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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

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baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

{ masterpost : 1/2 }

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

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Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

{ part two here }

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x farleigh start #oliver quick smut #farleigh start smut #farleigh smut #farleigh start x reader x oliver quick #farleigh x reader x oliver #manic writer

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bratfiction · 4 months

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𝜗𝜚 summer loving, happened so fast

pairing -> felix catton x f!reader

warnings -> 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. drinking, smoking, exhibitionism, body worship, oral (f. receiving).

summers at saltburn— the air is still, the sun is unbearably bright for the hangover you’re nursing to handle, and your skin seems to be sticking to everything. even the grass beneath you is dewy with your sweat. your heart-shaped sunnies sit pretty on your face, shielding you from the sun’s assault as you lay peacefully, eyes fluttering shut.

felix hovers next to you. above you. the cigarette smoke curling around him and in the humidity makes you feel a bit sick, remembering how many you must’ve stolen from him and farleigh last night in your drunken state. a large hand, hot to the touch, spans over your bare stomach. long digits toy with the side ties on your bathing suit bottoms.

“it hasn’t even been an hour,” you murmur.

an hour since felix stuffed your face in his mattress to quiet your whimpering and mewling, enjoying you to the fullest before breakfast was even served. you nearly wince again when you remember the look venetia gave you— grimacing from the implications of your swollen lips and funny walk.

felix always has his way. you’re reminded of that constantly. when he takes you like you’re his favorite toy, and when he places his hand on your thigh under the table while scarfing down some toast directly after. and again, as he mounts you in the dry field, sweat trickling down his chest while he tries to reposition you. his cigarette is tossed to the side, still burning and smoking all on its own.

“never been a problem before,” his voice is airy. delicate.

he swoops down to kiss you. and you cant stop yourself from running your tongue over his bottom lip to pull a huffy, little moan from him. he’s already hard. you can feel his cock pressing against you. rutting up on your cunt through the front of your bikini bottoms and his trunks. yet felix has other plans. placing wet smooches down your neck, your chest, your soft tummy— laving his tongue over all the little dips and spots he loves the most as if you’re carved out of marble. his hands come up to push your breasts together, making you emit a small sound when he palms them gently through the cups of your suggestion of a top. at this point you cant find it in you to care who may possibly be watching.

your mind is hazy. overheated in every sense.

“felix,” you sigh his name so sweetly that he has no choice but to hum agaisnt your skin in return. you clear your throat, “what’re you doing?”

“jus’ wanna see...”

what a liar. him just wanting to see becomes him pulling the ties and peeling off your bottoms. becomes him stuffing his face between your supple thighs because now he just wants a taste. your fingers tug at his messy hair, curling the strands under and over them as you sing out into the subtle, mid-july breeze. beautifully keening his name while your toes curl against his back when he hooks your thighs over his broad shoulders. all so he can get a better technique, pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit until you’re squeaking out nonsense, cumming with just a few shakes of his head. it’s too easy to wind you up and have you falling apart on his face— or fingers, or cock— in mere moments.

but that’s the exact reason why felix brought you here.

#⌨️.kit's writing #🤍.saltburn #felix catton smut #saltburn smut #im so normal about him (lying)

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asumofwords · 1 year

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Masterlist

Hi I'm Tee! I write fanfic and am entirely feral. Smoke, Fire and Ash is my first ever fanfic and is still ongoing. I'm in my mid twenties, and have always enjoyed reading and writing! My AO3 is the same handle @asumofwords

I write for Aemond Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Larys Strong (lol), but am open to writing for other characters such as Joel Miller (TLA), Negan or Daryl (TWD), Loki, Bucky, Zemo, Venom, Miguel O'Hara (MARVEL), Frank Castle (Punisher), open to most GOT characters too.

But I'm also open to writing for other characters so it's best to just ask if you're unsure!! <3

Am excited to explore these characters in my writing in the future!

Currently my requests are CLOSED!

BOUNDARIES FOR REQUESTS: I will not write for anyone who is underage (actor and character) and I will not write anything for stepdad/stepchild fics.

If you would like to be added to a general writing tag list, click here.

Aemond Targaryen:

Smoke, Fire and Ash (COMPLETED)

Dark! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

The Sublet Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Modern!Aemond x Reader, Roommate!AU

Lighthouse - Miniseries - (COMPLETED)

Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Til Death Do Us Part - Oneshot

Dark!Modern!Aemond x Reader, Divorce!Au

Ettore from High Life:

Treat

Michael Gavey from Saltburn:

Midpoint Common Factors

REQUESTS:

Unsought Betrothal - Dark!Aemond Targaryen

Unsought Betrothal Part 2 - Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Cock sizes Drabble

What Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jace and Criston fancy.

Linger - Ghost!Aemond x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x Reader, Spooky Season >:)

If you wish to be put on the taglist, please let me know ! :)

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bookofbonbon · 3 months

Text

into the maze - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Plinth!Reader - Saltburn!AU

Warnings: Swearing. Saltburn spoilers. She pushes him, he pushes her.

Summary: Unable to handle your ignorance of him since his return, Coriolanus searches you out in the maze and confronts you.

Word Count: 1.3k.

A/N: Genuinely just obsessed with the maze scene from Saltburn and couldn't help but, think of pathetic little meow meow Coriolanus Snow as Oliver Quick lmao.

The heavy bass of the deafening music shook the very foundation of the Plinth Estate, every colour of the rainbow lighting up the night sky as Panem’s young Capitol elite all gathered to celebrate Coriolanus Snow’s 19th Birthday.

It was, by all accounts, the perfect birthday, the Plinth’s having gone above and beyond to ensure the event's perfection by spending a small fortune on it. He should’ve been happy, grateful for it but he wasn’t- it was hard for him to express any gratitude when the youngest of the Plinth family spared him naught but a glance and quiet uttering of happy birthday Coriolanus when he arrived- it was the most you’d spoken to him since he returned to the Capitol.

Taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, he watches you walk hand in hand into the distance with some Capitol boy. Anger swells in his chest, heat rising steadily up his neck as he watches you giggling and hanging off of someone who isn’t him and before he can really think of what he’s doing, Coriolanus finds his feet following after you and into the maze.

You don’t see him, don’t even hear him but, Coriolanus can see you and he can hear you; your angel wings alluding him with every corner you turn, your voice taking on an airiness he’d only ever heard when you were with him- he has to stop you before you make him do something you’ll regret so, when he reaches the centre of the maze, he calls your name.

Your startle, stumbling away from your nameless hookup of the night. With a hand pressed to your chest, you turn quickly trying to find the source of the voice as your heart raced beneath your palm.

“Oh my god.” You squint into the dark, immediately recognising the bleached-blonde hair. “Coryo? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Since his return from the Capitol you had seen him far more than you would’ve liked, your parents taking him under their wing since the death of your older brother. Several months ago, this scenario would’ve absolutely pleased you, to have the person you once thought yourself in love with always so nearby but, not now- not after the hunger games and Lucy Gray. Not when you knew the truth of his role in your brother’s death.

“I need to talk to you,” Coriolanus slurs before, turning to your nameless hook up. “And you? You need to fuck off.”

“No!” you grab ahold of your hookups arm. “You need to stay and Coriolanus, you need to leave.”

“I won’t tell you again,” Coriolanus suddenly threatens, voice hard and seemingly sober.

Your hookup looks at you with defeat in his eyes. The very real threat that Coriolanus could impose hanging over the both of you so, he mouths an apology and leaves.

“Oh god,” you groan, pressing your hands against your eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“We need to talk, you can’t keep ignoring me.”

“I can try,” you laugh in disbelief, dropping your hands to finally look at him properly.

He wears white jeans and a matching white, denim jacket - an intricate design of vines of roses sewn into the material - a fine trail of hair leading from his belly button and disappearing beneath his pants, his taut torso on display and antlers on his head.

“Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“No, we need to talk,” Coriolanus says, a certain urgency in his voice that puts you on alert as he closes in on you.

“Please, stop… we can’t- we can’t-”

You take a step back with each step that he takes closer to you but his strides are longer than yours and he’s on you before you can even blink; his hands warm and heavy, suffocating against your skin as he grips your arms and lowers his head, trying to force you to look at him.

“You can’t just throw me away-”

“Get the fuck away from me!” you shove him roughly away.

Running a hand down your face, you take a ragged breath but it’s expelled quickly, Coriolanus pushing you back just as roughly, cold hard stone pressing into your back.

“Look, I just gave you what you wanted-!” he cries desperately. “ It was all a show- all of it. I did it all for you- to give you the life you deserve. So, I’m sorry if my performance hurt you.”

You feel the rise and fall of Coriolanus’s chest against your own as he holds you in place with his body, one of his hands finding your jaw and forcing your attention- blue eyes blown almost black as he focuses on nothing else but you; the two of you so close together that you can’t help but notice that despite his slurring words, the stench of alcohol is nowhere to be found on his breath as you take a deep breath, then two- trying desperately to taper the fear now steadily growing inside of you; trapped between him and the Minotaur with nowhere to go.

“It didn't,” you lie. “But I think- I think you need to see somebody. Being a mentor, the games, your time in twelve, it’s all had an impact and I think- I think you need help, okay?”

“No, I don’t. I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you. You’re the only friend I ever had.”

His words send a chill down your spine.

Only friend.

You think of your brother. You think of Lucy Gray- both whom Coriolanus might’ve once considered friend - their missing presences, a frightening reminder of the fact that Coriolanus Snow still considering you friend was likely the only thing keeping you alive right now.

“Okay.”

You swallow thickly and try to ignore the tension in your jaw as you muster what little of a smile you could, hoping your lack of response would temper him, put his rambling to an end- but it doesn’t.

“I mean- doesn’t this just prove how much- how much of a good friend I actually am? How much I love you and know you? I know what everyone else says but, none of that matters as long as you know that I’m still the same person. Yeah? You know that, right? That I’m still the same person.”

His eyes bore into yours; warm and searching for your approval, desperate and pathetic. It gives you confidence, makes you feel brave enough to say what you really think.

With his face so close to yours, you watch his blue eyes dart back and forth between your own eyes and lips as he awaits your confirmation that everything will be alright- but it won't. You didn't know Coriolanus, you never did and you never want to.

“I thought I knew you, but, I don't. I don’t know what you are,” you whisper, voice steady. “But, I do know this, you make my fucking blood run cold.”

Coriolanus reels back, your words a hard slap in his face as he shoves you back slightly to remove himself from you.

He sniffles quietly, eyes wet with unshed tears before, he shoves a bottle you didn’t know he had into your chest and stumbles out of sight, the sound of vomiting following soon after.

“Coryo-” you call his name quietly. “Are you okay?”

You don’t know why you ask but, you do- perhaps it’s the small part of you that still cares-

“Fuck you.”

-you swallow it down with a drink from the bottle and tell him, “I think we should go to bed, tomorrow is a new day.”

You jolt as he stumbles into you from behind, pivoting to face you again as he snatches the bottle from your grip.

“I don’t care what you think anymore,” he laughs, raising the bottle toward you in toast. “I’m done with you.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air as he turns his back on you, his figure disappearing back into the maze; the last thing you hear being a faint, “goodbye, sweetheart.”

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo x you

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skybluewritings · 4 months

Text

Last Summer Part 2, Felix Catton x Fem!reader

word count: 2K

Masterlist

She would be staying with the Cattons for a month then return home a couple days before her flight to finish packing and give her tearful goodbyes. She paused the track on her iPod when she saw him pulling up to the station. Felix had insisted on coming himself to collect her despite her insistence that she was happy order a taxi.

The car came to a stop, she picked up the handle of her suitcase and walk down the steps of the station. Felix got out of his car, despite having seen each other only a week ago she couldn’t contain the rush of joy that seeing him brought. Her suitcase was momentarily discarded, she squealed as she flung her arms around his neck. His arms wound around her waist, he laughed as he lifted her a little. The wood and spice smell of his aftershave was intoxicating.

