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#oliver quick imagine
manicpixiefelix · 3 days
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love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.
Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.
Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.
Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.
A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀
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It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.
Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.
"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."
In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.
The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.
Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.
So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.
A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.
And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.
The first step is submission.
All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.
So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.
Praise.
It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.
Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.
"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.
Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.
And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.
Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.
The second step is acceptance.
Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.
Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.
All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.
Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.
Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.
"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.
"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.
Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.
He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.
When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.
"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.
"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.
So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.
It doesn't take long.
One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -
"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"
You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -
"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.
"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"
"I don't think of you as my dog!"
"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."
It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.
Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.
"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.
"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.
"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."
"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.
"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"
When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.
"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"
This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -
"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."
"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.
"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."
"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.
"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.
"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.
"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.
"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."
Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.
"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.
"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.
"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.
You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.
But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.
"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.
He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.
Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.
While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.
"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.
He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.
"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.
"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.
"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.
"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.
Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.
The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.
After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.
Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.
Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.
So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.
But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.
He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.
"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.
"Thanks, it's Ollie's."
"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.
Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.
Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.
In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.
"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.
"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.
The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -
"Good dog."
But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.
On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.
Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.
But he does, of course.
There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.
Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.
Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.
"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.
"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.
"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."
"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."
Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.
"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.
"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.
"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.
Not that Oliver actually minds.
Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.
When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.
Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.
"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."
Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.
"Ollie, what are you -"
"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.
"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.
Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.
"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.
"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.
"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."
"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.
"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.
"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."
"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.
"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.
"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.
"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.
"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.
Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.
"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.
Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -
"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.
"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.
"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.
Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.
"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.
"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."
Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.
"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.
"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.
A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.
And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.
"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.
Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -
"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.
"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.
"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.
Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.
So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.
"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.
You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.
Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.
"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.
"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -
"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.
"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"
"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.
"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.
"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.
"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.
"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.
"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.
"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.
"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.
"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.
"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.
It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.
"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.
But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."
Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.
"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."
Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.
"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"
"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -
"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."
Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.
Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.
Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.
A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.
Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.
Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.
Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.
"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.
"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.
Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.
Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.
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feralthoughtdump · 4 months
Text
False God
Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, threesome, alcohol and ambiguous substance consumption, lip biting, a little bit of blood, oral (m&f receiving), facefucking, spitroast, a lot of bodily fluids, squirting, a teeny bit of bi!Felix, a little bit of butt stuff, not fully canon compliant (let’s imagine that Felix didn’t find out about Oliver lying)
Word Count: 2k
Felix wasn’t the type who liked to share his toys. Whether it be his girlfriend, or his shiny new friend who comes to visit every summer, Felix felt a certain possession over them that he didn’t like to admit. But Oliver came to Saltburn with that woeful, wide-eyed gaze that Felix couldn’t fully resist. He also couldn’t deny how he looked at his girlfriend and how she looked at him. All of the shared glances across the dinner table, how she’d swallow when he had something witty to say to her, how his gaze would linger on her just a little bit longer than hers. 
Felix trusted her, he knew that she’d never go behind his back. And it’s the trust he holds in her that fuels his desire to let this happen. He adores her. Especially now with her, as Farleigh calls it, slutty fairy costume, and he’d do anything to make her happy, even if it meant letting Oliver touch her in ways that were solely reserved for him.
So, the three of them find themselves in this predicament, with her draped against him, and Oliver leaning against the doorway.
“Baby, know Oliver, right?” She nods, pressing herself closer to his chest. Felix wraps a comforting arm around her midriff, rubbing circles into her exposed skin with his thumb. “It’s his birthday today, and I thought this would be a nice present.” 
His lips pressed against her neck, her pulse thrumming against them, while his hands wandered, pushing the little skirt that she wore past her hips, exposing the intricate set that he bought for this occasion. 
Oliver grins, stepping closer to the pair. He looks at her, the antlers on his head casting a shadow over her glittery doe eyes. 
“She’s a very nice present.” His fingers push at the strap of her fairy wings, letting them fall to the ground with a soft clatter. “How’d you know I was into her?” 
“Saw you looking.” He chuckles and expertly unclaspes the back of her lacy bra. “But I can’t blame you, she’s pretty.” 
His large hand palms at her now exposed tits, rolling a nipple between his fingers. 
She whines and lets her head fall back against his chest, still covered in the ribbed fabric of his tank top. 
“Don’t tease, Felix.” She sighs. 
Oliver approaches them, stripping himself of his embroidered suit in the process. The pair watch with bated breath as he sinks to his knees in front of her. He noses at the inside of her thigh, taking in how soft and plush she felt.
He savors her, kissing and nipping at her thighs, letting his fingers drift from her ankles up to her knees. As he pushes her legs apart, Felix thumbs at her pussy through her panties, creating a wet patch on the expensive lace.
“Can I give her a taste?” Oliver asks, lips parted and eyes gleaming, staring up at Felix. 
“Of course you can.” Felix carefully positions her on the bed, her back flat on the mattress and Oliver places himself in front of her, right in between her thighs. 
Her shaky fingers push the lace waistband past her hips, but Oliver stops her, letting his teeth catch on the fabric to do it himself. He hums at the sight of her pussy, all wet and wanting. 
Felix places himself over her, jerking at his cock as Oliver licks a strip along the length of her folds. 
She yelps, pulling back, oversensitive from Felix’s previous ministrations, but he tightens his hold on her, keeping her in place.
“C’mon, be a good girl. Let him make you feel good.” She turns her head, bashful at how his words affect her, but he takes her chin and forces her eyes to meet his. “You’ll be good for Ollie, for me. Won’t you?”
She licks her lips, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall. 
“Yeah, I’ll be good,” she whispers. 
He smiles, and affectionately pats her cheek, and her thighs widen as she shifts against the mattress, trying to relax. 
With a nod of approval from Felix, Oliver grabs her thighs and pulls her onto his face. His tongue laps at her, circling her clit and teasing at her entrance. 
As she parts her lips, moaning at the heat that grows in the pit of her stomach, Felix places his thumb against her tongue, keeping her jaw open. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his cock into her wanting mouth. She sputters around him as the length of his shaft fills her mouth. 
“Fuck.” He groans. “Taking me so well, baby.” 
Felix fucks himself into her mouth, letting his tip hit the back of her throat. She hollows her cheeks before sucking, letting her lips wrap tight around his shaft, saliva dripping past her lips with every drag of his cock. 
Oliver wraps lips around her clit and slips two fingers into her dripping entrance. His fingers curl and she cries out. 
“Do that again,” Felix demands. “She likes it.”
He angles his fingers, letting the pads of his fingers press against her G-spot. At the sight of her legs shaking, he curls his fingers, practically forcing her hips to jerk against his face. 
She feels her body tense, falling closer and closer to the edge, as Oliver teases her, over and over again. Her arousal, in combination with his saliva, is spread across his lips. 
It’s messy, but none of them care. Both she and Felix love the sight of his flushed cheeks, eyes half-lidded in pleasure from the way her cunt tastes. 
“Don’t let her cum yet” he breathily orders “Have her suck you off first.” 
Felix manhandles her onto her knees and crawls onto the mattress, he taps his cock against cunt, dripping with a mixture of both her arousal and Oliver’s saliva. She looks up at Oliver, keeping her mouth open and drooling, and sticks out her tongue, an open invitation for him to start fucking her face. 
“So well behaved,” Oliver whispers, tapping his hard, flushed cock on her tongue, pre-cum dripping down into her throat. “You’re Felix’s good girl, aren’t you?”
Before she can respond, Oliver shoves his cock past her lips and Felix pushes himself inside her, forcing all of him into her cunt. She yelps around Oliver’s cock, the vibrations from the back of her throat making him shudder. 
The sound of skin slapping against one another fills the room as Felix fucks into her, letting his hips slam against hers. 
The reflection in the mirror across from them is obscene. Her chin is covered in her own drool, smeared across her cheeks and chin, dripping onto the expensive sheets. Felix has his head thrown back in pleasure, hands on her hips with a bruising hold, sweat gleaming on his skin, soaking through the front of his thin tank top. 
Oliver takes Felix’s face and plasters his lips against his. He’s taken by surprise, but he grabs the back of Oliver’s neck and pulls him in closer, forcing Oliver’s hips to push his cock deeper into her mouth. She grabs at the back of Oliver’s thigh, digging her nails into his skin. He hisses at the sting and bites down on Felix’s lower lip, a metallic taste blooming on his tongue. 
They pull away from each other, and blood trickles down Felix’s chin. 
Oliver stares at Felix, about to apologize, but Felix grins. “I could taste her on you, you know? Doesn’t she taste good?” 
All he can do is nod in agreement, cock twitching in her mouth. 
Oliver nods and leans forward, licking up the blood pooling on Felix’s lips. The pair lock their lips together. Wet sounds of their kisses and Felix’s cock being sucked into her pussy reverberate throughout the room, accompanied by her gagging and choking. 
She whines, drawing both of their attention back to her.
“Aww, my baby needs some attention?” At the sound of her whimpering in confirmation, Felix chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ll give you some attention then.” 
Felix reaches forward, pressing his thumb into Oliver’s open mouth, biting his lip at the sight of him swirling his tongue around the digit. With a loud pop, Felix removed his thumb from Oliver’s mouth. 
Wet with Oliver’s saliva, Felix’s thumb circles her other hole, slowly teasing it open. She whines, feeling a foreign stretch as his thumb pushes past the muscle. 
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He groans. “Don’t know why I haven’t fucked your tight little ass yet. Maybe I should tomorrow, I know your pussy’s going to be sore.” 
Her holes clench around Felix, the feeling of fullness, overtaking her body. She shudders, legs about to give out underneath her, as he forcefully drives his cock into her and teases at her hole, letting his thumb push against the rim, stretching it open. 
“Oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?” Oliver grins, messily grabbing at the length of her hair, forcing her to look at him. “You like it dirty? Like getting all of your holes filled?” 
She blinks away the dark streaks of mascara that run down her face, trying her best to nod. He lets his cock slip free of her lips and gives her cheek a pinch.
“Come on, use your words.” 
“Yes,” She gasps, back arching, pushing herself into Felix. “I like it.” 
He presses her front into the mattress, forcing her back to arch deeper into Felix. His fingers wrap around his hard, leaking cock, letting her spit lubricate his hand as he tugs, slowly bringing himself closer and closer to his own release. 
She tightens around Felix, whining as she feels an oncoming orgasm about to wash over her. 
Her glassy eyes look up at Oliver’s and he coos, thumbing at her cheek. 
“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” 
“Yes, Ollie, I- ah!” 
Felix lets his thumb hook inside of her clenching muscle, pulling her into him. 
His cock buries deep inside of her, forcing itself against her cervix. She screams, and Oliver is thankful for the loud music playing throughout the house. Her arousal gushes, spraying against both her, and Felix’s thighs. 
“Fuck, baby, making a mess over here.” Felix groans. His head falls back, panting, his grip on her tightening. 
His hips still, with tense thighs and stifled moans, he cums, coating her insides. Carefully, he slips himself out, using his fingers to spread her pussy open, watching with pride as his cum and her arousal drip out of her clenching, gaping cunt. 
Oliver pushes his cock back into her mouth, releasing down her throat. Her eyes tear up at the sudden intrusion. She’s overwhelmed and over-sensitive, but she swallows around him, obedient as always. 
The trio collapses on the mattress, chests rising and falling in tandem. Felix wraps a strong arm around her and pulls her in close, letting her temple rest on his chest. Oliver gently grazes her shoulders with his fingers, calming her down and letting her shaky and twitchy body slowly fall still. 
The lights of the party filter through the large windows, illuminating their sweat-slicked bodies. They shimmer, her body glitter having rubbed onto each other.
