#salt burn x reader

[holyghostbelle]

Call the shots part two

Oliver quick x fem!reader

TW:DUBCON? DARK!OLIVER(it's literally him though so idk)slight reader x felix, but also oliver pinning over felix because no ones mentioning that??? reader and Oliver lowkey hate each other I guess, SMUT, ORAL(fem) (a/n, Thank you!!! thank you so much for the attention the last part received, I haven't written in forever and ever and salt burn just reeled me in like a fish. there's going to hopefully be a third part to this to end the lil series,/// wish men actually kissed like this gif 😔)

if you haven't read the first part to this click here!

my master list

The first time you had met Felix Catton you were eight, your first summer at the Saltburn estate and after meeting Venetia at an all girls private school you had been introduced to her older brother by one year. Felix was mesmerising, he was like a prophet, everyone loved him, and you felt yourself fall in love with him deeply, of course at first Venetia hated it, you were hers, you belonged to her. But years after spending summers while your own family spent summers in Venice and Paris for business you had become Felixs as well. No jealousy had become between either of them. You had lost your virginity to him, smoked your first cigarette with him, your first line of coke, your first shot. All of your firsts and now. 

None of your lasts.

The air was heavy with grief as the Cattons to give the farewell to their beloved. Tear-streaked faces and her eyes swollen, Elsebeth stands stoically, hands gripped with Venetias. The service wasn't beautiful, but nothing could live up to Felix.

You stand opposite Oliver, his face crumpled, gripping the white handkerchief from dinners ago. The room echoes with muted sobs, you stand in disbelief, the last you had seen Felix his gold wings loomed over you, and now they hung from his bed untouched.

His grave now laying in the estates graveyard, six feet under with people who he hadn't met, you run you hand over the temporary wooden cross, his bracelets hanging from the oak, you taste the tears on your cheeks and Venetia clutches at your arm, mascara running over her cheeks, just like yours.

It's raining and the Cattons and you throw Felix's rock in the river before returning to the house. Oliver stays behind and returns with muddy knees, his shirt see through. When Venetia excuses herself to her room that night, you find yourself wandering saltburn in the dark with a glass of deep red wine in your hand, all you can think about is Felix's swollen blue face lying in a pile of puke. There was no beauty in his death. 

Clad in a white night gown and Felix's jumper you find your self in his room.

It suffocates you with the smell of cigarettes and cologne. the smell of Felix prevalent in his sheets comforts you. closing your eyes you begin to believe he's still there.

Suddenly you hear a sloshing of water. Deciding that Oliver must be taking a bath you think to yourself, a few minutes go past and Oliver enters the room. He's clad in blue boxers and a red robe, you can hardly remember the timid boy with frameless glasses at the beginning of summer. Silently, you observe Oliver as he moves with a heaviness in his step.

“What are you doing in here?” you ask, you smooth down the covers with your hand, rings catching on a bare thread, the duvet is lumpy and you assume it's from the socks Felix would shed off in his sleep.

“I should ask you the same thing” He questions back.

“Felix was mine first, I saw you crying at the funeral. Like you had known him for years and it's been six months, pathetic really."

You stare at him as he bends to meet with you at eye level, he leans on to his knees with his hands as you turn from his glare. He feels the heat radiate from your cheeks. They're wet, his hand meets your face wiping the salty tears with the back of his hand, rough against your skin.

“Stop it, Stop it Oliver” you cry, your hand meets the small of his wrist pushing it away from your face. They fall to your lap, your gaze following.

And suddenly “Apologise to me” he orders, his thick fingers grip at your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You stare through your lashes, one eyebrow raised at him. 

“what? Sorry for what?” you question, your head tilts, hair following.

“Say sorry for being such a bitch to me, such a bad girl” he coos. His other hand stroking at the wetness of your face. 

And you whimper at him. It's so delicious, he feels himself harden.

His eyes darken, pulling his hand back. You begin to think he's going to leave but your face is smacked to the left. Heat rushing to your cheek. 

“ow, what the fuck Oliver” you clutch at it.

“I said apologise, tell me your so sorry for being a rude brat this summer, make me believe it”

“You're joking,” your eyes widen.

He grips at your chin again,you think it might bruise this time, and as your eyes meet you feel something you haven't felt in forever, fear. Your heart thumps against your chest.

“I'm so sorry that you think i’ve been a bitch to you this summer Oliver,” your chest heaves. Teeth gritting at him. 

Oliver, however, doesn't seem satisfied; his grip on your chin loosens only to be replaced by a vice-like hold on your hair.The room feels like a confined space, trapping you in a twisted dance.

“Again” he commands with venom. You feel the grip on your hair tighten and you are pulled back in submission, reminded of the bruise on your arm from him.

You hiss at him as he holds your head up by your hair. “ I'm sorry!” you sigh “im sorry ive been a rude bratty bitch, i'm really sorry” you comply and his hand once cruelly knotted in your hair loosens.

His head cocks to the side, cooing at your disgruntled face “ Got there in the end didn't we?” he smiles looking down upon the soft of your faces, smoothing your hair down.

You nod at him quickly, and your body stills, eyes flickering down, you refuse to hold gaze with him. He still stands above you. 

Lips trembling you stutter,“Venetia was right.” 

“Huh?” he interrogates, eyebrows rising, intriguing him.

"You really can make people do whatever you want," you murmur, a bitter realisation lingering in your words, the taste of  imbalance still fresh on your tongue. Oliver smirks, a perverse satisfaction radiates from his gaze upon your body. You squirm underneath him.

"Then kiss me," he commands, his tone laced with an arrogant confidence that sends shivers down your spine. It hangs in the air, an unspoken challenge that demands submission. He bends to meet you once again.

You push your morals aside. Leaning in and allowing your lips to meet his in a forced union. His hand cups around your neck and tightens as you murmur against his grip. He parts your knees with his own. The oak bed frame digging into the flesh of your thigh as he runs his cold hand against it. 

“Fuck” he grunts. Your breath catches as Oliver's grip tightens around your throat. In that moment, something shifts, and his lips crash onto yours. Oliver's lips mold against yours; it's cruel and leaves you breathless, but it's too harsh to feel like Felix, and the breathlessness makes you panic, not giddy. Oliver is every bit harsher than Felix and it reminds you of how fleeting of a memory he will be. His weight presses into you as you paw at his chest, mewling against him you breath against each other in open mouthed kisses , he licks up into your mouth, thumb pulling your bottom lip down and watching it bounce back in satisfaction he smirks as he peers down on your body hand gripping at your thighs you whine.

He pushes your white silk nightgown up over your hips revealing your pussy,  smiling to himself and dips a finger in your wetness.

‘Hate me and yet you're soaked’ he grins up to you, his cheeks just at your knees, eyes looking so sweet.

He bites and sucks into the succulent flesh of your thighs, you gasp as his lips meet your cunt and indulges himself in you. You mewl your juices dribbling down his chin and creating a wet trail on his face.

“Fucking slut, could Felix make you come?”he questions. 

You nod at him.

“how sweet, too bad ill fucking ruin him for you” his hands traces at your thighs wandering up to your hips,

“Actin’ all innocent under me now, i know what girls like you are like ,your a fucking tease is what you are”

He dives in once again and your hand grips at his hair, it's gotten longer. He's every bit rougher than Felix, choosing to pinch and suck rather than kiss. You gasp and whimper as he eats you like his last meal, hands tightening on his hair. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you moan, he smirks under your hold, hands grasping at your hips to pull you towards him, you hump at his face and he drinks you up like nectar, feeling the pressure build.

“Mmm, close Oli” you whine.

He goes everybit harder and faster than before, and you feel the pressure snap, you convulse under him. Moaning and overstimulated, you whimper as he laps you up.

 His head leaning against your thigh, he looks up at you, bright blue eyes smiling up at you. Realisation settles in.

"You alright?” he strokes the length of your arm. 

You look away from him, biting down on your lip before slipping the covers over your body, now cold in the ridiculously big house, he joins you in Felix's bed.