Once he had set her down she unwrapped her arms from his neck, grinning up at him. She glanced down noticing his arms were still around her waist, his palms resting on the small of her back. He also noticed this and immediately pulled away from her.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.”

Heat spread through her stomach. “No it’s uh quite alright.”

Neither spoke for a moment, Felix clapped his hands together. “Right, shall we?”

“Yes, yeah, let’s go!”

She went to pick up her suitcase but he had beat her to it.

“I’ll be taking that.” He told her.

She scoffed. “I think I’m more than capable of carrying a suitcase.”

He shrugged. “Nope don’t care."

“You vex me.” She sighed, opening the car door and dropping into the seat.

“You love me really!” He sang, taking the suitcase and opening the car boot.

He was closer to the truth than he would ever know.

The car sped through the countryside, it was a bright and blazing day. The roof the convertible was down, the wind making her hair dance all around her. The upbeat tempo of music vibrated through the vehicle. She rested her arm against the window ledge, choosing to subtly gaze at Felix through her cat eye sunglasses. It was unfair how good he looked in his ray-ban sunglasses, her eyes traced the sharp curve of his jawline.

“I can feel you staring.” He said.

“I was very much not!” She replied defensively, looking away from and at the rode ahead.

“I’m not blind.” She couldn’t see him but she knew he was smirking.

“You flatter yourself too much.” She teased.

“I don’t think I flatter myself enough.” He replied, she playfully smacked his arm knowing he was joking. It may have seemed like a narcissistic thing to say but when it came down to it there wasn’t much about Felix that was self obsessed. He was not unaware of his own attractiveness but he didn’t carry himself in the way most vain men would.

“So how much further?” She asked.

“Another couple minutes I reckon.”

“Is there anything you haven’t told me that I should know? Like that your family is actually a coven of aristocratic vampires.”

“Just my mum!” He told her, before shaking his head. “No, there isn’t much that you don’t know already. My family can be somewhat traditional but pretty welcoming overall.”

“Will I be presented to your mum in the fashion of a debutante at court?”

He laughed. “Yes then you’ll be forced to dance a waltz with my dad.”

This made her laugh. “Sounds sexy.”

“Thank you for agreeing to come I really do appreciate it.” He told her taking her hand and giving it a warm squeeze.

She squeezed it back. “You’re welcome, I’m always here for you.”

“You too.” He said finally letting go of her hand.

Her pulse was far too fast and so was her spiralling mind. How was she going to manage a month with him?

They finally drove through the gates of Saltburn, as cliche as it sounded her mouth nearly fell open in sheer shock. It was the most elegant home she had ever seen. She knew he came from a lot of money but was still taken aback by the extravagance of it all. The car drive came to a stop inside a large garage full of a variety of old expensive cars.

Felix came round to her side opening the car door for her, in a gesture she thought only happened in old films.

“Thank you.” She told him with a smile.

He smiled back. “My mum would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

“I would have thought someone else parked your car for you?” She pointed out.

“Sometimes I like to do things for myself.” He explained matter of fact.

She supposed that was a fair answer, truthfully, she had no clue how the rules of anything of this worked. This was an extreme version wealth which she had never encountered before.

He opened the boot of the car, and she took out her suitcase pulling it behind her as they left the garage.

They reached the main foyer of the house, it had wide cavernous ceilings with various patterns carved into it. An older man in a suit dipped his head at them politely.

“(Name) this is Duncan the head Butler.”

Head Butler?! She thought. Was she in Pride and Prejudice?

Duncan gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” She replied trying to mimic his formal tone.

“I will have your luggage taken to your room.” Duncan told her.

(Name) waved her hands. “Oh no really it’s okay I can take it.”

Duncan’s face became more pinched. “No please I insist.”

Yeah she was not going to try argue with him.

“Well thank you then.” She said awkwardly.

She looked on helplessly as Duncan commanded another butler to take the suitcase.

Felix clearly sensing her discomfort pat her on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to the conservatory my mum will be dying to meet you.”

There were three women in the conservatory, they were all sat on ornate chairs that faced opened glass doors. Two of the women were engrossed in a story the blonde woman was telling them. She stopped speaking when she noticed her friends had stopped paying attention to her and to instead the new arrivals. The blonde woman turned to see what they were staring at, her whole face lit up.

“My goodness darling you do know how to pick them don't you.” The blonde woman (who she had worked out was his mother) said to Felix.

She elegantly stood from her chair and practically sauntered toward them.

“This is my mum, Elspeth.” He told her.

“Lovely to meet y-“ Her words were cut off when Elspeth grabbed both sides of her face tilting it to one side then the other. (Name) winced at having her face manhandled.

“Mum stop that!” Her best friend scolded, gently swatting his Mother’s prying hands away.

Elspeth bought her hands to her chest. “I do apologise it’s just that I’m trying to figure out what it is about your beauty that draws my son in. I think it might be your eyes they’re rather lovely.”

It was a strange compliment, but still a compliment she supposed. “Oh thank you.” She said with a nervous smile. “However I’m pretty sure my physical appearance doesn’t really play a part in my friendship with Felix!”

Elspeth furrowed her brow. “Friendship?” She looked to her son. “Felix I thought she was your girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?!

He sighed. “Mum, I explicitly told you I had a friend coming to stay.”

“But the way you so lovingly spoke about her-“

“Anyway,” Felix said slightly too loud. “I am sure (Name) will want to get settled into her bedroom, we’ll see you for dinner.”

“But really it is wonderful to have you stay dear.” Elspeth told her kindly.

She found herself smiling genuinely. “Thank you.”

Felix led her out the conservatory with the same speed she led him out of the party.

Felix fell back onto the bed in the guest bedroom. He covered his face with both hands groaning into them. “Oh god I’m sorry, that was so embarrassing.”

She perched on the bed next to him. “I-I mean it wasn’t too bad. Your mum seems to at least like me!”

“Yeah I guess.” He removed his hands from his face. “But how could she imply that you and I-as if I am not capable of just having female friends.”

“You seemed to be pretty good friends with a lot of the girls at Oxford.” She snickered, pretending it didn’t hurt to know that.

He rolled his eyes. “How do you know?”

She flopped down next to him and playfully elbowed him. “I mean you weren’t exactly subtle in hiding it everyone kind of knew.”

“Is that really how you see me?”

She turned to lie on her side. “No of course not-sorry I was only teasing.”

He didn’t look at her, instead picking at the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t like the idea that a bunch of people can just decide something about me, like they know me. I always made it clear I never wanted anything more from the people I was with. I’m not some heartless fuck boy. It makes me feel uncomfortable that some people might have that view of me...”

“Well I don’t.” She said softly. “No one’s perfect but you aren’t a bad guy, people know that even if they see your exploits differently to how you did.”

He now looked at her. “What do you think of me?”

Where should she start? “I think you’re just one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and that well-I can’t believe I’m existing in the same room as you.”

Maybe the last part was too much, but she couldn’t help it if she meant it. His lips parted at her words, he seemed at a momentary loss for words as he stared at her stunned. His full lips looked so inviting parted like that, it wouldn’t have taken her much to lean forward and find out. She chose to sit back up this was becoming too dangerous for her.

She cleared her throat. “Do with that what you will.”

He seemed to snap back to reality gradually sitting up next to her. “I’m sorry it took me a minute, it’s just- no one’s ever really said anything like that to me before.” He swallowed hard.

“Maybe it’s time that someone should.” She admitted.

He gave her a grateful smile that made everything inside her melt away. The moment passed when he stood up from the bed and offered out his hand to her which she gladly took as he pulled her to her feet. “Come on I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

Tag list: @emitaylorsverson

#felix catton x fem!reader #felix catton #saltburn #friends to lovers #jacob elordi

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 2 months

Text

the baftas: my eyes need bleach after the livestream chat.

I SAID I WOULD COME TO TUMBLR AND SLUT-SHAME ALL OF YOU, AND YOU BET YOUR GODDAMN BILDADDY I'M HERE TO DO IT. First, a huge thank you to @good-usernames-were-taken, Valerie, for enabling this entire chaos and streaming it. And of course to Disappointment the Main Maggot.

Second, as per requests from you maggots, I have to give an honourary mention to the tragic lack of an emotional support gaseous orange, the late half-eaten packet of Lays on my desk, and my nearly empty can of Monster energy. Idk either, you asked for the mentions you got them.

Without further ado, presenting the BAFTA Awards 2024:

I am busy drawing out the neckline stitches of Crowley's wedding dress, when I am reminded of the stream and I crash into it midway. Little do I know what I am getting into.

Everyone is here for David Tennant. No one is here for the actual awards. This is made very clear very quickly.

KNEES. JUST KNEES. ALL EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT, THROUGHOUT THE STREAM, IS DAVID TENNANT'S KNEES. ARE YOU ALL OKAY WHAT THE FRESH HELL.

For context, David is in a kilt for the first half. I finally see why my relatives disapprove of skirts above knee-length. I never knew humanity's unholy worship of knees till I came here.

SOMEONE ASKS IF DAVID HAS TANNED HIS KNEES. MAGGOTS. PLEASE.

We interrupt our regular scheduled program of David knees to have an intense discussion about British versus French humour, and the misgendering of croissants.

RDJ wins an award and calls his wife his Alpha and Omega.

We're back to the knees. I can't handle how slutty David's knees are, says a worthy maggot.

This goes into a discussion about tickets for David's Macbeth, because, you guessed it, the kilt and the knees.

A lot of gorgeous and talented women in the BAFTAs tonight. I am floored.

I am not allowed to dwell in my awe because the chat is not a place of the lord. Curtain calls of Macbeth are discussed with unnecessary lasciviousness.

Thankfully, in the midst of this, I get a great Zodiac pattern reference for Crowley's wedding dress cummerbund. I was going to have to research the night sky for star charts but this is better.

People show their beautiful brainrot-induced Doc Marten purchases.

The knee thirst has moved into X-rated territory. I am terrified.

A song is sung in memory of film industry people who passed away this year, and people are sad about Dumbledore but at the same time are imagining Aziraphale and Crowley dancing to the song. The brainrot is real.

I accidentally spoil Saltburn's freakshow for someone. When I ask how I can make up for it, they say something about GOAD. I'm alarmed. Is that an OnlyFans, I ask. It's Good Omens After Dark, the chat answers. Is THAT an OnlyFans, I ask. Close enough, the chat says.

David has now changed outfits to a suit, which finally makes people pay attention to the BAFTAs, if only to alternatively thirst over the suit and bemoan the loss of knees.

Things, uh, happen, which I will have to include as quotes in another post. Cheers, @thearoacemess and @vitrilol.

Barty Crouch Jr is debated about as the Wolfstar child. Bratty Crouch Jr is said to be Crowley.

I obtain a banana, which I associate with blowjobs.

@thearoacemess talks about someone deepthroating a seven-inch banana without a hitch.

The stream does a flashback to the kilt time. It is a mistake. @queermarzipan barrels in and is being too slutty about the knees.

I tell them they need jesus, and they yell about how they've gone to mass twice today and they're an atheist.

Thankfully, @vitrilol starts chanting about the glory of Ireland. The only thing that will distract Marzipan from David Tennant is Ireland.

He proceeds to start screech-singing in all caps.

🎵IRELAND IIIRELAND TOGETHER STANDING TALLLL.🎵

The BAFTAs end. People are still thirsting over David Tennant.

🎵I KNOW YOU'RE MISSING HOME IT'S SO LONG SINCE YOU'VE BEEN🎵

Uh, more dubious things about David, suits and the absence of said suits are discussed. I'm trying my damndest not to notice.

🎵AND THE LIFE YOU HAD IN DUBLIN NOW AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A DREAM🎵

There is accidental Mascot lore: I am apparently from a different timeline (I mixed up timeline and timezone) and that's how Apollo deposited me in an illegal sushi restaurant where I became Neil Gaiman and Michael Sheen's intellectual child.

I am compared to a cat.

TOM HIDDLESTON AND DAVID TENNANT WERE IN THE STAGED-LIKE THING IN THE BEGINNING AHAHAHAHAH LOKI AND CROWLEY MY TWO CELESTIAL GENDERFLUID ICONS.