Distanced from the commotion happening outside of his room, it was just the three of them, sprawled across Felix’s bed. It was the three of them. Felix, their shining Adonis, and her and Oliver. Felix’s favorite toys.
2K notes · View notes
sluttyenthusiast · 4 months
Text
Not So Bad
Felix Catton x Fem!Reader, Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, Oliver in general, smoking? idk, not proofread 😓
(It’s been *checks watch* almost 8 months but i’m back!! I missed writing but I find it so physically and mentally exhausting and demanding but I did it!! I finally wrote something!)
“I invited a friend over,” Felix spoke out, smiling down at you as you steady yourself.
You, on the other hand, find yourself rolling your eyes as you grip his arm, holding yourself up as you both walk back inside from your nightly endeavors.
“Felix, babe, you always do this and it never ends well.”
The cigarette that once rested on his lips is now being held between his fingers, shrugging as he offers it to you.
“I know, but I have a feeling about this one.” You laugh out at his words, taking the cigarette from him as he kisses your forehead.
“I’m not trusting you until it it’s been proven to me,” A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest as he takes the cigarette back from you,
“Whatever you say pretty,”
As you both continue to wander around outside under the light of the moon you find yourself with your head on his chest, giggling with him while staring up the the constellations in the night skies that resemble the glimmer in his eyes.
You eventually find your way back inside, quietly making your way back to your rooms, bypassing Farleigh, who simply raised his eyebrows at your obnoxious sex hair and Felix’s discarded suit jacket and tie.
Felix led you back to your room where he stood hovered in your door with his long arms laid up against the doorframe as he watched you get undressed before changing into your sheer nightgown.
You knew what he was waiting for, almost laughing at his mannerisms as you make your way over to him, watching as he ducked his head down to kiss you.
When he finishes he pulls back, bidding you a goodnight as he stumbles off to his own room, leaving you with a starstruck smile on your face as you go to bed.
Upon waking up you had noticed a certain buzz in the atmosphere as you pulled yourself out of bed, slipping on a robe and slippers before making your way downstairs.
As you approached the table for breakfast you had noticed no one was there, to your surprised, before quickly remembering it was the day of Felix’s new friend arrival.
You shuffled to the living room, approaching the rest of them. Felix opened his arms up for you as you scrambled to go sit in his lap.
As he pulled you down into his lap he leaned to whisper in your ear,
“You missed his arrival darling, you slept in so much, must’ve had a marvelous night to put you to sleep like that.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as you leaned back into his chest, looking up at him before whispering back.
“I’d say mediocre at best,” He rolls his eyes dramatically, feigning hurt by your words.
“Well as I was saying, he’s upstairs getting settled so you should meet him by dinner.” You nodded up at him, placing a kiss on his cheek as you settled into his chest.
You had slept through breakfast and lunch when you had woken up, so you didn’t hesitate to jump up to get ready for dinner, after you had dressed yourself, you found your way to Felix’s room, not even having the chance to knock before he opens the door.
“You know you never have to knock, lovey.”
“Just trying to be nice,” He smiles at you,
“Alright, we should get going, everyone is already down there.
Walking into the dining room, ready to take a seat, when you had noticed your usual spot next to Felix was now taken up by a dark haired boy with piercing eyes.
You simply shot him a look, before pulling out a chair across from him to sit at, causing muffled laughter to leave Venetia and Farleigh.
Elspeth cleared her throat, trying to resolve some tension,
“So, Oliver, how is Oxford for you?”
Oliver, you thought to yourself, makes sense
Oliver, as you learned his name, shuffled as he set down his cutlery, a loud clank as he does so.
“Well, I am actually enjoying it,” He wrings his heads as he tries to form a sentence, and before a second passes, you speak up.
“So Oli, is it okay if I call you that? Anyway, how’d you meet our dear Felix here?” Your eyes bore into his, trying to read him, not completely trusting his presence here yet.
“Well, I, uh,” Before he had a chance to finish Felix cut in, conveying you to stop.
“Well he practically saved my life, it was pure fate.”
As Felix went on to retell the story of their meeting in full detail you continued to to stare at him, almost trying to see through him.
Before you had even realized dinner was over and Felix was once again leading you to your room, going through the same routine every night.
After you kissed him goodnight you flop down onto your bed, rolling onto your back as you pick up the book you had been reading, flipping it open and determined to read a few chapters before you drift off.
As you make yourself comfortable, you has swore you had heard a creak of the floorboards outside you door. Placing you book down, you listen intently before settling back into bed and brushing it off.
You continue to read a few chapters, not noticing the dark figure that now stood in your doorway, with your door creaked open, what finally ripped your attention away from the words on the pages was the slow squeak of your door hinges as your door was pushed open.
Your head jerked towards the door, noticing the figure as you sit up, throwing you legs over the edge of you bed, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Hello?”
“Y’know I have just the right to be here as you.” Oliver made his way into your room with slow footsteps.
“Oliver? What’re you doing here?” As he approached your bed he stopped, staring down at you,
“You should really try to be nicer to our dear Felix’s guest.” Before you, Oliver drops to his knees, hands on your thighs as he looks into your eyes, not breaking eye contact.
You find yourself stumbling over your words, trying to think of anything as his hands run up your nightgown.
“Oliver. Why’re you in my room?” Your voice shakes as he lays his head on your thighs, looking up at you.
“Just wanted to make sure you know where I stand.”
“What do you-“ you were quickly cut off by the sensation of his fingers on your clit,
“Oh!”
You hand found his way into his hair, a reflex of some sort, moaning as he worked his fingers.
“Look at me.” Your eyes found his as he watched your face, fingers working diligently in your cunt, pulling you closer in.
Just as you felt yourself about to reach your peak, he pulled back, placing his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them.
You watched him while your chest roses and falls , soft pants leaving your lips.
“Taste so sweet, like a peach.” He pulls himself back, never taking his eyes off of yours, as he pulls your underwear down your legs.
“You need to know that i’m no threat, angel.”
You watch him with your mouth gaping, soft whine’s coming from your throat as he pulls your thighs apart, shoving his head under your nightgown.
You feel your legs tense up around his head as his tongue prods at your slick entrance, nose bumping into your clit.
Your hands find your way to his hair again, grasping it in your fist as you watch him lap at your wet pussy.
He keeps his eyes on you as he pushes a finger into you, lips still on your clit while he works up, pushing you to the edge.
You pull at his hair, thighs clenching around his head as your thighs tremble in need, desperately rutting against his face as you feel yourself approaching your orgasm.
He slips in another finger, curling it to where you need it the most, groaning against your cunt as you clench around his fingers.
“Such a fucking slut, giving yourself up to someone you don’t even know.”
As the words left his lips you let go, covering your mouth as your body shook against him, reaching your peak.
While you brought yourself back down and opened your eyes, Oliver stood before you, placing a rough kiss on your lips before sauntering off back to his room, leaving you to think over what just happened.
The early morning sun shines through your window as pull yourself out of bed, thinking over last night again in your head as you made your way to breakfast.
Making your way to your seat you stop near Felix, leaning down to softly whisper in his ear,
“Maybe Oliver isn’t so bad.” before taking your seat across from him
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brownbearwrites · 4 months
Note
felix and ollie as lana del rey daddysssssss.. soft reader who is like a little soft bunny and she wants to ask ollie and felix to be rough with her in bed but she doesn’t know how toooo 🥴 JUST IMAGINE HOW MUCH THEY WOULD TEASE HERRRR RAHHHHHHH 💞
no bc dating felix and oliver is so national anthem coded it's crazy.
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i'm imagining this with a reader whose family a little more protective, keeping her far away from the more debaucherous parts of aristocratic life. she's never had a fling, never had the chance to properly figure herself out. she's probably known felix her whole life, blushing her way through every brief conversation with him before she's inevitably whisked away by a relative that's concerned about what influence a boy like him could possibly have on a girl like her.
felix is headstrong, though. the fact that he cannot have you just makes winning you over that much sweeter. it takes him months of surreptitious glances, hushed conversations, and touches that could almost pass as accidental — but when you finally kiss him, your strawberry gloss smearing against his lips, it makes his head spin.
it only makes sense that, after all of that, felix is gentle with you, all soft touches and sweet-talk when he finally gets you between his sheets. he knows you hasn't been able to explore much, which is why he does everything in his power not to scare you off.
adding oliver into the mix had been a risk. felix knows you, though. knows what it means when your cheeks blush pretty pink, and your eyes keep wandering over to where water droplets from the lake drip down into the waistband of oliver's swimming trunks. felix teases you about it later that night, refusing to let you cum until you finally confess.
'I want oliver to fuck me'
fucking oliver is different than fucking felix. there's a sense of constraint in him — like he could do so much more, but won't. of course you're satisfied, how could you not be, but you cannot help but wonder what it'd be like if he just let loose. if they both did.
you end up drinking an extra glass of wine during dinner for a bit of liquid confidence, so you're a little loose-lipped when the three of you retreat to the safety of your shared room. you're curled up against oliver, your head resting on his chest, as you both not-so-sneakily watch felix undress for bed.
“can you, um- can you be a bit rougher tonight?” you mumble shyly.
“what's that, love? speak up for us,” oliver says, a teasing lilt in his voice that reveals that he knows exactly what you asked.
you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, “I wanted to ask if you and felix could be less gentle with me tonight”.
felix slides into bed behind you, spooning you from behind. your two lovers give each other a look, like this is some scenario they've secretly been whispering about behind your back that's finally coming true. the grin on oliver's face makes you painfully aware of the throbbing between your thighs.
“Aww,” felix tuts sarcastically, “is our girl feeling a little needy? Are your daddies not fucking you the way you like?”. his warm hands rub at the soft skin of your waist.
“No,” you quickly protest, “I just- I want a little more”.
oliver's fingers slide into your hair, giving it a tug that makes you gasp. “Alright then, doll,” he says, “we can give you more”.
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i-love-ptv · 4 months
Text
High By the Beach
Felix Catton x reader
Smut <3
An: AHHH SECOND FIC BBS!! ENJOY! Also, if I was Oliver, the drain wouldn’t be the only thing i’m sucking on…
(ik Felix smokes cigs but i feel like he’ll get high every once n a while :3)
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Felix loves to get high. But he loves fucking you even more. Adding the two together makes him feel like he just might have made it to heaven early.
The sight of you, his angel, wrapping your pouty, bitten lips around a blunt makes his cock twitch inside of you. Although, he makes a mental note of not biting your lips as hard. He couldn’t be rough with his sweet baby. After all, he is a gentle, and passionate lover. For now, anyways.
He always became so soft when high; wanting nothing more than to please you, and show you how much he loves you.
His strokes are sloppy, as he messily pumps in and out of you. Even so, you can still feel and see the passion and love he has for you.
Neither of you ever pay attention to how long the both of you remain intertwined. The two of you could go for hours and not think twice about it; but there are zero complaints from either side.
But sometimes, after he’s had one too many puffs, his mind gets hazy. That’s a given of course, but this makes him zone out. Makes him forget where exactly he is. Leading to him accidentally sliding out of your soaked cunt.
He comes down from the clouds in his head and realizes his mistake.
“s-shit. oh m’so sorry lovie, s’alright..lemme make it all better baby.” He slurs out in a whisper.
Nothing makes him happier than when he blows the smoke into your face; watching your eyes droop as you inhale softly.
The noises that can be heard in the room are his soft, needy groans; the slight bang of the headboard bumping against the wall; his big, heavy balls slapping against your skin. And most importantly, the sound of your high-pitch moans.
That’s his favorite noise in the whole world. It sounds like a heavenly gospel to him; the sweet melody of his angel. He swears it’s the best song he’s ever heard.
“tha’s right m’sweet angel, sing t’me.”