“yeah, no, I'm fine.” you smile at him. Laying down and turning your body away, you feel his hands snake around your waist, you close your eyes, you feel so dirty.

Guilt pools in your stomach.

The light filters through the dark curtains, a curse of being south facing. Oliver lies there cocking his head, you pull on the red robe, smoothing back your hair. as you scurry to the bathroom to wash your face. Hand on the golden door knob you hear something smashing to the marble floor. Your eyebrows furrow, the door swings open and the maid in front of you releases a guttural scream, the bathroom floor is filled with murky red water and your eyes meet hers. Venatias head floating out of the bath, her blood spilling over the bath. You fall backwards, hand clutching over your mouth, Oliver peeks his head round the corner, his eyes widened. You push the door closed. 

Eyes flickering to the floor. You swallow. “I think you should go back to your room Oliver.” your hand reaches out for his arm, “ i think it's best i tell Elsebeth”

He nods,you choke back tears. Flapping your hands over your face before calling an ambulance.

Oliver is gone, he left in the morning shortly after Venetias funeral, you assume James had paid him off. 

You pack your things, one week of summer left and then oxford university, you look into the room adjoining yours. Venetias, she won't be coming to Oxford with you and neither will Felix, you begin to wonder if you'll see Oliver and how best to avoid him, not wanting to get into the complications of things, hoping you would never run into him.

When your luggage is piled up by the main door, Elsebeth and James stand next to you, smiling. 

“You will join us for the ski trip this winter won't you, dear?”

You smile at her, head nodding “ Mum and Dad said they would be coming, i think it would be best if we all spend christmas together” 

James nods at you, “maybe we could share the chateau with you, there's loads of rooms” 

You smile “of course, i'll let them know, thank you for this summer, amid everything it was lovely” you hand clasps around Elsbeth's shoulder, but she pulls you in for a quick hug, James taking to patting you back. 

“Well, I'll message you how I get on at oxford. Gosh ten years have flown by havent they?”you laugh, eyes watering. “Well goodbye, I'll see you christmas.”

the next part

@callsignwidow (comment to be added to taglist)

#oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #salt burn 2023 #salt burn fic #saltburn 2023 #salt burn x reader #felix catton #barry keoghan #jacob elordi

[backtothefanfiction]

SUMMERS AT SALTBURN IDEA...

I have had another Summers at Saltburn story idea, based around Daisy's birthday party. A Princes and Princesses scavenger hunt game around the house as the central entertainment of the party. It's masquerade and everyone has a partner and a call and response phrase to match up. The gentlemen scan the house for the awaiting maidens, trying their phrase until they get the correct response. As birthday girl, Daisy is hidden at the centre of the maze for Felix to find. There may or may not also be some smut, but I haven't had the time to sit and write it properly yet. But I needed to say something as the thought has been killing me.

#felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #summers at saltburn #salt burn x reader #fix x daisy

[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall

Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕

Part 2

21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.

You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.

Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.

‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.

‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.

‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.

‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.

Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.

You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.

Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.

Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.

‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.

2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.

The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.

‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.

‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.

‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.

‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.

‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.

‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.

‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.

‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.

‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.

He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.

‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.

It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.

You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?

Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.

These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.

‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.

His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.

‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.

Part 2

Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359

#oliver quick #oliver quick smut #barry keoghan #salt burn #saltburn #barry keoghan smut #druig x female reader #druig x y/n #druig smut #druig x reader #druig imagine #druig fanfiction #Barry keogan x reader #saltburn smut #saltburn fanfiction #michael gavey smut #oliver quick fanfic #felix catton #jacob elordi #farleigh start

[brittle-doughie]

The beasts, sealed away, punching the air while Y/N cookie accepts Elder Faerie’s proposal and the wedding after.

Today is not a good day for the Beasts

You tell him that you do. That you wished to be married to him, now and forever.

The faerie priest asks if Elder Faerie Cookie will do the same.

“I do. Truly, I want nothing more then to be by your side, through the darkest of hours and the brightest of peaks. You, the wonderful cookie who helped saved the Silver Kingdom. And me, the guardian of the silver tree. Together, we may watch over this land as King and King/Queen.”

Shadow Milk Cookie is seething. Hell, all of the Beasts were as they watched from their prisons.

“HOW?! MY PLAN WAS PERFECT! HE…ALL OF THEM WERE SUPPOSED TO LOSE!”

Red Spice Cookie, from within their prison, is trying with all his might to break free. Rage is all he could feel, it feels like his own dough is burning from the sight…

Mystic Flour Cookie sighed solemnly. It looked like Shadow Milk Cookie had failed to convert you fully, a shame that you saw significance in these lesser cookies. Why settle for less? It was beneath a cookie like you.

Cut them all down. That was the plan Silent Salt could conjure up in their head. Destroy every single cookie in their way, reduce them to bits. Remind them why there can only be few cookies that could protect you and it would certainly not be Elder Faerie Cookie…

The other Beasts should be lucky they don’t share a prison with Eternal Sugar Cookie, who’s currently in emotional agony as she struggles to brute force her way out of her prison. She has to watch the brightest light she’s seen getting married right before her eyes. It made her want nothing more then to BURN THE WHOLE KINGDOM DOWN weep into her hands, unable to think of anything else but to MUTILATE ALL OF THEM think of you and what could’ve been…

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #burning spice cookie #red spice cookie x reader #eternal sugar cookie x reader #yandere eternal sugar cookie #mystic flour cookie x reader #silent salt cookie x reader

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Six becomes Five

Inspired by @brittle-doughie and his few works about the 5 Beasts! The ones were the reader being a part of their group caught my eye, so have this!

Part 1

You were Compassion, brilliant, and beautiful. You aided the Cookies in their times of need, when they needed you most. Helping them up to their feet, using your powers to heal them, to soothe arguments. Your friends were once like that too.

Shadow Milk Cookie loved to put on plays for the Cookies, and have them join in. He'd always give you one of the main parts alongside him. It was only fair!

Burning Spice Cookie was always so valiant in defending them, with Silent Salt Cookie by his side. The two were nigh unstoppable, and with you near to always heal any wounds, they really were.

Eternal Sugar Cookie would often join you in aiding the common Cookies, always lounging on her cloud. She always made a spot for you, though. Mystic Flour Cookie would tag along too, going on and on about things seen. It always made you smile.

Until.. something changed.

You didn't notice it at first. It was subtle things, especially whenever you weren't around. Being cruel and hateful towards the Cookies, seeing them as lesser. For not having the power baked and blessed into you six.

You only saw it all too late when your comrades gleefully recounted all that they had done during one of your meetup sessions. You were briefly in shock before shakily congratulating them. You didn't want to anger them. You couldn't take all five of them at once in a fight..

However, you didn't need to wait long. Your Creators, the Witches, soon saw this and upon seeing you untouched by greed and corruption, asked for you help.

Mournfully, you agreed.

You called them all to the spot, saying you had a dance you wanted to show them. A special one, just for their eyes. It was difficult getting them in the exact spots, but once you did..

The Forks fell, trapping them one by one. You continued your dance until the sapling of the Silver Tree was planted, where you then bowed to them.

None of them could understand. Why would you betray them?

Why were you walking away?!

"COME BACK, YOU CAN'T LEAVE!"

For so long following that fateful day, you tried to stay there in Beast-Yeast, but it wasn't possible. Many of the remaining Cookies, that were the Faeire Cookies, couldn't bare to live there any longer.

So you said a mournful goodbye, and led the Cookies that wanted a new home to a new home. Crispia, you decided it would be called. Once many Cookies began to settle, you turned and left. You couldn't bare the thought of becoming like one of the Beasts, so you secluded yourself, changed yourself.

Your divine appearance, your name, everything. Once a Cookie representing Compassion, now you were a mere shadow of yourself. The only thing that stood constant was your Soul Jam, now a beautiful amulet around your neck instead of attached to your clothes.

It was the one thing you couldn't part with, no matter how hard you tried.

You rebuilt yourself. Made new friends, connections, loved ones.