OKAY so I will end the summary here and make a list of out of context quotes in a new post. Because. Boy oh boy. That deserves its own post.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #david tennant #bafta 2024 #good omens #maggots #good omens fandom #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #michael sheen #bafta awards #bafta #bafta livestream #tom hiddleston #loki #ireland #macbeth

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moon-child-goddess · 4 months

Text

When we say goodbye Pt 1

Pairings: Druig X LightBender!Eternal!Reader (Fem)

Summary: Druig and readers time together before he leaves the group. The beginning of her descent into darkness.

Warnings: MCU Violence, Blood, Fighting, I used Fem pronouns, some fluff and angst. Time Jumps

Author's note: I watched Saltburn and then Eternals, got an Idea so here we are my first ever thingy thing. This is part one. I got carried away…. I hope you all enjoy it!

Part Two Part Three

Intricate gold patterns trailed up Y/Ns arms as she used the sunlight around her to create a massive hawk. It took off, sinking its glowing talons into the deviant’s eyes. The creature let out a strangled shriek before biting the bird. The golden creature dissolved in its jaws. Y/N pulled more light together, throwing it at the ugly monster. The ground rumbled under her feet as it fell over. It held the force of a mini earthquake. She used all the strength in her legs to keep from toppling over. Usually, Y/N had to have help from Thena or one of the other Eternals help her take the deviants down. She could wound them but hardly ever executed.

A deviant that was hidden in the tree line focused on the Y/H/C-haired girl. She stood over its friend, a wide victorious smile on her face. And did a small dance, proud of herself. It huffed out before taking off toward her. The creature now behind Y/N raised a clawed hand, slashing it through the air with the force of hurricane winds. An ear-splitting scream passed her lips while the deviant’s razor-sharp nails ripped through her flesh. Cutting right through her like a perfectly done steak. A searing heat of pain ran through her body.

"Y/N!" Druig cried out. Within a heartbeat, he took off running to her. Leaving Kingo and Thena to fend for themselves. He knew they were more than capable of handling their situation. After all, Thena could take three deviants down in the blink of an eye.

Gilgamesh neutralized the deviant attacking the girl, effectively preventing it from killing Y/N. More deviants came out of the trees to defend their fallen, pulling him back to Thenas side. There were more of the creatures in this area than anywhere the group had been before. They were multiplying like bunnies in the spring.

Druig knelt in Y/N's blood as it soaked in to the forest's floor and carefully pulled her head to his lap. His eyes flitted over the crimson wounds, muttering a sorry when a whimper escaped her. Through the blurry haze of pain, she could make out a deviant coming toward the two of them. No one besides Y/N seemed to notice the thing. Without another thought, she used the small patch of sunlight by her fingers directing the stream of light to blind the monster. Cerci took care of the rest.

"Saved my ass again, my sunshine." He smiled that breathtaking smile, pushing her hair out of her face. Druig took a deep breath wiping any emotions he showed off his face. He didn't want to worry his friend.

"I think we are even now," she spoke, inhaling sharp breaths with each word.

Ajak got down by the two, placing her hands on Y/N. A numb, tingling feeling ran through her. It felt like her limbs were waking up after sleeping on them wrong. Even with how many times Ajak has used her abilities on her, it was a sensation she would never get used to. Once Ajak was finished, Y/N thanked her. Honestly, the group would have been dead if Arishem hadn't given them Ajak.

Y/N got up to her knees and faced the black-haired menace she called her best friend. She bit her lip, not finding the words she wanted to say. ‘Thank you…I love you.’ Instead, she hugged him. Druig buried his face in her neck, inhaling in her smell overwhelmed his senses. A reminder she was still there.

“You’re still here,” he murmured against her neck, causing chills to run down her spine.

“You would miss me if I was gone. Who would accidentally hurt Ikaris for you." Y/N joked, pulling away to look into his beautiful blue eyes.

"You don't even know." He responded. Ruffling her hair before helping her up.

---------

Thena dodged at Y/N. They were training in a secluded area of a beach. The girl side stepped out of the way effectively blocking the blonde warrior. Thena tried a right hook and Y/N used her arm to block the hit. That was the fourth time in a row. Which was a major improvement.

“See I can fight” Y/N giggled as Thena threw another punch at her.

“You have some things to work on, for your safety.” Thena responded. She was doing this for Y/N, but Druig had begged her to help. He never asked for anything so she gladly complied.

Y/N managed to hook her leg over Thena’s. Effectively pulling her down on the sand. She straddled the warrior with a victory smile. Sounds of claps met her ears from a distance. Looking up it was Makkari cheering her on. Thena used the distraction to flip over and pin Y/N down. She wore the victory smirk now.

“You cheated”

“You lost focus.” Thena pulled her up.

“Did you want me to kill you?” Y/N asked exasperated.

“No, but let's go again. This time I won't go easy”

“Easy?” That was outrageous.

Y/N made the first move this round of sparing. Thena effortlessly dodged the attack knocking Y/N down. She glared up at the women, more determined to win. She got up and tried again only to be knocked on her ass once again. Grains of sand fell into her clothes, and stuck to her sweat. Her hair was all over the place too she knew she had to have looked crazy. Her chest heaved as she began to catch her breath.

Thena put an arm out to help her up but dropped her halfway up. The blonde woman smiled down at her. Y/N heard a laugh this time. She knew that laugh like it was the air she needed to breathe. He must have made his way over with Makkari. Those two were attached at the hip lately.

“Shut up Dru.” she called out to her dark haired friend, and bit down on her lip.

Thena helped Y/N back up and got her to her feet this time. Nodding at the girl to go again. There was a moment of hesitation before she lunged back at her screaming. This time she grazed Thena with her fingers, and escaped the movement the warrior made to grab her. There was at least 7 feet between them now. They both waited for the other to make a move. Thena started to go for Y/N’s right but swerved for the left taking the girl for surprise and once again putting her on the sandy floor.

Y/N huffed out, defeated and done for the day. She covered her face with her aching arms. This hit was going to bruise. Druig laughed again.

“Once again, shut up Dru.” He apologized but his tone was joking. She knew he was too amused to mean it.

“You are doing well. In another week you will be able to defend yourself flawlessly.” She pulled Y/N back up to her feet. Signing to Makkari to join her in the city.

Druig was distracted by the sweat glinting off Y/N’s body as she made her way to sit next to him. She dug her bare feet into the warm sand resting her head on her knees. He rubbed her back watching the ocean's waves roll on to the shore.

“You are improving sunshine.” She grunted at his words.

‘Lies’ she thought leaning in to him. Her body hurt all over.

---------

Y/N ran through the crowded town square knocking into some people. She ignored the glares thrown her way, too focussed on finding her friend. She wanted to show him something exciting. He was going to love it. It thrilled her to know she was going to see that soft smile of his.

“Druig!” Y/N yelled when his head of hair came into view. As soon as he heard her voice, he dropped what was in his hands, looking for her. A small smile fought its way onto his face as she ran towards him. She quickly closed the remaining distance between them before he could even step forward.

"Yes, my sunshine?" His smile widened as he watched her bounce on the balls of her feet. Obviously excited about something.

"Come with me. I want to show you something." Y/N grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. She whisked him off toward the forest. He didn't have the opportunity to say no. Not that he would have denied her anything. He would have walked across hot coals if she so much as asked.

They came to a halt in the middle of a clearing of varying purple colored flowers. Y/N stood, so she was right in front of him, stealing his attention. He used their joined hands to pull her closer. A sparkle crossed his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. He glanced down at her soft lips. Their lips were a breath away from what they both wanted, but they were too stubborn to do anything.

"Ok, close your eyes, no peeking." she bit down on the inside of her cheek, untangled their fingers, and took a step back. Druig frowned. And reached out to her. She shook her head.

"I swear, Y/N, if this is a trick. I will not talk to you ever again." That was a lie. Even if it wasn't, she would wear him down. She knew all the right buttons to push to get his attention. A soft musical laugh escaped her before she responded. He yearned to bottle that sound up for a cloudy day.

"Dru, it's not. Now place your hands over your eyes, and no using your powers." He poked her in the side, straightening up before complying with her demands. It earned him another laugh.

Druig could sense her tongue sticking out. Y/N had always done that when she was concentrating. He knew her better than he knew himself. He paid attention to every detail for centuries and stored them in his memory. Druig could read her like an open book. Sometimes he wondered if she knew all her little quirks. How she tousled her hair when she was stressed or when her nose twitched when she wanted to yell.

After a couple minutes, Druig's hands were tugged away from his face. He kept his eyes closed, waiting for her to be truly ready. Afraid to ruin her surprise. Y/N once again laced their fingers together. Druig squeezed her palms, rubbing his thumb across her soft skin. He could stay like this forever, just the two of them. Although, he would prefer to actually see her.

"Open." It felt like an eternity before he did as she asked.

The scene in front of him was ethereal. Thousands of gold butterflies fluttered around them. Y/N watched as Druigs sapphire blue eyes followed the movements of her creations. There was a lone black one that flew past his face. It looked more like a moth than a butterfly. It landed on a rock before vanishing.

Druig’s whole body was relaxed for the first time in a while. He stared at the spectacle in front of him in utter disbelief. With an extended finger, he coaxed a butterfly to land on it. It spread its wings out as he pulled it up closer to examine. There were delicate patterns on the wings. They looked like any regular butterfly, just dipped in liquid gold.

Druig set the thing on Y/Ns nose and dragged the finger past her lips pulling at her bottom lip and rested on her chin. Her nose scrunched up as the insect walked across her cheek. An affectionate smile took over his face, and his eyes dilated. His finger lingered on her chin a second longer, watching as the butterfly disappeared.

She had butterflies; anytime he touched her or simply looked her way. With that look, he reserved for her alone. It was softer than he ever looked at Makkari. Butterflies were there at the thought of him.

"How is this possible? You can usually only create one thing at a time." Druig pulled them both down. He sat on the cold ground and her on his lap. He snaked an arm around her waist, holding her close. He rested his chin on her soft hair, keeping his gaze on the moment playing out before him.

"I'm not sure I was playing around, and bam. Butterflies." Y/N paused, making an exploding gesture with her hands. She looked like a kid on their birthday, giddy.

“Not the most frightening thing. But hey, I did it."

"This is wonderful. My beautiful, beautiful sunshine." Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, watching the glittering butterflies disappear with the sunset. Druig played with her hair absentmindedly, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

----

Y/N stood in the forest with everyone listening to Ajak lecture Druig about controlling the humans. Thena began to twitch and mumble inaudible things next to her. Y/N truly thought it was another insult toward Druig, but she couldn't hear anything as Phastos began yelling. Thena started to speak a little louder this time.

“Thena?” Sersi said, turning to us looking concerned. “Are you ok?”

“Everyone is going to die” Thenas eyes went a foggy white, and she summoned a polearm ready to attack.

“Sersi!” Y/N cried out trying to get in front of her before Thena could attack. Makkari reacted instantly before the rest of the group knew what was happening, and pulled Sersi out of the warrior's way. Druig focused on Y/N’s cries.

Chaos broke out instantly. The golden weapon managed to hit Phastos. Y/N tried to summon something but there was no light available to pull from. The darkness moved slightly casting shadowy lines on the ground, but she couldn't gain control of them. Druig yanked her out of the way as Makkari took off with Thena.

Before Druig could even try to stop her, she went running after them.She ran as fast as she could trying to have half the speed Makkari had. He called out to stop her, but she was too far gone, trying to protect those she cared about.

Makkari was hurt on the forest floor. Thena waved her weapon around frantically, nicking the girl in front of her. Drawing blood. Y/N let out a hiss. Was it dumb to run after someone when she can't fight? Absolutely, but she wanted to protect her family. Thena was about to make a fatal blow, but Ajak stopped it with her hand. She showed no emotion as she stared the warrior down. It was chilling.