He doesn’t care who hears, in fact, that’s the last thing on his mind. All he can think about is how he’s pressing on your tummy as your pussy clenches around him. How your whines and cries become more rapid and abrupt; how your back arches while he continues to press you down into the mattress.
“c’mon baby, do it f’me. I know y’can”
His eyes shine as you cum around his cock; your pussy sucking him in. His brows furrow as he feels your delicious cum start to drip onto his cock. He looks down and watches the smoke crowd the bed as the base of his dick and his balls turns milky white from your drenched cunt. His thrusts slowly come to an end.
“ohhhh m’sweet angel, y’did soo good f’me.” He coos as he lays on top of you.
As you go to ask him about what he wants to do when it comes to him finishing, you hear soft snores exit his body.
You finish off the blunt and eventually drift off to sleep, the thought of Felix leaving himself unfinished roaming through your mind.
Felix didn’t think about coming, his goal was to give you the pleasure that you need; the pleasure that you deserve.
After all, he is a passionate lover.
1K notes · View notes
sincerelyverena · 3 months
Note
can you do ollie watching felix and reader in the bathtub plss
this was so fun to write! i absolutely adored exploring a more submissive oliver in this one. thank u for the request my lovely anon. <3
⟡⁺ SALTWATER
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. . . OLIVER QUICK X FELIX CATTON X FEM!READER ‘i'm your biggest fan, i'll follow you until you love me.’ @watercolorskyy
inbox is always open to requests!
in whichꕀ
✦ ﹒oliver witnessed his most secret fantasies play out before him.
tagsꕀ
✦ ﹒smut ﹐dom!felix﹐oliver being a creepy little fucker ﹐felix giving princess treatment﹐reader and felix are an established pairing ﹐oh felix! you little tease!﹐felix taking control ﹐voyeurism﹐non-consential voyeurism ﹐waterplay﹐rubber duck rubber fuck﹐masturbation ﹐pet names ﹐praise﹐bite-sized oneshot
THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @sparklehani ﹐@vikwrites
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They always said an open door is an invitation.
What was remaining of Oliver’s good-willed conscience advised him to turn back. He turned a blind eye to the nagging voice polluting the crevices of his scalp. Alas, the musters of benevolence tumble into an attuned silence at the scene poured to life before him.
The vivid imagination from the deepest crevices of Oliver’s fantasies played out before the widening of his aquamarine irises.
You. Perched atop the broadened boundaries of Felix’s lap. The length of your legs propped on either side of his awfully prominent hips. A sight alone caused the fabric of Oliver’s lower nightwear to tighten, which caused the bridge of his throat to constrict with halted breath.
As if a single movement out of place would disturb such intimacy.
The extent of Oliver’s arm extended upward, hand grappled around the ridge of the rippled doorway. Fingers twisting, pouring the molten heat pooled behind his abdomen throughout the strain of his ever-so-whitening knuckles.
A soft moan sounded throughout the otherwise quiet air.
An even softer gasp accompanies the seemingly murmured noise. “Felix…”
Oliver’s eyes offered a singular flutter. The firmament blue hardened into an avid mirror of lust as he witnessed the scene playing out before his very presence. 
The depths of Felix’s girth are illustrated beneath your weeping cunt. Oliver had to refrain from any variation of a choked noise to escape the hollow of his throat at the depiction. The flimsy material of the garments hung by his hips seemed to be on the verge of snapping altogether in the hue of your strangled pleas as Felix teased your slit.
“Did my baby forget how to use her words?” Felix’s prodding words drawled onward, lazily at that. Each syllable bounced off of the bathroom’s sleazy walls and reverberated into the crook of Oliver’s ears. 
His left arm immersed itself in the translucent water pooling around the pair. The other extended toward yourself, the adequate length of his fingers combed throughout the dampness of your locks. Teasing each hair strand before the edges of his digits rim along your scalp.
Felix’s water-submerged hand crept toward the space sandwiched between the roll of your back and the soft fat of your thighs. His palm pressed deeply into your asscheeks, squeezed into it. You yelped.
“What d’ya want, princess?”
The tip of his girth continued to strain against you purposefully. “Felix, don’ make me beg…”
The hand that once cradled the side of your head retreated from the wetness of your hair. Broadened fingers pull around the dew-dusted surface of your jaw, stubby nails dug into whatever face fat you possessed. You moaned around his hands, the sound muffled by the pure pressure his hand possessed.
Your moans turned into pleas. “Fi, baby– I… need you in me.”
“Say please.” 
“Please..”
Oliver thought for a moment he’d release in his pants then and there.
As Felix began to ease himself into you, the bridge of Oliver’s hand wordlessly slipped into the fabric adorning his hips. Fingers itching to ease the throbbing strain of his groin, already slick with thin pre-cum. The ridge of your back arched with strangled breath as Felix’s girth disappeared into you completely.
Palms pressed toward his neck, and you choked back a whimper. The sturdiness of Felix’s hips began to shift toward you lazily. His thrusts were comparable to rolls as his girth massaged the tightness of your inner walls. You found yourself grinding desperately against him, the friction coursing speckles of pleasure to ignite within you.
As the snaps of Felix’s length gradually intensify, so does the work of Oliver’s palm. His eyes practically glazed over as he witnessed before him the writhing sensualness that occurred. If Oliver didn’t know his proper place, he’d be a whining mess as you were now.
“My beautiful girl, you’re doin’ so well.” 
Felix praised in between strained breaths. The base of his hand slipped from your dew-graced shoulders toward the roll of your hips. He bathed in the little noise that escaped the depths of your throat as he plunged himself deeper into you.
Oliver’s cock convulsed. Reams of pleasure built at the base of his spine.
You were similarly nearing the edge. Had given in ages ago to Felix’s timing rather than yours. Gone were the desperate writhing of your wetness. Replaced solely by the erratic pace your lover had built into you. 
“Fi, I’m… almost there.”
“I dunno, you feel too good ‘round me sweetheart.” Felix teased, a humorous tone alighting the drawl of his words. He pumped into you a tad hoarser for exaggeration. Upturned lips in the fashion in which you clung yourself upon him. A silent plea to go deeper. 
Oliver almost slipped a breathless curse from the hitched nature of his breath. His girth is hot in the base of his hands, dripping pure need between his fingers. The fact that he was as desperate as you are to release almost made him combust.
“On one condition.” Felix prompted at last.
“Anything.”
He continued to drive himself deeper into you. The hand Felix adorned upon your hips tightened with each word that escaped the lushness of his lips. He grunted with effort, yet kept an easygoing hue in his voice as he continued. 
“The only word I want to hear on your lips when you cum is my name.”
The renowned heir deep inside you now refused to await a proper response. Instead, the work of his hips tightened into a merciless tempo. Striking ass as he plunged into you over and over again. Prying out noises of pleasure you never knew were possible, all while singing his name with praise. 
Just as he ordered.
The pleasure that conquered the base of your torso intensified, just as Oliver, whose fingers grew warm with the strength he poured into his arm movements. He surveyed you, comparable to a hawk as he caught onto the scattered hints of your soon-to-be release. How Oliver only wished deeply to be inside of you as Felix is now, to have the opportunity to feel your tightness. He squeezed the entire wrap of his fingers around his length.
“Felix, Felix, Felix…”
You whispered his name like a prayer. Like a mantra. A mantra as you grew hot with a desire to peak, that peak approaching rapidly. The basis of your vision shifts rapidly with the pure intensity of the ecstasy that plunged into you. Oliver soon grew to repeat these mantras to himself, choking back physical moans as his digits pathetically rolled along the tip of his girth.
Felix’s release was growing closer, although he didn’t make it obvious. He never did. He just peered downward at you with a lazy drawl of a smile, soaking up the view of you sprawled out for him. Chanting his name. He reached downward into the lukewarm waters, the tip of his two fingers brushing against the pearl that lined your drenched entrance.
“I need you to cum for me. Can you do that?” Felix inquired aloud, a hint of childish glee audible in his voice. The pounding his girth offered to you never faltered the slightest in the meantime, an awe-aspiring – yet not surprising – sentiment he possessed.
In response to his words, you could only nod. Too overtaken with ecstasy.
Oliver, on the other hand, bored his eyes into Felix longingly. “Yes, yes, please.” His words too mustered to be heard over the fucking pounds of flesh and skin. It felt good to say. To good as his length pulsated in between his grip.
“Such a good girl.” Felix hummed his praises. The fingers that fidgeted with your clit fell back, pinching the bud instead. The motion is enough to pull you over the edge entirely. 
You snapped. Coming undone underneath his relentless jackings. The tide had broken, and the pleasure you had been chasing for minutes now had broken into you entirely. Felix. Felix. Felix. All you could vocalise. He was your beginning, your end. Your everything.
But the core of your fantasies. The middle. He stood blanketed in the shadows, relying on the small gap between the door and frame. His back arched with effort as he reached his peak. Oliver’s fingers squeezed around the doorway in an attempt to choke back any musters of his presence. White-hot pleasure seared through him, cock convulsing entirely as the centre of his boxers grew warm with the force of his seed. He could see stars. Hell, Oliver was convinced he could’ve taken a glimpse of the Earth’s secrets entirely with the force of his orgasm.
He came back down to reality with a single sentiment that overlooked the pure euphoria he had received. Oliver watched onward for a few extended seconds as Felix followed in his peak, and you slumped into him. Unaware of his presence, unaware of his thirst for the both of you.
You had never known the love he possessed for you.
You had never even suspected the fact Oliver would kill to submit to the two of you entirely.
Up until now, at least.
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WORD COUNT: 1K MASTERLIST REQ ME!
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982 notes · View notes
keraxxx · 4 months
Note
Omg your writing is so good and thx for satisfying the desire for oliver quick content lmao. could you write a short kinda fluffy smut piece for oliver x fem reader?
You’re my favorite
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Pairing: Oliver Quick x afab!reader
Warnings: porn with no plot, soft!oliver, p in the v, thigh kissing, praising, kissing, pet names, cursing, oral (f receiving) , not proof read.
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven’t released the next chapter to my series, i’ve been busy. But in the mean time, enjoy this request. 🤭 (sorry it’s so short!)
Requests are open. (masterlist)
-
Oliver was on his knees and you were at the edge of your bed, his hands running up and down your thighs as he looks up at you. "You're so pretty.." He whispers as he lowers his lips down to the plump part of your thigh, placing a small kiss that leaves you yearning for more of him. You smile at him, your hand full of his hair. You hum in satisfaction as he kisses your other thigh, slowly trailing up to your shorts.
“May I?” He teases the fabric of your shorts, pulling at the waistband only for it to snap back, causing a slight sting to jolt through your body. “Yes.. please Ollie.” You whine softly and he laughs at your eagerness. “Anything for my sweet girl..” He whispers as he pulls at the waistband, tugging them off your legs and tossing them to the side. “Lean back.” You obey, leaning back onto your bed and sliding yourself up slightly. Oliver pulls you back and shakes his head as he tuts. He smiles at you and you giggle as you lift yourself up with your elbows. You watch as he slowly pulls your underwear down.
He looks at your slick folds as they glisten ever so slightly, a smirk appearing on his face. “Oh my..” He tosses your underwear away with your shorts and lifts your thighs up into his shoulders. He inhales your sweet scent before placing his mouth on your throbbing clit, indulging himself in your taste. You gasp softly, your hands gripping the sheets as he moves his tongue making small figures before slurping up your juices. “Mmm..” He hums to himself as he brings his tongue down to your entrance, teasing you before slowly plunging his tongue into your hole.
You moan and your hand flies to the top of his head, tugging at his hair and massaging his scalp as you push his head down. Your hips buck up into his face and you feel him laugh against your pussy. “Ollie- oh fuck.” You groan out as his tongue moves in and out of you. He pulls his tongue out and licks your folds, licking up to your clit as well. He pull himself up to your face and kisses you, your juices mixing with your saliva.
