Pretty little liars

(Felix Catton x fem Reader)

New series coming very soon!

Summary: Felix Catton was the embodiment of everything you hated, yet you loved him like you never imagined one human being could love another. But as with all good things, you didn't know what you had until it was stolen from you.

(I suck at summaries, sorry!)

Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Enemies to lovers vibes. Oral (fem & male receiving), p in v sex, fingering, ... Jealousy, voyeurism, secrets, mentions of death. Oliver being his creepy little self.

ANGST/smut/fluff (do I ever write anything else? lol)

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Saltburn has altered my brain chemistry and Felix won't leave my mind so I had to give him his own mini series. This fic will start next week and will have multiple short chapters. Tag list is open for those who want on it ;)

My lil serotonin boost <3

Hi! hello, im completely insane so i made [a very amateur editing of] saint Oliver Quick cards so you can print and keep with you(???)

theres a few combinations, do as you will with them. but if you actually print them plz tag me so i can see 💕💕💕

front

back

i spent 3 resident evil movies and 1 YT essay doing these, so... 7/8 hours??

it was fun, anyways, enjoy ❤

can we the people have your catton quick headcanons can be nsft if you like or just seperate felix and oliver headcanons i hunger for them. 🛀🏼

cheers

x

sorry this took so long, i wanted to give you good ones! cattonquick is my lifeblood atm, those will be at the end:

oliver:

oliver didn’t decide on a big grand plan to lie to felix beforehand. he’s more just impulsive than some kind of evil mastermind. felix wanted to know about his family & because he felt they were unremarkable, oliver made stuff up. it snowballed into something much bigger when felix pulled away and he felt the need to continue lying. we saw how the professor responded to his background — he’s probably gotten this response all his life when he’s talked about himself to people he wants to impress. oliver didn’t think that felix would be invested in their friendship long enough for his lies to matter.

oliver is a bottom. this is just an infallible truth in my mind. i don’t want to elaborate or overanalyze it lol

oliver is gay — the only reason he makes any romantic or sexual advances towards women is because of their connections with felix. i don’t think he really thinks about sexuality, he just gets impulses and all of them are towards men

oliver has to masturbate a lot. being around felix who’s constantly teasing and flirting with him is rough. every day is a challenge, especially at saltburn. does he lock his own door? that’s for you to decide..

farleigh is the first out lgbt person oliver has known who’s not made to be an outcast because of it. it’s another reason he’s jealous of him.

felix:

felix is bad at kissing and bad at sex. emerald fennell said this herself. he doesn’t need to be good at any of it because girls (and guys) will still want him regardless. but i like to think that sex between him and oliver changes things bc im a romantic at heart lol.

felix is truly, genuinely unaware of how much he takes advantage of people. his life has always been made easy so why would he not just enjoy the attention? it’s not like he’s forcing people to be do things for him, they’re offering themselves up to him. no need to overanalyze why people love you so much.

felix went to boarding school — i’ve always assumed this means it was an all boys school. this is why he’s so good at unabashedly, publicly flirting with oliver. felix had his first kiss with a boy and he’s had all kinds of experiences with boys. maybe he even lost his virginity to a boy.

CATTONQUICK:

JSYK @leiflitter’s you’re almost home has basically become canon fix-it in my head so read these with that in mind. also if you want a1 cattonquick headcanons, i reblogged theirs a few posts ago

once people know that they’re together, felix and oliver are always holding hands or touching each other. but you’ll never see them kiss in public.

felix is the one to propose. it’s only appropriate given oliver’s insatiable need to be wanted, and this would be the truest form of want and love that felix can give to him after keeping him at a distance for so long.

felix loves for oliver to wear his clothes. we know this. even when they’re married and live together, with their OWN CLOSETS, felix will hand oliver his own sweater to put on after they have sex and he’s going to pee. oliver doesn’t protest.

oliver loves when felix ties him to the bed. he can stay that way for hours, felix giving him sips of water in between sessions of whatever he’s decided to do to him

they love movie dates. oliver always wants to pick a scary one because felix is easily scared & it’s hilarious to watch this 6’5” man yelp and spill his popcorn in the theater over jump scares

