#think about venetia and what she wanted and farleigh and what he wanted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mphountitled · 3 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you

Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking

He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him

"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.

In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.

A torture chamber.

You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-

"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."

You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.

What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.

"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.

"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"

Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.

"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.

It should be vile.

Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?

With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.

The games are on.

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.

They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.

As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.

Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.

With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.

"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.

"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.

Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.

His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.

You truly are furious with him.

"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"

Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"

"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.

"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.

Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.

"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."

Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."

The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.

Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.

"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."

A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"

"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.

You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"

"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.

It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"

"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.

"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.

A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.

While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.

"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.

His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.

"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.

"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.

"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."

"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.

As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.

"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"

"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.

It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.

He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.

"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.

"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.

"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"

"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.

"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"

"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"

You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.

You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.

"I want you too."

Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.

"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"

"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"

"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.

"F-Fuck-"

"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.

His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.

"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"

"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.

"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.

"You'd smoke anyway."

#saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut #saltburn x you #farleigh start #farleigh saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start smut #oliver quick x reader

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qpidkitea · 4 months

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TRANQUILITY

FARLEIGH START X FEM! READER

PRÉCIS: AU where Oliver is caught before he fully takes over Saltburn, Felix is still dead, and obviously Farleigh is completely torn and in need of comfort at the loss of his best friend and cousin, takes place after the curtain scene

WARNING: Angsty, cursing, mentions of death, cheek kisses, descriptions of a dead body, so much crying, comfort.

Nothing could've prepared you for today. Nothing could've prepared you for the horrified scream of Elspeth that's still ringing in your ears after the finding of Felix's dead body. His face was blue and swollen, a white, foamy, dried substance cascading down his cheek. His wings from his costume were bent and dirtied as he lay face down on the floor. The police discovered Oliver and his schemes almost immediately. They found the discarded powdered poison laying just a few yards away from the crime scene in the maze. His fingerprints were all over it.

Lunch was unbearable. After watching Oliver being pulled away from the mansion in handcuffs, everyone, especially Farleigh, was excused, his previous claims of drug use dismissed. Silent tears streamed down almost everyone's faces. Venetia almost looked dead. She was surely high on some type of pills, her mascara horribly smudged on her pale face. You wanted to help her, but you feared that if you touched her, she would crumble under your touch completely. Farleigh was shaking horribly, trembling with the effort of trying to keep his breakdown at bay, but tears still found their way down his face.

You sat silently beside Farleigh, holding and squeezing his hand underneath the table, staring down at the soon-to-be cold Shepards Pie on the table in front of you. Elspeth clears her throat, and you look up. She smiles at you, lifting her wineglass and taking an almost dangerous gulp of wine. She sets down the glass, the sound of it being painfully loud because of the quietness of the entire place, the only other sounds being small sniffles, and the sound of Jame's fork and knife cutting into his meal.

"Y/N darling?" Elspeth's voice startles you, sucking you out of the silence of your own head.

"Yes?" You didn't know what she could've possibly asked you at the moment. Your thoughts bounced off the walls of your head, wondering if she would ask you anything about Oliver. Maybe a question about if you noticed any of this behavior at school, or while he lived here..

"Did you enjoy the party?" Farleigh chuckles slightly, squeezing your hand impossibly tight. He shook his head in utter disbelief at her question.

Before you could answer, Duncan enters the room quietly, leaning down next to Sir James, who looks completely unfazed but yet mortified. Duncan then whispers in James' ear, something about closing the curtains in case the coroner passes the window of the room that you all sat in.

"Yes. Thank you. Close them."

Duncan closes the curtains smoothly, the room becoming an almost evil looking red as they close. There was one area left of the room that still shun with the beautiful light of the morning, and you can't help but think how the day would be perfect for laying in the tall grass fields underneath the warm sun, ignoring the cold breeze that would pass you. Duncan takes a few steps to close the last curtain, only to struggle horribly. Something must've been caught. His efforts became more aggressive, especially after noticing the coroner walking closer to the window. Sir James became more aggravated at each tug of the curtain.

"Duncan, just get them closed, for Christ's sake!" Sir James yells and angrily lets his fists slam against the table, and it makes everyone in the room jump.