“Can you taste yourself, princess?” He smirks at you and you moan in response, pulling him back into the kiss. He pushes himself up slightly, undoing his pants as he pulls out his throbbing cock. He pulls away, panting, your hand caressing the side of his face as he aligns himself with your entrance. He moans as he slides his tip over your glistening folds. “Fuck..” He whispers to himself.
Without warning, he snaps his hips into yours and you yelp, clenching around his thick cock. He exhales before slowly pumping into your tight pussy, juices probably spilling all over your bed. He groans. “My favorite pussy..” He hums and you whimper. “All yours, Ollie.” He chuckles and picks up the pace. “Ohh fuck.” You moan as he grunts, your walls closing around him tighter. “So tight..”
You lean up to himself and kiss him again, the kiss sloppier than before, your mouth wide open as he kisses you deeply. You choke out a sob as his hips snap up again, going deeper. “Ollie-“ He grunts, eyes closed and you can tell he’s focused on making you feel good. Your moans become louder, a familiar knot forming in your stomach and your hand snakes down to your clit as you rub circles, bringing you closer to your high.
“You’re my favorite baby.” He whispers and those words fill your head, sending you over the edge. You gasp and you jaw drops open, your legs shaking as you come all over his cock. You bite your lip and he slows down. He stays in you for a second, nuzzling his head into your neck as you pull at the fabric of his shirt. He kisses your neck, calming you down. “God you’re amazing.” You giggle at his comment and he kisses your jawline. He gently and slowly pulls himself out of you, pulling his pants up. He hands you your panties and helps you slide them on. He lays down next to you with a sigh and you both stare at the ceiling.
“Did you mean that?” You whisper as you turn your head to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Mean what?”
“I’m your favorite..” He nods. “Of course you are.” He kisses your head and you smile.
“You’re my favorite..”
-
490 notes · View notes
agroteraa · 3 months
Text
Artemis
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Oliver Quick x f!Reader
My fic masterlist
Part 2.
Part 1: Actaeon
Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)
Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)
Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.
Word Count: 5,5K
After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.
So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...
You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.
"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.
"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"
Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.
"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."
"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.
When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.
"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.
"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."
"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.
You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?
That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.
You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.
Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.
It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...
... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.
* * *
"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.
"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."
"Why aren't you with them too?"
"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.
"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."
At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Oh, really?"
"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.
He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.
"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.
Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.
After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.
"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.
"Hello!-" you started.
"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?
You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.
"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.
"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."
"Yeah, that’s great..."
"And how was yours?"
"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."
"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"
"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."
You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.
The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.
But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.
"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."
With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.
At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.
But no.
You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.
His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.
The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.
"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.
You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.
After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.
*Knock-knock*
"Oliver!"
The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.
"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.
"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.
You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."
"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.
He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.
He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.
The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.
His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.
Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.
He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.
He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.
"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."
You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.
Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.
"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.
Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.
* * *
Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.
But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.
Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.
The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?
The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.
"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."
Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.
Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.
"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.
"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.
"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.
"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.
The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:
Baby, can't you see I'm calling?
A guy like you should wear a warning
It's dangerous, I'm falling
There's no escape, I can't wait
I need a hit, baby, give me it
You're dangerous, I'm loving it
You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.
Too high, can't come down
Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round
Do you feel me now?
He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.
With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic?
And I love what you do
Don't you know that you're toxic?
He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.
It's getting late to give you up
I took a sip from my devil's cup
Slowly, it's taking over me
What a confession. Or was it a call?
You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!
Intoxicate me now with your loving now
I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)
Intoxicate me now with your loving now
I think I'm ready now
Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.
Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.
The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.
You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.
"Oliver!"
He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.
"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"
"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."
You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.
It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.
"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.
"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."
"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"
"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"
Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"
You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.
With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic?
Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.
Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.
"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"
You nodded, smiling.
"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.
At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.
Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.
His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.
You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.
"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.
He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.
"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."
"My sweet Y/N..."
Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.
"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."
Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.
He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.
"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.
“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.
You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.
You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.
You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.
You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.
"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.
"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.
"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."
Oliver chuckled softly.
"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."
You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."
Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.
"Yes, I guess, it is."
The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.
He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.
The fun continued. The hunt was a success.
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
Note
I came from your Saltburn post, I will do anything to read some Oliver quick fluff. Wether the reader is sick or how they’d get along at a party and be drunk together 🫶
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Oliver, upon overhearing from your friends that you had come down with a common cold, immediately decides to take advantage of the situation in hopes of getting closer to you; by proving to you that he would be there for you in your time of need. Sick or otherwise.
Oliver would act overly sympathetic towards you during your recovery period, considering how vulnerable and susceptible you looked, especially as you took respite within the comfort of your bed; in hopes to evade going through yet another violent episode of cold shivers as you stared at him through bleary eyes.
‘Oliver.’ You asked, voice raspy from the continuous coughing you’ve been doing since this morning. ‘What’re you doing here, didn’t nobody tell you I was sick?’ You add, not wanting him nor your worst enemy to experience what you were currently going through. It was hell, pure, genuine hell. You couldn’t even stick one limb out of bed before immeditly retreating back under the covers.
It also didn’t help that your favourite pair of fluffy slippers were halfway across the room…
‘Oh, I overheard from a few of your friends that you weren’t well, and took it upon myself to bring a couple of things that I’d think would help.’ Oliver replied as he then awkwardly lifted the bag full of snacks, medication, amongst many other things with a sheepish shrug of the shoulder. You smiled softly. How sweet. You thought to yourself as you watched Oliver begin to unload the contents of the bag onto your bed. ‘You didn’t have to do this all for me Ollie, I don’t want you getting sick or anything because of me.’ You told him but Oliver only gave you a smile in response as his beautiful eyes stared at you intently with an expression you couldn’t quite place your finger on…
Oliver on the other hand was thriving, sure he wanted you to get better in due time, but until then he’ll engrave your dependency on him so deeply and so intricately into the depths of his mind forevermore; acting more or less as a delusional self serving reminder to himself that you needed him to function in this life filled with vapid cunts and losers.
He was all you needed in life and he was more than willing to risk catching your sickness if it meant furthering his ambitions of further integrating himself into your life fully. If anything Oliver hopes he catches your sickness so that you would feel the need to pay the kindness he had displayed towards you forward.
‘It’s alright y/n, honestly.’ Oliver said with a chuckle as he made sure you were tightly tucked in and your pillows were fluffed for extra comfort, making sure that you see the effort he puts in just for you and only you, just like he always has done before seating himself comfortably on the edge of your bed, always conscious of being fully within your line of sight as his body acted as a blockade for your sight of the doorway; forcing you to look at solely him.
‘I’m not scared of getting a little sick if it meant helping you back to full health, isn’t that what friends are for? Helping each other?’ Oliver adds in an odd tone, but you were adamant it was the cold talking, and only continue to smile at his seemingly sweet and caring actions. ‘You’re the best Ollie, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.’ You uttered whilst biting back a yawn, the need for sleep having begun to take over once more as your eyelids began to grow heavy and harder to keep open with each blink. ‘You’re truly a lifesaver Oliver Quick and I love you for that.’ You added on in a sleepy daze.
To Oliver on the other hand, you might as well have been cohesive and clear as day, with how intently he hung onto those words, feeling a strong fluttering sensation within his chest; something he always got whenever you said anything that remotely encouraged his obsessive and suffocating behaviour. Slowly but surely he was getting what he wanted and he wasn’t about to rush the process now, not with how much meticulous planning he had put into every chance encounter he got with you.
Oliver had to practice his patience more but you were too tempting of a person for him not to lunge towards. A forbidden fruit laid within the garden of Eden in every sense of the word.
‘I love you too.’ He said in a low murmur before running his hand across your forehead, collecting the accumulated sweat there. ‘Get some rest, it’s fine,’ Oliver utters as he watched your eyes close and your body settles in for sleep, ‘ for I’ll be here when you wake up.’ He finishes, eyes never once leaving you for a single second.
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drtyfiction · 3 months
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IMAGINE [2/2]
Oliver Quick x Y/N (she/her) Saltburn spoiler alert!!
[Part 01]
- You know, Oliver, I thought you were cleverer than that. Y/N invited me because she wanted to. They want me back, after all. She wants me back in Saltburn.
- And why would she want that?
Oliver's gaze shifts from frustration to a hint of anger. Restrained, inexpressive, repressed, but still anger. His rage can't really be perceived by his facial expressions, but it subtly leaks from deep within his eyes all the way to where Farleigh's sight can reach. Oliver stares at him with a slightly frightening fervor.
Despite still not knowing it, Farleigh should, indeed, be afraid.
- I don't know, I think she misses me. No, actually, I'm sure she misses me terribly. I will eventually call her mine, you see, Oliver. She puts on a certain act and tells me she's not really interested, but later, when I leave, she calls me back, as if nothing had ever happened. I'm sure she desires me as much as I've been craving her. They want me. Oh no, even better. They need me, Oliver. She has always needed me. - Farleigh gradually approached Oliver, facing him closely, until each could smell the alcohol coming off the other's breath. Farleigh also sensed that Oliver was wearing an expensive brand of perfume, probably one that belonged to Felix. - I'm part of this house, I always have been, just like her. You're here on vacation, just for a short visit. I'm permanent in Y/N's life and I'm a resident of Saltburn. This is just a short fling you're enjoying, but it will soon end. You'll dwell on it for the rest of your life, and you'll hold on to this moment for years to come. You'll tell your children about what you lived here. But you'll never, ever have any of it back, including her. I am the one who will always go back into her arms.
On that very moment, Oliver feels a bitter taste settle on his lips, surging like an exhilarating reflux from his stomach. He wishes he could have a drink to mask the stinging taste that instantly assaults his senses. However, he can't, as his cup remains empty. He looks again at the plastic bottom, then at Farleigh, and he can no longer hide the disgust that emerges on his face. He is no longer feeling anger towards him and all his self-centeredness, but rather disgust. A disgust that crawls up his gut and which he can no longer suppress. His face twitches and his upper lip rises, and Farleigh appears surprised to see, albeit briefly, a trace of real feeling spilling out of Oliver.
How dare Farleigh assume that you want him? Or even worse, how dare he think that you need him? Oliver knows that nothing Farleigh has just said is true, but he can't stop himself from being disgusted by all that he's heard. You've always been, in every way, above all the drama. Oliver is absolutely convinced that you wouldn't have invited Farleigh to the party and he was even more certain that you had never slept with him. He has spent so much time studying your personality and behavior that he knows with great confidence that you are an emotionally independent and collected person who would not submit to Farleigh's whims, no matter how persuasive he tries to be.
Now they're so close to each other that their faces are nearly touching. Oliver tries to turn around to peer at the house, but Farleigh grabs his face with both hands, forcing him to look deep into his brown eyes.
- Catch a train to someplace far away from here. This is not my dream, Oliver. It's my home. So no matter what happens, I always come back.
Farleigh releases him, and Oliver realizes that this was the last straw. He needs to take definitive action. As Farleigh walks away, Oliver mutters between his teeth:
- We’ll see.
There is nothing, or no one, that stands in the way between Oliver and his subject of desire. Everybody should know that. What he hid from everyone is that Oliver's greatest desire is you. He was advancing gradually, building up space and gaining on the territory so that, in the end, he would have you. However, because of what Farleigh has just said, Oliver realizes that he will need to revise his entire plan and take more intense, aggressive action. If he doesn't intervene, things will soon get out of hand, and he cannot possibly imagine losing you to anyone, especially when that someone is Farleigh.