Until the day came.

You had to return to that land to find White Lily Cookie. You didn't want to, but for the sake of the world, you had to.

Oh, it had all gone so terribly wrong. White Lily Cookie had awakened, you had your reunion with the Faeires, and then the Seal began to undo. Try as anyone might, it couldn't be resealed.

And from the rift.. came Shadow Milk Cookie.

Without a single thought, you put yourself between the group and him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but when he spotted you, his pupils went wide.

After so long of being trapped, hidden away by the seal and vines, Eternal Sugar Cookie's constant wailings about you being tricked, manipulated, or brainwashed had gotten to all the Beasts. It was the only explanation, it had to be.

And as Shadow Milk Cookie grins widely down at you, obession in his eyes, you swear to yourself.

You really shouldn't have come back to Beast-Yeast.

#yandere crk x reader #yandere crk #yandere cookie run kingdom x reader #yandere cookie run kingdom #cosmos constellations #yandere mystic flour cookie #yandere shadow milk cookie #yandere eternal sugar cookie #yandere silent salt cookie #series: six becomes five #yandere burning spice cookie

[djljpanda]

Imagine the fallen hero’s / The beast fighting for you attention

They all have respect for each other but when it comes down to you, you are their everything

They would try and one up each other by showing you their talents. They would take you with them as they made civilizations.

Would get really upset when your attention is off them. Might make faces to that cookie but when you turn back to them they look like the sweetest cookies.

Even when they all went to the dark side the obsession for you only grew as they can’t let you go. Their hearts would break you watched them get sealed away but they could never really hate you.

So if they ever do break out of the seals the first thing they will do is look for you, the love of their lives.

#cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run x you #cookie run kingdom #cookie run x reader #shadow milk cookie #eternal sugar cookie #silent salt cookie #burning spice cookie #mystic flour cookie #fallen hero’s #Crk fallen hero’s #Crk beast-yeast #cookie reader #imagine #cookie run imagine #crk x reader

[minty-drop]

Can I’m have a platonic request of the five beasts x child reader who is one of them who posses the virtue of innocence reader smile and cuteness always have bring happiness and joy to the five beasts but after they got corrupted the last thing they see his reader crying heartbroken asking them why before they get completely sealed after that reader virtue innocence turns into grief as they isolated themselves in beast yeast even after many years cries of a heartbroken child are still heard trough all beasts yeast headcanons

This request is so good wtf. Im in love with this big brain energy

The beasts x child reader

Tw: angst,

Type: platonic.as close as you can get to canon or theory of what is canonically accurate. Angst. Reader is gn

They all adored you, it being shown through many activities, words or actions throughout your time with them.

You were there pure, bright light of joy, an innocence that was refreshing from the unholy.

A child they could raise, a child they could keep, one that would not wither away from age or crumble in the hands of others.

Enteral sugars cloud was a misty yet comforting lounge for you and her to enjoy the breeze, taking sight and eyeing the wonders that graces earth-bread.

Burning spice, oh he’d never admit it, but he found it adorable when you would hang onto the halo that spun behind his dough while he sparred.

Mystic flour encouraged you to join her in walks through the mystical forest, taking joy in seeing you become fond with its beautiful wild life.

Silent salt spending those moments with care with you in silent while you slept peacefully by his side as he sharpened his blade, so careful not to wake you from your slumber.

Shadow milk, who would put on the greatest of great shows when you attended, keeping you in his sight at all times to hear your shouts of excitement and fits of giggles through the experience

A happy little bundle of joy, stuck cozy in between there arms that protected you from any harm that could come your way.

And when they turned sour, there were no more times to attend to you. They had gotten so tied up in there own mess of chaos, they never saw when you cried as mystic flour burned the forest to the ground, they never heard you beg shadow milk to stop hurting the cookies, they never heard or saw you. Only focusing on keeping you, not how you felt.

they regretted that when those twisted pitch forks came down on them from those witches. Seeing you crying in front of them hurt, but you crying because of them hurt..a lot

The beasts tried to speak to you before you were taken away from them, in there finally times in this era, they could only reach out, crying out for you to come back. Save them from this wicked end.

Grieving for hundreds, if not thousands of years, locking yourself away from the outside world in the hollow of beast yeast, waiting for the sickening torture to end.

#crk #crk x reader #cr kingdom #crk beast yeast #crk shadow milk cookie #crk eternal sugar #x reader #crk mystic flour #crk silent salt #crk burning spice #platonic #shadow milk cookie x reader

[starlight727]

One-way ticket to a Beast Cookie’s heart

How to get the Fallen Heroes to like you in an instant

Written by me cause I want to

Source: Trust me bro

One way to get the Beasts to like you is by showering them with constant attention. In this essay, I’ll be going through all the Beasts and how to befriend them.

Shadow Milk Cookie: He’s in the show business AND he’s silly, so basically just clap, laugh, smile, congratulate and appreciate him and he’ll follow you around like a lost puppy, coming up with ways to make you laugh cause you’re his favorite audience member. If you’re lucky, he might even call you his “Little Star” cause by then you’re the star of his show!

Eternal Sugar Cookie: Compliment her, flirt with her if you can, give her gifts from time to time and she’ll throw herself at you, giving you tight hugs and kisses, she might even invite you to sit on her cloud and sleep together.

Mystic Flour Cookie: Listen to her/them talk about the world and stuff, and you can tell her/them how much the world has changed since the Beasts were sealed. She/They will become interested in your knowledge of Earthbread and would like to know more about it. You can talk about your adventures and she/they’ll be sitting or floating next to you, listening carefully to every single word.

Silent Salt Cookie: He doesn’t talk much, so maybe what you could do is sit next to him and just have a normal conversation about anything, you can even offer to spar with him (hoping he doesn’t kill you in the process). If he ever does talk, you just sit back and listen, add your own comments whenever you can.

Burning Spice Cookie: YELLING COMPETITION!! He/They want to fight and call you a weakling, SAY YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT!! Let’s see how he/they react to your raw energy, let’s see if you’re as confident in your words as you are confident in BATTLE! Spar with him/them, compliment his/their ways of attacking and admire his/their pure strength, he/they’ll for sure want to see more of you and your wild side!

If it works, congratulations, you saved the world with the power of bullshitting your way out of trouble friendship/love (all that cheesy stuff you see in teen rom-coms and Disney Channel movies)! If it doesn’t, it was nice knowing you.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk and good luck!

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk #cr kingdom #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #eternal sugar cookie #eternal sugar crk #burning spice cookie #burning spice crk #silent salt cookie #silent salt crk #mystic flour cookie #mystic flour crk #crk x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cookie run kingdom x reader #mystic flour cookie x reader #beast yeast #crk beast yeast #crk fallen heroes #shadow milk cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #silent salt cookie x reader #eternal sugar cookie x reader

[somegirlontheinternet135]

Ok but, how cool would it be if there was a click & point adventure game and dating sim based around The Beasts

Like, imagine you, the player, woke up in a dark, unknown forest. You don't know how, or why, you got there, but one thing's for sure, you don't want to stay for long, who knows what kind of horrors could be lurking in the darkness. . ? Quickly you make use of the environment, gathering wood & making a fire (via a minigame) in hopes it'll alert some cookies to your location, and while it doesn't work at first, it does give a certain someone, or something, a beacon to your location. . .

As you sit before the fire you just built, you begin to notice something was off. . . the forest you were in, it was quiet, eerily quiet, normally at night, many forest would be bustling with some sort of life: the sounds of night beasts, owls in the night, maybe the occasional cricket, but there was nothing. What only adds to this uncanny wood were its lack of creatures, not once did you encounter any sort of beasts on your journey. . . both these factors alone made you question what was really happening, is this all a dream? were you going crazy? questions were racing through your head, till finally, something snaps you out of it. . .

"Ooooooh!~ What do we have here?~"

"Has a little cookie come by to give me a visit?~"

A voice from the darkness pulls you out of your thoughts, jolting you onto your feet. Hearing that so suddenly within such a vacant space, you could've sworn you were alone. . ! You frantically look around, desperately trying to find the source of the voice, but the thing only laughs at you. . .