"Yes, I am trying, sir. I can’t-" Duncan gives the curtain a final yank, and the room is plunged into the same red darkness. As if on cue, the sound of the gurney that held Felix's body rolled on the gravel, complete with the ambulance doors shutting harshly. That seemed to be Farleigh's final straw. He stands up abruptly, still holding your hand, which yanks your arm, forcing you to stand up with him. As Farleigh walks away, you walk with him quietly, ignoring the protested yells of Sir James. He walks quickly, still shaking, with tears flowing down his face.

Even though Farleigh was walking incredibly fast, it seems the walk was longer than usual, his long legs working overtime as he walks the enormous expanse of the mansion.

"Farleigh... slow down please'm gonna fall-" You were tripping on your own two feet, whisking down hallways and turning the curves of the wall way too fast to even register you were turning them.

"Shut up"

You weren't trying to submit to him, nor show your weakness, but you knew he was frustrated, so you shut your mouth. Farleigh loved the feeling of control, especially after feeling like he had none recently. As you reach Farleigh's room, you immediately noticed the white powder spread across in a thin line across the brown wooden desk in his room. You take your hand away from his, pushing the door closed gently. As the door closes behind you, Farleigh breaks down, not even making it to his bed before his knees give out. Sobbing quietly with his back turned and his arm and head resting on the edge of the messy, unmade bed, his body jumping with every try to catch his breath.

You walk quickly to him, crouching down next to him, not worried about your skirt riding up, not around him. Rubbing your hand up and down his back, you gave him a minute to let it all out, to let all the tears out that couldn't be let out in the somewhat hostile situation of lunch.

"Farleigh..." Before you knew it, five minutes passed, and it seemed as if Farleigh's cries weren't faltering, still crying and sniffing at the intensity that he was when he started.

"Farleigh, darling please, breathe for me." He breathe's in wildly, his breath was so shaky, you thought that if he tried to breathe in properly, his lungs would explode. He finally lifts his head up, his face extremely red from crying and the lack of a proper breath. You cup his wet face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks, drying them as you do.

Instead of words, you do. You breathe in deeply, and Farleigh mocks you shakily, but he still does. You hold your breath for a minute before exhaling. With each inhale you take, he mirrors your breath again, and again, and again, until he returns to normal breathing.

You pull the wreck of a boy into a tight hug. He doesn't hug you back, but you don't mind. Pulling back, you kiss his cheeks and then his forehead, which seems to calm him down all together. A hiccup is heard coming from him and you can't help but giggle. The poor boy cried too hard to the point of hiccups.

"Thank you" Farleigh looks into your eyes as he says this, words sounding strange from the swelling of his sinuses and vocal cords. He looks down at his lap, sighing harshly before leaning his head against his bed, feeling his neck dampen from his own tears that stained the sheets.

"Here, let me get you a cold cloth." You stand up, traveling down the hall to the cold bathroom. It was a chilly day at Saltburn. You open the small closet next to the door, opening it to reveal a stack of purple, white, and beige washcloths. You grab a purple one and walk to the sink. As you turn on the sink, you run your fingers underneath the cold water, your fingers going numb as the water turns colder. You place the rag under the running water, letting it completely soak, the color of the cloth becoming a deep purple.

You turn off the water and squeeze the rag of the remaining water, unfolding it and letting it swing in the air, letting the chilly air make the rag colder. As you walk back down the hall, you were happy to hear silence. Happy to hear that Farleigh hadn't cried again. You walk into the doorway and see Farleigh still where you left him, with his head leaning back on the bed. You sit down next to him on your knees. The hardwood floors hurt, but it was all worth it for your sweet boy.

Placing a cool wet rag on his hot face felt like heaven for Farleigh. He sighed deeply as you pressed the rag to his face. You couldn't see his face, but you could tell he was smiling. His face cooled down quickly, and he soon exhaled harshly because of restricted air flow coming through his covered face. He was okay. And you were glad he was okay.

"What the fuck would I do without you?" His words come out muffled, nasally, and strained, but you still heard him. You pull the rag off his face and gently kiss his cheek for the third time.

