your arms.

You hugged her from behind, burying your face in the hollow of her neck. Breathing in her scent, your lips pressed a soft kiss in her pale skin being covered from her parent’s eyes thanks to her long hair. “I missed you” You just whispered before stepping away from her.

“I missed you too” She whispered back.

The moment lingered for a few seconds in time as you looked into each other’s eyes, despite this it was soon broken apart by another voice. A new voice, a voice that didn’t belong there.

“That was it? I was expecting something more… enthusiastic.” Oliver’s voice, of course it was him talking. You stood up, stepping away from Venetia as your eyes locked into his’.

“What do you mean Ollie?” A fake smile was placed on your lips as you turned around slowly to look at Felix, scared that he could have told him something but he looked as confused as you.

“Well, darling, if I haven’t seen someone so dear to me in such a time I would be more…” He spoke with innocence in his voice making a frown appear in your face “I don’t think you have a say in how I greet this family”

Oliver smiled while tilting his head, he had a confused expression as he looked around facing the reactions of the other members. “Not this family but your girlfriend…”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. How could he know? You looked at Felix dead in the eyes, maybe he had told him while being drunk. That was the only reasonable explanation, Farleigh couldn’t have told him anything and it was shown in the way he stood up, hands clenching and unclenching under the table “What the hell Ollie?!” Felix spoke more loudly than the tone he would usually speak in.

The room suddenly stopped before spinning around, you heard Elspeth call your name but you couldn’t hear any of the words that slipped from her lips. Venetia looked at you, she was worried, you could sense it but you were unable to speak or even move.

“What? I… I thought everyone knew” Oliver looked confused and you heard Farleigh’s voice filled with anger afterwards “Clearly not everyone did! But how do you…?” His question was soon answered by the boy “I was in the bathroom when Felix was talking to you about it… I just overheard it but it’s not a big deal, right?”

Once again, you looked at Felix whose eyes darted around the room in a mixture of confusion and worry. Then, you stormed out of that place leaving behind the voice of Elspeth calling your name and a fast trace of footsteps following you.

You walked towards the room you were usually assigned before someone stopped you grabbing your wrist and making you turn around. Encountering Venetia’s eyes, a shaky sight left your lips by the same time your hands began to shake. “I didn’t… I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Venetia smiled as she placed a rebel strand of hair behind your ear, her hand cupping your face as you moved yourself closer to her trying to calm down. You wrapped your arms around her waist, moving your head from her hands to hide it in her neck.

“Love… It’s alright. My parents they won’t be mad, I’m sure they even suspected it.” At a slowly pace, her fingers traveled through your back in a known pattern that made you sigh again. “I… It’s just, fucking Ollie”

“Yeah” She laughed softly stepping away slightly to look into your eyes “Fucking Ollie”

Venetia caught a glimpse of your lips before meeting them in the halfway of the path towards your room and also your heart. Each time you were with her, every single caress, every hug, every kiss, it just contributed to her sticking into you even deeper. Your foreheads pressed together after the kiss, making your even breathing mix with hers and for a moment you were unable to open your eyes. You just wanted to stay in her arms forever.

sorry if there’s any grammatical mistake or similars, I haven’t written in english for such a long time lol

pt. 2??

[grussellgirl]

— Choose

farleigh start x f!reader

warnings: smut. handjob. farleigh (he is just so beautiful)

note: maybe I'm gonna translate this to english, but I'm lazy. You can find me also on Wattpad as grussellgirl

"¿Bromeas?" chillaste con una expresión de incredulidad ante la declaración del chico sentado junto a tí.

Tu amiga Venetia te había invitado a Saltburn para pasar el verano, y en cuanto conociste a su primo Farleigh conectaron de inmediato, llevándose bien y haciendo una buena amistad, una de esas en donde el coqueteo es constante y las respuestas deben ser agudas.

"¿Matarías a Ben Whishaw pero te cogerías a Hugh Jackman?" negaste con la cabeza.

Habían estado jugando a 'coger, casar y matar' desde que el karaoke había sido acaparado por uno de los Henry, y a pesar de que a ustedes les parecía tedioso, al resto parecía encantarle, ya que aplaudían y coreaban las canciones, atentos a la actuación del hombre. Pero tú discusión con Farleigh era mucho más entretenida, y el sillón empotrado en una esquina del salón era mucho más cómodo.

"¿Entonces tú qué harías?" resopló, mirándote a los ojos. "Es difícil decidir con las opciones que me diste".

"No es difícil. Yo me casaría con Halle..." respondiste decidía y él asintió ya que había respondido lo mismo. "...me caso con Ben y mato a Hugh"

"No" negó Farleigh con la cabeza, golpeando tu rodilla con su pierna. Tú lo miraste mal, pero él ignoró tu expresión.

"Ya, tu turno" apuraste, mientras veías a Henry comenzar otra canción con los vitores de todos animándole. Farleigh pensó por un momento, pero su rostro pronto se iluminó con picardía y la sonrisa en su rostro te mantuvo alerta.

"Felix, Venetia y yo" murmuró mirándote a los ojos, tan cerca de tu rostro que sentiste cómo su aliento te hacía cosquillas en tu mejilla.

"Fácil" declaraste y él alzó las cejas en sorpresa. "Follo con Venetia, mato a Felix y me caso contigo".

"No" negó de nuevo con la cabeza, apartando su mirada de la tuya, soltando un suspiro por la decepción.

"¿Qué?" reíste por su reacción. Él se dedicó a ver el concierto de Henry, gritando y aplaudiendo para animarlo. Le habías dado en su ego. Lo llamaste por su nombre, pero él te ignoró, coreando la canción, hasta que se te ocurrió colocar tu mano en su muslo, subiéndola peligrosamente cerca de su entrepierna sólo para bajarla de nuevo, lo cual funcionó, ya que giró su rostro de nuevo para mirarte.

"¿Por qué no coges conmigo?" preguntó en un susurro, mirando tus labios.

"Me estoy casando contigo, es obvio que vamos a follar a diario" dijiste obvia muy cerca de sus labios y el chico se movió en su lugar, tratando de acomodar su pantalón, el cual de pronto le resultaba apretado. "¿Feliz?"

