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tadpolesonalgae · 8 months

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Beast form!Tamlin x reader: The Great Rite[***]

A/N: so, this is a prequel to The Aftermath of Spring because most of you should know by now that I love anything to do with monsterfucking :)

Warnings: smut, monsterfucking, bondage (vines)

He’d requested you stay in your rooms that night, and you’d been too timid at the time to inquire about his seemingly out-of-the-blue request. So you’d gone home, and shut and bolted your door.

But the drums are pounding, and even as High Fae you find it strenuous work to resist that heavy beat that thunders through your being.

You’re enough of a female to admit you’re harbouring concerns about the night. It’s well-known what will happen, what activities your High Lord will engage in. You can admit you’re worried your efforts will be in vain. You’ve grown alarmingly fond of him, with his affections for poetry, and affinity for the fiddle. It’s not a lie to say you’re jealous of whichever female he chooses to bed tonight.

It’s the final straw, the final fracture that catalyses your violation of his request. You want him to be yours, and you want him to call you his. There’s nothing else to be considered really once the conclusion reaches you. You’ve made your decision. And with a heart that’s pounding in time to the alluring drums, you unlock your door, silently slinking out into the hallways of your estate, heading for the bonfires.

————

Bonfire smoke tints the air, smelling so alluring and delicious as you follow it through the cluster of trees. Fire gleams in the distance, sparks and embers dancing between shadows as the centre of the revelry comes into sight. The drums thrum through the ground, reverberating up your feet into your ankles.

It’s the one night deemed acceptable for a Lady like yourself to dress with these unfavourable intentions in mind, and you indulge in the level of freedom you’re afforded, forgoing any slippers, or even a night robe to conceal your thin slip. You blend right into the crowd with your revealing dress, ankles and wrists on show for any male to peek at. It’s exhilarating.

But it’s missing something.

The eyes feel wondrous on your skin, licking and nipping at you with male intent, but they’re not his eyes. They aren’t emerald flecked with gold: a spring glade with threads of sunlight spooling between the leaves, creating dappled shade upon the lush undergrowth. You want his eyes dancing over your bared body, you want him to be the one silently considering ways to get you into bed.

The drums are reaching their climax—you don’t have long left before he’s forced to make his decision. He’ll make his choice without knowing the full extent of his crop. How will he pluck you out from the crowd is he isn’t even aware of your presence? The thought dampens your mood, leading you to wonder away from the fires, seeking the cool reprieve of the forest for comfort. You wish to mope in peace, bemoan the missed opportunity.

Leaves rustle at your back, but you leave the noise be. It’s most likely a pair of tangled bodies, coupling in the eves of the long night, getting a head start on the inevitable activities. A twig snaps, close enough by that you get to your feet, drying your dampened eyes as you plan to relocate yourself. You aren’t too keen on inadvertently getting an eyeful of misplaced lust when you’re in such low spirits.

Yet when you turn, you come to face a creature the size of a horse, its features distinctly lupine in their structure, large antlers protruding from its skull. Your attention is drawn to the green eyes piercing from golden fur, trained upon your form with razor-sharp intent. Tamlin.

You feel your muscles stiffen, still in the motions of drying your eyes. Slowly, you lower you arms in favour of crossing them over your chest, keeping yourself as concealed as possible. All too suddenly, your clothes feel insubstantial, like you should be dressed more modestly before him.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, words dragging from his animal throat with pleasing roughness. You shake your head slightly, averting your gaze elsewhere, fingers twining together at your front, “I was not crying, my Lord. The night must have tricked you.”

“I have not known you to keep things from me?” He inquires gently, moving forward with feline grace on his large paws, and you can hear the distinct frown in his voice. “Tell me: what has caused your sadness? I would like to right it.” Your teeth find placement within your lip, tugging gently as you make the effort to straighten; appear unruffled and dignified. “I assure you, my Lord, it is nothing for you to concern yourself with. I was merely out enjoying the festivities, you see, as I’m sure you will soon be, too.” A veiled question—to pry whether he’s taken a female yet, or whether you still have a chance. Slim as it may be.

This time his golden brow does furrow, “I have not known you to lie to me, either,” he remarks, a little sternly. It’s surprisingly difficult to remain calm beneath his scrutinising gaze, not to shift or fumble. But he huffs out a low breath, eyes gleaming as he again looks to you, “walk with me.” You don’t have in you to reject the order, so you take a few steps forward, careful to keep the distance respectful. His eyes mark your bare feet, zipping up your ankles to where the hem of your night dress starts.