"Probably suffer"

#farleigh start #saltburn #archie madekwe #farleigh start x reader #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #felix catton #oliver quick #farleigh start x fem reader #farleigh start x you #farleigh imagine #saltburn imagine #farleigh x reader

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aniharas · 2 months

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skinnydipping with felix catton...

drabble warnings: explicit language, sexual content, exhibitionism(?), mention of drugs

...was not on your to-do list this summer. sure, you knew your boyfriend was the embodiment of reckless fun, and that’s why you liked him. unfortunately, this meant many rudely awoken mornings and no opportunities to sleep in. you would whine every time he yanked the covers off of you, though you didn’t complain. the summer heat during your stay at saltburn was no joke.

at first, you always questioned why he always seemed to want to do those things in the morning. felix would always scoff, saying his family was unbearable since you were the first girl he brought home. early morning was the best time to avoid them. surely saltburn was big enough for you both to find a secluded place for some privacy, right?

his claims about his family would be proven right. mrs. catton would always helicopter the both of you whenever you were outside; she even caught you straddling felix at the heart of the hedge maze. mr. catton was always lurking in the castle. doing anything with felix at night would mean that farleigh would find out, and his ears seemed to pick up everything. you’d only get lucky with venetia around, at times being too inebriated to care or even notice.

felix would always wake you up the same, his large hands smoothing up the curves of your body before he’d climb on top of you. “mornin’,” he’d coo in your ear, thumb stroking your cheek. “got a surprise for you. maids’ve left you some breakfast. meet me by the lake.” the surprises would range from watching the sunrise to having a romp in the vast fields as you licked coke off his abs. needless to say, you were ready to expect anything. at least, you thought you were.

he would leave you to eat your breakfast, but not before planting a hungry kiss to your lips, muttering “don’t be late” as he squeezed your ass gently. you’d quickly scarf down your food, throwing on light clothing so you weren’t absolutely drenched in your own sweat as you ran to meet him.

and today, he stood on the walkway by the lake with that stupid grin on his face, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. two bicycles were parked on either side of him. “snagged the good ones,” he bragged, obviously proud of the achievement.

at first, you thought, ‘really? biking at 8 in the morning?’ but it was only when felix eagerly pushed one bike your way that you thought, maybe it wasn’t so bad as long as he was this happy.

and you were right. you and felix cycled around almost the entire perimeter of saltburn, sweat trickling down your foreheads and backs as the both of you endlessly chatted about what shenanigans happened in the castle the day prior. sometimes, he’d shout, “race you!”, and then take off speeding without even giving you time to react. of course, you wouldn’t indulge him in his competitive fetish, but it left you giggling every time.

after a while, the both of you ended up back at the small lake you had rendezvoused at just before 11 am. the sweat had thoroughly soaked through the white tank top you had thrown on that day, the transparency revealing the skin underneath. maybe you shouldn’t have skipped on wearing your training bra. as the both of you panted to catch your breath, felix’s gaze locked onto your chest, eyes darkening the longer he looked. then, he instantly threw off his shirt while begging you to get in.

“come on then, how else are we gonna cool off?” “felix, i can’t. i...don’t have anything under.” “n’ you think i can’t see that? just take it off, darling. i’ll strip too. get your knickers off.”

you were shy as you cautiously stripped off your clothes, felix teasing you every so often as he’s “already seen it all before”. he had all of his clothes off before you could even protest, wading into the water.

he was sweet and caring as he guided you into the cold, refreshing water, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. he laughed at the way your teeth chattered at the feeling of the water enveloping your bare body. although the water was shallow, you still gripped onto his frame tightly to hide your chest.

at first, the both of you just swam about, getting into major splash fights and once again, felix initiating his one-sided races against you. when you finally caught up to him, he scooped you up into his arms, leaving you giggling relentlessly.

it was only then you felt a warm, tingling feeling in your abdomen as you wrapped your legs around him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. he tasted like tobacco and remnants of the lake water, the taste becoming more and more prominent as his lips began to devour yours.

he was always the handsy type while making out, not missing a beat as he ran his hands all over your slick body, massaging and squeezing at all your right spots. that’s what you liked about him too, he always remembered how make you melt into him, even more than the summer heat.