"No" sentenció, alternando su mirada de tus ojos a tus labios. Se acercó a tu rostro, dispuesto a besarte, pero justo cuando sus labios se rozaron, te apartaste de él, negando con la cabeza. Él abrió la boca para decir algo, pero lo único que salió de sus labios fue un suspiro pesado al sentir tus dedos acariciar su creciente miembro sobre su ropa. Sus caderas se elevaron contra tu mano en busca de una mayor estimulación, pero tú dejaste de tocarlo. "No me dejes así" pidió, tomando tu mano y guiándola de regreso a su erección.

"¿Tan urgido estás?" reíste bajo mientras movía tu mano contra su dureza. Miraste a tu alrededor, asegurándote de que nadie viera lo que estaba por venir. La esquina en donde estaban estaba poco iluminaba, por lo que quizá no verían mucho, además, Henry había comenzado a cantar SexyBack y todos estaban más atentos a él que cualquier otra cosa.

Te deshiciste del agarre del chico y él te miró suplicante. "Si nos atrapan será tu culpa" le advertiste antes de bajar el cierre de su pantalón, para después escupir en tu mano, haciéndolo jadear ante la imagen. Metiste tu mano en su cremallera y te abriste paso a través de su ropa interior hasta su miembro, tomándolo en tu mano, comenzando a subir y bajar. La respiración de Farleigh se volvió pesada, tratando de mantener sus jadeos por lo bajo.

Su miembro estaba completamente duro, y el líquido preseminal ayudaba a lubricarlo, permitiéndote trabajar. Cuando comenzaste a estimular la punta, Farleigh mordió su labio inferior, cerrando sus ojos y echando su cabeza hacia atrás, dejándola caer en el respaldo del sofá. Sonreiste para tí misma y volviste a tomar su miembro desde la base, subiéndola por su longitud al mismo tiempo que lo apretabas un poco. Aumentaste la velocidad y de pronto le era casi imposible contener los sonidos que amenazaban con salir de su boca. Sentiste cómo su cuerpo se tensó y su mano derecha se aferró al brazo del sofá mientras que la otra se posó en tu pierna.

"Más rápido" murmuró con los ojos aún cerrados y su pelvis se elevó un par de veces contra tu mano por reflejo. Tú hiciste caso, aumentando la velocidad de tu movimiento, acercándolo cada vez más al clímax. Su abdomen se tensó y abrió la boca, con su nariz arrugada y sus ojos cerrados con fuerza, y sin advertencia se corrió en tu mano con un gruñido que se perdió entre los aplausos de todos. Tu mano siguió bombeando su miembro mientras su semen terminaba de salir por completo, prolongando su placer un poco más.

Abrió los ojos y soltó un suspiro, tratando de recuperar la respiración. Tú sacaste tu mano de su ropa, manchada con su semilla y te limpiaste en un abrigo que estaba junto a tí. Farleigh te miró con una sonrisa divertida y subió su cremallera.

"Ahora debo limpiar tu desastre" susurró contra tus labios antes de ponerse de pie y salir de ahí directo al baño.

Miraste alrededor de la sala y notaste a Felix observándote con una copa en su mano. Cuando sus ojos se encontraron te dedicó una sonrisa juguetona, alzó su copa a manera de brindis y bebió el contenido de un sólo trago. Notaste el bulto en su entrepierna y te preguntaste si había visto tu momento con su primo.

[manicpixiefelix]

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

Part 12.

Summary: Reuniting with Venetia was always an interesting experience. Many people - everyone else who lives at Saltburn included - wonder why you put up with the way she speaks to you, the way she treats you. You wonder how they can't see that it's so much more than that.

{ 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: suggestive themes, implied pseudo-incest, nonsexual intimacy with Venetia but no smut

A/N: 3644 words. i know i said there's be ollie this chapter, but i needed to set up a few more things around the house; specifically venetia and what her whole deal is with the reader. i love her, she breaks my entire heart. i know i should have edited this one but oh well, here, eat up friends.

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

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Never once has Venetia been gentle with the way she speaks to you; she is sharp lines and bitter tongues and laughs and moans that edge on jagged. Nothing about her seems capable of regarding you, or sometimes even treating you, with gentleness, yet she demands it from you in everything you do.

She picks you apart the moment she sees you again, like nails over every inch of your being she pries apart who you've become in her absence, but ends it all by telling you that you're still frustratingly attractive.

"Thought that would change."

"Do you think that every time?"

"Prepare for the worst and hope for the best," she sighs with a wry smile.

"My potential descent into unattractiveness is... hope?"

"Preparing, obviously; I'm very fond of you, I don't hope you get ugly," obviously, says her eye roll. Its a compliment, says her eye roll.

Still, you know Venetia well enough, know her bitter tongue belies a sweetness she could never speak out loud.

All you'd come down in is your bathers, and an old, large button down that Felix liked to swan around the house in. Which Venetia insists you leave on, lest you get yourself burnt, though you roll your eyes and shrug it off anyways, draping it over the parasol-protected banana lounge that Venetia had claimed with her towel. Venetia herself looks like something out of countless fantasies, and even more Summer magazine centre folds, the sequins of her silver bikini shining in the sunlight.

Venetia is a shiny, pretty thing, eye catching; large sunglasses and shiny lip gloss and a body that glows and shines with what you hope is sunscreen but know is just moisturiser and tanning oil. Untouched by anything but the sun and herself on this searing afternoon, wanting and waiting for her entertainment, for you.

Venetia's gentleness lives and dies in her desires, in the way she wants. Her needs, her demands are always met, but her wants she'll never be able to put to words. So you learned to figure her out for yourself; if she loves you for it, she'll never say it out loud.

Wading into the water, towards the floating chair she's so elegantly draped herself across, you keep your hands above the water's surface, keep them dry as you reach her. With every step her smile grows wider, and you place your hand on her ankle, hand gliding up her warm leg in casual greeting. Calf, knee, thigh, soft and warm and dry, and your hand comes to rest on her belly, your fingers splayed out, cooler than her sun-soaked skin, and she giggles. The anticipation makes her giddy. Her hand comes to rest on yours, though never to take your hand; she wants to be touched more than she wants to hold, that's why when she shifts carefully on her buoyant seat, she makes sure that it's not so drastic that you'd have to move your hand from her skin.

"You kept me waiting," already there's a hint of faux disapproval on her tongue when she greets you properly, or as properly as you were going to get from her. Instead of dignifying that with a real response, you roll your eyes, and lean in to kiss her on the cheek. Giving a huff at your non-answer, she does however take your face in her free hand before you can pull away, giving you a kiss on the cheek in response.