The two of you move in companionable silence for quite a way, moving through the soft grass and moss, small fireflies and will-o-wisps dancing about between trees. “Have you been delighting in the revelry?” He asks, breaking the peaceful quiet that you’d settled into. You nod your head demurely, keeping up your act, “I have, indeed. There were a few dances that had me particularly breathless,” you tell him, making your words sound slightly embarrassed.

Silvery moonlight catches on his claws before they’re retracting back into his large paws. You peer up at him then, only to find his attention already on you, eyes gleaming. Hurriedly, you turn your gaze elsewhere, attempting to track the shift of the winds to remove your focus from him. “Strange,” he remarks, and you could swear you hear a smile in his word, “I didn’t see you amongst the revellers.”

It’s an effort to keep yourself from stiffening beneath his intense gaze, piercing into you as if he knows the reason you crept from your room after he specifically requested you remain inside. For what reason, though?

“You must have been preoccupied with your fiddling,” you retort primly, perfectly aware of the insinuation you’ve just made. A pleasant laugh drags form his throat, having something warm and liquid lighting in your lower belly. “I could show you, if you’d like,” he drawls, lips curving into a feline smile.

You stop in your tracks, head spinning as you turn to face him. He’s also come to a halt, watching you with the intense green of his, nostrils flaring delicately. A soft snarl rumbles in his chest as the wind blows past you, carrying your scent for him to get drunk on. “I beg your pardon?” You manage, slightly hoarsely.

The High Lord laughs lowly; quietly at your stammer. “I said: I could show you. My fiddle still remains beside a bonfire. I would happily play for you,” he supplies, turning to face forward. “It wouldn’t be for long, as there are still duties I have yet to fulfil, but for the moment…” his eyes flick to yours in question. Your heart drums against your chest, beating and pounding at his attention, the apparent vulnerability in those emerald and gilt eyes.

You turn away, averting your gaze so he cannot see the nerves that are sizzling beneath your skin, frying and scrambling your mind. “I would not want to withhold you from your duties, High Lord. I think I’ve stolen enough of your time as it is. You should not keep the night waiting.” He makes a low sound in his throat in reply, pausing before resuming conversation, as if he had hoped you might change your mind. “Then, allow me to assure you safe passage back to the festivities, at least. To be sure your lovely dancing-feet don’t give out from your revelry,” he says softly, his charm almost a tangible thing in the night air.

Delving through your mind, no words come to hand that would be a polite dissuasion, so all you can do is gracefully accept his offer. You turn to make the walk back, but something like a laugh resounds in his chest, making you pause. “What do you find so amusing?” You ask, resisting the urge to return his good nature as you peer at him.

He prowls closer, coming to a stop beside you, near enough you can feel his warmth grazing your arms, hairs rising with awareness. “It’s a night of extravagance, of indulging in decadence,” he says smoothly, but you still don’t understand. When he settles to the ground, great paws tucking beneath him, you begin to get the idea. “It would not be right for me to allow you to wonder back on those feet of yours. A Lady should not walk when she has no need to.”

Heat flushes your cheeks, lips parting in barely concealed astonishment. “You—… You are asking me to ride you?” You ask, disbelievingly. His smile broadens to a grin, the same one he’d shown you multiple times past, seemingly just for you, “you have quite the tongue for implications, don’t you?” You flush further, replaying your words. “But yes, that is what I am asking,” he says, watching you carefully. You manage what you hope is a vaguely confident nod, before approaching him.

“Is it…acceptable to put my hands upon you, my Lord?” You ask, unsure how you would manage to mount him otherwise. “More than acceptable, Lady. I would argue it is expected,” he laugh softly. You swallow your embarrassment, stepping into him as your hands find purchase in the soft locks of fur, swinging your leg over him. He goes slightly rigid beneath you, and you pray to the Mother he can’t feel the nakedness of your heat though your dress—thin as it is. But then he raises onto his paws, muscle shifting beneath you, and your thoughts are banished.

And as he begins the slow wonder back the way you’d come, you feel your muscles lose their tension, melting into the solid heat beneath you.

————

“Thank you for the…company, my Lord,” you say, curtsying slightly before his large frame. You have a feeling ride wouldn’t have been the right word choice.

Heat is warming your bones, but he seems to be lending you the courtesy of not mentioning what is probably an obvious shift in scent by now. Most likely because you are doing the same for him. No sooner than you had mounted him, you’d been wrapped in the scent of his arousal, light enough to blend seamlessly into his usual fragrance.