Y/N used the distractions as her opportunity to get to her friend who was laying still. She put pressure on Makkari’s wound to slow the blood loss.Throwing her whole weight on it, which caused the girl under her to flinch.

“It's ok. We will fix this.” Y/N spoke, trying to keep calm while waiting for Ajak to come. Hoping Makkari would understand her.

Druig knelt next to her putting his hands on top of A/N’s. A worried look flashing through him as he caught sight of the cut on her arm. Ajak was over in no time working on healing them. Gilgamesh stood by looking absolutely guilty for what he had done to Thena.

Druig pulled Y/N to a river washing her hands in the cool water. It was slowly grounding the girl back to reality. He murmured gentle affirmations to her as he scrubbed at her skin.

Once again, Druig and Ajak were arguing about the humans. They were all in the confines of a pyramid now. Ikaris involved himself always acting as if he was the one incharge. He threatened Druig. They frequently fought about something stupid and made empty threats. Normally Y/N would defend him. But she was overwhelmed with the dry blood that remained under her nails and Thena laying in front of her. Y/N had found it easy to tune them out through the centuries, turning them into background noise. Her second favorite person was hurting, and she couldn't fix it. This wasn't fair, she thought. Ajak couldn't even truly fix it. Her powers had limits, just like the rest of the group.

Intense words continued to be traded amongst the group. A malicious tone was hidden behind every spoken thought. Ajak stayed calm; she was the only one with a level head. Y/N stood stark still in a corner, keeping quiet. She tried to become one with the wall behind her. Her eyes were glued to the colorful walls, begging internally for them to calm down and stop.

Eventually, a stark silence took over the room. Cries of the innocent outside seemed to disappear through the walls. Y/N glanced up, examining the small space. Druig was rushing out. No one moved from their place to stop him. They just watched.

Y/N began to hyperventilate; the air was thinning out. Dru wasn't going to say goodbye? Was our friendship a lie? Did he only put up with me for entertainment? Poisonous thoughts raced through her head. Her feet had their own mind and made her take off after him.

"Druig!" Y/N Shouted, bolting down the stairs. She wanted to beg him to stop… to come back and say it was all a sick joke. She yearned for him to tell her he would never leave her behind.

‘Stay with me, please.’ She begged him subconsciously. Her thoughts were so loud that she was half convinced he could hear them when he flinched. Y/N knew it was selfish, but she needed him

A choked sob escaped her as her feet hit the flat ground. It felt as if her heart was making its way to her throat. The thing beat rapidly against her ribs like a stampede of gazelles being chased as prey. It was almost painful.

"Dru, please." He didn't respond, only walked at a faster pace. Y/N yelled out again. One last desperate attempt to get his attention.

This time, he stopped surrounded by the people under his control. Y/N blinked back the tears, threatening to fall. She placed a hand over her mouth, smothering a sob. Druig’s hands clenched into tight fists. He watched the people in front of him, all unmoving not even a blink.

"Please- Please don't leave me." Y/N’s voice cracked. Deep inside her soul, she knew this was goodbye. He turned to face her, eyes dilated. Instead of sapphire blue, she was met with black pools of obsidian. She stepped forward. The people were already on the defense with her movements towards the Eternal. Druig stopped them immediately she was no threat, and no harm would come to her at his hand.

"My beautiful, beautiful sunshine. I have to go. Arishems plan is not for me.” Druig cautiously wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. He never wanted to be the reason for those tears, but this was what was best for her. She would regret leaving with him, and he couldn't ask her to leave the people she loved so much. Y/N closed her eyes. Tipping her head up to the starry sky, she let out a depleted laugh.

“You are going to do wonderful things." He mumbled. Before he could stop it, he pulled her in for a hug. Druig held on tighter than usual. She wrapped herself around his frame, taking in the comfort of his hold. He buried his face in her neck. They fit together perfectly. As if they were sculpted for each other. They were two pieces of a puzzle meant to be lost. He pulled away slowly and tucked loose strands of Y/N's hair behind her ears. Then placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose before resting his forehead against hers.

"Please." she choked on her tears, reaching out to cup his face. She held on to him like one would hold an injured bird. Druigs eyes flashed through emotions before going blank. Oh how he wanted to be selfish, but he couldn't ask her to leave. He wiped away another tear, yearning to stop her pain. Their lips were mere inches apart. He could take the one thing he's wanted since he met her on that ship. But he couldn't do that to her. He was a selfish man, just not when it came to her.

"You need them, and they need you." He took a step back and locked his jaw. It took everything in his soul to not reach out and grab her. He forced himself to walk away.

"No." She whispered as she watched him retreat through the flaming city. Her heart shattered with each step he took with his new followers. A darkness began to fill in the cracks.

"I-I need you." she whispered to the air once he was gone.

#druig x reader #druig imagine #eternals imagine #eternals x reader #marvel imagine

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yesimwriting · 4 months

Note

yes i want more felix and oliver !!

a/n i love when people enable me :)

this could be read as taking place at some point after match burns (though this isn't part 2!) but can also easily be read on its own

---

The world has been dulled by a drowsiness so thick and full it's disorientating. You're so tired, so trapped in the state between falling and asleep that it's hard to think. Despite this, he somehow manages to be a bright spot, so warm and safe any and all thoughts of dangers lurking in the shadows are slowly vanishing.

You don't remember Felix getting here. You're not sure when he entered your room through your shared bathroom or when he laid down next to you or when he started tracing soothing patterns against your shoulder. All you know is that there was a nightmare that latched onto the ghosts estates this grandiose and ancient seem to attract and then there was Felix.

By morning, when you'll no longer need Felix to serve the purpose of daylight, you'll be embarrassed. Even now, you're still half-aware of the fact that there's a lot about this that you should find mortifying. Felix knowing to come in and wake you means you must have been showing signs of distress while asleep. Having a nightmare during your first night at Saltburn is a little pathetic, but it's something you can live with. However, needing Felix to stay with you until you fall asleep is a juvenile kind of pathetic that you don't think you could get through.

"Thanks for..." Your voice feels small and far away, but you don't think you can manage anything more concrete. "Waking me up."

Felix's fingertips continue the pattern they've been outlining against your skin without hesitation. "It's nothing," he whispers, "You were tossing and turning so much." Yeah, you'll definitely be embarrassed tomorrow. "Feel better now?"

You manage a nod. "Yeah..." Your eyes fall shut, you have to force yourself to open them again. "Better." Maybe if you sat up or--or moved away, you'd be able to focus. You shift, but you're too tired and, honestly, comfortable for it to be productive. "So, if you...if you want to go back...that'd be okay."

The lack of desire to get the words out paired with the need to remain polite, to make sure that he doesn't think you don't appreciate the gesture makes the words feel awkward. Felix's hand moves down to your arm. He angles his head forward, so close you can feel his breaths against your cheek. "Do you want me to?"

His words are soft, voice low and slightly gravelly. You're reminded of Felix in a world that feels so far from the one you're currently in, seeing him at parties, around the girls he'd pick from time to time.

There would always be a flurry of them around him, but you could always tell which one he was actually entertaining because of the way he'd become attentive. His ability to make someone seem like the only person in the world has always been fascinating. It's a talent that's more than romantic, too. It's part of the reason everyone always wants to be around him.

"No." The confession is faint as it accidentally tumbles past your lips.

The honesty of it knots something in your stomach. It's more than fear or the inability to fall asleep. You want Felix to stay. That's it. There's no reason or justification for it, you just...you want Felix.

But there are social boundaries, and things that you can't do with friends. Intentionally sleeping in the same bed, especially as close together and touchy as the two of you are being, is definitely one of those things.

There has to be a way to explain it without tiptoeing into territory that you're incapable of handling. Especially when it comes to Felix, who you spent an entire semester trying not to fall in love with. You survived by the skin of your teeth just to be invited to spend the summer with his family. You feel like an idiot for thinking you'd be able to get through this.

"Okay." He says it like it's that easy, like that's the only thing worth considering. "Then I'll stay." You're not sure if he can sense your uncertainty, but he's quick to tack on a justification, "Need you well rested." The vague feel of embarrassment attempts to nip at you again. "I know it can be hard to get used to it here."

It's a phrase that would seem like a blanket statement of instinctual politeness from anyone else, but from Felix it feels real, his understanding almost tangible. It's enough to make you fully ease.

"It's still nice, though." An understatement you would've never let slip past you if your eyelids weren't growing heavier by the second. Nice is such a bland term, it almost feels like an insult, especially when considering the fact that you're not just talking about his home. "I'm glad you invited me."

His touch has now moved to concentrate on your forearm. "I'm glad you came." A beat of silence stretches between you, your eyes finally falling shut. Felix's fingertips brush against the inside of your wrist. If you were any more awake, the carefulness of the touch would have gotten to you. "It is still nice."

----

The lack of light bleeding into the hall from beneath the door that leads to Felix's room makes the air entering Oliver's lungs feel stale.

It's late enough that the darkness could mean nothing. Felix's extra curriculars of choice have him in the habit of keeping strange hours. It's more common than not for him to up until the wee hours of the nights, even if there's nothing for him to do. However, from time to time the long nights will catch up to him and he'll fall asleep early.

Oliver can almost convince himself that that's all this is, can practically picture Felix fast asleep above the covers and only half undressed. He would be able to believe it if it wasn't for the soft glow illuminating the space beneath the door that leads to your room.

A familiar tightness forces his ribs to contract. Oliver swallows, stepping towards the door to Felix's room. He knows you to be a late night reader from time to time...

His hand is now grasping the door handle. There's nothing inherently strange about what Oliver's doing. Felix did say to come find him if Oliver had trouble sleeping. He pulls the door open slowly, taking his time to make sure that the creek of the old hinge's stays as quiet as possible.

Oliver peers into the room. The darkness isn't easy to see in, but eventually he makes out slightly tousled sheets on an empty bed and the door to the bathroom cracked open.

Of course it'd take so little time for you to completely pull Felix into your orbit. An entire semester of Felix doting on you and you managed to commit to keeping him at arm's length. One night in his family's home and you're suddenly no longer cautious. Maybe you're not as noble as you try to seem.

He's approaching the door to the bathroom, unsure if seeing it would be as unbearable as imagining it. Felix's hands on you, your body pressed against his.

"Hello?" Felix's voice carries over from the other side of the bathroom, slightly confused but casual. "Oliver?"

Oliver swallows, blood running cold despite the fact that all that he's been caught doing is justifiable. He forces himself to walk forward, to open the door to the bathroom fully. "Yeah."

Oliver crosses over, opening the door to your bedroom with an uncomfortable lump in his throat.

What he sees isn't--Felix is sitting up, the bedside lamp closest to him turned on, an open book held in one hand and your sleeping form holding onto the other. It's not the coming together, the snapping of tension and desire he had been imaging. In many ways, its something worse.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Swallowing down the influx of emotion that Oliver isn't capable of dealing with, he nods blankly. "Yeah. Still adjusting."

"It's normal," Felix replies easily, "She couldn't sleep either."

Felix's solution for you not being able to sleep was to crawl into bed with you. It shouldn't matter, he's seen the two of you get away with displays of affection more nauseating than this on campus. Lingering kisses against each other's cheeks and foreheads and jaws during a night out, holding onto each other at the few parties you agree to attend, Felix tucking you into bed after you drink. But this is--this is a touchiness not hidden under the guise of alcohol.

Oliver nods again. "Oh."

"Fell asleep quickly, though." Felix's thumb brushes up your arm. "Jet lag paired with Farleigh sneaking her one too many glasses of wine." Another empty tilt of Oliver's chin. "Y'can come here, if you want."

The offer comes out so casually, Oliver starts to wonder if he missed something. "What?"

Felix sighs, a hint of some lighthearted humor in the sound. "It doesn't need to be a thing, it's just sleep."

It can't possibly be that casual to him, can it? Especially with the level of care in the way Felix is touching you. And even if it is just a matter of sleep, this is still your room. "What about--"

"She won't mind," Felix dismisses easily. "She likes you." It's one thing to be friendly with someone, another for them to crawl into your bed after you've fallen asleep. "She'll get it."