the makeout sessions usually didn’t last long, and that proved to be true once again as he held you tight and carried you out of the water. the immediate bite of cold that hit was immeasurable to the heat radiating off of his bare, toned body. your heat brushed against him with each step he took, leaving you whining in his ear, begging for him to let you take him.

felix was never one to waste time, sprawling you out on the grassy shore, before immediately burying his face into your cunt. his tongue always worked wonders for you, but today it felt different. maybe it was the way the warmth of his tongue was so mind boggling after the dip in the lake, maybe it was the tension that was building the longer you swam naked together. regardless, it had you squeezing your thighs around his head, fingers desperately tugging at his soft, brunette locks as his name tumbled from your lips.

he’d groan in response, the vibration surging from his plush lips against your heat so deliciously, a string of curses left your mouth as you threw your head back. he lapped at your folds relentlessly, navigating you with such ease that made you wonder if he knew your body better than you did. the tip of his tongue flicked torturously at your clit, leaving you writhing about just the same way you would if you were in the castle’s finest bed sheets. with felix, it always felt so good, dare you say better each time. it was something you never wanted to grow used to or tired of.

and the way felix stretched you out was something you knew you’d never tire of. his relentless gait rocked your body up and down, leaving your eyes to roll back up into your head with the warm pleasure that spread through your whole body. it was only then that he finally spoke between his grunts, his words, just like before, caring and guiding. “that’s it, baby.” “you’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well.” “keep sayin’ my name babe– just like that.”

you always knew that the moment you looked in his eyes and cried out his name in a way you only knew how, he’d come undone. this time, he let out a strained cry of your name, spilling thick spurts of his seed inside you, overflowing from your cunt almost as if he hadn’t been fucking you every day. you shortly followed, your walls gripping him so tightly as your orgasm left you convulsing.

felix collapsed on top of you just like he had done this morning, the remnants of lake water falling from his hair and onto your neck as he rested his head in the valley of your cleavage. the both of you watched as a stream of your combined fluids traveled from between your legs and down towards the lake, weaving between the strands of flattened grass before it dripped into the murky water. he went back to stroking your face, the lull of your heartbeat easing his own.

“shit– that was inside, huh?” “yeah. i’m on the pill, it’s alright.” “since when?” “your mum slipped me some when i first got here.” “...this family’s fuckin' embarrassing.”

a/n: first time for felix AND first time posting a drabble! ik its a bit long for a drabble but its a lot shorter and different than what i'm used to writing. thank u to miss @loveliestlovelygirl for the drabble idea. ur mind is unmatched. i hope you all enjoy! likes , reblogs , and ur thoughts r appreciated :) inbox is open for any requests!!

masterlist.

#felix catton #saltburn #fem!reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton x reader smut #felix catton smut #farleigh start #elsbeth catton #venetia catton #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x reader smut #jacob elordi smut #felix catton drabble #jacob elordi drabble

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nataliesfirefly · 2 months

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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 2

a/n: omg thank you all so much for the love on part 1!! i really appreciate it, i didn't think anyone would even see it haha! anyways this chapter is a lil longer but i had a lot of fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy!

word count: 3.5k

part 1, part 3, part 4

warnings: slight angst, language

You and Venetia sit in one of the many living rooms, watching TV as she braids your hair. It’s been a few days since your arrival, and you were enjoying the break from the cruel outside world.

You planned on getting Felix to drive you down to your parents’ house in London soon, just to visit. You didn’t want to completely leave them in the dust, and you hadn’t seen them since Christmas break. If you were being honest, you missed them, and you have a lot to tell them about your second year at Oxford.

“So, when are you going to visit your parents?” Venetia asks as she continues plaiting your hair.

“I think tomorrow, actually.” You reply, glancing down at your hands as you pick at your nails, a nervous habit.

“Nice. Is Felix going with you?” She questions. “Yeah, I’m going to try to get him to drive me so I don’t have to take a cab.” You respond. “I’m sure he will,” She says. You nod softly.

“You know, I’m really glad Felix found a friend like you. Not some girl just desperate to fuck him.” Venetia says quietly, out of the blue. It seems totally random, but you needed that. A reminder for why you’re even here when you clearly don’t belong.

“You keep him in check, you know? You’re a really good influence,” She ties off your braid with a hairtie and you turn around to face her.