You stand opposite one another, silence stretching between you as you anxiously wring your finger behind your back. The thought alone of that distinct scent has you aching in response. You consider it a perfectly normal reaction to be having to your High Lord upon this particular night, affording yourself yet another excuse. “It was my pleasure,” he says, green eyes gleaming beneath the moonlight, and you can pick out the sparks from the bonfires reflecting in the depths of his gaze. Piercing in their intensity. “I would invite you to enjoy the night to its fullest, Lady,” he rumbles, talons protruding from his paws as if to keep him in place. “And I for you, Lord.”

The wind blows toward you, and you’re once again wrapped within his scent, powerful and comfortingly masculine with a soft undertone that has your toes curling in the grass. “I hope you do well by your Court, on this eve,” you add, wishing to spend a little more of yourself on his time—selfish as it may be.

Again, those green eyes flick over you, glinting with something too fleeting to place. But then he’s taking a step forward; your heart spikes, foolish illusions forming themselves in your mind’s eye. “You came out of your room tonight,” he says, softly enough it’s a struggle for your ears to pick out the words. When you figure them out, however, you stiffen. This is the conversation you had been hoping to avoid. “It’s Calanmai,” you reason with surprising ease, “I would like to enjoy the perks of the celebration like every other female.”

He regards you, taking another set of steps forward. His scent becomes more overpowering with each inch gained, heart picking up at his closeness. “Why lie to me?” He asks, catching you off guard. You blink, and it’s the confirmation he needs. “You weren’t dancing with the revellers,” he says, softly.

“And I suppose you would know because you fiddled at every bonfire?” You ask in the same soft tone. The smile he gives you is a little feral, “I would know, because the magic of this night took me to your estate, just as I had anticipated.” You go preternaturally still as his words fall on your pointed ears. “And yet here you are, out in the forests when I had specifically requested your absence this night.”

You flush as you put together his pieces. His scent, the unusual forwardness, the…ride. “Forgive me,” you murmur, quietly, “I had no intention of—”

The wind changes.

Steadily, your scent catches on the cool breeze, winding and wrapping around him as his own had with you. His pupils contracts, talons sliding deeper into the soil with restraint, nostrils flaring as his body goes rigid. Muscle tightens, lip curling slightly as his attention centres on the dip between your thighs. “I suggest you leave, now,” he manages, voice strained with tension.

But the magic had called him to you, and you to him. Surely there was reason for the drums holding more allure than they had in past years. Maybe it’s not a weak will that has led you to this circumstance.

You take a small step forward, his pupils contracting further, muscle trembling as your scent envelopes him. “Tamlin…” you begin, taking another small step toward the towering beast. Then his pupils are dilating, filling the marvellously rich green of his iris’, almost swallowing them whole. “I don’t want—” he manages. “I want you, but…”

“But what?” You ask. “This is the purpose of the Rite. Nothing to be concerned about.” But the shake in your voice betrays your emotions.

“I want you to want it, too,” he rasps, strain evident in his jaw; the harsh line of muscle up his paws.

You nod, taking that last step forward. If he lowers his neck, he’ll be able to press his vulpine nose against you. “I do,” you murmur, “I do want you, Tamlin.”

A low snarl sounds in his throat, his name seeming to be his undoing as he takes a sudden step forward, pushing into your stomach with enough force to knock you to the mossy ground. Your eyes widen, attempting to gather yourself but vines and roots are crawling about your body, winding hastily up your calves and thighs, pulling up your night dress until you’re bare in the night.

His eyes seem to glow in the dark, magic thrumming beneath his skin as your heart follows the drum of his power. “You’re sure?” He asks gutturally, somehow keeping himself at bay a little longer. “I’m not— I don’t want to hurt you.” Your eyes lock, and you’re aware that you’re panting, heat swelling in your chest the longer you look at him.

Slowly, tentatively, you latch your fingers at the hem of your night dress. His gaze narrows on your hands as you raise the material over your head, leaving you naked for him, “I trust you, Tamlin.” His eyes hold enough anguish for you to grasp the depth of his concerns—he doesn’t want to ruin whatever it is that’s flourishing between you. “Have you ever hurt anyone before? During the Rite?” You ask. He manages a shake of his head, and you nod in response. “I believe you,” you say, relaxing beneath the roots and vines constraining your lower body. “And I trust you, Tamlin,” you repeat, letting him feel your sincerity.

“I’m here: take me.”