Oliver's still not sure, his confusion affecting his ability to figure out which reaction will be what Felix wants most. He deliberates for a moment before stepping forward, approaching the other side of the bed.

Now that the overwhelmingness of the domesticity is starting to wear off, you do seem different in your sleep. More vulnerable. It isn't an unappealing way to see you.

He pulls the sheets back carefully, you stir regardless. You shift away from Felix's touch, moving onto your side. Of course you'd wake up just in time to take this from him, too.

You wipe at your eyes tiredly before squinting them open. It takes a moment for you to place yourself, but once you do, the slight confusion behind your eyes is nearly drowned out by an oddly warm confusion. "Oliver."

You bend an arm in an attempt to prop your head up. It takes you a second, but you eventually manage. Farleigh must have encouraged to have a little more than just a few extra glasses of wine at dinner.

"Y'okay?" Your tone is more kind than confused as you stare up at him with sleep still in your eyes.

The answer should be easy. Oliver should be working at accepting Felix's suggestion. The words are there, balancing on the tip of his tongue, but instead of getting them out, he's too focused on you.

It's a curious attention. Half asleep, hair tousled, makeup washed off, and the oversized shirt you're sleeping in sliding down your shoulder. All of these things should make you seem smaller, less eye drawing. Instead, being dressed down just adds a softness to your aesthetic appeal.

Maybe what makes you so appealing to Felix isn't as hard to grasp as Oliver originally thought. The thought twists in him strangely, jabbing at a part of him and encouraging another.

"Ollie couldn't sleep either." Felix gently squeezes your forearm. "I was asking him if he wanted to stay in here tonight, but he didn't want to overstep."

You blink, stiffening slightly for the first time since you woke up. The implications of Felix's statement take a second to fully sink in, but once it does, Oliver can see the hesitation coloring your features. "Oh."

Felix traces a pattern up your arm. You turn your head to look at Oliver again. "You've seen me before a 9:00 AM lecture after a night out and at every stage of finals week grief, I'm not sure there are any boundaries left."

You sit up, pushing yourself close to the center of the bed in a wordless invitation. Oliver swallows before letting himself sit down at the edge of the bed. He takes his time moving beneath the sheets. Your scent clings to the fabric.

The bed's not small, but with the three of you, it is a bit of a squeeze. It's reminiscent of being a little kid crawling into bed with a parent after a bad dream.

"You are pretty harsh during exams." Felix's voice is light, bordering on teasing.

Your mouth falls open in a mock gasp. You twist your arm, trying to push Felix off. He grins, easily resisting your halfhearted attempts to get him off of you. "I am not that bad." You're still pretending to want Felix to let go when you look back at Oliver. "Am I?"

To be honest, during finals you're constantly preoccupied. Even when you're meant to be spending time with friends, it's clear that your mind's stuck on assignments and exams. You're also prone to irritability. The only actual argument Oliver's ever had with you was mainly caused by the stress of an essay you were trying to finish. You apologized almost immediately after, but it's still the most angry he's ever seen you be.

The truth doesn't feel relevant. "You're perfectly lovely all times a'year."

You grin, Felix lets out a sound that's equal parts laugh as it is groan. "Don't tell her that. It'll go to her head."

You gently push at his shoulder, Felix exaggerates a pout.

Like all the praise you receive on a daily basis hasn't already gotten to you. You may not have a family name that carries weight, but you do have the way that people see you, a regular dorm hall darling with the grades and social circle to match.

You don't bask in the praise or let it change your outward appearance, but it has to inflate your ego. You've never implied that you come from a family that struggles financially, but you're not like Felix either. Holding your own with his kind must give you an inflated sense of self.

But this is another truth that serves no purpose. Not with Felix's teasing yet content smile and the attentive way you're watching him.

Oliver extends an arm, placing a hand on your knee. You sit up a little more, uncertainty briefly making it easier for you to be awake. It's not that you're never touchy with Oliver, it's that he's rarely the one to start it. "Oh, she's too much of a sweetheart."

It's honest enough. You are too nice to let anything openly go to your head. The words get you to finally relax at the contact. You must have decided that Oliver's just in a friendly mood. "Thank you." You then turn your head to look at Oliver, "See? Some people think I'm nice."

Felix rolls his eyes, letting his hand fall off your arm for the first time since Oliver's arrival. It's a small shift, but some subconscious part of you seems to notice, eyes instinctually searching for his hand.

"Since when are you on her side?" The comment, delivered with a tone that isn't quite teasing enough to cover the tinge of annoyance that still manages to bleed into the words, only confirms Oliver's theory.

Felix is used to being at the center. Everyone's eyes are always on him, everyone's affections are constantly available. He isn't one to be jealous in a committed way, Oliver's heard about enough of Felix's open flings to know he isn't like that. But he's territorial about those he feels attached to. If Felix Catton deems you worthy of his care, you make sure to make it clear to anyone else that that's all that matters.

The brief flash of defensiveness makes Oliver feel like he's standing a little straighter, a little stronger. "There are no sides."

"Yeah." You shift, leg moving off of Felix's as you try to sit up a little more. Felix's brow furrows.

It hits Oliver, then, that even though you want Felix's approval, you might not need it the way everyone else does. That must be part of the reason Felix is so drawn to you. Or maybe you're just that sure in yourself, in your place in his life that you're willing to push from time to time if the setting feels light enough.

But you're not happy with tension between the two of you, not even the kind that's barely implied. Oliver doesn't think he's ever seen the two of you argue, or look anything outside of completely content in each other's presence.

"We're just joking," you mumble, angling your neck awkwardly to look at Felix.

"Yeah, so am I."

Your gaze shifts over to Oliver, something knowing behind your eyes that he can't quite return. "Mhm."

Felix lets out an exaggerated breath before relaxing his spine and laying down. "Fuck off," he mumbles, the passive aggressiveness forced into the syllables not enough to hide his genuine fondness.

You look over at Oliver, "Can you believe him?"

A combination of being emboldened by the safety of your approval and the urge to feel as indispensable as you are makes Oliver want to joke back. "He seems moody, must be tired."

You laugh again, this time your body leaning towards Oliver until your head lands on his shoulder.

"Fuck off," Felix says again, "Both of you." His annoyance is still undercut by something warm.

Your head is still on Oliver's shoulder, the weight of it impossible to ignore but not exactly uncomfortable. You've stilled significantly, a fact that makes Oliver wonder if you've fallen asleep like that.

Then, you break the silence, "We're kidding."

"I've heard that before," Felix counters flatly. He stretches an arm, reaching for your fingers. "Liked you better asleep."

Felix squeezes your hand, keeping you awake enough to respond. "I'm sure the quiet was nice."

He sits up slightly, "You snore a little."

You're so offended, you lift your head off of Oliver's shoulder. "I. Do. Not."

Oliver waits a beat before adding, "Well."

You turn to look at Oliver, your offense clear. "How would you know?"

"Remember after that one party? You were so out of it, you needed help getting into your room and passed out before I could go." The memory is relatively recent, an end of semester party that you used to celebrate the end of your finals induced hibernation.

You pout. "You two are mean."

Felix runs his thumb across your knuckles. "Extremely." You part your lips like you have something else to say, but you're cut off by a yawn. "We should go to bed."

You tilt your chin up slightly, a potential protest that fizzles out almost immediately. "Yeah." You're tired, there's not even the good humored kind of fight left. "It's late."

You sink into the mattress, eyes shutting immediately. Oliver watches for a second, still unsure in a way he isn't used to. There's something about this kind of softness that isn't easy to place himself in.

Felix leans over, setting his book down on the nightstand. "Are you both settled?"

You nod, eyes still closed. Oliver's a little slower to react, "Yeah."

Felix switches off the bedside lamp. Darkness enshrouds the room. The bed groans slightly as Felix adjusts himself. Oliver follows, moving so that he can lay down fully.

He's closer to you than he's ever been. Your warmth radiates beneath the sheets in a way that's strangely soothing. Oliver isn't sure how he felt so awake just minutes ago. His eyelids are growing heavy. The last thing Oliver registers before falling asleep is Felix's hand on his shoulder, a too brief yet somehow still lingering squeeze that serves as a silent good night.

#saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton x reader x oliver quick

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wd-ghosty · 2 months

Text

Midnight Serenade

Donnie x reader fic

I really tacky like this concept so I wanted to write about it, so basically you and donnie go on a date. I still new to writing so pls be nice, hope you enjoy <3.

It’s late winter early spring as you’re getting ready for your date, last nights flurry left some snow on your ground so it’s best to bundle up a bit. As you were putting on your shoes, you hear a knocking on the window, “Come in!” your window slides open and a turtle boy whereinga shit ton of purpel crawls in after he threw in a picnic basket.

“I was scared i was gonna be late, but i see you’re not even done yet”

“Scoff! I’m putting on my shoes so i basically am done, what happened to mr. attention to detail?”

“Heyyy i thought you hated ot when i said scoff!?”

“I have no recollection of that conversation,” he rolled his eye at your comment as he sits down on your bed. You get up to go get the drinks from your kitchen. “Common lets go.”

The two of you take a train to Clark st, then walk over to the brooklyn bridge. The two of you trot along the bridge and you’re excited to see where donnie is taking you.

“We’re here,”

“...Donnie we’re still on the bridge.”

“Exactly. You’re good at balancing on polls right?”

You face went white when he said that. You look at the belts of the bridge then you look back at donnie nodding. Your soul sinks in your stomach and the look on your face has donnie rolling around on the groud, kicking and screaming, “I’m just kidding hun.” his hover bike thing pulls up and your melanin instantly comes back.

“If you pull that shit with me again I will hop on your ass like super mario and beat you with your already shitty shell!” donnie went agaps, jaw on the groud, hand on his chest.

“Damn, I didn’t know it would scare you that much?” he laughs off his nevers as the two of you get on his bike. The two of you hop of when you get to the top of one of the tower things inbetween the belts, the city lights illuminating everything around you so you can see perfectly. As you are admiring everything around you donnie starts to set up the picnic blanket, “Wow i didn’t know you’d like it here this much.”

“What do you mean? This is so cool, you act as if you come here regularly.” he looks up at you with a smile, “... you come here regularly don’t you?”

“It’s our new favorite hangout spot, and much more discrete then rooftops.”

"Theres a really busy street right below us. what's the difference?" You sit down across from donnie on the picnic blanket and you help him take everything out of the basket,

"The difference, most people aren't looking up when they're driving. And why would they take their eyes off the busy rode?"

"Mabey they have a death wish?"

"Mabey."

You pull of the heart shaped plates and glasses out of the bag and start to gush over them, “Don’t you just LOVE these cups i got you!?”

“Yeah, i love that, including the heart shaped wicker basket, and pillows, and chocolates… I know that sounds like sarcasm, but i do love it.” as the two of you continue to unpack you see your favorite cookies, and cupcakes.

“Donnie! You didn’t!”

“Why do you sound so surprised like i dont do this all the time?”

“Its because you remembered!”

“It’s hard to forget our favorite things when we always talk about them. Every time we’re hanging out one of us just starts ranting as the other is working.”

“I love that for us, and because of that I know just how much you ACTUALLY like Atomic Lass… that and i check you search history.”

“And I yours… I shoudln’t have done that.”

“I warned you. Anyone who got quezy durring the saltburn bath tub scene, couldn’t handle whats on my laptop.” you laugh a little remebering the first time the two of you watched that, he left the room multiple times.

When the two of you were done setting up you just started talking, about whatever came to your mind. LMK, jupiter jim, the boondocks, anything you guys liked, “oh do you remember when we watched violet evergarden together for the first time?”

“Ofcourse you started crying when the episode about the littel girl came on.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the mom the wrote a bunch of letters for you daughter before she died.”

“That one was soo sad! But it was really sweet, that is what i call motherly love”

“You cry for the dumbest things hun,” he starts laughing at you but you laugh with him, “You wont cry for sad movies whatsoever but the second you relate to a character you start bawling. As far as i'm aware you mother is still alive.”