“Really?” You ask, blushing at the compliment. “Yeah. I mean it, love.” She grins and throws her arms around you, embracing you in a hug. You smile into her shoulder as you hug her back.

She pulls away. “But have you, like, ever considered dating him?”

You’re taken aback by the question. Have you? You try to think back on the past four years of knowing Felix Catton.

Sure, the first time you met him, you thought he was slightly attractive. But thoughts of dating him or even getting close to him romantically never crossed your mind.

“No. Never,” You shake your head. “Okay, what about… Farleigh?”

Your stomach drops and you shake your head aggressively. “No. No, we like, hate each other.” You chuckle slightly at the absurdity of her question. “Why, though?” She asks. “I see the way he looks at you. I don’t think he hates you,”

She must be insane. She’s imagining things, or romanticizing things like she always does.

“Seriously, Vee?” You shake your head and facepalm. “What?! I don’t know, you’d make a good couple.” She giggles and shoves you playfully. “No, we wouldn’t.”

“Who?” You flinch at the deep voice coming from behind you. You look over your shoulder to see Farleigh walking in with a cigarette in his hand, as per usual.

He sits down in a chair near the couch and takes a long drag from the cigarette. “No one.” You quickly say, narrowing your eyes at him.

“This guy I was telling her about, I was saying they would look good together,” Venetia explains, and you turn to look at her with wide eyes. Why was she lying? Maybe to test her theory, to see if Farleigh got jealous.

Farleigh scoffs. “What guy?” He asks, and you wonder why he’s intrigued. “Just one of my friends,” She waves her hand like it’s not important.

“Well, if he’s awkward and inexperienced, they’ll make a great match.” Farleigh says. You turn back to him and you can already feel your anger brewing. “Who said I was awkward and inexperienced?” You ask, confusion written all over your face.

“Like, everyone.” He smiles mockingly. “I’m not.” You cross your arms and look down, your face hot with embarrassment.

“Hell, even Felix was talking about it a few weeks ago.” Your eyes snap back up to him as he blows some smoke from his mouth. The words hang in the silent air for a moment.

“What?” Your voice comes out weak. “Yeah, he was saying he only hangs out with you because he feels bad. I mean, think about it. You come from a middle class family, you’re a broke scholarship student… Felix only hangs out with people on the same level as him. You’re just an exception, I guess.” He shrugs even though everything he just said has made your stomach begin to churn and your heart begin to race.

“Use that pretty brain of yours,” He points at you with his cigarette, smirking as you stare into space, trying to process what he just told you.

“Farleigh.” Venetia warns, shaking her head. She places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure that’s not true. Farleigh’s just a little shit stirrer. He gets off on that,” She rolls her eyes at him.

“No, it’s true. He has this savior complex. This happens all the time, you’re just the only one that happened to stick around. Like a little lost puppy, following him around, cause you have nowhere else to go. You just want this life so bad, don’t you?” He continues, his tone seeping with hatred.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you really don’t want to cry in front of Farleigh. Or Venetia, for that matter. You look around, then stand up and walk out of the room and up the spiraling staircase.

You can hear Venetia scolding Farleigh as you run up the stairs. You eventually storm into your room and shut the door, flopping onto your bed as you begin to sob.

Was it really true? Your whole friendship with Felix was out of pity?