"W-Who's there?! show yourself!!"

"*Ehehe he he he HE HE HE HE!*"

"Try looking up here, darling~"

Your attention was slowly drawn to a tree behind you. On one of the branches, two heterochrome eyes staired at your from below, taking you off-guard, was that. . . a cookie? The creature made zero attempts to hide themselves as he jumps off the tree branch, over your fire. Light from the flames revealed their figure, they appeared to be some sort of jester, its figure & face making them resemble that of a cat. They do a bow before finally introducing themselves

"Shadow Milk Cookie, the world's favorite trickster~"

"Pleasure to meet you!"

In this scenario, the player is given two options, each of course having a different outcome:

Run Away

Sprinting away in fear will, of course, cause Shadow Milk to chase, eventually getting caught, though this does increase his interest in you

"*heh he he HE HE HE!* where are you going you silly little thing?!~"

"That was so much fun!~ I think I'm starting to like you already!~"

Standing Your Ground & Ask Questions

Respectably, you don't anything regarding the fallen heroes, but asking more questions does leave Shadow Milk upset

"H-How could you not know who I am?!"

"Shadow Milk Cookie, actor, playwright, dictator, does that not right a bell?!"

This's basically how the story starts. The player is isekaied into this strange world and are quickly met with the Fallen Heroes, who all woo the player with their charm & status in an attempt to find out how they got in, so they can do the same to get out. . . whatever that means. But one thing leads to another, and they all fall in love with the player, fighting over them. As for the player, they transverse through the strange world, learning of it and its secrets via minigames, hidden secrets, and puzzles, all while learning about the fallen heroes and their backstories. . .

I picture the game itself being a mix between one of those disturbing click & point adventure games (i.e. Sally Face, Fran Bow, and Little Misfortune) and a dating sim (i.e. Obey Me) which by itself, would cause major emotional whiplash, cause imagine going from seeing the most messed up sh*t to smooching your jester bf. For reference, think of the game as "Little Goody Two Shoes" something you should play btw!

#shadow milk cookie #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #i don't normally do “x reader” stuff but this's been swimming in my head for a while #cookie run kingdom x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #slient salt cookie #mystic flour cookie #burning spice cookie #slient salt cookie x reader #enteral sugar cookie #enteral sugar cookie x reader #mystic flour cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader

[cookierunauprompts]

Maybe another siren shadow milk post? On reader cookie and siren S.Ms relationship and what shenanigans they get up to?

Like, Reader Cookie would be sailing and out of nowhere shadow milk jumps in like "Whats up bbg?" And they talk?

Not doing a prompt for this one but this gives me an excuse to ramble about the lore of the Beast Hunters AU!! Starting off with Shadow Milk and Reader's relationship.

Their relationship is rather... hm, I'd say complicated? For one, they're bound together by their contract. But on the other hand... well, Shadow Milk has kept Reader safe from more than just the Licorice Sea, hell, maybe he's even fallen in love with his little Songbird. As for Reader's feelings? Well, they consider him to be their closest companion in some kind of way.

Now, onto World building! ahem...

Long ago, monsters roamed and ruled over the Dessert world, terrorizing Cookies and the like... That was, until five Cookies with great power were baked into existence by the witches. These Heroes wielded a great power baked into the Soul Jam that they wielded, but as always... Great Power begets corruption.

One by one, the heroes succumbed to and fused with the darkness within the Soul Jam. No longer were they cookies, but beasts. The lights that remained from the remnants of the Soul Jam quickly split off back to the Witches, who then commanded them to find new heroes to defend against the beasts.

And so, the Lights did. They found new Heroes, and thus the Great Beast War began... And by the end of it, the Legendary Beasts were sealed away. But, something happened to the Heroes as well. In order to gain the upper hand during the war, they had fused with their lights.

Now more like spiritual protectors, they guided their newly formed kingdoms and territories as if they were kings and queens. Some of them were more present in the lives of their cookies, while others took a more observant and guiding role.

But just a few decades later or so, the seal upon the Legendary Beasts weakened... Allowing them to escape back into the Dessert World to reek havoc once more. Seeing this, the heroes set out to find a new set of saviors for cookie kind... Most of them, anyways.

So far, only two of the five have selected heroes...

At least they have friends to help them with their journey, right?

( In case you're wondering, the selected are Gingerbrave(White Lily)(and he's bringing his bestie's Strawberry and Wizard) and Princess Cookie(Hollyberry)(Knight Cookie of course, is tagging along with her), Pure Vanilla, Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese haven't selected their selected yet... Though rumor has it that Dark Cacao had selected someone but revoked his selection.)

And now, onto what the Beasts are!

As we already know, Shadow Milk is a Siren, but what about the others?

Well, so far I have Eternal Sugar as a harpy, Burning Spice as some kind of insect-cookie fusion thingy and Silent Salt as a spirit of sorts. I haven't figured out what kind of Monster Mystic Flour would have become yet... Maybe a Dragon? Who knows.

And that's pretty much all for this post.-

Ah wait, Gingerbrave lore.

So, in this AU Gingerbrave is White Lily's son! She created him mainly to see if she could but also to eventually wield the light of Freedom in her place as a successor. The main reason I did this was because Gingerbrave is very freedom coded to me, and he's silly.

Also he might be part faerie??? I dunno, he's been Fourteen mentally and physically for quite a while though.

I'll probably expand on the Gingerlore later though.

and now that's all! also, drop who you think the other heroes are gonna select because I think it'd be interesting to see who you all pick.

#not a prompt #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run au #crk #cr kingdom #shadow milk cookie #beast yeast #Beast Hunters AU #silent salt cookie #mystic flour cookie #eternal sugar cookie #burning spice cookie #white lily cookie #gingerbrave #princess cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader

[dedfly]

I love to think why Beasts x reader would work in game context

That is, you “baked” them, they are in your kingdom and... everything is so new, the cookies have changed so much, the culture has changed and they are all just so lost that it forces them to stay close to Baker Cookie aka you. Because you remain neutral (We literally have COD in our kingdom with ancient heroes together) and are aware of what is happening

Besides they can't destroy the worl in that state, that would be too easy. Force them LIVE in this new world

Make them work in mines

Oh and wanted to add. Because it's them they would act like a total obsessed creeps at the same time as a lost puppy

It's like awww and then you woke up because Shadow Milk had a nightmare :(

"What the? Get the fuck out of my house"

"But why Silent Salt had a pass?"

"WHAT?"

Yeah they all in your house

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk x reader #crk x you #shadow milk cookie x reader #eternal sugar cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #silent salt cookie x reader #mystic flour cookie x reader

[holyghostbelle]

CALL THE SHOTS

the last part.

TW:DUBCON? DARK!OLIVER(it's literally him though so idk)slight reader x felix, but also oliver pinning over felix because no ones mentioning that??? reader and Oliver lowkey hate each other I guess. I wouldn't even consider this as an x reader tbh. minors dni or ill sleep with your dad requests are open !! Omg, i don't know if you're gonna hate me for this ending but i wanted to keep it as close to what i think would realistically happen, like no yandere shit. also this is not proof read im sorry. my master list

2022, fifteen years later. 

“He's dead! Oh gosh, he's dead, please come to Saltburn quickly. I don't think I can be alone” Elspeth trembles on the phone, her hands shaking with vigour, tears running down her cheeks. Just mere moments after the ambulance had left with her husband, she had suddenly felt stifled in her seat, the last one left. 

You flee from Paris, fashion week can wait, Elspeth who had become more of your mother over the past years , more deserving of attention than clothes. With only a sea between you. 

“Oh darling, Duncan has set up your room for you, I'm so glad you're here!” she smiles at you, her hair significantly shorter since you last saw her, she wears a button up shirt along with a pair of loose fitting blue jeans and a embroidered shaman jacket. 

“How are you holding up?” you ask, voicing concern. 