“It’s not about the dead mother! Its aboutt he dedication to her child!'' Donnie just listened to you rambling on about it, your voice is basically white noise. The amount of times he’s fallen asleep just by being around you is countless, the ease you put him at is unmatched. “and that just pulled all my heart strings!”

As the night went on the two of you purely enjoyed eachothers company, and the sweets donnie brought. As the two of you talked a sertain song came on,

But when the morning comes

We'll burn it down and then

We'll build the world again...

Our love is God.

“I forgot this song was on this playlist,” Donnie trys to skip it but you stop him,

“Remebere when we were fourteen how we did a two person play of the heaters?”

“Yeah what abo- ohhh” donnie gets up on his feet, “you remember the lyrics right?” he holds out his hand for you.

“Ofcourse,” You take his hand as the two of you get into character.

Hi Kurt, it's Veronica

How did you guys know it was always a fantasy of mine to have two guys at once?

Wowuhh... lucky guess?

Well, if you want it to come true, meet me at the cemetery, at dawn

Free pussy!

And we don't even have to buy it a pizza!

Punch it in! Whaat?! Hahaha!

The two of you were both theater kids, singing together mixed with your average acting filled the two of you with joy way back when you were younger. The two of you join hands again as you shift to veronica and JD.

We can start and finish wars

We're what killed the dinosaurs

We're the asteroid that's overdue

The dinosaurs choked on the dust

They died because God said they must

The new world needed room

For me and you

Well your average acting, everytime the two of you sang this song donnie was too realistic. The way he would make your heart throb was supernatural. Despite being cold blooded your were never cold with you touched him.

I worship you.

I'd trade my life for yours

They all will disappear

We'll plant our garden here

He cups your cheek in the palm of his hand, as he kisses you. His hand was warm, everytime he held you, you felt safe. He pulled away from you and continued the song, and you joined him quickly after.

Our love is God

“You missed acouple lines hun.” he pecks your cheek,

“Only because you kissed me,”

“Stop acting like you did’t like it”

“Ugh.” he wraps his hands around you hips and stuffs his face in the crook of your neck.

...I worship you

I'd trade my life for yours

We'll make them disappear

We'll plant our garden here

Our love is God

“I love that song don.”

“I know you do hun.”

I hope you guys liked it! There some references that some people might not get, like the super mario reference, but still. Kiss, kiss, hope you have a good night, day, afternoon or whatever. <3

71 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

Text

Masterlist 3!

Here’s the third masterlist for all of my works! If you want to check out more of my work, here’s the links for masterlist one and masterlist two Imagines marked * are smutty imagines! Imagines marked ` are requests! Imagines marked ⭐ are personal favorites!

IMAGINES

STRANGER THINGS small ~ jim hopper` dance with me ~ eddie munson ⭐ starry night ~ steve harrington* (part five) ⭐ at the hip ~ steve harrington` ⭐ triple date ~ steve harrington (part six) ⭐ the freak ~ steve harrington (part seven) ⭐ oblivious ~ eddie munson ⭐

SUPERNATURAL strange human feelings ~ castiel` cleaning ~ dean winchester`

HANNIBAL into fiction` sob story ~ hannibal lecter

THE BOYS obsession ~ billy butcher ⭐ herogasm ~ soldier boy* ⭐ alone on christmas ~ billy butcher

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY life father ~ diego hargreeves` rescue mission ~ klaus hargreeves’ ⭐

THE LAST OF US (HBO) friendly neighbors ~ joel miller ⭐

BARRY attraction ~ barry berkman`

AMERICAN HORROR STORY late night sins ~ xavier plympton (1984)*`

VICTORIOUS lost dog ~ tori vega`

HEMLOCK GROVE i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey ⭐

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES roses are red ~ damon salvatore` ⭐

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH captive ~ blackbeard/ed teach ⭐

FUTURE MAN winner ~ josh futturman* ⭐

THE GENTLEMEN the assistant ~ raymond smith ⭐

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN spirit of nature ~ jack sparrow`

THE MAZE RUNNER i’ll keep you safe ~ newt`

MARVEL how things are now ~ marc spector and steven grant` ⭐ kneel ~ loki* the most wonderful time ~ bucky barnes

1917 early morning ~ will schofield*`

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez ⭐

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY’S i need someone older ~ william afton ⭐

SALTBURN new toy ~ felix catton ⭐

THE SANTA CLAUSE santa’s sister-in-law ~ bernard the elf

8 MILE one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr ⭐

PETE DAVIDSON your gift` favoritism`

HARRY STYLES the perfect tree a star in the making`

MACHINE GUN KELLY baby mama` ⭐ my queen*` getting your attention*` all the mistakes` not what it looks like`

EMINEM may the best artist win*` too close for comfort` ⭐ when it’s wrong but it feels right` in the dressing room*` he’s acting different` we have to stop meeting like this` every inch*` let’s surprise the world`

GOODGUYFITZ wake up call*`

CORPSE HUSBAND letting go` they forgot` ⭐

ASHTON IRWIN home life`

CONAN GRAY pushing`

MATTHEW LILLARD accidental drunk confessions`

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE feeling good*`

ALEX TURNER more than a song*` ⭐

BO BURNHAM can’t handle this right now ⭐ look at me*`

KRISTEN STEWART special customer`

TARON EGERTON he already has my approval ⭐

ROBERT PATTINSON my favorite superhero

GERARD WAY good girl*`

GWILYM LEE history repeats itself`

RYAN GOSLING play date`

JOSEPH QUINN bad idea, right? ⭐

RANBOO fluffy haired gamer boy`

JACOB ELORDI height advantage`

SHIPS

family reunion ~ hermione granger x draco malfoy`

HEADCANONS

showing pedro pascal fan edits ⭐

NSFW ALPHABET

rook (jp capellette)*` eddie munson* ⭐ billy butcher* ⭐

#imagines #imagine #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #masterlist #number three

762 notes · View notes

willgrahamscock · 4 months

Note

fellow saltburn and hannibal enjoyer here-

saw the post where u said the only scene you felt uncomfortable at was the karaoke scene and that is so reall but also what about the scene with Oliver's parents? that shit had me SWEATING I hated it

YEAH, I honestly paused it because the second hand embarrassment was just too much.

I almost couldn't handle this confrontation also, I really wanted them to get together.

#alex answers #saltburn #just SMOOCH guys

58 notes · View notes

twisted-turtels · 3 months

Text

Crossed Paths (Pt.7)

Author's note: My fingers hurt. Also if you say anything bad about my picture you're anti-black. I didn't make the rules. Also please ignore the amount of times i misspelled venetia. I though i had messed so i fixed it but to come to find out i was spelling it right the whole time lol.

5310 words

Crossed Paths

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Jordan slowly wakes up as she feels a light tap on her shoulder.

“Jordannn. Wake up,” she hears a soft voice whisper. God?

A Jordan lies, still hoping the person will leave; she feels an even more aggressive tap on her shoulder.

“Jordan, get up. I brought you breakfast since you slept in late,” Farleigh laughs. With an annoyed groan, Jordan flips over to see Farleigh standing by her bed with a teasing grin.

“Your food is on the nightstand. Also, change into a bathing suit when you’re done and meet us outside,” Farleigh states.

Jordan reaches over to grab her breakfast, noticing Farleigh still standing by her bed.

“Why are you still here,” Jordan narrows her eyes playfully at Farleigh, taking a bite of her eggs.

Farleigh joins Jordan on her bed, “No reason,” he shrugs. Jordan nods her, “Mmm.”

She reaches up to touch Farleigh’s hair, “Braids look good. Did the durag stay on all night?”

“Nah, it was off by the time I woke up,” Farleigh laughs, “My head doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would, though.”

Jordan nods her head in understanding, “Yeah, I didn’t braid them as tight as I could, but I didn’t know how you would handle them though,” she takes a bite of her food, “If we’re going to be in a pool though you should put it back on.”

Farleigh looks at her with faux disgust, “Can you chew your food before you continue talking?”

Jordan swallows her food before laughing, “My bad. Anyways, I’m done,” Jordan puts her food down as she begins to stand up, “I’ll see you at the pool?”

Farleigh stands to leave, “Yeah. Wear something cute,” he leaves before Jordan can throw her pillow at him. Jordan chuckles, shaking her head at Farleigh’s antics. I’ll wear something cute, alright.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan walks the halls, earbuds in her ear, pool bag in tow. As she’s walking, she also sees Oliver standing in the hallway. Jordan approaches Oliver, her tone neutral as she addresses him, “Oliver,” she yells out. Oliver turns around, noticing Jordan’s baby blue two-piece, “Hey, Jor-”

“Where’s the pool,” she asks, her expression showing little warmth towards him.

“Well, Felix said we were meeting at the field,” Oliver points through one of the many large windows in the house, “over there.” Oliver continues to stare at Jordan with interest. Jordan nods in acknowledgement, before noticing him staring at her, “Do you like what you see, Ollie?” She quips, raising an eyebrow challengingly. Oliver silently nods as Jordan walks closer to him. She lightly touches one of the buttons on his shirt, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She places her hand on his chest, “Why is your heart beating so fast,” she asks with an innocent tilt of her head.

Before Oliver can respond, she pulls away, “Lead the way,” she throws her hand out, indicating for him to proceed.

Jordan follows behind Oliver as they make their way towards the field. Jordan listens to her music as she walks behind Oliver, not paying much attention to her surroundings; she looks up and notices Oliver speaking towards her, so she takes out an earbud, “What did you say,” she asks in confusion.

“I was just asking how you like Saltburn,” Oliver states. Jordan thinks before answering, “I’m having fun,” she answers, “What about you,” she asks. Oliver is interrupted again as Jordan hears a familiar voice yell as they walk into a field, “Guys! Over here!” Felix yells.

Jordan squints her eyes to see Felix, Venitia, and Farleigh lying in the tall grass.

Her eyes widen in surprise, “Are y’all naked!” The group laughs, “We’re sunbathing,” They yell together. Jordan and Oliver walk closer to the group before Farleigh stops them, “No swimsuits allowed in the field,” he states.

Jordan shrugs her shoulders and walks in front of Oliver, “Okay,” she yells before stripping off her clothes and skipping towards Farleigh.

Damn, she looks good, they all think. Jordan lays next to Farleigh, book in hand, before taking a sip out of his bottle of wine, “Didn’t know you had an ass on you,” she jokingly states.

“Yeah, the same can be said about you,” he replies. They both watch, amused, as Oliver takes his trunks off. Farleigh looks over his sunglasses as Jordan laughs in surprise.

“Well, well, well,” Farleigh states.

“Leave him alone,” Felix scolds. Farleigh points at Oliver, “But look at him. Good for you, Ollie,” he continues.

He looks towards Jordan, “What a twist,” Farleigh states with a sly grin.

Oliver puts on his sunglasses and walks to the group with a confident smirk.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As days turned into weeks, Jordan quickly settled into life at Saltburn. Having no choice but to be around him, she has learned to tolerate Oliver’s presence.

The group lounges at the pond, Jordan and Farleigh share a lounge chair together, Farleigh stroking his fingers through her braids while reading ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows.’

“Do you think Harry, Hermione, and Ron all have threesomes,” Felix asks.

Jordan lightly laughs, “Oh, for sure.”

“Without a fucking doubt,” Farleigh agrees.

“You think they all fuck,” Felix wonders.

“They’re missing out if they don’t,” Farleigh quipped.

One such evening, they watched “The Ring” with the rest of the family.

“Oh my god,” Venitia screams with fright. Jordan laughs as she watches the TV, unable to take the movie seriously. She throws herself on Oliver’s shoulder as they laugh at the scene before them. Farleigh shifts his gaze to them, jealously evident in his eyes.

“Why is she wet,” Elspeth asks.

“Because she’s been down a well, Mum,” Felix yells in disbelief.

Jordan even got a chance to show off her tennis skills.