No.

~~~

4 YEARS EARLIER

You couldn’t sleep. It was certainly past midnight, you figured. You had been trying to sleep for the past two hours.

Something about this mansion made you feel small and inferior, like you were an imposter. You were, in a way. You didn’t belong. It was taking you a while to get used to the exuberant settings and all the formalities.

As you stared up at your ceiling, you figured some fresh air might help. You grabbed a sweatshirt and threw it over yourself, slipping on your sandals and walking downstairs and out one of the back doors to the courtyard.

You could swear there was someone sitting on the steps. You squinted and you could make out a head of curls and a very small light, a flame. No, a cigarette flame.

You walked closer and grinned as Farleigh turned to you, flinching a bit.

“Why are you out here?” He asked, his face only illuminated by the ghostly moonlight. “I could ask you the same thing,” You replied, standing over him.

“Can I sit?” You asked. He nodded reluctantly. You sat down and hugged your waist in an attempt to stay warm.

You glanced up at him as he sighed, letting some smoke float out into the air. “You have a smoking problem,” You remarked.

“It’s not a problem. Most people smoke, you know.” He rolled his eyes. “At sixteen?” You asked. “Well, I’m almost seventeen. But yeah,” He nodded and took another drag from it.

“Well, I’ll be waiting for the day when your lungs stop working.” You shot back, grinning at your own statement. “Oookay,” He let out another long sigh as he looked out at the courtyard.

There was a long moment of silence between the two of you. You gazed up at the stars in the clear sky above you, like glitter scattered across a page of black ink. It was peaceful and delicate.

Eventually, Farleigh broke the silence. “You know, I like you a lot more when you keep your mouth shut,”

You rolled your eyes and glanced over at him. “I don’t even talk that much.” You observed the smile he was trying to hide and you nudged him playfully.

“I see you trying not to smile,” You giggled and the smile tugging at his lips broke out into a grin. You poked him in the arm. “You act all tough. Why?”

His smile faded and he looked back out at the long stretch of grass. “Not sure.” His voice was distant and uncertain. This was the one time he was ever going to let his guard down, you thought to yourself. Maybe it was because he thought you were just a one time guest that he would never see again.

You two ended up talking for about a half hour, discussing the most random things. But for some reason, it was one of the best conversations you had in a while. You had a lot more in common than you thought.

You think you ended up dozing off on the steps with him, but you woke up the next morning in your bed. You’re not exactly sure how that happened.

Of course, the next morning at breakfast he acted like he was offput by your presence alone, but you knew what happened the night before wasn’t a dream. It was real, and you knew that when you looked deep into his warm brown eyes.

~~~

The next day, you wake up early to make yourself look somewhat presentable, despite your puffy eyelids from all the crying you did the night before. You put on some light makeup and a white sundress.

Although you didn’t want to face Felix, you needed a ride to your parents’. You head to Felix’s room after putting some shoes on, knocking on his door.

“Felix,” You call out, knowing he’s probably still sleeping. With no response, you knock harder. “Felix!” You call, slightly louder than the first time.

You hear a loud groan and his bed shifting. “What, mate? Who is it?” He asks. “It’s me,” You reply, staring at the door expectantly.

You hear him shuffling around before his footsteps get louder and the door swings open. His brown hair is messier than usual and his eyes seem to be half open as he studies your appearance.

“What’s the special occasion?” He asks, leaning up against the doorframe as he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Well, I actually have a favor to ask,” You respond, trying to ignore all the thoughts about what Farleigh said last night creeping back into your mind.

“What’s that?” Felix tilts his head curiously. “I was wondering if you could drive me to my parents’ house today. I wanted to visit. Just for the day, you know.” You smile up at him.

He seems caught off guard, and then his expression looks pained. “Oh, you know what? I totally would, but there’s this thing happening in London today. A lot of our friends from Oxford are going to be there, why don’t we just go to your parents’ another day?” He suggests.

You feel disappointment hit you like a tidal wave. Is this what Farleigh was talking about?

“Our friends? You mean your friends.” You correct him, suddenly feeling the emotions from last night spilling over. “Well, they’d be happy to see you, I’m sure-” “You can’t just do this one thing for me?” You interrupt him.

He looks at you, dumbfounded. “It’s not a big deal, why can’t you just get a cab?” His words cut through you. Not a big deal.

“You know what, nevermind.” You shake your head and hold up your hands. You turn and begin walking down the hall.

“I do a lot of things for you, you know!” Felix shouts after you, and you’ve never heard that tone of anger in his voice. He’s always been so kind, so considerate. He used to jump at the chance to help you with something. Now maybe you knew why.

On your way downstairs, you run into the last person you needed to see in this moment.

Farleigh stops in his tracks when he sees you. He looks up at you from the lower steps, probably noticing your distressed state.

“What’s your problem?” He asks, smirking lightheartedly like it’s another one of his jokes. “Farleigh, I don’t need your little comments right now,” You sigh in exasperation and continue down the stairs, pushing him out of your way.

“Woah, did something happen with you and Felix?” He turns around and follows you out of curiosity. “No. I just-” You realize a possible solution to your problem, but you would rather throw yourself out of a window than spend nearly two hours in a car with Farleigh.