"Hello to you too, Ven," you half laugh, but she's still holding your face, holding you close, for longer than was necessary. Letting you go, she lifts her glasses with that same hand to finally get a proper look at you. A strange, accusatory glimmer there amongst the mirth and mischief.

"I thought you kept me waiting because you were freshening up," it almost sounds betrayed, settling the glasses on top of her head. How could she have known that kind of thing? Why would she care if you hadn't?

"Didn't think it would matter; I was getting in the pool anyways," you pointed out as nonchalantly as possible, but she just reiterated that you'd kept her waiting, like it was the end of the world. Something about her suddenly intrigued gaze had you growing flustered, wondering what it was about you that had her so incensed.

In the next instance, she's slid from her seat and into the water beside you without hesitation. There's now something determined in her eyes when she takes your face in both hands, kissing you. Venetia has always been direct, has always taken for granted that you'd bend to her whims in most instances. Like this one. Your arms wind around her as if on instinct. There's nothing sweet about it, nipping at your lips insistently, tongue in your mouth -

"Oh my god," she pulls back, eyes wide with what you're pretty sure is disbelief, like she's come to an urgent realisation.

"It's so good to be home; how have you been lately?" You ask breathlessly, deeply confused about her attitude and trying to give her a hint that even for her this is a strange greeting. But then her lips are on yours again, pulling you in, all teeth and tongues and gasping furiously into your mouth. Somewhere in all of this, you pull her close, hands beneath her thighs and letting her wrap her legs around you under the water.

"It hasn't even been an hour!" She cries this time when she pulls back from you, looking almost like she's on the verge of laughter or perhaps screaming, "wash your mouth out! What is wrong with you?" Despite the fact that she'd just given you the kind of kiss that would put Hollywood to shame. Twice.

"Not drinking chlorine for you, Ven," you tell her, amused, while still holding her secure against you. Displeased with your answer, she pushes away from your chest with both hands, and you let her go, let her splash you as she makes a face.

"Don't drink it, christ," she rolls her eyes, as if she believes you're being wilfully stupid about the whole thing.

"Then I'll just taste like chlorine," you pointed out, wading over to her. The answering smile you get is particularly mean.

"I'd rather you taste like chlorine than Felix," despite all the questions and implications her disdainful words raise, you match her energy, smiling back with a blithe confidence as you approach her once more.

"You sure you mean that, Vennie?"

Immediately, Venetia is scarlet, spluttering, playing exceptionally well at being horrified by your implications, if not for the ease with which she lets herself get wrapped up in you once more.

"You're gross, you're awfully gross, you both are. I can't believe -" she tells you, looks in your eyes like she's determined to make you believe it, "I'll wash your mouth out myself," she threatens, and you nod while not trying particularly hard to hide your amusement. With a childlike scowl she dips herself mostly underwater, still encircled loosely by your arms, scowling at you all the while. Like a little, blonde crocodile, nose and eyes making sure you're watching her every move, taking her and her threat seriously.

When she surfaces, cheeks puffed out and presumably filled with water, you have to let her go for how hard your laughing. Then the chase is on.

The first mouthful of water she loses to her own laughter, and shouting at you to stop trying to get away, while you thrash through the length of the pool. Every so often she almost catches you, but you splash her and wriggle free and she shrieks with faux offense. Until she's got you pinned to the side of the pool, water just up past your waist, and a devilish look of triumph in her eyes.

At first she taps her lips expectantly. Of course her mouth is once again full to bursting with pool water. Shaking your head adamantly, you try and lean away, still faintly laughing, but Venetia changes tact.

Instead of caging you against the side, she carefully wraps her arms around your neck, gaze turning soft and fond and amused as she leans in. You know what she's doing, but you let her have it this time.

Winding your arms around her waist, you let her shotgun a mouthful of pool water into your mouth, and try not to laugh to keep it from going down your airways or up your nose. Venetia, in triumph, the moment she knows the water is in your mouth, she pulls back and clamps her hand over your mouth, looking altogether too proud of herself.

Drenched, beautiful, and grinning from ear to ear, the look in her eyes betrays just how into you, or at the very least into this moment, she is.

"Wash your mouth out before you come anywhere near me next time," she orders in a firm whisper that's definitely doing more for you than you'd like to admit. Possibly for Venetia too, considering how she's unable to wipe the smile off of her own face, "you filthy, little doggie."

No-one, maybe not even Felix, is ever allowed to find out how quickly those words have you all but melting at her command. The fight drains from you, and God all you want is to be good, good, good. Judging by Venetia's pleased reaction, she can feel the moment you start to submit, can probably see it in your eyes. Her hand stays over your mouth until she's satisfied you've swished the water around enough, and you spit the water back out to the side, instead of at her like you'd been intending to before she'd called you out.

"Can't believe you said that to me, really, Y/N," she sighed, shaking her head. Neither of you moved; you flush against the side of the pool, and Venetia pressed flush to you.

"So you're the only one who can say things in the hopes of getting manhandled?" Giving a sheepish grin, even if you don't fully believe what you're saying, there's a semblance of self-satisfaction when Venetia gives in. She grabs your chin and pulls you in for one more rough kiss, pressing against you, trapping you in this moment. A rare instance in which she gives you what she thinks you want.

But some of your bite is coming back.

"So does the chlorine taste better?" You smirked. Immediately she splashes you with a wave of water to the face. By the time you've spluttered through a recovery, she's halfway to the stairs.

"I hate you," is not a real answer to the question, but that's okay, you weren't really looking for one as much as you had been looking to rile her up, "and you've made me all wet - shut it -" she warns, cutting off the crude joke you both knew you were about to make, as she starts up the pool stairs with determination, "and you've ruined my beautiful afternoon plans."

Waiting at the top of the stairs, she turns back to you, simply watching her with a grin, giving you an impatient gesture. Your smile widens, but still, you obligingly follow her.

Even while mad at you, Venetia was a creature of predictable desires. Very rarely did her frustration with you outweigh the benefit of your company to her, and now was no different. Drying yourselves off with her towel, the only one either of you had brought down, it seems her mood is already lightening once more, letting you know that she'd gotten her hands on the latest Harry Potter novel. When she pulls the book out from where she'd stashed it under the long lounge, she picks up Felix's shirt and tosses it to you.

You know to put it on, just like you know not to comment on it.

Without asking, nor having to be asked, you settle yourself on the lounge chair and insistently pat the space beside you; almost enough for Venetia.