“No, I want Jordan on my team,” Farleigh complains, “You have Oliver,” he yells across the court.

Jordan looks up from her bottle of wine with wide eyes at the sound of her name.

“Why can’t I have her,” Venitia complains, sounding like a defeated child, “She was on your team last time.”

Jordan runs over and holds her hands to calm the group down, “Calm down. Calm down. There’s enough of me to go around,” She goes to Venitia’s side of the court, “But it is Venitia’s turn now,” Jordan shrugs.

“You have Oliver,” Jordan lightly pushes Oliver to Farleigh’s side of the court. Farleigh looks unamused as he throws his head back in protest.

“Oh, stop being a baby, Farleigh,” Oliver laughs while walking to his side of the court.

“Shut up,” Farleigh retorts, voice laced with annoyance.

“And remember, if you miss, you drink,” Jordan shouts as she takes a drag of her blunt.

“Keep score, Felix!”

And guess who won?

“Farleigh, love, you’re heavy. I can’t carry you,” Jordan says as she struggles to drag a drunk Farleigh to his room, “Help me out here,” she grunts.

Farleigh responds with a drunken giggle, offering little assistance as he slings his arm around Jordan’s.

“Love? You’re not British, Jordy,” Farleigh states matter-of-factly.

Jordan rolls her eyes, “Should’ve made Felix bring you.” They make it to Farleigh’s room, and Jordan throws him on the bed with a grunt. Farleigh lays still before Jordan taps him, “Nuh-uh. Get up. Change into your PJs first before you go to sleep,” she commands.

Farleigh complies with her command, albeit with some reluctance and a few drunken grumbles. He manages to change into his pajamas with Jordan’s assistance, stumbling slightly. Farleigh finally settles into bed, eyes dropping in exhaustion.

“Thanks, Jordy,” Farleigh mumbles.

“No problem, hun,” Jordan states before kissing Farleigh on the head and walking out the door. Jordan walks towards the kitchen to grab a snack before heading to her room, noticing Oliver also standing in the kitchen.

“Hey, Oliver,” Jordan says out of courtesy, “I’m surprised you’re not as drunk as Farleigh was,” she lightly chuckles to herself.

Oliver chuckles, “Yeah, I can handle my alcohol better than some,” he watches intently as Jordan walks over to the freezer to grab a pint of ice cream. As Jordan bends over to grab the ice cream, he admires her movements and how her braids fall over her shoulder. He clears his throat, trying to distract himself from his wandering thoughts.

Jordan goes to sit on one of the kitchen counters, “How are you doing…You know, ever since your dad died,” she asks bluntly while looking up at him. Oliver’s expression flickers momentarily, surprised by her sudden question, “Oh, I’m doing fine.”

Jordan nods, though her gaze remains probing, “Mmm. You sure? Losing a parent can’t be easy,” she presses, tone gently yet persistent. Oliver offers a casual shrug, his eyes carefully avoiding Jordan’s penetrating gaze. “Yeah, well, you know. Life goes on,” he says, attempting to brush off the topic.

But Jordan doesn’t seem satisfied with his evasive response, “Right,” she says, her tone tinged with skepticism. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, Ollie?”

“Why would I lie about my dad being dead, Jordan?” Oliver challenges. Jordan hops off the kitchen counter and saunters towards Oliver. She tilts her head slightly to meet his eyes, “I don’t know, Oliver,” she replies evenly, voice unwavering, “But you seem to have a knack for keeping secrets,” she shrugs before continuing, “How is it that a random scholarship boy like you somehow manages to weasel his way into staying at Saltburn,” she shakes her head.

Oliver’s jaw tightens, expression slightly darkening, “I’m not keeping any secrets. Jordan,” his eyes narrow slightly as he meets her gaze, “And maybe I got lucky. Or someone saw potential in me.”

Jordan scoffs, “Potential? Please. You’re just another one of Felix’s pity projects,” she moves back from Oliver, “Shame.”

Oliver’s expression tightens, further, frustration simmering beneath the surface, “That’s not true. Felix didn’t bring me here out of pity. I earned my place here,” he answers defensively.

Jordan’s skepticism remains unyielding as she meets Oliver’s gaze head-on, “Earned,” she challenges, “You give a random man your bike on a Monday, and now all of a sudden, you’re besties. You give people a sob story, and suddenly you’re part of an elite crowd. Please spare me,” she rolls her eyes.

With a final dismissive glance, Jordan turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Oliver standing in the kitchen. He watches her walk out with a mixture of annoyance and admiration.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The days following Jordan’s conversation with Oliver were filled with glances exchanged between them, each one laden with tension and unspoken suspicion. Despite the unease, Jordan and Farleigh found solace in the simple pleasure of lounging in the pool.

“My mom called me,” Jordan interrupts the comfortable silence.

Farleigh lifts his head in interest, “Hm? About what,” he asks.

“Just to talk. She was asking about my summer and whatnot. When I’m gonna start studying for the LSAT, blah blah,” Jordan laughs, “When’s the last time you talked to your mom,” she asks.

Farleigh scoffs, “Let me think...exam day, I think.”

Jordan looks at Farleigh in disbelief, “Damn, that was almost two months ago.”

Farleigh nods before focusing back on the book on his lap. Jordan notices his shift in attitude, “Touchy subject?” Jordan’s question hangs in the moment before Farleigh responds, his voice tinged with resignation, “Yeah, you could say that,” he looks towards Jordan, “She’s just annoying sometimes, but that’s my mom. Love her.”

Jordan nods her head in understanding before hopping off her floaty and going to grab her towel, “What are you doing later tonight,” she asks Farleigh.

“Nothing. Why,” Farleigh asks with skepticism.

“Well, we’ve been in the pool all day. I can wash your hair and put it in some braids for you. Only if you want,” Jordan asks.

Farleigh briefly considers Jordan’s offer before a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “Sure, that sounds nice, actually.”

Jordan grins, relieved to see Farleigh’s mood-lifting, “Great! I’ll meet you in your room in, like, two hours?”

Farleigh agrees, “Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Two hours later

“Stop moving,” Jordan commands as she moves Farleigh head back under the running water.

“But you’re getting shampoo in my eye,” he whines.

“You are a grown man. Stop whining. And look, we’re done anyways,” Jordan says, finally turning off the water. She grabs a towel before tossing it to Farleigh, allowing him to dry his hair.

“Come sit down when you’re finished,” Jordan says while gesturing to the floor before his bed. Farleigh nods and quickly dries his hair before sitting between Jordan’s legs.

As Jordan starts to braid, the two fall into a comfortable conversation.

“Honestly, you can take these braids out tomorrow morning, and your hair would be so curly. I think it would be cute. You always have your afro, but the curls would be a bit more uniform,” Jordan states while focusing on a braid.

“Is there something wrong with my hair now,” Farleigh asks, consciously touching his hair before Jordan smacks his hand away.

“I never said that, did I,” she quips.

Fareleigh jokingly argues you back, “I’m just trying to figure out what you’re insinuating. If you think my hair is bad, just say some-” Farleigh stops talking, eyes widening in shock. Jordan’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion, “What?”

Farleigh gets up to sit on the window ledge. “Look,” he says, pointing to the field.

Jordan follows, “What are you talking about-” Her eyes widen. On a bench, she sees Oliver kneeling under Venitia’s nightgown. Is he?

Jordan’s mouth dropped in shock before she took out her phone. “I’m so telling Felix,” she said with determination.

Farleigh nods in agreement, his gaze still fixed on the field, “You stupid little boy,” he mutters under his breath, his voice laced with contempt.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan and Farleigh sit beside each other outside while the family enjoys breakfast. They both exchange glances as they notice the looks Oliver and Venetia exchange with each other. Felix walks up to the table sulkily before sitting down.

“Morning. You sleep well,” Oliver asks.

“Not really, mate, no,” Felix replies with an attitude.

Sir James continues speaking, “We’re thirty for dinner tomorrow. Stopford Sackville has cried off.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Elspeth answers sarcastically. Venetia, Farleigh, and Felix audibly groan.

In confusion, Jordan looks at the table, “I thought we liked dinner time?”

“No, we dont,” Venitia mumbles with her hand in her head in annoyance.

“Wait, who is coming to dinner again,” Farleigh asks while taking a drag of his cigarette.

“The Henrys,” Venitia mutters while biting her croissant.

“Who are the Henrys,” Oliver asks, curiosity laced in his tone.

“Dad’s friends. They’re all called Henry,” Venetia answers.

“Not all of them, Just most…” Sir James trails off.

“It’ll be fun,” Elspeth exclaims while patting Jordan’s shoulder, smiling.

“It’ll be being molested by Henry,” Venetia turns to her father, “You know which one!”

“I’ll put you next to Oliver! He can molest you instead,” Elspeth says casually.

Jordan chokes on her tea as she watches the conversation unfold. She coughs and sputters, trying to regain her composure as Farleigh pats her back.

“Jordan. Are you okay, darling,” Elspeth asks, voice laced with concern.

Jordan nods, “Yes, ma’am. I’m fine. You can continue,” she dismisses.

“Oh, Oliver, I was going to say we should do something fun for your birthday. A proper party! No Henrys! Something actually fun,” Elspeth speaks excitedly as she turns to Sir James, “What do you think, darling?”

“If Oliver would like it, I think it’s a splendid idea,” Sir James agrees.

“I think Oliver looks like he’d rather throw himself out of a window,” Farleigh says, lip twitching into a slight smirk. Jordan laughs as she stares at Oliver in amusement. Oliver turns towards Elspeth, “What kind of party?”

Elspeth shrugs, “I don’t know, whatever you want. What do you think? About a hundred people?”

Oliver stares at her in shock, “A hundred?”

“Or two. You can invite whoever you want. All your friends,” Elspeth continues.

“What friends,” Jordan mutters while taking a bite of her pancake. Oliver quickly glances at her before desperately looking at Felix, lightly tapping the boy playfully but watching as he shifts his body away from him. Venetia gets up from the table with a huff as the group watches her stomp away.

“We could have a theme! How about Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Elspeth suggests.

Jordan nods her head in agreement, already planning out her outfit.

“Bring on the slutty fairies,” Farleigh says with disinterest.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Farleigh couldn’t help but stare at Jordan as she entered the busy dining room. She’s conversing with one of the Henrys’ wives, her charm and grace evident in every gesture. He takes a sip of his drink before walking over to her.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Farleigh says.

The two women stop their conversation before noticing Farleigh’s approach. Jordan offers him a warm smile as he joins them while Henry’s wife looks at him expectantly, “Hello, Farleigh. How are you, love?” the older woman exclaims.

“I’m doing good, ma’am,” Farleigh answers charmfully. Jordan smiles at Farleigh’s response, appreciating his polite demeanor. “I was just telling her how great my time here has been,” she says, turning back to the Henrys’ wife. Farleigh nods, feigning interest in the conversation. Jordan bids the woman farewell before following Farleigh to sit in their assigned seats at the long table.

“Look at you, Ms. Houston,” Farleigh teases.

Jordan nudges his shoulder, “Listen. I’m trying to network. Okay?”

Farleigh holds his hands up in protest, “Hey, I’m not judging,” he laughs. “You know we’re doing Karaoke later,” Farleigh asks while eating.

“Oh, I love Karaoke! I can’t wait,” Jordan exclaims excitedly. I love her smile.

Much later into the evening, everyone gathered in the great hall. Farleigh sits next to Oliver on the couch as he watches one of the Henrys drunkenly yell the lyrics to “Low.” He turns his head to see Jordan laughing with Felix and Venetia. He lightly smiles before turning his attention back to Oliver.

Farleigh leans closer to Oliver, “Fuck, chuck, or marry: Richard III, Henry VII, or Henry XIII. You know. I think I’d fuck Richard III. He’s so insecure, so you know he’d do the work, right?”

They chuckle. Oliver looks him in the eyes, “Or you could just fuck me instead,” he says casually, tension builds up in the air between them, “Why did you and Jordan tell Felix about me and Venitia?”