She smiles, nodding as her face drops down. You pull her in for a hug, she grasps you tightly and you smell her expensive perfume. 

“Cup of tea?” 

"Thank you, Elspeth. A cup of tea sounds perfect," you reply. 

As she has someone prepare the tea in the  kitchen, you glance around Saltburn. Flowers wilting and the familiar sights bring back memories of laughter, hot sunny days, drunken ramblings to felix. It's hard to believe that just hours ago, everything seemed normal.

The silence is heavy,

"I don't know how to go on without him," Elspeth admits, her eyes welling up with fresh tears. You reach for her hand, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm here for you, Elspeth. Whatever you need," you assure her, feeling the gravity of the situation sinking in.

As the days turn into weeks after the funeral you manage to convince Elspeth to rent a small flat further in town, so you can return to Paris until summer.

Elspeth reluctantly agrees, and you find a quiet little place not far from the town centre, you help her move, shopping round antique stores for furniture that seemed more homely and lived in. 

And suddenly Oliver is at saltburn again. Your really not sure what happened, one minute your back in paris for the summer, back to writing articles about the hottest shoes or sex tips for the older women and then Elspeth is calling you about finding oliver in a local cafe not far from her home , and she sends you a video of him saying hi over facebook messenger, he's still tidy, neat but that nerdish boy look is gone and instead the shadow of a more important man. You wonder if he still smokes, you wonder if he still drinks, you wonder if he still thinks about that night before venetia died. 

So you head back to Saltburn, wondering what fifteen years made of oliver. 

“No husband then?” Oliver peers down at your ringless hand. 

“We got a divorce, no wife?” you stare at him, your lips pressed together careful not to smudge your Chanel lipstick. 

He shakes his head and smiles eyes taking the whole of you in, he notes the lack of smudged eyeshadow and mascara.“ you haven't aged a bit, your hairs shorter but you haven't aged”

“It's called filler Oliver” you sigh,”where Elspeth?”you ask.

“oh, she's fallen ill, it's all happened very quickly, i'm surprised you didn't hear, lung cancer” 

“Oh fuck” you drop your bag on the marble floor, clutching your head. “ It's just a Catton curse really isn't it?” you smile and Oliver wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in for a short hug.

“Come on, she wants to speak to you.”

“Darling, they say I've only got two months” Elspeth smiles, her hair forming a halo around her head in the bed, she coughs and then takes your hand into her own. “ I want you to have the Saltburn estate.”

“Elspeth , i can't” your eyes tear up at the thought of her gone, and you sitting in your loneliness of the big house, “really, i can't”

“oh darling shush’ she hushes at you, her eyes gazing over your own, oliver stands uncomfortably in the back, “it would've been yours anyway, i always thought you and Felix would marry, i know you loved him”

“Elspeth” 

“I'm not daft, i saw the way he looked at you too, ever since you came home for break when you were eight years old, i just knew” 

“I-god i miss him, it's been so long”

“ i know, i know” 

you smooth her hand with your own, nodding “okay fine, i'll take it.”

She smiles and grips your hand with all her strength. You look at Oliver, his face stoic.

Papers are signed, and then somehow, Elspeth's breathing tube is pulled out of her, by an insolent nurse, there's no lawsuit, you leave her at peace, her rock at the bottom of the lake with the rest of the Cattons and now your not sure what to do with the house. Stuck wandering the halls passing by Oliver, you want him to leave but you don't want to be left with the staff all alone, so you let him stay. 

Elspeth's room is still filled with medical supplies. Your bank account is filled with hundreds of millions, untouched.

You're called into the Main room of the house by Oliver, you look around waiting for him to appear but  suddenly there's a  sharp pain in your abdomen that grows and grows until it’s an unbearable pain, you wince. Looking up to meet Oliver's eyes. 

He unsheathes the knife from your body and clutches at your wound. Red seeps like spilled wine. 

“Shit, i-fuck.” he hands flail pushing into your wound, you scratch at the pressure. 

“Call someone Oliver, fuck that really hurts”

“Duncan! Duncan!” Oliver screams,his head cocks to the side. “ oh, he's not here.” his eyes darken and you're taken back to the night he kissed you for the first time, the way he looked at you like you didn't even exist.

“What?” you question, you feel woozy and try to anchor your hands behind you as you fall to the floor. But he hinders your movements.

“Don't you want to see felix?”he asks, eyes darkening. 

You shake your head, “No, I- i want to stay here, what are you doing?”

Oliver's eyes flicker, a mixture of pain and resentment. He continues to apply pressure to your wound, desperately trying to stop the flow of crimson escaping from your body.

“No you don't, just let go”

"what," you gasp, your breaths becoming shallower ”t-he fuck are you talking about”

Oliver's expression twists. His grip on the knife tightens, his knuckles turning white.

With each passing moment, the room seems to close in, the air thickening with tension. Your vision blurs, and you struggle to focus on Oliver's face.

“Please Oliver, you're gonna let me die?”

Oliver's gaze softens momentarily, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. He glances around the room as if searching for an escape from the harsh reality closing in.

"Maybe it's too late," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Maybe I can't change who I've become."

Desperation fills the room as the seconds tick away, your life slipping through the cracks. Oliver's hands tremble as he clings to the last shreds of hope.

In a final plea, you whisper, "what you've become?oh my god "your head pulls back and you feel yourself slipping.

The room falls into a heavy silence as realisation settles into you. 

“Did you kill him” 

He looks up at your face, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand, you taste the bitter metal from your blood. Eyes flickering down at your wound, his hand still pressing into it with the knife in his grip.

“Marry me and I'll let you live,” he asks. 

“Huh?”you shake in his hold.

“Marry me and I'll let you live, gotta make the decision now though, or I'll let you bleed out here.”

“Oh my god you're insane ” your bloody hand reaches for Oliver's face, you push it with all your force blood coating over his eyelashes making it harder to see, you stumble to the oak table in front of you, grabbing the candelabra attempting to smash it over his head. He rolls away, tackling your body, and you notice the adrenaline has kicked in because you manage to kick at his crotch. He winces in pain. And hits the floor to the side of you. You stare at him.

“What the fuck do you want” you shake your head at him. 

“I want to marry you.” 

You shake your head, “no you don't”

“i want the house” 

“Oh my god” you laugh,” call a fucking ambulance Oliver”

He looks at you , as you clutch and your wound, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and rings for an ambulance.

a/n; im sorry if this is an underwhelming ending, but like I have no clue how to end fics and I thought this was just middle fitting.

Taglist: @honeydewsmoothii @gothicwidowsworld @psychoenergy @kmmg98 @1950schick @freyasfox @domaniquessidehoe2 @possiblyafangirl @satrryeys4eva @callsignwidow

#oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #salt burn 2023 #salt burn fic #felix caton x reader #felix catton #barry keoghan #salt burn x reader

[viking-raider]

Salt in Our Wounds - Chapter II

Summary-> You've brought the unconscious and injured man into your home. Now, you and Edmund attempt to get him medical attention, while figuring out who he is, and what side he's on.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 4.8k

Chapters-> I

Warnings-> PG: Blood, Language, Infidelity, Fluff, Medical Treatment

Inspiration-> Since my favorite demon, @littlefreya, asked so nicely. The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

“What are we going to tell Papa, Edmund?” You whispered, looking at him suddenly.

Edmund pushed his jaw forward and rubbed his palms over the steering wheel. “You just leave that to me, Peanut.” He replied, hitting the village round-a-bout. “I'll talk to him. What we need to worry about is how we're going to get his bullet wound treated.”

“Oh, no!” You gasped, feeling ridiculous for forgetting that.

“Relax.” Edmund cooed, turning onto your street. “I might have someone in mind, who could help us and keep their mouth shut.” He said, parking against your curb, instead of his.

“Who?” You frowned, blinking at him.

“Old man Tremblay.” He said, killing the engine. “He used to be the village's doctor, before his son-in-law, Thomas, took over for him. They both hate the Germans. So, I might be able to talk to Dr. Tremblay about coming over to the house. I'll say we need him to look at Pops. No offense to Thomas, but he's more comfortable with the old man, which is true. Once he's here, I'll explain the situation to him.”