"Let me read over your shoulder," an incredibly flimsy excuse that you both see through, but she still settles herself on the lounge chair too. There's not quite enough room, so you're almost on your side, arm around Venetia's shoulders, head resting against hers, pressed up against her whole side. Legs curled up together, your other hand once more comes to rest on her lower belly, casually intimate, warm, tips of your fingers just barely tucked into her bikini bottoms. You're not reading; your face pressed so close to her's is proof enough of that.

"Your eyelashes are tickling my cheek," in these moments she sounds so much younger than she is. The peel of laughter that rings out from her as you nuzzle your face further against her cheek, pointedly fluttering your eyelashes, it reminds you of the way she'd laugh at the sleepovers the two of you shared in the first few years of meeting each other.

And you settle back down, angling your face only slightly to keep your lashes from bothering her, and rub faint circles against the soft skin of her stomach with your thumb. Venetia opens her book, and finally relaxes.

It's been a long time since you'd seen Venetia fully relax around anyone who wasn't you. You wonder if anyone else has noticed, has wondered, has thought to figure out the how and why of the girl beside you. Contrary to popular belief, it's been a long time since Venetia's actually sought you out for sex. Constant lewd flirting and suggestive texts aside.

So much of Venetia's self worth was tied to being sexually attractive. Pretty and fashionable and fuckable. Needed biblically, carnally. Pick up, use, put down. There was such a thrill in being wanted that it took her too long to understand why she was hollow; don't let me go felt selfish for her to even think. But you'd learned to read through the things she leaves unsaid.

Sex she could get anywhere, but the touch-starved Venetia knew you understood the truth of what she wants. It's why she treated you like furniture, like she was entitled to your personal space.

You often find yourself wondering if Venetia only touches you in ways she wishes she could touch Felix. More casually than even now, and many still would consider their relationship too close. You are kind and loving and playful and a wonderful friend, but you are nothing of real substance to her; you are a warm body and the closest she can be to Felix half the time.

For anyone else it would be too hot for this kind of proximity, but never for Venetia. So you drown in the heat of her skin pressed against hers, and let yourself drift asleep in the peaceful afternoon.

It's a sleep so peaceful that you don't even properly wake when her soft chatter infects your hazy mind. Farleigh's voice drifts through your head and this haze -

"- no-one tells me anything," you can hear Venetia pouting without even opening your eyes. Her book must be closed because she's got a hand on your thigh, bringing your leg further over her.

"Of course they don't, you should have seen both of them earlier when I accidentally implied -"

"Careful, Farleigh," you yawned, carefully snuggling further against Venetia. The pair are quiet for a few long seconds, but your eyes remained closed.

"See what I mean?" Farleigh eventually breaks the rather tense silence with a wry, pointed comment.

"Can't believe you didn't tell me we were having a guest," Venetia sounds like she's sulking, but you just make a noncommittal hum in the back of your throat, "feeling possessive of our impending Mister Quick, are you, pet?" And you feel her fingers gentle on your cheek, taking your face in her hand and lifting you to look her in the eyes. Cracking your eyes open, you level a flat gaze at her. Also, you realise how long you must have been sleeping; it's sunset.

"Simply giving you space to form your own opinions of him, Ven," you told her, gaze sliding pointedly to Farleigh, who had splayed himself out on the opposing lounge chair. He stuck his tongue out at you.

"I'm a big girl, pet; I just want to know what you think, what I should expect."

God, the Catton siblings are phenomenal at playing innocent in a way that's completely and utterly unconvincing.

Venetia's still holding your face close, gaze sharp and demanding an answer. Maybe you should untangle yourself from her, from this conversation, but something about being around her always made you want to play along, even if out of spite.

"I think it doesn't matter what I say," you tell her softly, speaking with an honesty you don't often allow yourself around most of the Cattons, or even Farleigh, "nor do I think it matters what Farleigh says, no matter how cruel he is about Ollie," everything about your tone, your expression, the way your grip on her retracts as much as you're able, it comes as a surprise to her, and judging by your peripheries, Farleigh too, "you're going to want him, adore him; Oliver is unconventionally wonderful, and you are Venetia Catton."

"The actual fuck do you mean by that?" She pulls away, struggling to her feet with a scowl, and you relax fully into the spot she'd just abandoned. By this time you smile up at her, warm, adoring.

"I mean it is in your nature to love," it's not entirely a lie, but Venetia only sees the truth in it, the fondness. Her irritation softens, "I mean no opinion will ever matter above yours, and I know you, Ven; you're hardwired into your own brand of love at first sight." It's an incredibly, meticulously diplomatic cover for your earlier, far harsher statement. Farleigh's watching you like you're a magician before his very eyes; Venetia, thankfully, doesn't look at him.

Sitting back down gingerly on the edge of the lounge, she gives into your sweet words when you softly tell her you love her. She doesn't say it back - she never will - but she kisses you on the forehead before standing again.

"Almost thought you were being a bitch again," she tells you loftily, wrapping her towel around her waist like a skirt, cocking her hip, "and I've about had it up to here with you and your -"

"Yapping?" You supplied, playing up the canine allegations just to see the way she fails the hide the quirk of her lips, the dead give away that she's desperate to smile.

"Yapping, exactly." And she turns swiftly on her heel, trying her best to storm away. When you call out that you'll see her at dinner, she flips you off. If you look to Farleigh, you think you might be able to see the cogs turning in his mind. Slowly, his mouth opens, then there's a distinct look in his eyes that says he thinks better about whatever he was going to say, and he closes it once more.

"Spit it out."

"I actually don't think I will," at least he admits it, "I think I'm in awe of your way with words and I'm gonna keep the rest to myself," he looks out at the pool, at the grounds beyond it, tucking his hands behind his head.

"Farleigh -"

"No," he says firmer, and looks at you, but his expression isn't harsh, "I think you're right; I think we should have our own opinions, and I don't want mine to get in the way of our friendship," surprisingly, he sounds very genuinely sincere; it hits the centre of your chest, and you take a moment to consider his words. "Oliver Quick," still the barest bit of disdain, but he's clearly trying, "is someone you and my cousin clearly care about; end. Of. Sentence." It does look like it pains him to say, but you're grateful nonetheless.

For a very long time, the two of you lay in comfortable silence, side by side, as the sun turn the world gold-red-lilac-blue around you. Just as you feel like you should go and get dressed for supper, you can't help but try again.