203 notes · View notes
manicpixiefelix · 4 months
Text
head, heart, hand. {Oliver/Reader/Felix}
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It had been a long time since your world has revolved around anyone but Felix Catton. He was like that; undeniably, unassumingly magnetic. You'd watched countless fawning, fairweather friends drawn into his orbit, only to be cast out when he eventually got bored of them, but not you, never you. Maybe you were a toy in the beginning, the thing they'd all called you when they were feeling especially petty, but it became clear that Felix has wanted to keep you around.
You weren't a toy, you weren't family, you were a sharp and beautiful tool, too good, too useful to be put down. Your loyalty was rewarded with a life in his shape. Felix was like the sun, and you lived your life enjoying his warmth, and wanting to keep him shining.
And there's something about the way Oliver Quick thinks and talks that you almost recognise. The others call him a toy but the look in his eyes says he's capable of so much more than that. Oliver Quick is not one to be tossed aside either, and you'll do all you can to make Felix see that too.
The three of you; head, heart, hand.
Oliver thinks. Felix feels. You do.
Need to Know: established fwb!Felix/reader, there will be smut, Oliver is a weird obsessive perv and reader recognises and is pretty into it, obviously manipulation, AU with a happy poly ending
[ IN PROGRESS ]
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen
Part Sixteen
Part Seventeen
Part Eighteen
Part Nineteen
Part Twenty
Part Twenty-One
Part Twenty-Two
Part Twenty-Three
Part Twenty-Four
Part Twenty-Five
Part Twenty-Six
Part Twenty-Seven
Part Twenty-Eight
Part Twenty-Nine
Part Thirty
Part Thirty-One
Part Thirty-Two
Part Thirty-Three
Part Thirty-Four
Part Thirty-Five
Part Thirty-Six
Coda
[ PLUS + ]
a long way down to the bottom of the river - SALTBURN CANON ENDING AU (angst / one-shot)
never wanted anything from you (except everything you had) - SALTBURN CANON ENDING AU 2 (Oliver/Reader / fluff / one-shot)
seen and not heard - Felix & Reader's First Meeting (fluff / one-shot)
all this, and love too (will ruin us) - Reader Murders Oliver For Trying To Kill Felix (Felix/Reader / angst / one-shot)
he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue - Reader Dies At The Maze Instead Of Felix (Felix/Oliver / heavy angst / two-shot)
alone with you - Felix Won't Believe The Reader's Dead (Felix/Reader / heavy angst / one-shot)
and other things that happened by the red staircase - Felix Fingers His Cousin (humour / one-shot)
at the other end of the leash - Felix Beats The Shit Out Of Someone For Trying To Assault The Reader (hurt/comfort / one-shot)
they stare at me (and i stare at you) - CEO!Reader AU With Enemies-To-Lovers (Felix/Reader / miniseries)
love the hand that feeds you - puppy play smut (Felix/Reader/Oliver / post head, heart, hand canon / one-shot)
Ask Box Vignettes;
Reader's Family History of Wealth
Felix/Reader - Joking About The Future
Felix/Reader - Sick Day
Felix/Reader/Oliver - Attending Colin & Araminta's Wedding (Crazy Rich Asians Crossover)
AU Tags;
Vampire AU
Fae AU (ft. Demifae!Oliver)
Crazy Rich Asians Crossover
Oliver & Reader Siblings AU
CEO!Reader AU
Felix Catton's Adventures in Employment
THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
Unrelated Fics & Headcanons;
baby, put your back into it - {Farleigh/Reader/Oliver} - (pwp / two-shot)
Euphoria AU - (12 Years Post Saltburn Canon / dot point headcanons)
----
Other Tags;
#manic-writer; all fics
#it-shouts-back; all asks
#manicpixieart; my posts
2K notes · View notes
chibsandchill · 3 months
Text
Oliver Quick indeed
Fandom: Saltburn
Pairing: Oliver Quick x AFAB!Catton!Reader 
Summary: Oliver never suspected he'd get caught, and he's not exactly against his punishment.
Warnings: NSFW content, a slight amount of dub-con, swearing, Oliver Quick, bathwater drinking, grammatical and spelling errors, Oliver is perhaps a smidge jealous of a bathtub, inappropriate use of a hairbrush
If you know me in real life and you found this… No you didn’t. 
Masterlist
Minors do not interact (seriously, don’t)
Next part
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
NSFW content under the cut
The bathroom is eerily silent – too silent – after Felix’s door slams shut. 
Well, 
not entirely silent. 
Was it possible to be jealous of a bathtub? Four legs, a scooped out body to rest in, and water. It held him you, and warmed you. It took care of the mess and when it was done you abandoned it, but it always welcomed you back. 
Did it long for your return? 
Like him? 
Was he jealous? 
Over a bath? He couldn’t be. 
But Felix would be warmer in his arms, and Oliver would make sure that not even a speck of dirt would muddy him. 
Oliver rinsed his mouth and leant his forehead against the cold mirror. He stared at himself. Blue eyes. Very blue eyes. Elspeth praised his eyes, fawned over them even when they first met. Told him about Venetia and how she’d just die. 
Did Felix like his eyes? Were they blue enough? Too blue? India didn’t have blue eyes, or Annabelle.
 Felix fucked them. 
Has he ever seen Felix with someone with blue eyes? No. 
Suddenly the praise sat wrong inside of him. Were they making fun of him? Did they know? Oliver knocked his forehead against the mirror once, twice, thrice before grinding his teeth together with a glare directed at his image. 
He forced a smile, but not too happy. Then he frowned, but not too unhappy. They liked a broken thing, Felix’s family. But not too broken. Just broken enough for them to be able to ignore it, like a barbie doll missing a few fingers, or a book with a cracked spine. 
Oliver’s father died, his mother an addict. No siblings, no money. Poor, poor Oliver Quick. 
Felix liked feeling needed, appreciated, 
adored. 
Poor Oliver with a dead dad. So, so incredibly sad. No one else in this wide world other than Felix Catton. No friends, no siblings. Just…Felix. 
The bathtub caught his eye. A posh thing, really. Like something out of a painting or a museum. His feet brought him to it before he’d even realized he moved. Oliver stroked the edges, pressed his nails against the porcelain until shivers ran down his spine. There was still some water in it. Warm, hot, taunting him. Felix had been there. A piece of him still lingering around the edges of the drain. 
They had hugged once. Felix was a generous person, free with his affection to everyone around him. He had kissed Oliver’s helmet when they first met. Told him he loved him. 
Did he? 
Leaning over the tub and watching the water slowly circle around the drain filled him with an unfamiliar sense of thrill. Like he was watching something forbidden. A piece of him; of Felix offered on a silver platter. 
Oliver didn’t hesitate as he got in the tub and got down on all fours. Pearly white globs swirling around below him. This was a gift. 
Did Felix leave it to him? 
He must have. 
The door hadn’t been properly closed, and he moaned like a wanton whore. It was on purpose. Did he mean to tease Oliver? He did. He didn’t. Oliver was no one. Felix was everything, 
Oliver’s everything. 
Yes, it was a gift, and Oliver would take anything Felix gave. 
It was still warm when he pressed his face against it. It coated his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his eyes. When he breathed, it followed, and he hated how it left when he exhaled. It clung to his hair. 
Felix. Felix. Felix. 
He wanted it on him. On. On. On. On, 
in. 
The tip of his tongue wetting his lips, a taste of heaven. 
Oliver pressed himself closer, and closer as if to fuse himself together with the porcelain, but even then, 
it would not be close enough. 
He needed to be closer. 
What was wrong with him?
Felix was so far away still, even as Oliver had a mouth full of his cum. He dared not swallow for he would not be separated from even a single piece of him. 
“You’re a fucking freak, y’know that, Oliver?” 
Oliver jolts up, almost banging his head on the faucet. 
“W-what? Oh. Oh! No! I- I wasn’t- I mean- It’s-” 
He felt sticky. Cold. His blood froze. Would you send him away? Tell Felix? Anger blossoms under his skin. Felix wouldn’t understand. How could he? How could perfection look at ugliness and understand? Even the light could not see in the dark. How could he understand the longing? The envy? The chest crushing feeling of being so close to the sun, being burned alive and yet always left craving more and more. Loving every second of losing yourself to another. 
“You weren’t what?” You narrow your eyes. 
“I was just…making sure the tap was closed properly. It’s been dripping all day and night.” 
You scoff. 
“It has!” Oliver tried to defend himself, wiping at his mouth with his wet sleeve. 
“You’re pathetic, Oliver. I saw you… licking. We’ve all seen you stare at him. I mean, I’d say you were his shadow if you didn’t moon over that one as well! But Felix doesn’t see it. He doesn’t believe us when we tell him what a little freak Oliver Quick is.”
Oliver can’t help but feel smug at that. Felix believing him over everyone else? It made him hard. 
It must’ve shown on his face for next thing Oliver knew your fingers burrowed into his hair and you forced him down into the water again. He coughs and splutters but you don’t let him up. 
“ Stop it!” He protests. The water’s gone up his nose, he’s choking on it. 
“What’s wrong, Ollie?” You coo. “I thought you liked drinking bathwater. I’m simply… giving you what you want.”
In his mind he begged for Felix to come save him, like he had at the pub, at uni. Felix would hate him for it. Would cast him away, away from him, away from Saltburn. He’d rather drown in the tub than have Felix come save him. He’d become part of Saltburn then. 
“Please don’t tell Felix,” he managed to get out. 
You hummed but offered no response. 
Cruel. You were all cruel. 
The drain cuts into his face, but you don’t let up. 
Your breath fans over his ear. Oliver shivers. “We’ll see.”
You smell like Felix. You even sound a bit like him too. If Oliver closed his eyes he could almost pretend it was Felix who was taking his shirt off in the bath, who urged him to clean all his spill away. 
It’s filthy.
“Do you want this, Oliver?” 
You placed your hand flat over his bulge, cupping the hard outline of his cock. Could you feel him pulse? 
He shakes his head no. He doesn’t. 
Does he? 
His head’s all muddled. All he can see, all he can feel, 
taste, 
is Felix. 
One thought circles around in his head; more. 
You squeeze, and Oliver moans. 
“Thought so.” You whisper. 
And then you’re gone. 
“Keep your head down.” You order him, though Oliver hadn’t moved a muscle. 
Despite how humiliating it was, he still wanted more. All he felt was longing, envy and pure want. Felix could stand in front of him, his spend in Oliver’s mouth and he’d still want more. When would Oliver be satisfied? How close could he get to Felix? Not close enough. 
Oliver jumps when he feels your hands back on him. You tug at his boxers and his face grows red when you touch him. 
“Well, well, well,” you said to him. “Prepared, are we?”
He shakes his head again. 
“Liar.” You say as you bring your hand down on his ass. Oliver groaned and closed his eyes. 
When had you grown so confident, he wondered? He had barely seen you at the estate, always hiding away in the library with Duncan standing guard by the door. Oliver mistook you for Felix once, but you had only laughed and walked away. Didn’t even turn to look at him. 
And now your finger was in his ass and he was resisting the urge to grind back. You don’t even need to push his head down anymore, he wouldn’t raise it even if you ripped all his hair out. 
You smoothed down some of his hair. “There we go, you poor thing.”
He doesn’t feel poor. Certainly not when your free hand is gripping his cock and stroking it so slowly it feels like torture. Even then the coil in his stomach starts to tighten, a delicious burn in his spine from bending over as he was; face down, ass up. 
Then you’re pulling out your finger. He feels empty. Hungry. He hears the water splash as you run your hand through it, and then you’re touching him again. Spreading the wetness around his hole, in him, everywhere. 
You slip a finger back in. Oliver groaned at the feeling. 
“Can you take another?” You asked. 
His forehead smacked against the porcelain from how hard he nodded. He thinks he might die if you don’t, stuck in this limbo of barely-there pleasure and coldness. 