Vines wrap around your waist, hugging your skin as they circle over your breasts, coiling around your nipples before snaking down your arms. They don’t pull, or guide, simply hold you—make no mistake he could move you as he pleased if he wished. Hooked talons gleam in the moonlight, eyes glowing with inner power as he stalks forward. “Is that why you stumbled out of your lovely estate?” He drawls, voice roughening with carnal hunger as he towers over you. “You wanted to find me, too?”

Unimaginable lust melts the arousal in the pit of your belly, turning it to something liquid and molten as he settles on his paws before you. You try not to be embarrassed at the position, how he can see everything between your legs. How turned on you are: gleaming beneath the stars. “Yes,” you swallow. “I was hoping to find you.”

His lip curls in a soft snarl, prowling forward while keeping low to the ground, “if I had known I could be so forward with you, I wouldn’t have waited all these months to have you in my bed.” His admission has your pulse spiking, has your legs widening a little more. His eyes glitter with dark hunger, noting the gesture; the invitation. His snout roughly nudges your thighs further apart, vines constricting as they follow his will. Heat prickles your skin, awareness lighting your body as a cool spring breeze licks over your nakedness.

A quiet breath escapes your lips as he presses between your legs, your panting becoming deeper. “Oh, gods,” you stammer shakily, his eyes flicking up to you in pleasure. Then his jaw is opening, his slightly rough tongue dragging flatly over your heat, passing through your centre. “Tamlin…!” You breathe, muscles tensing at the abrupt stimulation. A sound of deep, male satisfaction purrs through his chest, repeating the action with firmer intent.

Your lips part, spine arching as the vines slither and slide over your skin, giving attention to every nerve ending. “I…what?” You stammer, mind fumbling from the pleasure. Your teeth find your lower lip as his tongue starts moving eagerly over you, the textured scrape over your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your skull. When he purrs with pleasure, the wet muscle vibrates, sending those quick-fire pulses straight to your nerves, and you shudder.

When a startled moan slips from your lips, he growls, eyes flickering as if he’s warring for control within himself. Hunger glitters in his darkened gaze, and one large paw lands possessively over your abdomen, spanning your entire stomach. A humiliating whimper drags from your throat at the delicious pressure, one leg hooking over his other paw, toes curling in the grass.

“Tamlin…” you pant, loving the way his talons hook around your waist, keeping you pinned beneath him. But it’s comforting, you feel secure instead of trapped. He growls in pleasure, and more moans spill from your parted lips, arching into him, almost trembling with the effort to keep all this euphoria within you. It simply builds, and builds, pressure intensifying beneath your skin until you know you’re going to snap.

Your mouth opens in a silent moan, head tipping back as his paw presses a little harder over you. The tapered end of the wet muscle presses against your entrance, the base part of his tongue pushing into your clit, purring roughly as he feels you tighten once, the sign you’re about to tip over the edge. He growls with male pleasure as your body relaxes into his vines, melting into his power as pleasure floods your blood, singing beneath your skin.

His name is a mantra in your mouth, repeating over and over again like it’s the only word you know, the only word you can remember as your vision flashes light and dark. “Tamlin…” you beg quietly, pleading for him not to stop, to let you continue on this high as your legs spasm and your body goes limp.

Your vision is somewhat blurred when you softly float down from your high, and you have to blink away the dampness. Your skin is gleaming with sweat, heart pounding in your chest as heat ravages your body and you have this need, this incessant need to push your legs wider. You need to have him, want and need and need and want him so badly you feel like the world is whirling inside of you.

His vines release you enough for you to attempt shifting, but you’re so sensitive that you tremble. “Tamlin, I…” you murmur, looking up at him desperately, but then your attention catches between his hind legs, and you could sigh with relief.

The vines tighten and constrict around your form, finally taking advantage of you as you’re moved to his pleasure, flipping you onto your arms and legs—feet flat against the ground as you’re bent until your palms are planted in the grass. You flush wildly at the position, leaning heavily into the vines to keep you balanced at such a sharp angle. You’re completely open to him, and you watch from between your own legs as he prowls forward.

Your hair slides up over your shoulders from the slant of your spine, brushing the ground as you feel him put himself over you—the soft fur of his stomach brushing silkily against your back, his front paws landing further beyond your own arms, hind legs just behind your feet.