"Come on, what were you going to say -?" You don't even finish the teasing question before Farleigh blurts out -

"Just how good was Oliver's dick for you to actually be this possessive of him before he even gets here?"

And the question makes you absolutely burst out laughing, a sound which Farleigh thankfully echoes. The cathartic release is greatly welcomed as you both stand. Wrapping your arm around Farleigh's waist as the two of you head back, but he's still waiting for the answer he knows you're not nearly too shy to give.

"I'm not possessive," you justify immediately, though Farleigh's snort gives away that he doesn't even begin to believe you, "but you can never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever tell Venetia -"

"That good?" Farleigh sounds incredibly sceptical, but you go quiet; you wonder if he can tell how smug you're being right now. Clearly, after a moment of silence, the disbelief in his voice gives him away; "seriously; that good?" You make an affirmative noise in the back of your throat, "okay," Farleigh actually sounds a little impressed, "Felix's jealousy makes a little more sense; I assume he knows?"

"Of course he knows," you shake your head dismissively, "and he's not jealous," anymore, you leave off the end.

"Am I jealous of you?" Farleigh murmurs, mostly as a joke, but knowing him there's at least part of him considering it, "who would have guessed; Oliver Quick."

For the first time when Farleigh says his name, there's only intrigue on his tongue.

[ghostgirl101]

Hi! I saw you did a obsessed oliver quick, would you consider doing the same for felix catton?

Dating Felix Catton Would Be Like This...

A/N: I would absolutely consider it, and here you are 😎 also if anyone has any oneshot ideas for Oliver or any of the other Saltburn guys then drop them in my inbox, I wouldn't mind writing a proper imagine scenario for them too 📩 next up is more Oliver Quick stuff anyways, so go crazy. Also, why did I find this kind of hard to write? Maybe I'm just used to Oliver's craziness and not this pretty little aristocrat's 🙃

🍾• Contrary to Oliver, Felix's type of obsession would be less murderous and delusional, more realistic, kind of vain... he's a Catton, a rich boy everyone knows and loves, who wants to be him or be with him. He's used to getting his way, learning new things about people until they get boring or get on his nerves, and then life goes on.

🍾• Not this time.

🍾• You'd meet at Oxford, either by coincidence, or by getting in with his clique of friends somehow. Chances are you helped him out on a test or covered for him in a class, and so he calls you over in recognition next time he sees you, to hang out with him and Farleigh and the rest.

🍾• There's something about you that gets the pretty aristocrat interested. Maybe it's just your charisma, your beauty, some definition that makes up you. You're different from his other friends, don't follow the crowd, have a different mind, a worldview he doesn't get. And he likes it.

🍾• So prepared to be hounded with questions over a drink at the pub after classes, all curious but friendly eyes following yours as you summarise yourself, your background, your ambitions. And what are his? Well, he lives in a beautiful estate with his high-class family, goes to Oxford because he can... I never really saw that he made any plans for himself in the film, so my guess is that he's not all that bothered about it. He's got money, he's got connections, he'll do what he wants, like always... so long as it meets the Catton expectations.

🍾• Assuming you don't have the same outrageous luxuries as Felix does, he wouldn't see the need to impress you or get your attention at first, because his status is a given around school and everyone's after him. But if you're not the same as the other girls who crowd around him when they're given a good enough chance, he'll find himself keeping on calling you over, wanting you around for your input on things they do.

🍾• Probably shows off his wealth - unknowingly or not - by buying you something for an unnecessarily high price, like a designer fountain pen when yours runs out in English, and he'll shrug and smirk softly, because it's nothing, don't worry about it.

🍾• Farleigh will undoubtedly be interested in you, but I see him warming up to you instead of being mocking and sceptical like he was with Oliver. Probably because you give off a lot better vibes than Ollie, and treat his friends like normal people, not tiptoeing and aweing of them because they're all rich and popular, but getting on as well as you can. There's something special about you that Felix saw to try pulling you into his circle, so you don't have to do anything but be yourself.

🍾• And when the summer break does come by, you're invited to Saltburn with his closest; a dazzling, rare invitation from the young Catton himself, probably away from others in a nice spot around campus. He'll give you his charming smile and warm eyes as he tells you to come along with them, that his mum will like you because you're beautiful, and that he really wants you there.

🍾• Expecting you to go all squealy and eager with a dozen yeses - if you can manage it, hold that all down to give him a nod and a shrug with a light smile as you agree calmly and casually instead, because that's a whole new response he'd never expect from any lucky person he shows an interest in. How come you're not falling all over him like the whole of Oxford does just by him being there?

🍾• You'll definitely be showered with attention at Saltburn. Elspeth will marvel over your complexion or your eyes or your hair or your outfit (or all of the above). Venetia will probably be grateful to have someone around who has a proper personality that she can talk to and will make friends with you fairly easily.

🍾• You'll catch onto Felix's jealousy over the attention you get pretty quickly, because he doesn't even try to be subtle about it. He'll just shamelessly approach you and complain in his own way that you're his guest, and he brought you here so you two could hang out. His sister's annoying, Farleigh's a troublemaker, so you should probably just stick around him, right? Makes sense, doesn't it?

🍾• Sure it does, Felix.

🍾• He's a nice guy really, kindhearted and sweet enough, but at the end of the day, the world is his to play with, and so are its people. He just needs to understand that you're not a toy... you're an individual, and so if it's going to be anything like his other "relationships" where he gets bored and leaves them to it without a second thought, you're not interested.

🍾• Which is all shock and horror for Felix Catton, because is this really what a proper relationship means? Proper thought and feeling 24/7, staying with that one person instead of having flings with whoever whenever he feels like it?

🍾• So just give him a hot minute to sulk about it over there while you have a good time with his other friends and Venetia, because the more he sees you hanging around with others and being true to yourself, adjusting to Saltburn's black-tie standards but not letting it shape or belittle you, Felix has to actually realise that he hasn't got a whole lot of depth or meaning to his life if it doesn't involve you somehow, in the closeness that he wants and needs it.

🍾• Okay. Convinced. He'll give it a shot.

🍾• I think that Felix would expect it to be difficult for him, because he's used to his carefree, no-strings-attached game of life instead of anything serious. But it'd come easier than he'd think. Other people just don't interest him as much as you, simply because they're not you. They don't have the same little... thing. Girls trip over his feet and cling to him, everyone wants to be his mate, to try to fit into his rich lifestyle, but you do it all effortlessly, and it's puzzling.