“If he doesn't help us?” You asked, chewing on your lip, worried.

“Then, we'll wing it.” He huffed, shoving his door open and getting out.

“Wing it.” You sighed, your hands trembling. “Right. Wing it.” You gulped, getting out and meeting your brother at the tailgate. “What end are we picking up first?” You asked, quietly.

“I'll grab his top end.” Edmund replied, casually. “No need for you to drop the poor bastard on his head. He's got enough issues.” He sighed, climbing into the truck. “We all do.” He mumbled under his breath. “Go, open the front door.” He said, jerking his head towards your modest cottage.

“Fair.” You replied, scurrying over and pushing the door open. “Papa, me and Edmund are bringing something in! Don't close the door, please!” You called inside, before rushing back to the truck, helping Edmund with your load.

You slide him half off the truck, enabling you to wrap your arms around his knees and calves, before Edmund managed the rest. Shuffling across the sidewalk and turning, so Edmund went in first, you stepped over the threshold into the cottage, feeling the heat of the fire your father had roaring in the grate.

“What in God's sake are you two bringing in!” Your father griped from the sitting room, where he occupied his favorite armchair.

“I'll explain in a minute, Pops!” Edmund wheezed back, kicking open the door to the cellar. “You go down first.” He bid you with a jerk of his chin. “Your side vision is better than mine, so you hopefully won't stubble down the stairs, while looking over your shoulder.”

“That's fine.” You nodded, turning so you could carefully go down the narrow steps into the dark basement below.

It was slow and cumbersome, but you and Edmund made it to the bottom. You sat your package down and unwrapped him. There were no windows into the basement, so there wasn't a need to hide or conceal him anymore.

“We can't lay him on the floor, Edmund.” You hissed at him, quietly.

“We're not, silly!” He growled back, shaking his head. “Pops has a camp bed up in the attic. Go, get it and bring it down here. We'll set it up in the cellar, he can lay on it.”

Nodding, you went back upstairs, peeking at your father as you came up, but found, to your relief, he had dozed off. Going upstairs and down the hallway, you reached up for a cord hanging from the ceiling and pulled it, revealing a hidden, folded ladder, leading up to the half attic. It took a few minutes for you to finally find the folded up, military green and canvas, camp bed. Once you were back in the basement with it, Edmund had the cellar door open and was waiting for you. He put the bed together like an expert, having gone on countless camping trips with it over his life.

“That should do it.” He sighed, wiping his face. “Let's get him in it, then I'll go talk to Dr. Tremblay.”

“All right.” You sighed back. “He doesn't seem to be bleeding as much.” You commented, once he was resting in the bed.

“Seems so.” Edmund agreed, narrowing his eyes at the wound in the dim lighting. “Whether or not it's a good or bad sign is yet to be determined.”

“Then, you should hurry and get the doctor.” You urged him, brow creasing gently as you looked up at him.

“I'm going. I'm going.” He defended, holding his hands up. “Can't a man take a breather?” He asked, wide eyed.

You reached out and took Edmund's hand. “I'm sorry. I'm just-”

“I know, Peanut.” Edmund interrupted, shaking his head at you. “You have a heart worth more than gold, itself.” He said softly, bending to kiss the top of your head. “With luck, I'll be back soon with Dr. Tremblay.” He called, heading out.

“You hear that?” You said, looking at the man. “We're going to get you looked after. You'll be right as rain again soon.” You smiled at him, though you weren't sure why. “How about I grab you a blanket?” You continued to babble at him. “You might get blood on it though.” You frowned, biting the corner of your lip, but scurried upstairs for a blanket and pillow anyway.

“What's that for, Peanut?” Your father asked, still half dozing.

“Oh, I just thought the basement spirit would like something comfortable to nap with.” You answered, pausing at the basement door, smirking over at him, knowing he wasn't listening.

“That's nice of you, love.” He slurred, head lolling forward.

You chuckled, continuing on. “Well, my father now thinks the basement is haunted.” You quipped, lightly spreading the blanket over your new housemate, then gently tucked the pillow under his head, noticing how sweaty his unruly, but short, curls were. “You've caught a fever.” You cooed, turning your hand to delicately rest it on his damp forehead. “Thankfully, it's cool down here.” You said, using the cuff of your blouse to dab at his sweaty brow.

“I'll be right back.” You hurried back upstairs, to the kitchen.

You grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and a dish towel from its hanger. Tossing the towel over your shoulder, you filled the bowl halfway with water and turned to the ice box and chipped ice from it, dropping some into the bowl. You made two trips between the upstairs and the cellar, taking a chair down there, before taking down the chilled water, so you had something to sit on as you gingerly dabbed his flushed forehead and face.

“Well, whoever you are.” You said, balancing the bowl in your lap. “It's a right mess this is.” You chuckled, before introducing yourself, feeling silly just sitting there in the silence. “I hope you're on our side or Edmund is going to have us both shot.”

Some of the heat in his skin cooled as you lightly draped the folded dish towel over his forehead, making you relieved to see him not so flushed.

You heard the door upstairs creak open and the floorboards overhead groan as heavy feet strode and shuffled over them. “That must be Edmund with Dr. Tremblay.” You commented, looking up at the dusty ceiling. “I should go up and check on them.” You said, standing up, setting the now warm bowl of water in your place on the chair.

“Edmund?” You called softly, appearing in the kitchen, where he was standing with a short, gray haired man, dressed in a wrinkled, brown three piece suit.

“Sshh.” He hushed you, casting an eye towards the sitting room and waved you closer. “As I was saying, Dr. Tremblay, I've brought you here not for my father, but for another matter entirely.” He continued, his voice low so as not to disturb your father.

Dr. Tremblay's bushy brows drew closer together, reminding you of a caterpillar. “Is that so?” He hummed, bringing his arthritic hand up to his chin. “Then, what was it you summoned me here for?”

Edmund's eyes twitched to yours for a moment, you nodded at him and he looked back to the good doctor. “I know you have no love for our occupiers, Dr. Tremblay, like I, myself, don't.”

“Ha!” He laughed, his head tipping back as he grinned. “Fripouilles!” He spat, with no small amount of venom.

“I agree, sir.” Edmund chuckled, smirking. “But, to the heart of the matter. My dear sister here, on her daily morning walk along the beach found something—someone, washed ashore.” He explained, his voice calm and steady, revealing no emotion or opinion. “We're sure he's of our morals. But he's been injured.”

“Injured?” Dr. Tremblay frowned, narrowing his ordinarily kind, but currently and understandably suspicious, brown eyes at him. “Injured how? Show me.”

“I would rather tell you.” Edmund answered, biting his lip. “In case, you wish not to have any further dealings in this matter.”

“Nonsense!” Tremblay huffed, waving his hand dismissively at the two of you. “Let me see this man.”

Edmund didn't move for a moment, before nodding and leading him down the basement stairs. “He was shot in the side.” He explained, entering the cellar, where your guest laid.

“I discovered he'd developed a fever.” You spoke up from the door. “So, I applied a cool compress to his skin.”

“That was a good thing.” Dr. Tremblay answered, distractedly, folding back the blanket and resting his hands on the man's injured side. “Has he regained consciousness at any time?”

“No.” Edmund replied, shaking his head and looking at you.

“He hasn't.” You confirmed, nervously.

Dr. Tremblay pulled a pair of wired spectacles out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket, before untucking the shirt from the unconscious man's trousers, for a clearer view, and began fussing around the wound. “Help me turn him on his side, Edmund.” He bid, waving your brother over. “Yes, good. Very good.” He nodded, examining his back. “The bullet went clean through to the other side.” He said, indicating the exit area, just above his hip.

“Then, why is he still comatose?” You asked, concerned.

“He may have struck his head on something, while in the water.” He answered, allowing Edmund to rest him on his back, before moving up to his head and gently working his fingers through his curls, feeling for any bumps or soft spots on his scalp. “Ah, just here.” He smiled, finding a faint knot at the back, just behind his left ear.