You could cry when you feel his tip nestling against your entrance, the bare, soft skin surrounding that area hot and gentle against your ass. “Tamlin…” you beg, whimpering with need, “please…” He growls in response, talons slipping out from his knuckles, digging into the soil as he rubs himself over your wet heat. “Hold still,” he growls, the syllables of his order rasping against your pointed ears. You keep as still as possible for him, needing to have him pounding you into the mossy bed as soon as possible. With muscles like his, lining his body with feline grace, you doubt he’ll have any struggle doing so.

“Breathe in,” he commands. You do so, right as he pushes in. The air whooshes from your lungs as you take the first few inches, limbs trembling; going weak with pleasure. “Breathe in,” he repeats, a low snarl. The inherent dominance he has over you as High Lord forcing you to take in a gulp of air. Your vision clears, and he pushes in deeper. You curse softly, making him chuckle. “I had no idea you possessed such a foul mouth,” he growls, shifting his paws to rest over the roots of a nearby tree, levelling himself. “What other sounds will you make for me tonight, sparrow?”

You bite back a moan as he sinks those last few inches into you, creating such intense pressure within your abdomen it’s a wonder you don’r reach your high right then and there. “I’ll sing for you until my lungs blow out,” you breathe, pressing back against him, so it’s skin against skin, the delicious weight of him at your back. He groans, the husky sounds reverberating through your back, going from the tips of your toes to the peaks of your nipples, vines flicking over them playfully.

“Please, Tamlin…” you breathe, rolling your hips back against him, “please move.” He laughs lowly, as he pulls back, then slowly glides in, shoving the air from your chest. “You like being full up, don’t you?” He asks roughly, hips dragging back once again, further this time, before pressing back inside, tipping you forward ever so slightly. “Yes,” you murmur in reply, “love it.”

Tamlin snarls softly, finally dragging back all the way, reassured you can take him without being in pain, as he finally slams in. A loud, high-pitched moan spills from your lips, toes and fingers curling in the grass as he repeats the action. He raises his front paws, burying his talons into the tree so he can put his weight behind each thrust, cock dragging over those spots that have white dots dancing across your sight.

Words leave your mind as he sets the pace, one that keeps the pleasure flowing without turning too rough, or sloppy. You’re not sure you could handle him if he really decided to be rough, but then again…

He hits deep inside of you and you’re so relieved those vines are holding you firmly in place. Securing you beneath him so he’s free to pound into you, use you exactly how he wants. A scream spills from your lips as he doesn’t let up, continues giving you that pleasure, heat building and coiling as the pressure intensifies. All over again you can feel yourself tightening around him, ready to unravel, to spring free, then release everything.

He can sense it and it spurs him on, hips bucking upward as he slightly changes the angle, twitching inside of you once as you tighten. “Tamlin, I…” you can’t form the words, don’t even know what you’re trying to say but he purrs in response, as if he can understand. The reverberations strum through you, and you fall. You topple over that edge, fluttering around him and he roars in response.

Your eyes roll back as he spills into you, hot spurts of liquid pumping you full, so much that he spills down your thighs, so much you feel every part of your inner heat swell with his come. The world goes black, and then you’re thrown into a storm of pleasure, rough waves cresting over you, taking you under as you fight for breath; as it overwhelms you entirely.

You’re shaking and trembling when he at last finishes, the final drops of his release pumping you to the brim, stuffing you full as he pulls away. The vines slowly release you, gently enough that you don’t immediately hit the floor, instead settling into the spongy moss. Your breaths come out in deep, hurried pants, hauling air into your body as you begin to recover from the intensity of the night.

Magic crackles at your back, and then warm, sturdy arms are wrapping beneath your middle, pulling you back into a firm chest. You melt against him as he presses kiss after kiss to your temple. He keeps you against him, set between his powerful thighs as he strokes your skin lightly.

The moon still gleams over head, the drums a far off beat, over the hills and through the trees. From another world entirely. In this world—in your world—it’s just him. Him with his arms around you, keeping you warm and comforted as your sight darkens into sleep.

You pass into night with the soft press of his mouth to your hair, fingers grazing your skin with infinite care, as if worried he’ll break you with too much force.