🍾• And so hot

🍾• Felix would be casual and open with PDA, since everyone will come to grips with the two of you being an item after you've been dating for over the span of a few solid days. An arm slung around your shoulder, messing with your hair with a fond, teasing look, linked fingers under the table. Nine out of ten times, he'll beat you to it and reach out to you first, because whatever he says, there's a needy boy in him somewhere 😏

🍾• This guy was a complete playboy before you, so needless to say, when you're getting real close, Felix has a pretty good grasp of what he's doing, and he'll do it right. Petnames too, of course, Surprisingly - but unsurprisingly - things like darling and beautiful, but he'd probably try to make a nickname out of your name and shorten it to give you one, finding it funny if you give him a mildly annoyed and amused look because it sounds weird.

🍾• He'll be all bright eyes and grinning proudly as he takes you to his parties, to have dinner with his parents, who get on with you wonderfully, because you're polite but not a suck-up like everyone else, and can hold a good conversation with them while looking over their shallow spins on things.

🍾• Honestly though, from what I saw of Elspeth, she made me laugh out loud a good couple of times from watching, so being friends with his mum wouldn't be a bad thing at all. And Felix would like to see you getting along with his family, because it just proves that you're a perfect fit, like he knew you were.

🍾• You'd make a friend for life in Venetia if you tried to comfort and genuinely help her with her insecurities and problems, not play her like the rest... I felt so bad for her tbh

🍾• You'll never want any material thing ever again, because his money can buy pretty much anything you want. I'm pretty sure his family would give you some kind of allowance when you're serious with Felix anyway, since they can see it in him that he's serious about you too, and the whole relationship is a great step he's made in his life. Any financial support you need, you've got it. Don't even mention liking the look of something in a shop window, because chances are you won't get the item, you'll part-own the store 😭

🍾• So, basically, you don't just get a gorgeous young aristocrat who finds every little unique, original thing about you fascinating and attractive, you get the whole of Saltburn as your second home. Just try to make friends with Duncan, and you'll probably get all the dirt on them too lmao- he'd get on better with you than he did with Oliver anyway, since he apparently was the first and only one in the household to realise that there was something off about Oliver.

🍾• Ohhh, and if we're getting to the twisted-up subject of Oliver Quick...

🍾• Let's just say that it could go two ways. Either he'll be obsessed with the both of you, and treat you the same way he treats Felix, looking up to him with intense, wide ocean green eyes, shadows after him in the hallways after dark. Or, once he's done destroying Felix... his obsessive, delusion-spiked gaze will flick straight over to you.

🍾• Either way, steer clear, that's all I can tell you.

[burntsaltsblog]

Shiny New Toy

(felix catton\reader)

chapter one

details: a saltburn inspired short story.

content warning: profanity, explicit sexual content, and mentions of abuse (physical and mental)

MNI 18+

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　

"I'm sorry," I said with an evident crack in my voice. I sank my teeth into my lower lip to keep my emotions bottled up. The last thing I needed was to break down in the middle of the quad.

"Save it," Eric, my boyfriend, snapped. "Your apologies don't mean shit."

He glared at me before walking briskly toward the dining hall for lunch.

I hurried behind him, attempting to catch up, but I halted my movements when he whipped his head around, regarding me sternly.

"Don't follow me. You're not allowed to eat lunch with me today."

"But-"

"No. You can eat by yourself. That way, you'll finally learn your lesson."

"Please, Eric, I-"

Eric raised his hand above his head, and I instantly cowered back, trying to avoid the impending blow.

"Don't make me do it," He whispered darkly, referencing his hand in the air that could strike me at any moment.

Before I could form a coherent response, my boyfriend spun back around and continued on his way.

I hastily wiped the few stray tears tumbling down my cheeks and glanced around the quad to ensure no one had seen what had happened.

Students were lying down on the lush, green grass as they attempted to soak up the few rays of sunshine England rarely offered. 

Luckily, they all seemed completely unaware of my presence.

All except for one.

I almost hadn't noticed him. I was about to turn toward the library when we locked eyes.

Deep brown. Warm like the sun and soft like the grass beneath our feet.

He was beautiful.

But I couldn't miss the look of pity on his face. 

My face warmed, and my cheeks took on a pink hue. He had seen the altercation between Eric and me.

I was sure he considered me to be as pathetic as Eric did. Because I was...right?

My shoulders drooped in shame as I looked away from the beautiful stranger. But the sound of footsteps caused my eyes to shoot right back up.

I stared wide-eyed as the man gracefully swept over the emerald landscape in my direction. 

I ceased to move. I was utterly shocked that someone like him would approach someone like me willingly. 

"You alright?"

His melodic voice washed over me, and a calmness accompanied it.

"What?" I asked, dazed and confused.

"I was just wondering if you were all right. I saw that bloke giving you a hard time and wanted to ensure I didn't need to straighten him out."

A surprised laugh bubbled up from my throat. The idea of anyone being able to straighten Eric out seemed preposterous. 

I regained my composure before replying. "Uh, no, everything is quite alright. My boyfriend is just having a bad day. School seems to be stressing him out at the moment."

I mentally applauded myself for how smoothly my lie rolled off my tongue.

The stranger regarded me curiously. 

"You're American," he said, referring to my lack of an English accent.

"Yup," I answered, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

"Well, does the American have a name?" he asked, teasing me gently. I couldn't miss the twinkle in his eyes as he waited for my reply. 

"Iris."

"Like the song?" he stepped forward, closing the distance between us. 

"Yeah, my parents were massive Goo Goo Dolls fans," I laughed softly.

"Well, Iris, would you like to have lunch with us?"

He threw his thumb over his shoulder, directing my attention to one of the groups of students sprawled out on the lawn.

"Oh, that's ok. I couldn't possibly intrude."

"Rubbish. You wouldn't be intruding at all," He said, slinging an arm over my shoulders. "Besides, someone's got to welcome you to this country properly. Because by the looks of it, your boyfriend has not done a very good job."

I let him guide me towards his friends as I asked, "So, what's your name? It's only fair that you return the favor."

I lifted my chin, and our gazes clashed, causing my heart to beat erratically. 

"Felix."

The name tumbled from his full lips, and I relished the sound of it.

His name was perfect. Just like him.