Farleigh smiles innocently, “Well, we didn’t think he’d react that badly,” Yes, we did.

“Yes, you did,” Oliver objected.

“Yes, I did,” Farleigh confirms. Oliver shifts closer to Farleigh, “You know, if you ever want someone to talk to, you can always tell me, Farleigh,” Oliver whispers. Why would I do that?

“What do you mean,” Farleigh asks.

“Well, I know you’re having a hard time at home. I know how that feels. When things are so precarious, it’s terrifying. And lonely. And it must be so fucking weird having to ask them for everything.” He nods his head towards the Cattons, “And I know it seems like Jordan is way out of your league,” Farleigh eyebrows twitch in slight anger, “And I know you fucking hate me-” Oliver rants before he’s interrupted.

“I…I don’t hate you,” Farleigh begins; Oliver continues,”- but if you ever want me to talk to them. If I can help in any way, just ask.”

Farleigh offers Oliver a faux smile before being interrupted by Henry’s terrible singing.

“Alright. I think I’m gonna go put him out of his misery.” Farleigh stands up to take the microphone out of Henry’s hand and select a song.

“Alrighhht. Well done, Henry, that was great. Round of applause for Henry,” Farleigh smiles mischievously as he picks a song, “Now it’s time to take things up a notch. We have someone here who is a very talented singer.” The speakers blare the intro to “Rent” by The Pet Shop Boys.

“He’s your best friend and mine,” he says sarcastically, “Oliver Quick!”

Jordan and the Cattons cheer loudly in the back of the room. Farleigh grabs Oliver’s hand to force him to the front of the room. Oliver reluctantly makes his way to the front of the room, feeling a knot of apprehension tightening in his stomach. His gaze flickers to Farleigh, who watches him with a knowing smirk.

“Don’t be shy, Ollie,” Farleigh teases.

“The words are on the screen, Ollie. Go crazy,” Jordan yells mischievously. The music starts, and Oliver begins to sing, his voice shaky and uncertain. Jordan watches from the sidelines, her expression unreadable as she observes Oliver’s performance. She notices him starting to slightly loosen up. Farleigh leans against the wall with Jordan, a smug grin playing on his lips, cigarette in hand, as he watches Oliver.

You bring me food. I need it. You give me love. I feed it.

Felix and Venetia look at Farleigh and Jordan, noticing the amusement on their faces.

I love you. You pay my rent.

Silence takes over the room. The audience now understands why the song was chosen.

Jordan and Farleigh cheer from the back of the room, “Whooo! You tell ’em, baby,” Jordan exclaims.

Felix exclaims furiously, “Guys!”

Oliver smiles through the humiliation, “This is your song as well, Farleigh. Come finish it,” he says slyly.

Farleigh leaps up, “Only if you insist,” he walks to Oliver. He grabs the mic confidently, “You took me to a restaurant off Broadway. To show me who-”

Oliver glares intensely at Farleigh, his eyes boring into Farleigh’s with an unsettling intensity. Fareligh, undeterred by Oliver’s intimidating gaze, continues to sing, his voice strong and unwavering, spurred by the crowd’s cheers.

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Jordan stumbles slightly as she holds on to Farleigh’s arm, Felix and Venetia trailing behind them.

“Did you see his face? He looked absolutely mortified,” she laughs.

Farleigh chuckles in agreement, his arm steadying Jordan as they continue walking down the hallway, “Yeah, it was priceless,” he replies, a smirk playing on his lips. Felix’s jaw tightens as he glares at the back of their heads, “Why did you do that, Farleigh,” he asks, frustration evident in his voice.

Farleigh turns his head, taking notice of Felix’s disapproving tone. Farleigh shrugs nonchalantly, “Do what,” he asks innocently.

“Lighten up, Felix,” Jordan chimes in, her tone teasing. “It was funny, no?”

“No,” Felix deadpans. Jordan rolls her eyes.

“This isn’t a joke, Jordan,” his tone stern. “You two need to stop antagonizing Oliver.”

Jordan’s frustration bubbles to the surface as she confronts Felix, “Oh my god. It’s always about Oliver. He’s a big boy, you know? He doesn’t need you to protect him,” Jordan groans.

Felix’s eyebrows knit together in disbelief at Jordan’s reaction, “What the fuck is your problem with him?” He asks, taken aback by her sudden outburst.

Jordan stops in her tracks, her eyes blazing in intensity as she meets Felix’s gaze, “First of all. Don’t ever curse at me again,” she warns, voice firm, “Secondly, he doesn’t belong here,” she argues.

Felix’s expression shifts from surprise to frustration as he tries to make sense of Jordan’s frustration, “What do you mean he doesn’t belong here,” he presses, his tone demanding an explanation.

“What I just said, Felix,” Jordan challenges.

Felix scoffs, “And you think you do?”

Farleigh and Venetia watch from the sidelines as the scene unfolds in front of them.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jordan asks.

“You’re just some random exchange student. Do you think you’re better than him,” Felix questions, voice heavy with anger.

Jordan laughs in disbelief, “Oh, that’s how you think of me? I never said I was better than anyone, but at least I don’t try to act like someone I’m not.”

Farleigh exchanges a glance with Venetia, concern evident in his eyes as he watches the argument between Jordan and Felix escalate.

Venetia steps forward, her voice calm yet authoritative, “Felix, that’s enough,” she interjects, her voice firm, “You’re drunk. You don’t mean that.”

Felix rolls his eyes before storming towards his room, Venetia following him. Farleigh looks at Jordan in disbelief, “Where the fuck did that come from?”

Jordan barges into her room. Farleigh follows closely behind, catching her arm and turning her around to face him, “You need to calm down,” he instructs, “You’re drunk.”

Jordan rolls her eyes before throwing his hand off her arms, “I’m not that drunk. I meant everything I said,” she huffs as she sits down on her bed.

Farleigh’s brows furrow in concern as he takes a step closer, “What’s going on,” he asks, voice laced with concern.

Jordan rubs her hands down her face in exhaustion before sighing, “I had talked to Oliver the other night. Asked him how he felt about his dad dying.”

Farleigh’s expression softens as he sits beside Jordan, “And?”

“He just seemed so nonchalant about it. Too nonchalant. Obviously, everyone’s grieving journey is different, but that was more than acceptance; that was indifference,” Jordan looks at Farleigh with concerned eyes, “It just doesn’t sit right with me, you know?”

Farleigh nods his head in understanding, “I get you. I also talked with him,” Jordan looks at him, intrigued, “What did he say?”

“He said, ‘If I ever need to talk, I can always go to him,’ Farleigh says in a high-pitched voice.

“Why would he say that?” Jordan asks.

“I think he overheard a conversation between me and Felix,” Farleigh rolls his eyes, “Because there’s no other way he would know that information.”

“See! He’s a snake,” Jordan pauses “…What did you and Felix talk about?”

Farleigh sighs before throwing his head back, “My mom is not the richest in the family,” he begins reluctantly, his expression reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“She’s been struggling for a while now with her money, and the only way I can attend school here is because of my Uncle,” he continues.

“What were you and Felix arguing about then,” Jordan asks.

“He claims my uncle doesn’t want to enable my mother anymore. Even though they have no problem throwing a party for a stranger, they’ve only known for two months,” Farleigh asks, frustration evident in his voice.

“That’s stupid, and Felix has no business speaking for his dad,” Jordan says bitterly.

Farleigh nods and shrugs his shoulder, “It is what it is, I guess,” he states before lying in Jordan’s bed. Jordan notices his eyes drooping, “You don’t want to get any clothes to change into?”

“I probably should, huh… You’re letting me sleep in here.” Farleigh teasingly asks.

Jordan narrows her eyes playfully, “Yeah, dont push it,” she retorts with a smirk, “And hurry up before I change my mind.”

Jordan chuckles as she watches Farleigh rush off to grab his clothes. Ten minutes later, Farleigh darts back into the room, durag in hand, “Can you put this on for me?”

“No, you got an afro right now,” Jordan digs in one of her drawers and takes out a black bonnet, “Put this on instead,” she tosses the bonnet towards Farleigh. Farleigh puts the bonnet on and looks at Jordan with a cunning grin.

She lets out a surprised yelp as Farleigh playfully throws her onto the bed. She lands with a thud, laughing as she looks up at him, “You’re on top of me,” she states matter-of-factly.

Farleigh’s playful grin widens as he looks down at Jordan, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “Is it a problem?” he teases, leaning a little closer. Jordan’s laughter continues, but there’s a hint of something else in her expression as she meets Farleigh’s gaze. “Depends on what you plan on doing up there,” she replies, gaze lingering. Farleigh licks his lips, a hint of anticipation in his eyes as he leans closer to Jordan, “What do you want, Jordan,” Farleigh asks, voice low.

As Jordan’s lips brush against Farleigh’s chin, a surge of electricity courses through him. His heart quickens as he inhales sharply at the sensation.

Jordan pulls back slightly, her eyes locked with Farleigh’s, “What do I want?” she echoes, her voice barely above a whisper.

Farleigh’s breath catches in his throat, his gaze fixed on Jordan’s lips, longing for more. “I want…” he begins, his voice husky with desire, but his words trail off as he leans closer, closing the distance between them, lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Farleigh’s hands find their way to Jordan’s waist, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss, his heart racing in anticipation. Jordan grabs Fareligh’s hair, her breath mingling with his. Their kiss is intense, fueled by longing and unspoken emotions. Farleigh’s breath hitches in response to Jordan’s touch, a soft moan escaping his lips.

As they pull away, their eyes meet. Jordan smiles slightly and says, “How long have you wanted to do that?”

Farleigh gazes into Jordan’s eyes, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and desire. He brushes a braid out of her face, “For longer than I would like to admit.”

Jordan’s smile widens, “Well, I’m glad you finally did,” she says softly, her voice laced with affection. Farleigh leans in to gently kiss Jordan’s forehead before settling next to her. Jordan wraps her arms around Farleigh, pulling him close, “It was good, wasn’t it,” she asks jokingly.

Farleigh rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around Jordan’s waist as he pulls her closer. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he teases, his tone playful as they settle into the comfort of each other.

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The room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls. The only sound is the sound of Jordan’s light snores. Farleigh lies asleep in bed, his breathing steady and calm. Jordan is next to him, sleeping soundly.

Suddenly, Farleigh fills a heavy weight on top of him, and before he can react, he feels a hand cover his mouth. Farleigh’s eyes widen in alarm as he realizes the danger he’s in. He tries to move, but Oliver’s weight holds him down, pinning him to the bed.

Farleigh whispers angrily, “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers furiously, his voice barely audible beneath Oliver’s hand.

Oliver’s gaze meets Farleigh’s with a chilling intensity. “What do you think I’m doing?” he retorts, his voice dripping with malice.

“I think you got the wrong fucking room,” Farleigh whispers fiercely.

Oliver leans closer, his breath hot on Farleigh’s face, “And I think you don’t belong here. Both of you.”

Oliver looks at Jordan before glancing at Farleigh, “Jordan’s been getting too nosy, Farleigh. Asking too many questions.”

Farleigh’s heart races as he feels the weight of Oliver’s threat bearing down on him.

Farleigh’s eyebrows furrow in anger, “Leave her alone.”

Oliver grins down at him menacingly, “Ah, Ah. Nothing will happen to her. If you behave.”

Farleigh’s fear is palpable as Oliver’s words hang heavy in the air. He knows he’s in danger, and Jordan’s presence beside him only adds to his unease.

“Are you going to behave, Farleigh?”

Farleigh heart pounds in his chest as he weighs his options, “Yes… I’ll behave,” he answers reluctantly.

Oliver’s grin widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Good. Sleep well.”

Oliver gets off Farleigh and slips away into the darkness, leaving Farleigh shaken. The room is silent once more, but the threat lingers. Farleigh looks over at Jordan, still sleeping soundly beside him, unaware of the danger that lurks in the shadows.

#farleigh imagine #farleigh x reader #oliver quick #saltburn imagine #farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #felix catton

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