Oliver shut his eyes when you started pushing in the second one. He’s never had anyone there before. It was uncomfortable and it even hurt a little, but that ember of pleasure in his stomach when you crooked your fingers and touched that spot inside him made him want to beg for you to never go. 
But then, you leave him again. Almost as if you heard his thoughts. 
He sobs against the tub, but then his eyes flashed open in cold surprise as he felt something prodding at his entrance. Something smoother and colder than your fingers. “W-what’s that?” 
“It’s a surprise.” You told him. 
He almost thought you kind when you made him spit in your palm so you could wet his cock with it. He hadn’t thought it could get better, but when you spread it around him, gradually building up to pace again, he wants to thank you. It almost made him forget about the mystery object you were pushing into him. Almost. It was still cold, but felt better than he thought it would. He shuts his eyes again, losing himself to the pleasure. 
It wasn’t long until you had him moaning and whining and grinding against the tub, against you, against whatever it was you were using against him. There wasn’t enough left of Oliver to think it embarrassing how he acted like a wanton whore. All he could think of was the tidal wave of pleasure that was building. It grew. Grew. Grew. 
You push into him harder and harder. Your hand smacked against his skin until he was sure Felix could hear it. If not, then his moans would still tell the story. 
“If only Felix could see you now.” You whisper in his ear, cruel and cold against the warmth of his pleasure. 
Oliver whined. He almost wanted Felix to see. Almost. 
“Freak.” 
Oliver came harder than he ever had in his life. Rope after rope of cum landing on his stomach, in the water, on the sides of the tub. It seemed endless. He shook and cried as the wave fell over him. He was drowning. Drowning in you. In pleasure. In Felix. But you kept your hand on him, tugging and tugging even as he moaned from the overstimulation. 
“Oliver Quick indeed.” You mock him. “I’ve barely even touched you.” 
You tugged out the thing from his ass and threw it next to him, but Oliver didn’t have enough strength to even open his eyes. Not with how you forced him into a second orgasm, one almost more painful than pleasurable. 
“Do you want me to stop?” 
No. Yes. Never. 
He never wanted it to stop. Even as it grew painful and he cried from it, he wanted more. He wasn’t satisfied. Not even close. He wanted more. More. More. More. More, until there was nothing left to give. Until he had taken all you had, and he alone was left. Even then would he want more. 
You scoff at his lack of answer and tear your hand from him, wiping it off on his hair. 
“Go on, Dog, lick it up.” You spat at him. 
And he did, 
addlebrained as he was, so fucked out from the pleasure he couldn’t even tell you his own name. 
He licked and licked, until there was no more left, water nor cum. No more of him, no more of Felix. He had swallowed it all. All gone.
Oliver looked at you from under hooded eyes. Pleading. “Please don’t tell Felix.”
“You’re pathetic.” 
You stormed out of the room, and then his eyes fell on the object you had thrown on him. The surprise, 
it was Felix’s brush. 
Next part
225 notes · View notes
storiesforallfandoms · 3 months
Text
partners ~ oliver quick;saltburn
word count: 3242
request?: no
description: when she figures out his plan, she doesn't want to turn him in. instead, she wants to join him.
pairing: oliver quick x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two, three)
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The Cattons were nice enough people, but you wouldn't say you were friends with the younger members. Your parents were friends with Sir James and Lady Elspeth, so you were often made to socialize with their kids and nephew. That was the extent of your relationship with them, though. You definitely wouldn't consider Felix, Venetia, or Farleigh to be your friends.
But when you got invited to a massive party at the Catton castle for one of Felix's friend's birthdays, how could you say no?
The night was raging on. You could hear the thumping of the music behind you as you walked away from the house. Your head was spinning from the alcohol you had been drinking, combined with the powdery substance Farleigh had offered you. You were feeling claustrophobic inside with all those bodies, so you had come outside for some air. At some point, you had seen the maze that sat behind the house, and your feet started moving towards it before your intoxicated brain could comprehend what you were doing.
You stumbled through the maze. Everything looked the same. You couldn't tell if you were going the right way or walking in circles. You couldn't even tell where the "right way" would lead you at this point.
Eventually, you came to the center of the maze. The statue of a minitour towered over you, and stood at the base of it were two people. You could make out Felix's tall frame and the angel wings of his costume shoved up against the statue. The person in front of him was back to you. You could only see short brown hair with antlers coming from his head. His hands were holding Felix's shirt and their faces were inches apart. You knew you had stumbled onto something you couldn't be seeing, but you couldn't get your body to move back the way you had come.
The unknown boy suddenly stumbled away from Felix. You backed away from the opening before Felix could notice you. You heard the other person retching and gagging before it became quiet. You weren't sure what to do. You were about to creep away when suddenly, the other person appeared.
Through the intoxicated fog in your brain, you were able to put a name to the face: it was Felix's new friend Oliver.
You both looked at each other for a moment, both looking like deer caught in headlights. Oliver almost literally with his antlers. Oliver finally broke away first, brushing past you and walking very quickly away. You stood there, wondering if Felix would be close behind, but when he didn't follow you turned and walked away.
~~~~~~
The next morning, you woke to the sound of a woman shrieking. Your body was aching and you realized it was because you had passed out in the back garden. You pushed yourself to sit up and squinted against the bright sunlight. Your head was pounding from your hangover.
Through your squinted eyelids, you noticed three bodies rushing towards the maze. The Catton servants who were cleaning the mess from the party had stopped and were watching the scene unfold. Something had happened while you were passed out. Something bad.
One of the servants approached you. You could see there was a somber look on his face as he said, "Come with me, ma'am. I'll bring a car around for you."
"What happened?" you asked.
He didn't respond. He just turned away from you, not waiting for you to follow as he walked away.
You slowly got to your feet. Your head was still pounding, but now you were more curious and concerned over what was going on. It was clear the staff wasn't going to tell you, and you didn't want to leave Saltburn without knowing what had happened. Especially if it was something that could've involved you.
You noticed a group emerging from the maze. Your brain had unfogged enough to be able to pick out who it was.
Sir James and Lady Elspeth were first. Elspeth's eyes were watery while James was looking off with a vacant look on his face. Venetia and Farleigh were following behind them. Venetia was leaning against Farleigh in hysterics, while Farleigh's sobs were a little quieter but still heartbreaking.
And trailing behind all of them was Oliver, whose face was just blank.
As if feeling your eyes on him, Oliver's head turned to face you. The two of you locked eyes and it brought forward a memory from your drug addled brain from the night before. One almost exactly like this, except it happened in the maze.
Then that made you realize there was someone missing from this group.
Felix.
All the pieces began falling together in your head. The shriek that woke you was either Elspeth or Venetia finding Felix. The staff was trying to rush you away so the family could mourn and likely so Felix's body could be taken away.
After that was figured out, your brain started putting together other pieces. The last time you had seen Felix was in the maze...with Oliver. If the family was walking away from the maze, that meant that's where his body was. Where he died.
And the last person to see Felix, to be with him when he was alive, was Oliver.
Alarms sounded in your head as you watched the group of mourners walk into the house. You finally managed to get your body to move, following everyone inside. They had all gone their separate ways by the time you walked in. They could've been anywhere in that giant house by now. It would likely take all day to find anyone. But you were determined. You started looking. You would've leave any room unchecked until you found someone.
The first open door you came across, surprisingly, proved to be a success. It was a bedroom, and sat on the floor at the foot of the bed was Oliver. His head was in his hands and his body was wracked with sobs. You would've thought he was faking it if he hadn't been in the room, alone, not expecting anyone to find him.
Before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "You did it, didn't you?"
His head snapped up to look at you. His face was red and tear stained. Was he crying because he was actually in mourning, or because he was guilty?
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.
"I saw you last night," you admitted. "In the maze with Felix. You were the last person with him before he died."
"That doesn't mean I killed him."
"It doesn't, but it is suspicious."
"You're fucking crazy," he snapped. "I didn't fucking kill him. I loved him. He was my friend."
You didn't believe him. You just had this feeling dep down that Oliver had done this.
"Is that why you did it?" you asked. "Because you loved him, but he didn't love you back?"
He stood suddenly. You took a step back as he drew closer. You were playing with fire. If Oliver really had killed Felix, you probably shouldn't be pushing him. You definitely shouldn't have admitted to his face that you remembered seeing him in the maze with Felix. But you weren't afraid of him. You should've been, but you weren't. You were more curious about him than anything.
"I won't tell anyone," you heard yourself saying. "I just want to know."
This seemed to soften him. His eyes were welling up with tears again as he said, "He was going to kick me out. He wouldn't listen, wouldn't let me explain myself. I...I couldn't let him send me home. I can't go home."
You thought he meant he couldn't go home because of his parental issues that you had heard your mum and Elspeth gossiping about when you had been invited to the party. Imagine the shock you felt when Oliver told you everything; that he lied about his parents being drug addicts, his dad's death, even about the event that introduced him to Felix. It had all been a lie to get close to Felix, because he loved Felix.
At least, he had loved Felix, until he came to Saltburn. Now, he only loved Saltburn.
"He found out, and he told me to leave this morning," he said. "I tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen. He found out I wasn't damaged goods anymore, so he didn't want me. I got angry. I...I drugged the bottle of champagne."
He hung his head in guilt.
This poor boy, you thought to yourself. Poor, sad, crazy boy.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
He looked up at you. "What?"
"You said you didn't want to leave Saltburn. Felix was your ticket to staying, but now he's gone. So, what are you going to do to make sure you stay here?"
He looked at you for a long time, as if you had spoken to him in a foreign language and was trying to understand your words. "I can't stay. They won't let me."
"Listen, I know the Cattons fairly well. They don't do emotions. Anything bad happens, they just ignore it and pretend it didn't. It may be harder now that their son has died, but they will still try. You have to play along with that. Whatever they say or do, you just follow."
"That's not going to work for long. Once the funeral ends, they'll probably send me away. There's no reason for me to be here with Felix gone."
"Elspeth is already enamored by you. I heard the way she talked about you with my mum. With Felix gone, you're the closest she's going to have to him. I mean, Venetia is her literal daughter but she can't replace Elspeth's darling boy, and Farleigh is James' family, not hers. You just have to use that to your advantage. Be Elspeth's anchor during her grieving and she'll never want you to leave here."
He hadn't thought of that, and why would he? He didn't know the Cattons the way you did. He had all summer to study then, but you had your entire life to do so. You knew things about them that no one else did. It was about time to make use of that seemingly useless knowledge.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked. "Shouldn't you run to James and tell him I killed his son?"
That was the big question. Earlier, you were determined to tell anyone else in the family what you knew about Oliver and Felix's meeting. You hadn't meant to run into Oliver himself, it just happened that he was the first person you found. But when you did find him, and he was actually sad over Felix dying, your other objectives completely vanished from your mind. You were suddenly intrigued by Oliver's motives. You wanted to know more, to pick his brain. And now that you had, you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel sympathy for him.
Your family was wealthy, but they weren't Catton levels of wealthy. You had a big house, went to private school as a kid and then went to a prestigious college once you graduated, all paid for by your parents. But your life wasn't as extravagant as the Cattons were. They had a castle for God's sake! There were long standing rumors about best selling novels and hit songs being written about them. You may not have been friends with the Cattons yourself, but you did enjoy getting the small tastes of their life that you got every time you were invited to their place. You couldn't imagine how much Oliver, who wasn't actually poor or from a bad family but also certainly was not to your or the Catton's level of wealth, was enjoying the taste he got over the summer, and how hard it was going to be for him to be sent back to his regular life.
"You intrigue me," you finally said. "You're very...complex. And, truthfully, I don't blame you for not wanting to leave Saltburn. I'd give anything to own this place."