We arrived at a tangled group of limbs on the grass. Felix's friends prattled on together as they lay in a small heap on the ground.

"Ignore them if they start bothering you," Felix whispered, leaning in close, "They can have a habit of coming on too strong. Especially Farleigh."

"Which one is Farleigh?"

"You're about to find out."

His breath tickled my neck as he drew his lips away from my ear. Tiny tingles danced down my spine, and goosebumps littered my skin most deliciously.

"And who do we have here?"

The question came from one of the two boys on the lawn. His skin glowed a golden brown, and his eyes swam with many questions.  

"This is Iris, and she will be having lunch with us today," replied Felix merrily. 

The one, who I assumed to be Farleigh, did little to hide his assessment of me. His dark eyes ran the length of my physique before a sly grin stretched across his face.

"Nice job, Lex. She's even prettier than the last one."

I didn't miss Felix's sharp glare at Farleigh but was quickly distracted by the other brunette boy as he attempted to pass his snicker off as a mere cough. He sat beside Farleigh but made no move to interject himself into the conversation. 

I bit my lip nervously. They didn't even know me, yet I could feel their judgment wafting off them potently. 

"Play nice, Farleigh," Felix chastised.

"My apologies," Farleigh replied as he rose to his full height. He stepped forward and courteously extended his hand.

"I'm Farleigh, as I'm sure you've already figured out. And that's Oliver over there," he said, nodding his head towards the previously snickering boy who hadn't bothered to stand up.

"Just Ollie," he muttered from his place on the ground.

"Iris," I mumbled quietly.

Farleigh continued to hold my hand for several beats too long before Felix cleared his throat loudly. My hand was promptly dropped. 

Felix made himself comfortable on the thick grass before reaching up with his hand and gently tugging me down with him. 

"Where's V?" He asked as I gingerly sat beside him.

"Blowing her TA," Farleigh casually replied as he picked up today's paper and pretended to examine its various articles. 

"I knew you transferring here was a terrible idea. She's learning all your bad habits," Felix retorted.

Farleigh merely snorted before changing the subject to gossip about the World History Teacher. A student had found Mr. West's Grindr account, and now the student was threatening to tell Mr. West's wife unless Mr. West gave him an A for the rest of the year. 

I resorted to picking the fraying cuff of my jeans out of sheer awkwardness and boredom. My eyes wandered the quad full of laughing, elated students before finally resting on the meager boy still seated beside Farleigh. 

His gaze flew back and forth between Felix and Farleigh as if he were watching a riveting tennis match. It was impossible not to miss the adoration and longing painted on his features. I felt his obvious emotions had nothing to do with Mr. West and everything to do with the two people in front of him. 

His silent reverence would convince one that he was in the presence of gods and not men.  

But maybe that's what they were to Oliver: gods, not mortals. 

"Sorry, I'm late!"

I whipped around to locate the voice that rang through the air and saw a majestic sight. 

Blonde hair flew behind a brightly smiling, pale girl as she hurtled towards our huddle on the ground. 

"It's about time, V," Farleigh said. "We were beginning to think Jason had kidnapped you."

It's Mr. Fellcraft," she corrected as she flounced down on the other side of Felix and made herself busy spreading her long, floral skirt around her on the earth.

"Yes, but it's Jason to you. And that's what matters," Farleigh countered. 

The girl known as "V" only responded with a scowl before returning her attention back to her skirt.

"V, we wouldn't tease you about it if it wasn't so glaringly obvious that you're shagging the guy. And as your brother, I need to know if he's forcing you into anything because I will happily chat with the fellow if need be."

"Calm down, little brother. All is well. It's just a bit of fun, is all." 

I wasn't sure I would regard hooking up with a teaching assistant as a "bit of fun."

"Besides," She said, "I don't particularly want to discuss my time with Mr. Fellcraft. I'd much rather talk about the girl sitting next to you, Felix, who looks like she'd rather be elsewhere."

Felix gave a small roll of his eyes before swiftly introducing me to his sister. 

"V, this is Iris. She's going to be joining us for lunch this afternoon. Iris, this is-"

"Venetia. Venetia Catton," she cut in before her brother could continue with the introduction. "The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure."

Venetia Catton extended her hand, palm down, as if she expected me to kiss it. Unsure of what to do, I grasped the ends of her slender fingers in what appeared to be an uncoordinated handshake.

Her only response was to giggle at me as if I was a small, confused child. Too stupid for my own good. 

I adverted my eyes as a quiet fell over the group. A breeze came by, sweeping my long, honey-colored hair off of my shoulders. 

"Let's head inside, yeah?" Felix asked, breaking the silence. "Since everyone is here."

"Everyone and a guest," Farleigh muttered under his breath as we all stood in unison.

I stuck close to Felix's side so as not to hear what other snarky things I was sure Farleigh and Venetia were saying about me. They walked several feet ahead with their heads bowed together, whispering back and forth. 

No wonder this group was so small. They obviously didn't like newcomers. 

Except for Felix. 

I looked up at him and found his eyes already settled on me. He offered a soft smile. 

"Don't mind them. We're all rather protective of each other, so new additions can be met with some skepticism."

"I don't know if I would call it skepticism. It seems more like downright disdain to me," I chuckled faintly.

"No," Felix replied, shaking his head adamantly. "Once they see how I've accepted you, they'll follow suit."

"Are you their leader or something?" I asked, suspicion and curiosity lacing my voice.

"Or something," He murmured, shifting his gaze straight ahead as we entered Oxford's primitive dining hall.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　

chapter index

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

[goobtopia]

Oliver being a woman instead is such an interesting concept because I feel like things could have gone way different in that scenario. Anyways, your Farleigh fic was very enjoyable to read :)

thanks so much for reading i’m so glad u liked it! & yes i love the concept. while we’d def lose some elements of story that barry’s character had like how interesting oliver and farleigh’s relationship was, but it would be super interesting to see that pan out differently. like the relationship between venetia and a woman first of all (i may have just wanted to see her kiss a lady) & felix def wouldn’t have been as mad about it i think, honestly i think he’d be more upset abt her hooking up w farleigh. and bc women are sooooo often socialized to be receptive and accommodating to other’s needs/feelings/wants/etc they learn to fit in faster bc it becomes an intuitive skill, one i personally think oliver doesn’t possess and that’s why he’s forced to be so calculated. i’m not saying these things are exclusive to women and men obvi but it’s a lot more prominent so it would’ve been cool to see a character who had moments like ollie where their etiquette was incorrect but who was still able to smooth things over and could fake the family out a little bit better. like not totally fool them (farleigh would def still be able to see right thru it but he’d have a harder time finding ways to embarrass or insult them) and we could’ve seen how ollie’s plan would’ve panned out had felix not found out about the parent lie.

i have a continuation in the works sooo i’ll get to expand on that warning it will be freaky nasty but that’s kinda what my blog’s here for lol.