His scent is the last thing you remember before you’re swallowed entirely into oblivion.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

#Tamlin #Tamlin x reader #beast form! Tamlin x reader #beast form! Tamlin #monsterfucking #Tamlin monsterfucking #Hallowed High Lords #Tamlin smut #Tamlin x reader smut #beast form! tamlin x reader smut #The Great Rite #The Aftermath of Spring

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valeskafics · 2 months

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"Always" - Felix Catton x Reader

a/n: the harry potter references do not indicate that i support jkr or her opinions in any way, shape, or form. the characters are seen reading "deathly hallows" so i included it as a plot point. anyway, for an anon request for ollie perving on felix and his bestie 🩷

Summary: Felix wants to know if you feel the same way he feels about you, after all this time.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, oliver creeping lol, male masturbation, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 3,000 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

There’s nothing that says summer quite like long afternoons hanging around Catton family estate. Saltburn is practically a second home to you at this point. You and Felix have been best friends since childhood. You can’t remember a time when he wasn’t in your life, nor would you want to. You went to the same primary school as well as secondary, thick as thieves. It didn’t matter which boy you were dating or which girl Felix was shagging, the two of you always put each other first. There was never a compromise when it came to that.

It was devastating when the time came and you were to attend Cambridge while he went off to Oxford. The thought of being without your best friend was almost unbearable. But, between the constant emails and late night phone calls, he made sure you didn’t feel his absence as badly as you would have otherwise. He tells you about the girls he hooks up with and you tell him about your Cambridge hookups, giggling late into the night about anything and everything, Farleigh often jumping on the fun as well.

You’re introduced to Felix’s new friend, Oliver Quick, via a phone call early on in their friendship. You know Farleigh seems weary of the newcomer, but in all honesty, he seems pretty harmless to you. So when Felix tells you a few months later that he’s coming to Saltburn for the summer, you think nothing of it. He’s just lost his dad, it’ll be a nice way for him to keep his mind off of things.

You arrive at Saltburn a few hours after Oliver, meeting him in person soon after you set foot on the grounds. He seems nice enough, but you can’t be bothered with him or Farleigh or Venetia at the moment, instead running to embrace Felix. His form dwarfs yours as he picks you up, twirling you around as he hugs you, the two of you giggling like crazy as you begin chatting each other’s ears off. It’s like you speak a secret language of your own, one that the others present are unable to understand. Felix insists that the two of you should go for a swim right now. You try to tell him you want to drop your things off, you want to take a nap, but he’s not having it. He just hauls you over your shoulder and runs to toss you in the pool, jumping in after you.

Farleigh and Venetia roll their eyes at the two of you and your silly antics, watching as you immediately begin dunking each other underwater, play fighting as you always do. Though they can’t help but smile at the familiar sight. Oliver, however, just watches with an inquisitive look in his eyes. And when you catch his gaze for a brief moment, flashing him a bright smile, you can’t help the shiver that goes up and down your spine at the way he looks at you. You turn back to Felix, trying to ignore the feeling of Oliver’s eyes on your form. You do your best to avoid being alone with him as the summer goes on. You can’t put your finger on why, but something about him unsettles you. You start to put more stock into what Farleigh said all those months ago.

Though there’s something else on your mind as well as the days grow longer and nights grow shorter. That something has changed between you and Felix.

There’s always been something that teetered on the edge of friendship and something more. The way you’ve always felt so possessive over each other, so protective. The way your hugs have always lasted just a little longer than an embrace between best friends should. The way his eyes meet yours, those soft brown eyes staring at you, a little smile on his lips as you lay down side by side in the field, his lashes brushing against his cheeks as he leans in to poke your nose, laughing at the yelp of protest you let out. The way his hand always ends up holding yours, the way you always end up sitting in his lap when you all gather around to watch a movie.

The way you fall asleep to the sound of his voice as he reads from the latest Harry Potter book, a smile on your face at his dulcet tone, “Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded, he turned back Snape, and his eyes were full of tears. ‘After all this time?’ ‘Always,’ said Snape.”

The way you share in his bed whenever you come to Saltburn, cuddled up to each other like lovers would. His arms wrapped around your waist as he curls up against your back. It feels right.

It has always felt right.

You wake up, reaching out for Felix, wanting to cuddle up to him, seeking out his warmth as you always do when you awaken in the middle of the night. But all you feel is the fabric of his silk bed sheets. You let out a quiet yawn, wondering where in the hell he could be as you stretch your arms over your head. His tee shirt is loose on your body, so soft and well worn as you get out of bed, searching for your best friend. The floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you glance out the window, checking to see if he’s gone out for a late night stroll.

That’s when you notice that the light in the bathroom is on. You walk toward the door, ready to call out to Felix, wanting to ask how long he’s going to be. As you raise your fist to knock on the door, you’re surprised when it creaks open ever so slightly. And you hear something strange. An almost strangled sort of noise. Knitting your brows together, you slowly push the door open.