(discarded) model au cattonquick

give me oliver, who had been in the industry for longer than he wanted to remember. he worked for small clothing shops because, while his height and face couldn't make up for it, his body did. the clothes fit, and his face would be cut off anyway when the time came for the pictures to be uploaded. it was only the way the clothes hugged his body, giving way to an illusion of something pretty, shaped by lighting and shadows, added with a flair of editing. oliver worked because while his family might not be swimming in poverty, it didn't mean they could indulge in something expensive, and oliver wanted that. he wanted expensive apartment, luxurious room and a bathroom where he could play fucking golf in it; he wanted a plush bed to lie on at the end of the day, a scenery of the glimmering lights of the city at night. he wanted all of that, so he worked.

but, see, he was oliver quick, and while he wasn't someone who could sell his face and background, he could do with his body. he wasn't just talking about glossy paper; he knew the darker side of the industry and didn't shy away from it. because what was there to be afraid of? it wasn't likely that he'd do runways, and he wouldn't be a supermodel, he knew. he didn't have what it took to be one, and he accepted that. it was hard to dream when the world kept reminding him why it was dangerous to do so. and solely because of that, oliver decided to stick with his whimsical dream of a place good enough to rest at the end of the day, and nothing else. he got good grades and he was riding on a full scholarship; he could cut off expenses by living in the dorm, and he could still save up for the apartment of his dream so he could have it once he graduated. he didn't need wishful thinking; didn't need grandeur dream. he knew what he was capable of and the limit of what he could achieve. sleeping with fellow models and photographers was one way to do that. he could have more acquaintances and they got him gigs. it was useful enough that he kept doing it.

sure, sometimes, he wondered if modelling was the actual thing he was doing, or was it more of him selling his body? but then again, what was the difference. he still sold his body, by different means. and it was good, anyway, the fuck. sure, some of them were boring, and it wasn't like oliver could indulge in himself, because it was strictly for business and nothing else. he had no intention of getting closer to them, make friends and all that bullshit. still, it was nice to have someone in bed who could cater to him once in a while. he did have some friends-with-benefit within the industry, who could see what he was doing and were fine with it, because they both benefitted from it anyway. one person who stuck with him the longest was xavier deimos, or dee, as he preferred to be called, a model with a face of adonis and a salary triple of what oliver could scrounge up in six months. he seemed to be fond of oliver's pragmatic way of thinking, had confessed to him at least twice a month and laughed when he got rejected. oliver didn't mind his presence, and he got the benefits he wanted from dee, even though he had to refuse most of the gigs. he wasn't interested in runways and he didn't want his face to be exposed. it might seem counterproductive, but oliver was aware that he wasn't someone darling to the media, and he had no interest in that. he was only interested in enriching himself and ensuring a guarantee that he could live comfortably while he looked for a more suitable job. he didn't want to be restricted and he didn't want to bother with headaches if he were to do something he wanted and the media didn't agree with it. he'd leave that kind of thing to dee. though, sometimes, oliver wondered if he should have just accepted dee's offer, be his partner and reaping the benefits of being with someone rich enough to pay him for his time.

he supposed he could consider it. dee was, after all, someone who knew who oliver quick was, someone with terrifying intelligence and brutal efficiency in doing his tasks. but also, someone who never experienced romance because he was afraid, no matter how much he tried to deny. someone who stuttered and shied away from intimate conversations, who didn't know how to carry himself the way he did in front of the camera. someone who didn't know how to handle his feelings and believed that he should just not; someone who had his own insecurities and kept it locked away from his thoughts, preferring to put on an unreadable mask so that no one could find out the truth that oliver was just a boy in a big town. but fuck if he was going to be defeated just from that. oliver might not be an apex predator, someone who stood at the top of the world, but he knew how to fight and to protect himself, and he was smart enough to keep everything to himself, to continue his work the way he dictated it to be, so that he could disillusion himself into thinking that he had freedom in life.

then, of course, the relatively peaceful life he led was turned upside down because of some jackass with a pretty face and arms strong enough to carry oliver easily. beautiful dark eyes and privileges he owned without a care in the world. someone so different than oliver and what he strived for in life, someone who fucked up everything oliver had ever known about himself, and laughed while doing so, because he knew he could get away with it.