"Maybe...maybe we can work together," Oliver suggested. "You know a lot more than I do, so I'd really appreciate your help in staying here."
"What will you give me for helping you?"
"What can I give you?"
You thought for a moment. In the literal sense, there wasn't much Oliver could give you for helping him. But, in the figurative sense...
You looked at him again. He was watching you, waiting for an answer. Instead, you leaned towards him and kissed him. It was quick, a peck on the lips just to test the waters. You pulled away just as quickly as your lips had touched his, and watched his face for a reaction.
It took him a moment to process what had happened, and when he did, a small smile tugged at his lips. "Just one?"
You couldn't help but smile back at him. "One for every way I help you stay at Saltburn."
"Well, in that case, you've already given me two pieces of advice."
You giggled as you both leaned in to kiss again.
~~~~~~
15 Years Later
You had just entered your and Oliver's apartment, newspaper in hand. You nudged the door closed with your hip as you flicked through the pages. It didn't take you long to find the page you were looking for: the obituaries.
There were a number of them, but they were all overshadowed by the biggest one, both figuratively and literally since it was taking up half the page.
"Lady Elspeth Catton passes away from her sudden illness. She leaves no family after the tragic deaths of her children, Felix and Venetia Catton, and the recent passing of her husband, Sir James Catton. She instead leaves her possessions, including the Catton estate of Saltburn, to her beneficiary, Oliver Quick."
Just as you finished reading the page, your cellphone rang. You pulled it from your pocket and smiled at Oliver's contact photo.
"I've just finished reading the news," you said as you answered the phone. "Poor Elspeth. Finally out of her misery, at least."
"She had a long battle," Oliver agreed. "Took her fuckin' ages to go."
"But it seems she chose a beneficiary for the estate. Some prat named Oliver Quick."
Oliver chuckled. "Get your ass to Saltburn. I've missed you too much."
"I'll be right there."
After Felix's death, you had helped Oliver to stay in Saltburn as long as possible. He had come up with getting rid of Farleigh and Venetia on his own, but you continued to feed him ways to stay in Elspeth's good graces for as long as he could. Eventually, however, Sir James had had enough of Oliver's presence and went as far as to bribe Oliver to leave.
During all that time plotting together, you two had started a relationship. Once James had kicked Oliver out of Saltburn, you had convinced your parents to let him stay with you until you both graduated from college and were ready to be out on your own. It wasn't the Catton castle by any means, but it was still better than going home to his small suburban life.
Many years had passed, but Oliver never forgot Saltburn. He reminisced on those months constantly. You were both hoping to sneak him back in with you if James or Elspeth had ever invited your family over, but it seemed James had an inkling to your plan, as the moment he found out you two had been dating he stopped inviting you specifically over. Your remembered your own father's outrage when James had invited them for dinner one evening, "But your daughter and that boy of hers are not invited."
When you both found out that Sir James had passed, it was like no time had passed at all. Even with a 15 year wrench in your plans, the two of you immediately went back to plotting. Oliver found out where Elspeth had been staying and arranged to "coincidentally" bump into her one day. As to be expected, Elspeth invited Oliver back to Saltburn with her. You stayed in your apartment and continued with your own work, getting occasional calls and texts from Oliver to keep you updated. It didn't take long for Elspeth to suddenly fall mysteriously ill, and when she had, you found yourself watching the papers every day to hear if she had finally passed.
Now that she had, Oliver finally owned Saltburn, and you could finally be with him in the place that you had both dreamed of for so long.
You took a cab to the castle that you had not seen in over a decade. You still couldn't help but marvel at how grand it was, how it hadn't changed a day since the last time you were there.
Oliver was waiting at the steps for you. You went to pay the cab driver, but Oliver stopped you to do it instead.
"No way my lady is paying such a ridiculous cab fare," he said. "Especially not when I've come into a large sum of money recently."
He all but pulled you from the cab and wrapped his arms around you. He kissed you deeply and passionately. If there wasn't the cab driver and one of the estate's butlers watching you, you were sure he would've taken your clothes off and had his way with you right there.
"Welcome home, love," he said against your lips.
He brought you into the house, telling the butler to bring your bags in as you passed him. It wasn't anything new inside, but you still couldn't help but take in the house. It had been so long, and yet you were still entranced by the magic of the house.
"It hasn't changed," you breathed.
"Not yet, anyways. We can fix that, if you want," Oliver said and placed a kiss on your cheek.
"I don't know. It's so old, it's almost like living in a museum. I would hate to ruin any of this history."
He was smiling at you. You couldn't help but smile back. After all these years, it was finally yours.
"You know," Oliver said, stopping in one of the many sitting rooms, "when we started this, we had a deal. You helped me, and in exchange I would give you something."
You giggled at the memory. "I think you already gave me a pretty heated exchange for this one."
"That wasn't the exchange, that was just an 'I missed you' kiss," he said. Your eyes followed him down as he got to one knee and pulled a ring from his pocket. "This is the real exchange."
Your eyes began to water as you looked at the beautiful diamond Oliver was holding out to you.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
A laugh escaped your lips, but through your tears of happiness it came out more like a sob. "It took you long enough to ask."
Oliver laughed as well. "But is that a yes?"
"Of course it's a yes, you idiot."
He stood and took you into his arms again. This time, he kissed you with so much more passion than before that you felt like your head was going to explode.
Finally, the two of you were getting the lives that you always wanted.
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brownbearwrites · 4 months
Note
pt.19281618192 of my obsession with felix oliver and reader poly coupleeee💞💞
SO JUST IMAGINE FELIX AND OLIVER BRAT TAMING READER.
LIKE HEAR ME OUTTTT GURLLL
reader is like super spoiled by felix amd oliver ( as u should material gurl 💋 ) and she doesn’t take ‘ no ‘ for an answer.
one day she’s acting bratty towards felix bcs he doesn’t wanna buy her a new bag ( cuz u got so many queen 🙁 ) she says rude stuff to him and felix gets fed up with it and calls ollie to tell what u said
ur in BIG trouble miss girl.
you and felix get home and oliver is already waiting for u guys in the bedroom
when u enter the bedroom oliver starts by teasing u with asking u questios and was it okay to be so mean to ur daddy no.1 after all the things he buys and does for u
anywhooo..
ur still bratty and start giving sass to oliver too but my man ain’t havin it 😞
daddy no.2 MANHANDLES u on the bed and starts spanking u, while daddy no.1 is preparing other stuff ( belts, toys etc. )
girl.. ur fucked upppppp
literally 💀
GIRLLL I wish I had more time and brain space to write right now because!! this is so hot!!
I literally just came back from watching Priscilla so this is immensely fueled by me swooning when Jacob Elordi asked if is she was ‘going to be a good girl’ 👀
BUT since you’re probably a rich kid like Felix, you’re not used to being told no. So when it does eventually happen, you get super pissy about it; back talking, refusing to join in on activities, pulling away from his touches. And above everything , Felix is a tactile boy — he doesn’t handle not having your affection well AT ALL.
Thank fuck you two have Oliver to fix things — even if his way of fixing things includes your ass being smacked red and a pair of handcuffs tying you to the bed.
“Daddy expected better of you,” Oliver would tell you in between smacks, “are you going to show me how good of a girl you can be for us? Are you going to apologize?”.
You’d be a sobbing mess, eyes teary as you stare at Felix who’s seated on the other side of the room, nursing a drink as he watches Oliver break you. Just as you think he’s going to let up on you (giving you the sweet aftercare you crave so badly) Felix gets up from his seat. You know you’re in big BIG trouble when he grabs the hitachi wand and the pair of fluffy pink handcuffs you’d been given as a gag-gift a few birthdays ago.
You’re about to have a looooong night…
(I might expand on this soon if I remember to!!)
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leclercstarrs · 3 months
Text
oliver and felix sharing you ; mdni.
being caught in between the affections of oliver and felix is nothing new to you.
you’re not, in your words, ‘tied down’ by anyone. when oliver first met you, this was clear by the way you’d flirt with him throughout the night despite having been practically eye fucking felix and having his arm wrapped around your waist earlier. that all led to your current arrangement with the two boys. one night, you’re spending the night in felix’s dorm, letting him fuck you senseless. the next night, or sometimes even later on the same night, you let oliver do the same.
when you end up in oliver’s bed, he takes notice of the new and shiny necklace displayed in the valley between your tits, something he obviously didn’t get you. it’s clear it’s from felix, a way of him discreetly claiming you instead of oliver. the necklace only motivates him, however, which ends up with the side of your face being pressed into a pillow, oliver fucking you into the mattress, clicking his tongue as he carefully grabs at your necklace and runs a finger along the charm on it. “felix got you this, hm?”
the next time you get naked in front of felix, which isn’t too long after, he’s met with the sight of multiple hickies and marks decorating your body.
the cycle continues back and forth with both boys hoping to win you over and have you to themselves.
after all, the two of them have never been that good at sharing.
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sincerelyverena · 3 months
Text
⟡⁺ PUPPY PRINCESS
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. . . OLIVER QUICK X FELIX CATTON X FEM!READER ‘you know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend.’ @watercolorskyy
inbox is always open to requests!
in whichꕀ
✦ ﹒as felix's girlfriend, you've never had a longing for anyone else. except oliver. you bring up the idea of the two of you fucking the meeker male, and surprisingly, felix complies.
tagsꕀ
✦ ﹒smut ﹐threesome ﹐sub!oliver ﹐dom!felix ﹐reader and felix are an established pairing ﹐reader is a freak﹐reader treating oliver like the princess he is ﹐mainly focused on reader and oliver﹐felix is the core of the pairing ﹐mutual pining ﹐public sex﹐pussy worship ﹐tongue-fucking ﹐anal ﹐pet names ﹐implied aftercare
THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @sparklehani ﹐@vikwrites
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Oliver Quick. Your kryptonite. 
Feeble Oliver from Oxford, who would’ve guessed? Over the fragile rim of the porcelain tea cup pressed to your lips, you scrutinized an oblivious Oliver. A particular aura radiated off of him, a glow you had never encountered from your brief acquaintance on campus. 
Was it attractive? Immensely.
You adverted your attention off Oliver as a skyscraper-remanent individual bounded through the doorway. A chorus of greetings rose in the air at the sight of Felix Catton, the contagious energy you esteem to be your boyfriend of six months. The manicured length of your nails tapped along your fragile teacup as Felix made a beeline straight to the vacant seat beside you.
“I told you to go easy with the wine, Fi.” You scolded him playfully, reaching upward to draw your thumbs across the thin, darkened areas illustrating Felix’s under-eyes.
The molten brown of Felix’s eyes twinkle mischievously. “I drank it like any other bottle of alcohol you offered me.”
You inclined your head upwards, heart giving an absentminded flutter as you felt the warmth of his lips encaptured your own. It was more of a peck, rather than a kiss but the searing heat you reciprocated was a welcoming sensation nevertheless.
“Wine makes you sleepy though.”
Felix responded with a joking grumble and a hand to the inner mound of your thigh. The corners of your lips quirk up endearingly. 
As you drew your attention to the lukewarm cup of tea perched before you, you caught sight of Oliver. More specifically, how the coolness of his ocean-dripping eyes bored into you. The fashion in which the thick lashes lined his eyes, which fluttered innocently. How the aquamarine speckles of his hues flickered towards Felix, who rubbed absentminded circles into the base of your thigh. A heat circulated in his surveying gaze, a heat that directly arrowed toward your abdomen. Pooling, molten warmth that dripped down the sleight of your back and ran under your skin.
The edge of your tongue flickers over your suddenly dry lips. All you can think about. All you can even render is the idea of Felix’s girth straining against Oliver’s heat. His best friend’s head smuggled between your thighs.
The scandalous nature of these images protrudes your thoughts for the rest of the day. The heat that resulted followed you to the point where you were aware of how your arousal soaked a patch through your thong.