And there he is, sitting in the tub. His head is lolled back, his breathing rapid and heavy as a low moan escapes his lips - one that sounds suspiciously like your name. And his face is so flushed that you wonder for a moment if he’s getting a summer flu. For a brief moment, you’re confused as to what he’s doing. It’s only when you hear the water sloshing ever so slightly and see the way his shoulder tenses that you realize what he’s doing.

You gasp, and though you want nothing more than to just rewind the last thirty seconds and pretend they never happened, Felix hears you. He flinches, eyes flying open as he turns to face you.

“Shit, Fel, I’m so sorry! I’m just gonna go!”

If his face was flushed before, you’re not sure there’s a word to describe how red it is now that he realizes you saw him in the throes of ecstasy, fucking his fist. Felix opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You cover your eyes, walking backward, trying to give him some semblance of privacy. But Felix doesn’t seem to want that.

His voice is strained as he blurts out, “No, wait! Please…”

You can hear him get out of the tub, the water splashing as you begin rambling, eyes still covered, “Seriously, it’s fine! You’re a guy, you were doing… Guy stuff. It’s none of my business!”

He laughs nervously, hands moving to your wrists to gently pull them away from your face, the heat building between the two of you as he finally speaks again, “Let me explain…”

You open your eyes slowly, only to scrunch them shut almost immediately, “You’re still naked!”

There’s a bit of a commotion, the sound of a few items being knocked over while, you assume, Felix grabs and wraps a towel around his waist. Though he clears his throat, an indication for you to open your eyes, you keep them shut.

“Look, mate, whatever you were doing? None of my business! I’m not judging!”

“No, no, that’s not the point,” you hear him heave a sigh, “Look, can you just open your eyes, please?”

“Cover your cock first, mate!”

“It’s covered, just look at me!”

You open your eyes slowly, glancing downward to make sure he is in fact wearing a towel before you meet his eyes, “It’s nothing against your cock, personally. It’s one of the nicer ones I’ve seen, in all honesty. Nice girth. Good length. Bit of a monster, innit? Someone’s been eating their fruit and veg!” You can tell Felix is struggling not to burst into laughter at your awkward words when you speak again, “Anyway, what’s up?”

He hesitates for a moment, “Do you… I mean… Could you please sit down? I need to tell you something.”

“Where the fuck do you want me to sit down? We’re in the bathroom.”

Felix blanches when he realizes you are, in fact, correct, mumbling, “Okay, okay, don’t sit. Just don’t go. Please. I just need to tell you something, okay?”

The two of you glance at the door when you hear it creak ever so slightly. But there’s no one there. Shrugging, you turn back to your best friend, leaning against the counter behind you as you acknowledge his words.

“Did you kill someone? Because if you did, I really don’t think I’m emotionally equipped for that at the moment, babes-”

“No, I didn’t kill anyone,” he rolls his eyes, “What I want to say, if you let me get a word out is…” He falters for a moment and you realize that whatever he’s about to say is important. That he’s struggling. You wait for him to speak, watching as he gathers the courage to finally say what’s on his mind, “I have feelings for you. I have for a really long time. And they’re only getting stronger and it’s making me fucking crazy.”

In that tiny moment, with those words, everything between the two of you has changed. Your eyes go wide, your breath catching in your throat at his admission. And for a minute, you’re rendered speechless.

“I… I didn’t expect that.”

Felix nods, covering his face with his hands. He seems almost ashamed that you caught him in this situation and that now he’s confessing his feelings for you. His best friend. His mouth opens, but again, no words come out. It’s going to have to be you that speaks this time.

“Were you…” You trail off, making a crude gesture with your fist, “Thinking of me then when I walked in?”

He swallows thickly, and nods, his voice barely above a whisper, “Yes.”

“Right,” you mumble, “Suppose that explains why you were moaning my name.” You pause, “Too soon?”

He nods, completely overwhelmed. You can only imagine how he’s feeling right now. Vulnerable. Exposed. Your normally cocky, confident best friend, a constant hit with the ladies, is reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess in front of you, unable to meet your gaze. You take a step closer to him, standing on your toes as you rest your hands on his cheeks.

“Hey, can you look at me?” You request gently, “Don’t get all shy on me now.” Felix opens his eyes and meets your gaze. You watch as his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breath quickening as the air seems to grow hotter and hotter between the two of you with each passing moment. “I’m not pissed or anything,” you promise him, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

It’s like a weight is lifted from Felix’s body, his shoulders sagging with relief as he rests his hands over yours. His confidence seems to slowly be returning to him as he smiles at you, holding your gaze. You’ve never seen him look at anyone like this before. He looks almost… Hungry.