“Well, get my bag from upstairs. I'll treat him.” Tremblay sighed at Edmund. “Are you squeamish, young lady?” He asked, while he pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down.

You thought of the Patrol Officer for a split second, before answering him. “No, sir. I am not.”

“Very good.” He said, crooking a finger at you. “You'll be taking care of this, when I'm not here to check on him.” He informed you, bluntly.

“That's fine.” You gulped, biting your lip and moving to stand beside him. “What will I need to do?”

“The dressing on both the entry and exit wounds will need to be changed.” He explained to you, calmly. “You'll make sure there's no sign of infection or the stitches I need to put in place have not come untied. As well as keep them clean.”

You nodded your head, somewhat apprehensive at the thought of doing all of this, but knew there was no other option, if you wanted to keep this man alive.

“You were correct in assuming he has a fever.” Dr. Tremblay said, lifting the damp towel and laying his hand on the man's forehead, feeling the heat there. “It's possible there's an infection in his wound from his time in the water.” He replaced the towel and looked up at Edmund as he rejoined the two of you, holding Tremblay's black, large and leather doctor's bag.

“I will show you how to give him penicillin shots.” He told you, taking his bag and setting it down between his feet.

“You mean with a needle?” You squeaked, startled, looking over at Edmund.

“Certainly not with a glass, mon chéri.” Tremblay chuckled, grinning at the contents of his bag.

The seasoned doctor removed an emerald, glass bottle of liquid antiseptic, a small package of silk sutures with a wickedly sharp needle, a tiny vial of a clear substance and a glass syringe. He laid them out on a small space on the bed, turning his attention back to the angry looking entry wound.

“Do you have any hand towels you could part with?” He asked, looking up at you. “It will help me clean these wounds.”

“Yes, of course.” You nodded, darting back upstairs and grabbing a couple of the dish towels you had that were in sad condition, bringing them back down as Edmund was wrestling an old nightstand into the room.

“Give him something to put his instruments on.” He explained to your expression.

“Ah.” You nodded, understanding.

Everything set up, you watched closely as Dr. Tremblay drew the milky antibiotic through into the syringe, pushing up the plunger slightly to remove any air, then set it aside and studied his patient for a moment, before letting out a sigh that sounded as if he was inconvenienced.

“We must remove his trousers.” He said, tapping his foot.

“Why?” Edmund blurted out, brows going up with surprised shock.

“So I may administer the shot to him.” Tremblay replied, with an air of impatience.

“Well!” Edmund started to protest.

“Men!” You huffed, shaking your head.

“Don't you dare!” He snapped at you, watching as you moved around the good doctor and removed the blanket you had laid over the injured man, but you ignored him.

First, untying his boots and dropping them at the foot of the bed, then reached up and unbuttoned his suspenders, followed by the button of his trousers.

“What if he's not wearing an undergarment?” Your brother protested further.

“Then, we will be finding out presently, brother.” You replied, shooting him a look as you tugged the zipper down, much to your relief finding the hint of white and blue striped shorts. “See, you're fretting for nothing.” You said, tugging the rough wool pants down off his surprisingly thick thighs.

“Possibly of questionable allegiance, but properly dressed.” You quipped, folding them.

“Watch closely, mon chéri.” Tremblay hummed and picked the syringe back up, with a practiced hand, squeezed the muscle at the top of his thigh and injected him, slowly pushing down the plunger. “That is how it is done.” He said, looking up at you.

“It seems simple enough.” You answered, attempting to appear confident in your ability to replicate it.

“Very good.” He nodded, turning his bespeckled eyes to the bullet wound on the man's abdomen.

Grabbing one of the hand towels you set on the table, he poured antiseptic on it and pressed it to the wound, eliciting one of the first major reactions out of your beached stranger with the stinging liquid to the open and bleeding puncture. He whined, brows drawing together as he shook his head, sluggishly lifting his hand. You moved back around to the head of the bed, hushing him gently and picking up the now wilted towel as it slipped from his forehead. You caressed his damp curls off his forehead and temple, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort as Dr. Tremblay continued to disinfect his wound and the area around it.

“You're all right.” You whispered to him, quietly. “We're just trying to help you.” You tried to explain to him, not sure if he could hear you or not. “You're safe here with us.” You mumbled, watching Tremblay set the cloth aside to pick up the needle and thread, you unconsciously took the man's limp hand in yours and hugged it to your chest.

“Is there no more light to be had in this room, Edmund!” Tremblay asked, leaning forward to stare at the wound in the dusky light of the single, naked bulb overhead.

“I may be able to find you a lantern.” Edmund replied, turning back into the basement and rummaged around the items, until he found an oil lamp. He shook it gently, hearing what oil that was left inside slosh about. “I found it!” He called out, before going upstairs, setting that lamp on the kitchen counter and crossing into the sitting room, where the once roaring fire was, but now only flickered.

He took one of the fire sticks from the holder bolted to the brick that made up the fireplace and lit it with one of the remaining flames. Carefully carrying it back to the lamp, Edmund lit its soaked wick and blew the fire stick out, before tossing it into the sink.

“Here.” Edmund sighed, setting the lamp down on the table. “I hope it's enough.”

“Yes, yes.” The doctor nodded, satisfied.

With all he needed, Tremblay squinted and made the first pick of the needle. The patient huffed, his stomach muscles flexing in response, but it didn't deter Dr. Tremblay in the slightest as he continued. You stroked his forearm and squeezed his hand, watching with an uneasy stomach as the old doctor made smooth sutures. Those sutures placed, Edmund helped roll him onto his side, so the wound on his lower back could be likewise treated with antiseptic and stitched closed.

“I will come back in a day or two, to check on his wound and ensure the fever has broken. Give him the next shot in the morning.” Tremblay said, arranging his bag and closing it. “Should he grow worse in that time, send for me.”

“We will.” You answered, staring down at him, concerned with the flush to his face.

Edmund showed the kind doctor back upstairs, while you gently tended to your sick house guest. Carefully pulling down his shirt and covering him back up, as not to leave him only laying in the camp bed in a long sleeved shirt and his boxers. Picking up the basin of water, you carried it back upstairs and dumped it out in the sink, refilling it with fresh water and a little ice, before taking it back to the cellar, resting it on the table. Dipping the folded cloth in the chilled water and ringing it out, then gently pressing it to his flushed and bearded cheeks wiping away the droplets of blossoming sweat at his brow.

“He's going to need some nursing.” You said, hearing your brother coming back.

“I can see that.” Edmund replied, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“Is there any prospect of finding him a more comfortable bed?” You asked Edmund, looking the camp bed over, how it dipped under his weight, the only support were the ties that kept the canvas middle secure to the frame.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Between both houses, while Willa and I have a guest bed, that he's not welcome to, for obvious reasons. We don't have a bed to spare.” He told you, but saw the glint in your eye. “I could piece something for him.” He continued, stopping you from asking the question that was on the tip of your tongue. “Topping it with the mattress from my spare bed.”

“That would be better for him, I think.” You said, worried about the safety of the sutures on his back.

“Well, for now, it'll have to wait until tomorrow.” Edmund sighed, scratching the underside of his jaw. “It's your turn to make dinner tonight, by the way.” He reminded you, watching you fuss with the stranger as if he was someone you knew.

“I remember, brother.” You replied, catching the edge in his voice. “I got a good bit of minced beef from Remi last afternoon, with some Swedes.” You told him, dipping the cloth in the cool basin, then lightly laid it over the resting man's forehead. “Juliette told me a recipe yesterday as well. It's called Beef Loaf.” You stood, planting your hands on your hips and massaging the small of your back, sore from so much bending.

“I thought we would try it tonight.” You said, turning towards him, with a lifted brow.

“Sounds interesting.” He answered, cocking a brow back at you. “You should get to it.” He added, looking at his watch. “Supper starts in two hours. You know how the Major is, when dinner isn't prompt.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. “Yes, I do.” You replied, casting your eyes down to your soiled skirt. “But, I should change first. If he sees me like this, he'll likely ask questions.”