As the hours ticked by, the horizon continuously darkened. Ridding the atmosphere from the rays of sun illuminance. The sky is painted in a fluid darkness. Stars scattered the canvas of twilight, an immense contrast against the crystal-clear waters of the estate rivers. Shadows chased each other across Saltburn, like spirits, discovered in every untouched crook and crevice. The ideal scenery for the night swim Felix had prompted you and the three others into.
Farleigh and Venetia had made an early exit a few minutes prior, tired eyes proclaiming a desire for their beds. This left you and Felix, the two of you sprawled upon inclined lounges by one of the various lakes tucked into the estate yards. Oliver, on the other hand, drifts across the deep, clear waters that rippled around his physique. Revealing a stomach that caused the ache haunting the space between your thighs to intensify in nature. 
Your horny, dazed nature had returned.
“You’re thinking hard right now, aren’t you?” Felix prompted, a soft tinge prominent in his tone. His head inclined, and the roundness of his eyes bored immensely into you. Served as a signal that he had been watching you for some time.
You lolled your head back against the lounge chair behind you. Your gaze had prominently latched onto every singular droplet of water that rolled off of the muscles that rippled throughout Oliver’s silhouette.
Your next words escaped you bluntly. “I want us to fuck him.”
“Never knew you were interested in Oliver like that.”
“I have no damn clue what happened to him since Oxford but…”
You didn’t have to complete your sentence as you sucked in a sharp breath, finally tearing your eyes away from him completely to meet the darkness of Felix’s gaze.
“Whatever makes my princess happy.” Felix complied without missing a beat.
Felix was brisk to inch towards you, leaning over the slight bridge of a gap between the both of you. The lushness of his lips met the crevice of your neck, burying himself into you. Drowning him in the fragrance that practically dripped off of you. The soft motions of his lips intensified the roar of want dripping from your womanhood. You choked back a strangled gasp as the long frame of Felix’s fingers slipped underneath the scarce fabric of your bikini bottoms. Digits rolling to explore the gushing wetness that circulated between your folds.
“Ollie!” Felix's voice rang over his shoulder, blissfully ignorant to the fashion in which you buckled upwards for a hitch of friction.
In the hue of his loudness, Oliver’s head popped upwards from his current floating state. If you weren’t overwhelmed by the heat that sparked from each skim of Felix’s fingers, you’d let out a good-hearted chuckle at how wide-eyed Oliver looked at this moment.
“Yeah?”
“Come and help my girl out, would you?”
Oliver sauntered toward you with an indescribable emotion playing in his doe remanent eyes. His expression refused to falter, not even in the slightest as his gaze adverted toward the sight of Felix teasing your heat.
Virtually, you were on the edge of release as soon as you witnessed how Oliver dropped to his knees in front of you. Felix refused to remove his hand, even as Oliver shoved the fabric of your bikini bottoms aside to reveal your wetness. 
You murmured a wordless prayer to whatever god reigned above as Oliver released a low whistle, the base of his tongue wetting his lips as he took in the altar you presented before him.
“We don’t have all day, Ollie.” Felix drawled onwards, the base of his forefinger continuing to prod the throbbing pearl lining your entrance.
Oliver obeyed, leaned forward, and licked a harsh swipe of saliva across your heat. Your back involuntarily arched at the sensation that followed, prompting the man before you to virtually submit himself to you. Head between your legs, just as you imagined the hours prior. 
“Does that feel good, baby?” Felix murmured into the husk of your ear.
A barely incomprehensible response escaped the edge of your lips. The combination of Oliver working his mouth between your folds and Felix’s soothing motions across the nub of your clit resulted in hot, heavy sparks of pleasure building up at the base of your spine. 
You buckled your hips upwards, practically on the verge of face-fucking Oliver. “Oh, my fucking…” 
“[Y/N]...” Oliver murmured into your heat, the vibrations rooted from his mumbled words arrowed straight to your pooling core. The hand that wasn’t on the verge of tearing off your bikini bottoms completely clawed around the base of your thigh, drawing himself closer.
As if your body was a temple, and you were a goddess.
The length of your legs draped over the bareness of his back, the sensations of his muscles rippling with effort felt throughout your calves. The cool, wet skin of his shoulders pressed against you was a feeling beyond words.
Your orgasm began to trickle in with a singular stuffing of Oliver’s tongue. A cry rips itself from your throat, writhing with each pump. 
“Ollie– Christ, right there baby…” 
Saliva gradually begins to roll down the base of Oliver’s chin with effort, peering up at you with those fucking eyes as he continues to pound your wetness. With a few more ruts of his tongue, you came undone underneath his mouth. A strangled cry escapes you involuntarily, vision blurring momentarily as shockwaves grapple your entire being.
The force of your words escaped you in slight breaths. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that, Ollie?”
“Well…” Oliver’s cheeks flushed before he continued to lick up every last drop of your release, stimulating your throbbing heat once again.
You slumped back into the frame of the lounge chair underneath you. Amid your post-peak haze, the choked noises of Felix’s heavy breathing cut through the air like a knife. You hadn’t even noticed he had removed his hand in the first place. Through the corner of your heavy-lidded eyes, you spied Felix, palming himself through his swimming trunks' thin, flimsy material. 
“Fuck… Ollie, get to your feet.” Felix mustered in between strained words, managing to hold a reign of command over the young man planted before you.
The lounge chair squeaked beneath you with a strain of effort as you prop yourself up on the bridge of your elbows. A slight smirk gradually threatened the corner of your lips as you watched Felix stalk towards Oliver, step-by-step, inch-by-inch. All whilst teasing the waistband of his summer shorts. 
Felix’s taller statue practically leered downward at the shorter male like a beast, a predator to his prey. The broadness of his body strained against the muscles lining Oliver’s back. The harsh ripple of Felix’s swimming trunks being discarded sounded throughout the otherwise quiet atmosphere, accompanied by the short whimper that reverberated from Oliver at the mere concept of Felix pressing himself against him.
The broadened surface of Felix’s fingers fiddled with the top of Oliver’s summer shorts. The commanding hues of his voice corresponded with the thin rustle of fabric. “Do you want to fuck my pretty baby right here, Ollie?”
The azure speckles that lined Oliver’s eyes virtually burned into you with the intensity of his stare. As you sprawled out upon the lounge chair right in his proximity, your bikini brief dangled loosely upon the rim of your ankles. Presenting yourself to him in the process.
Oliver managed to muster a nod. “I would be honored.” His voice sounded strained with arousal, no doubt.
With a lack of warning, Felix lowered Oliver’s trunks until his erection escaped without struggle. There wasn’t any question about how undeniably hard he was, especially when Felix pressed into him. 
With a signature rip of foil, the male who stood over you began to attempt to line himself up with the slickness of your heat. A soft gasp, brimmed with desperation, reverberated from Oliver as Felix continued to tease his hole. Oliver wrung his palms around the arms of the lounge chair you possessed, making it easier for Felix to push into Oliver with a singular thrust and a line of saliva. 
Oliver’s breaths picked up the pace as Felix began to work his heat further. His eyes grew a tad glossier at the immense discomfort brewing in his tight hole. 
“Felix…”
“Don’t keep my princess waiting now.” Felix exaggerated the intensity of his words with a simple grinding motion of his hips against Oliver’s own.
Oliver’s breath had noticeably caught in the hollow of his throat. He obeyed though, wordlessly. Was it the harsh hues of Felix’s demanding words? Or the fashion in which Felix gradually thrusts in and out of Oliver’s heat, teasing his hole further. Encouragement. If you will.
Oliver’s girth buried itself into your willing cunt, inch by inch until his cock had disappeared fully into your body. Your lips parted absentmindedly at the remote concept of his size. Molten heat pooled throughout your abdomen at the sight of Oliver towering over you, puffing out a strained breath as Felix quickened his pace behind him.
Eyes half-lidded and cheeks flushed, Oliver began shifting his hips. A smooth tempo of his thrusts stimulates your inner walls, resulting in a slight moan reverberating from you. Felix’s eyes notably shift into something else entirely at the sound, his girth rutting Oliver with a spark of intensity.
“Wasn’t that hard, was it, Ollie?” Felix drawled onwards, a hint of teasing prominent as he slammed himself deeper into Oliver’s heat. The hue of Oliver’s whimpers fell upon deaf ears as Felix continued to draw out his words. “So good for us.”
The double doses of pleasure resulted in the heated flush of Oliver’s cheeks creeping down his neck. The sensual pace of his lips grew deeper, a tad sloppier as Oliver’s back involuntarily arched in protest. “This… is– fuck, Felix…”
“You can do this, baby.” You purred amid tangent breaths, peering upward at Oliver with a pair of lust-drenched eyes. Capable of causing Oliver to peak right there, right then. “Mmm… I’ll help ya’ out.”
Oliver couldn’t have gotten a word in at all before you draped the length of your legs across his bare waist. His hips inclined closer to you in the process, your pelvis tilted upward to allow the flushed male to pound into areas you never thought were possible.
“Christ, [Y/N]... [Y/N].”
The dirty sound of your name on his lips like a prayer, accompanied by the hot, searing pleasure burning through you caused your release to threaten you. Building up along your spine. Threatened to unleash with every buckle of Oliver’s hips, searing into you.
“She’s good at this, ain’t she, Ollie?” Felix taunted light-heartedly, broadened palms clutching along the bone of Oliver’s hips. Grinding him backward into his cock, still jacking away into his hole.
The newfound sensation brought a strangled gasp to rip out of Oliver’s throat, eyes slammed closed momentarily. “So… fucking tight.”
A soft chuckle bore Felix, hips striking ass as the roll of his girth grew to a brutal pace. Soft grunts of delight escaped Oliver, but his poundings grew sloppier and sloppier – signaling how close he was. 
The lack of attention upon your wetness made you groan absentmindedly. “Ollie, you… fucking prick.”
Heat convulsing with a need to peak, you drew Oliver further back into you via his hips. His girth struck a key sensitivity within you, once. Twice. Thrice. Until the tension that built up within you dissolved into mere pleasure, virtually seeing stars as Oliver’s name played upon your lips like a prayer to the Gods.
By the time you returned to reality, Oliver wrothe at his peak. His hips had jerked, spilling every drop of his release into the rubbery goodness rolled over his tip. Felix had followed shortly afterward, the toned nature of his silhouette glistening with newfound sweat. His pleasure-laced groans sliced the air as he proceeded to flood himself into Oliver. Felix reached upward, palm curled around the hollow of his throat and inclining his head backward as he rode out his orgasm.
“That’s it, Ollie. So good for me.”
In the midst of you catching your breath, you witnessed Oliver bathed in the light of Felix’s praise. Mouth agape. Azure eyes speckled with nothing but absolute pride. Eventually, Felix released Oliver, leaving a blooming red mark illustrating the crook of his neck in his wake. The silence drew on momentarily as the males managed to catch their breath.
“You never answered my question, Ollie.” You prompted after a few beats, leaned over to pull your bikini briefs over your hips once more. “Where did you learn how to do that?”
“[Y/N]...” Oliver started, yet failed to finish as his cheeks flushed with adoration.
“Slow down on the investigations, doll.” Felix chimed in, his once dominant exterior melted down into the playful guy we all had known to love. He clasped Oliver on the shoulder, so casually, that you wouldn’t have guessed he was inside him a few minutes prior. “I think our dear Ollie has had enough for one day.”
You gave a teasing roll of your eyes but didn't press onward. Instead, you extended your arms out in a singular grand motion. “C’mere then, both of you.”
As the two males tucked themself into the base of your shoulders, you realized that they would do everything for you. 
And you would do anything for them.
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WORD COUNT: 2K MASTERLIST REQ ME!
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