“You alright now, Fel?”

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, not looking away from you once, his gaze trailing along your body.

You peck his cheek before stepping back, “Get some sleep. We’ll just forget this ever happened.”

Before you can turn away, he grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him, crushing you to his chest. You can feel his breath, warm against you, his voice low as he speaks, jaw set with determination.

“I don’t want to forget. I can’t forget. I… I want you so fucking bad, Princess. I… I have for so long now. I can’t let this moment just pass me by.”

You swallow thickly, your voice weaker than you intend it to be as you whisper, “What about Annabel? And India?”

He shakes his head, moving to cup your face in his hands, his grip so tender that it nearly makes your heart ache, “They’re lovely girls. But they’re not you. They’re not you.”

Felix stares into your eyes, searching for the answer to his unasked question, smiling at you as you whisper, “We’re best friends. This could ruin everything.”

“Or it could be everything we ever wanted.”

Felix leans in close, crowding you against the counter, his warmth so soothing against you. You’ve always felt so safe in his arms, so protected. And despite the conversation you’re having right now being the most terrifying one you’ve ever had in your life, you still feel that same safety as he caresses your cheek.

“I mean,” you breathe, gazing up at him through your lashes, “Jesus, I’ve always been mad for you. Anyone with eyes could see that. Except you, of course, you oblivious twat.”

He chuckles quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears, his fingertips tracing the contours of your face, “So you have feelings for me too? All this time?”

You scoff, laughing nervously, “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“I need to hear it from your own mouth,” he pleads, “Please… Just say it.”

You rest your hands on his bare chest, reveling in the warmth of his skin, taking a deep breath before you say the words that have been on the tip of your tongue all summer, “You’re my best friend. And I’m in love with you.”

One would think the heavens have parted and an angel has smiled at you, the way he glows with happiness as he gazes at you. And then? His lips find yours. And his kiss is filled with the emotions he has been concealing for so many years. Felix’s tongue moves against yours before his lips work their way down to your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he bites down just hard enough to leave his mark. You let out a yelp as he lifts you onto the counter behind you so that he doesn’t have to bend down as far anymore. You laugh against his lips as he moves to kiss you again, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Eager, aren’t we?” You tease.

Felix laughs, his breath warm against your neck as he speaks, “Sorry, love. Just wanted this for so long.”

“How long, baby?”

“As long as I can remember. It’s always been you. Everything else is meaningless. I’m crazy for you. You’re my first thought in the morning, my last thought at night.”

His words are almost enough to bring tears to your eyes as he captures your lips with his once again, your legs moving to wrap around his waist, “I’m crazy for you too, Fel. Completely fuckin’ mad for you, truth be told.”

Felix smiles into the kiss, moving to lift your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in just your panties. Your hands move to the towel that hangs loose around his waist, tugging at it, watching with bated breath as it joins your shirt in a crumpled heap, his long, thick cock now visible to you again. He’s so hard, you muse, your hand moving to slowly stroke his length while he rubs at you over the cotton of your panties. He grins at the fact that you’re already wet for him, and the two of you look at each other, silently deciding that you can’t be bothered with foreplay. Not when you’ve waited for this so fucking long.

You lift your hips so he can slide your panties down your legs, leaving the two of you completely bare and vulnerable in front of each other. Your hands move to rest against his chest as he aligns himself with your center, slowly pushing himself inside of you. The shuddering gasp he lets out makes you let out one of your own as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. Felix slots his hips against yours eagerly, filling you with every thrust. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with, but you know that even if he wasn’t, no one would ever make you feel as good as he does. He bucks his hips against yours, whispering in your ear.

“You feel so good, angel. So fucking perfect. My sweet princess. My baby girl. Love of my fucking life.”

A single tear falls down your cheek and he immediately moves to kiss you, your pleasure building to its crescendo as he continues rutting into you eagerly, his cockhead bullying against your sweet spot with every move. You hear that same creaking by the door again, but it’s so far in the back of your mind as you spill yourself on Felix’s cock, his own peak finding him mere moments later as he spends himself inside you, that you barely even register the noise.

The two of you look at each other, smiling and giggling before kissing once again, everything between you having changed.

“After all this time?” You whisper against Felix’s lips.

“Always,” he murmurs.

And just a few feet away, Oliver spills himself into his hand, letting out a low moan of your name, then Felix’s, the wheels in his head spinning as he wonders how the hell he’s going to worm his way into the relationship the two of you now share.

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