[twisted-turtels]

Crossed Paths (Pt.1)

Farleigh Start x black!fem!oc

Author’s note: this is so random of me. Welcome to my new fixation, Farleigh Start from Saltburn. I wonder how long this story will last lol.

969 words is crazy i dont even write this much for my classes lol. it takes me days to get to 1000 words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Crossed Paths

“Mama, there is no need to worry about me. You don’t trust me?” Jordan says. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I don't trust the rest of the world. You're my baby, and you’re leaving me. Going all the way across the world!” Monica, Jordan’s mom, exclaims.

“Ma, you know this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I have never left this country, and I get the chance to study at one of the oldest and most prestigious universities for free! There’s nothing to worry about,” Jordan explains, “Listen, I’m about to pull up to my apartment, or shall I say ‘flat’ as the Englishmen describe it. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnighhhht.”

“Goodnight, baby, I love you. Don’t go crazy over there now!” Monica hangs up.

Jordan gets out of her taxi and takes in her surroundings. University of Oxford, I can’t believe I made it. Jordan clumsily gathers her luggage from the taxi (It’s a lot of stuff) and walks towards the entrance to her accommodation. As she struggles to make sure none of her luggage falls, she accidentally bumps into a tall figure. 

“Fuck.”

“Oh shit, I am so sorry!” Jordan looks up and exclaims. She sees a tall, pretty, light-skinned man staring down at his now-stained shirt. He’s black, she thinks. “Yes, and so is my shirt,” the man says sarcastically. “Oh, I did not realize I said that out loud. I’m sorry again. I’m kind of struggling, and I guess I wasn't paying-” she tries to explain, “You’re American?” the man interrupts. “Um, yeah, I just got in today, if you can’t tell. I’m here for an exchange program,” she continued. “Not many of us here. Listen, don’t worry about the shirt. I hope to see you around, but I gotta be somewhere soon,” the man quickly says and walks off. 

“For sure,” Jordan trails off, saying before she looks at her bags, I guess I will take this up myself. “Ugh!” she groans.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan sits in her flat and looks at the now unpacked space. I did a great job. I think I'm gonna put a Texas flag on my wall, too. She slumps down on the couch and looks at the flyer on her coffee table. ‘Undergraduate Social! 5 PM,’ it reads. “I guess I can attempt to socialize,” Jordan looks down at her watch, “One hour to get ready, but I don’t have to be there at exactly 5 pm though,” Jordan thinks aloud. I wonder if I’ll see the man from earlier? 

After freshening up, Jordan gathered her keys and wallet and went to the social. She entered the student union and noticed it bustling with students and professors. While looking around, she subconsciously looks for the man she met earlier.  Not many black students, she notes. She takes the time to go up to different organization tables and gather information. As she moves from table to table, she feels a delicate hand tap her shoulder. Jordan turns around and notices a blonde girl standing in front of her. 

“Hello!” the blonde girl exclaims.

“Hello?” Jordan questions.

“Sorry for the abruptness, but I just wanted to introduce myself. You seemed lost. My name is Venetia, and I wanted to ask, are you American?”

“Uh yeah, I am. I’m from Texas, actually.” Jordan explains.

“That’s really cool. There aren't many Americans here. I do know another one, though, who just happens to be my cousin. Would you like to meet him?”

I do need friends, so it wouldn't hurt.

“I don’t mind that at all. Lead the way. Also, my name is Jordan, by the way.”

“What a lovely name. Follow me!” Venetia instructs. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Boys, I would like you to meet Jordan! She’s American just like you, Farleigh!” Venetia exclaims

Jordan stares at the tall man. “Oh, we’ve met Vee. She’s the one who spilled tea on my shirt.” Farleigh explains with a stoic look on his face.

Jordan stares at her feet sheepishly, “Yeah, really sorry about that.”

Farleigh stared the girl down until he smirked, “I’m just playing; it wasn’t a big deal. It's nice to put a pretty name to a pretty face, though.”

He just called me pretty.

“Ignore Farleigh, he’s a little jokester. Aren’t you cousin?” Venetia teasingly asks as Farleigh rolls his eyes. “Anyway, this is my brother, Felix,” Venetia gestures to another tall, handsome man. Are all British men above 6 feet and handsome?

“Hello. Sorry for my sister practically dragging you over here,” Felix jokes.

“I did not drag her over here!” Venetia exclaims

“Haha, it’s okay. I need to put myself out there more honestly, don’t want to be alone during my time here.” Jordan reassures.

“How about I get your phone number?” Farleigh blurts out, he then corrects himself, “ How about we all get your number so we can continue hanging out more? Obviously, I don’t want to be the only American in the group.”

“I thought you would never ask,” Jordan pulls out her phone to notice it’s dead, “Oops, phone is dead. Let me just write it down.” There is no paper. “Can I see your hand?” Jordan asks Farleigh while taking out a pen. Jordan softly holds Farleigh’s hand and writes down her number, “You can pass this on to the rest of them,” Jordan smiles at Farleigh. 

“It was really nice meeting y'all, but I have to get ready for the first day, so I’ll see y'all later,” Jordan waves and walks off.

Oh my god, when did I get so bold?

The group looks at each other in astonishment as Jordan walks away. “Ooh, Farleigh, she gave you her number,” Venetia teases. “She gave it to all of us,” Farleigh defends himself. 

“She says y’all,” Felix points out. “That’s so Texas of her.” He jokes. 

[to-fangirl-or-not-to-fangirl]

saltburn (farleigh) fics

is there anyone who watched the movie, loved it, and wants to read fics about farleigh that aren’t sex-focused?

as an asexual, those…select scenes are the ones that almost broke the movie for me. but i finished it anyway, realized it’s actually pretty good, and i’d love to see more content, especially about farleigh, but i’m sex-repulsed and it seems that that’s all the content that’s out there.

if anyone feels the same way, send me an ask with a prompt. i’d love to start writing the fluffier side of farleigh fics on this hellsite