“Very true.” Edmund nodded, squinting at your skirt and just making out the stains. “Off you trot, then. I'll stay with our friend for a little while, in case he wakes.” He sighed, pushing off the door frame towards the chair. “You mind popping over to my place and grabbing my sketch pad, after you're finished freshening up? I need to make some figures on the shelves I'm putting down here.”

“Of course.” You nodded, picking the basin. “Do you have another lantern or oil? So you have more light to work by?”

“I believe so.” He frowned, slouching in the chair. “Willa can find them.”

Nodding again, you left back upstairs, setting the bowl in the sink and headed up to your bedroom. Sighing, you unbuttoned your skirt and let it slip in a puddle around your ankles, before stepping out of it and opened your little closet. Reaching blindly in for a fresh skirt, pulling out a wool, black and green, plaid skirt and slipped it on. Smoothing your hands over the garment, you hurried outside and to Edmund and Willa's home across the street, knocking lightly as you pushed the door open.

“Willa!” You called out for your sister-in-law, looking about for the slight brunette. “Lila!” You shouted, crossing to the back of the house, where they had a small garden, finding your sister-in-law there. She sat at a small table, slightly sideways in her chair, as she held one of her Debs Rose-Tips between her slender fingers, her eyes staring off over the garden wall.

“Willa.” You hailed, stepping out onto the patio.

Head jerking as she startled and taking a deep breath, Willa blinked several times and looked around at you. “Oh, it's you.” She sighed, rolling her hazel eyes. “What do you want?”

“I came for Edmund's sketch book. I also wanted to know if you had a lantern or lantern oil?” You explained to her, ignoring her look of annoyance at being bothered in whatever she was doing.

“Fine.” Willa huffed, standing up and heading inside, you following after her.

Willa opened a closet in the living room, removing a lantern and a bottle of oil, handing them over to you, before finding Edmund's sketch pad and his graphite pencil in the kitchen, motioning to them. “Will my husband need anything else?” She asked, with an air of almost callousness.

“I should think not.” You answered, taking the book and pencil up. “I'll have dinner ready soon.” You informed her, juggling all of your items. “If you're going to grace us with your presence.” You added, with an edge of your own.

“I'll think about it.” She answered, lifting an arched brow at you.

“Right, I'll have Edmund get you, when it's finished.” You said, turning for the door. “If not, I'll make you a plate.”

You were gently turning out the mixture of mince meat, dry breadcrumbs, fine onion, an egg, a pinch of salt and a can of cream of mushroom into your four by eight loaf pan, when your brother came tromping up the basement stairs.

“You'll wake the dead with all that noise, Captain.” You quipped, lightly patting the meat concoction into shape in the pan.

“That I will.” Edmund chuckled, moving to stand beside you, peeking over your shoulder to see in the baking pan. “Is that the beef loaf?” He asked, giving it a questionable brow lift.

“It is.” You nodded, sighing at it, praying you had mixed it all properly. “Now, it's supposed to cook for an hour.”

“Well, hopefully it'll look prettier by then.” Edmund chuckled, smirking at you, then brought up his sketch pad. “I finished up the drawing for the shelves down there. What do you think?” He asked, cocking his head at the dark lines.

Opening the blazing oven and grabbing the pan in a thick towel, you paused for a moment to give your brother's picture a look. “They look good, Eddie.” You told him, smiling encouragingly, bending to slide the pan onto the middle rack and shut the door. “How are we to open and close the secret door you've made there?” You asked, pointing it out, careful not to touch it so you didn't smudge the graphite.

“The lock is magnetic.” He replied, pointing it out in the sketch. “We'll put something on the shelf that'll connect to it, so when it's moved, the mechanism is tripped and the door swings up.”

“That's pretty incredible.” You grinned, enchanted by the whole thing.

“It shouldn't take me more than two days to build.” Edmund said, sounding as confident as he could as he examined the drawing a bit more, slowly turning away to head over to the kitchen table, seating himself to refine it a bit more.

“What are we building?” Your father's voice asked as he made careful steps coming down stairs.

You and Edmund exchanged a quick glance at each other and you turned away to mind the violet and dusky yellow Swedes that sat boiling in a pot of salted water top of the stove. There was a lump in your throat, waiting to hear what excuse Edmund was going to give your father for the changes downstairs in the basement. Neither of you really worried about him going down there, he struggled with stairs because of his advancing arthritis, choosing to sleep in his armchair in the sitting room most nights and only making the arduous journey upstairs to his bedroom when he needed to change his clothes or shower.

However any change to the house, seen or unseen, would draw his attention.

“I'm going to build some shelves against the cellar wall, in the basement, for her.” Edmund replied, calmly, making an adjustment to his plans. “So she can tidy things up a bit down there.”

“And what of the cellar?” Mael asked, shuffling over to his chair.

“We haven't used it once for anything since we lived here, Pops.” He chuckled, smirking at the old man's back. “Might as well close it up.”

Mael made a sound as he lowered himself into his chair, something between a dismissive grunt and a stiff groan. “Very well.” He sighed, settling himself and tossing his knitted blanket over his lap. “If it makes Peanut happy.”

You chucked, smiling. “It does, Papa.” You assured him, draining the water out of the Swedes pot and looking over your shoulder at Edmund, who winked at you.

Mashing the Swedes and getting them nice and creamy, you set them aside and checked the Beef Loaf. Opening the oven door and filling the space with a rather mouthwatering aroma, but the dish still needed a few more minutes to cook, so you shut door and started pulling down plates, setting them on the stove to warm up.

“Dinner will be ready soon.” You announced to Edmund and your father. “Do you want to see if Willa is joining us?” You asked Edmund, biting the corner of your lip.

Edmund took a deep breath, setting his pencil down and rubbed at the smudged graphite dust on his fingers for a moment. “I think we both know the answer to that, sister.” He mumbled, a hardness coming to his eyes.

“I suppose.” You whispered back, heart sore for him. “I'll make a plate for her.”

“Best bet.” He sighed, pushing his chair back and standing, moving over to the sink to wash his hands.

#henry cavill #Salt in Our Wounds #Salt in Our Wounds *Fic* #Viking-Raider Fics #henrycavill #gus march phillips #Gus x Reader #Gus March Phillips x Reader #Fluff #Blood #German Occupied France #World War II #Quasi-Slow Burn

[siennawrites-blog]

i want felix to tell me everything is gonna be alright whilst he’s eating me out in the most sloppiest way possible

#felix catton #salt burn #felix catton x reader

[brittle-doughie]

*sees the five beasts* I can fix them

You: I can fix them.

The Five Beasts: The things I’d do to this cookie…

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #eternal sugar cookie #burning spice cookie #shadow milk cookie #mystic flour cookie #silent salt cookie #crk

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Six Becomes Five or the five beasts reacting of the witch killing Reader!cookie who is innocent and not corrupted (with knife instead of fork prison) as a warning punishment for five beasts from their own corrupted to see their love one die. (👉👈 just love the story so much I wonder if it ok for angst)

TW: Death

All you had wanted to do was help them. Advocate for them, say that it couldn't be their faults! It was the Witches who baked them with that power after all, how could they be blamed?

The Witches didn't like that.

It was in full view of the Beasts. You were approaching, already ranting about the Witches, and Shadow Milk Cookie was preparing to finally bring you over to their side-

When a knife fell, piercing you through your stomach.

No one could even react or move for the first few seconds before you collapsed. Eternal Sugar Cookie's scream of your name could be heard all throughout the land as they rushed forward.

There was nothing they could even do. The knife was a creation of the Witches. They weren't stronger than them.

If the Witches thought this would send a message, it did. But a very wrong one. The Beasts weren't going to stop with tormenting the Cookies, oh no.

The Witches were their newest targets, and they were going to rip them limb from limb.

#tw death #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #eternal sugar cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #silent salt cookie x reader #mystic flour cookie x reader