this time, give me felix who decided on a whim that he'd call one of the people who approached him on the street, raving about his look and slipping him their cards. call anytime you want, we'll always make the time for you. of course felix believed that, because why wouldn't he? he knew what kind of rumor spread about him, was aware of how he looked and was born into a kind of family that never learned how to be mundane, how to be humane. so, he called, and landed himself a gig not even four hours after the call.

he was the new darling of the modelling world, the one with a barrage of scandals following behind because he was reckless and he had never denied that he was inching towards alcoholism and the abandon that came with always having someone to take home at the end of the night. of course, it wasn't like he was farleigh, who could shut people up with two words and find what would hurt them the most, or venetia who numbed down everything, including her brilliance and dreams, with liquor and cigarettes. but that didn't matter, because felix banked on his face and his family's name. sue him, but he he wasn't just another pretty boy with no brain. he might not be a genius, but he knew how to flaunt his legacy, and it felt good, didn't it? to be revered, to be worshipped, to be praised left and right with saccharine sweet words that showed exactly the implication of how he'd fall one day from the throne. but that was alright; to felix, this was just another whim he'd entertain for what it was worth. if he got bored of it, or if the media hounded him down, he'd drop it and continue with his life as if nothing had happened.

felix had everything he had ever wanted in life even before he decided to work as a model. he got parties for days back in the estate and friends higher-up in the hierarchy simply because he was a catton. but he thought that the glimmering lights of the camera, the silk on his skin, the make up sharpening his features, the giggles he got when he showed someone his face on some magazines, it was all fun and he liked having fun. this time, it wasn't just another night on the pub, a body to delve himself into at the end of the night, a hangover waiting within its cruel embrace in the morning. this time, it was something more grand, bright lights and glossy papers and different clothes every fifteen minutes. this time, felix's playground was the whole world, and he was going to enjoy it down to the last drop.

now that we've got the stars for the stage, let the play begin.

(i feel like this is a bit weird so i discard it. will write something in similar theme later. just wanted to get this out there first.)

Truth-warping Cattonquick au

Quick parents background

Jeff started working right out of secondary, was a clerk at his in-laws' company (he'd met his wife during her summer stint at daddy's office). Paula worked at the same company and babysat for the Quicks relatively often.

Jeff's then-wife (Moira) was a lawyer and he had started to chafe at her whole "independent, empowered woman" thing, being one of those men that value women and children as extensions of themselves and how they make them look and feel. Paula on her part grew more and more jealous of Moira's everything and felt like she didn't value it. They started an affair.

They were planning for Jeff to separate, then get a divorce and try for custody. Paula would be kept as a babysitter and when the dust settled they would claim to have fallen in love during that time. They got arrogant, then sloppy, and the cat got out of the bag.

They both got fired without references (fraternizing, unbecoming conduct, damaging the company's reputation) from the only job they'd ever had during the 80s crisis in the north.

They both had trouble finding reliable work and worked temp and off the books for a long time. It was bad enough that they lived in council housing for a long while.

Moira had been the money maker and the house was a non-matrimonial asset. She divorced Jeff on grounds of adultery (with Ollie as incontrovertible proof) and dragged him though the mud. Panned his character, his prospects, his ability to take care of the girls... He only got visitation and had to pay child support.

Paula and Jeff had dreamed of her being one of those stepmoms the kids call "mama 2" or something similar and prefer to their actual mother. That didn't happen.

The Quicks see themselves as victims, because, you see, Moira was so cold, absent and high-strung, she looked down on them both, feeling so superior with her title gotten with daddy's money. And they just happened to commiserate together, just fell in love, couldn't help it, and she was so petty about the whole thing, left them penniless, turned the girls against them...(this is where/how Oliver learned to lie to himself, put blame on others and warp reality so it suits his narrative)

They didn't consciously resent or neglect Oliver, but he had been the final nail in their coffin, a constant reminder of their betrayal for Jeff's girls, and they were incredibly busy longing for their old lives and working to get back to them.