“You can drive, right?” You turn around to face him once you reach the bottom of the stairs. “Yes… Why?” He narrows his eyes and peers down at you. “Okay, I was trying to ask Felix if he could drive me to my parents’ house today. He obviously said he was too busy for that, so… Can you just drive me?” You look up at him, crossing your fingers behind your back.

The corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk. “Sorry, you’re asking me for a favor?” He chuckles under his breath and raises his eyebrows. “Fuck. Yes, okay?!” You facepalm and wish you had never said something. Now he’s going to tease you over it for the next week or so.

He steps closer and leans down slightly, although you still have to look up at him. “Say please,” He says tauntingly.

You roll your eyes while heat creeps up onto your face. “Please,” You say quietly. “Sorry, I didn’t really hear it,” He leans even closer and you look away. This is why you can’t ask Farleigh for help. Ever.

“Please.” You hate how pitiful and desperate you sound. He seems satisified, so he steps back and stands up straight again. “Alright. Let’s go then, shall we?” You want to strangle him as you follow him out the door.

It’s sweltering outside. You groan. “Oh my God, so hot…” You shake your head and look up at the sun almost already in the middle of the sky.

“What do you say, should we steal his truck?” Farleigh eyes Felix’s truck and nods his head towards it. You know it’s wrong, and he probably will need it later tonight to get to London, but his truck doesn’t have a roof and it would be nice to feel a breeze…

Fuck it. “Do you even have the keys?” You ask, walking over to the truck. Farleigh holds up Felix’s keys to the truck. You cover your mouth and giggle, feeling like you’re back in fifth grade, playing a stupid prank on someone.

You open the door to the passenger’s side and hop in while Farleigh does the same, turning one of the keys and starting the engine.

“So, what was his excuse?” He questions as he puts the truck in reverse and pulls out of the gravel driveway. He stretches an arm over to place his hand on the back of your headrest, shifting to see over his shoulder. You watch him closely as he does all this.

“Uhm.. This thing in London today. Apparently a bunch of Oxford students are going. Were you planning on going?” You reply, biting your lip as he moved the truck into drive.

Recognition flashes across his face. “Oh. I told him I would go with him, but.. I didn’t really want to anyway,” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Farleigh Start, passing up the opportunity to go to a social gathering?” You gasp sarcastically.

“We spent a whole year with those people. I’d rather not go all the way to London just to see them after what, like, a few weeks?” You squint to look over at him in the sun.

“But you’re driving almost the same distance to my parents,” You raise an eyebrow. He takes a moment to respond, almost like he’s trying to come up with an excuse.

“This is different. You asked me for a favor and I didn’t have anything else to do. It’s not personal.” He glances over at you. His lighter curls that are usually hidden are now illuminated in the golden sunlight.

“I mean, you did have plans with Felix.” You look back out to the road stretched ahead of you and the trees with vibrant green leaves blowing gently in the breeze.

“Okay, do you want me to keep driving?” He glares at you and your remarks. You bite back the smile threatening to form on your face. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” You look down and adjust the skirt of your dress.

After about two hours, you see the sign that tells you you are about to enter the small town where you formed many fond memories.

“This isn’t bad,” Farleigh admits as he slows down to round the upcoming bend. “What, did you think I lived in the slums or something?” You laugh a bit at his remark before staring out the window and admiring the familiar surroundings.

“Maybe.” You can hear the smile in his voice. This is nice, you think to yourself. Maybe you two can actually get along.

“Okay, it’s gonna be the third house to your right.” You tell him. It’s a townhouse, not very big, but quaint and cozy. The walls are old brick and the windows are thin with white frames, and some shrubs grow on either side of the staircase leading up to the front door.

He pulls over next to the sidewalk and puts the truck in park. You undo your seatbelt and open the door, pausing to look over at Farleigh.

You notice he is still just sitting there and staring straight ahead, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the wheel.

“Hey, you can come along, you know,” You say softly. He looks over at you, his expression seeming a bit shocked. He raises his eyebrows.

“Really? You want me to meet your parents?” He smirks and you register his joke. “Oh, shut up.”

“C’mon, I don’t want you to have to just sit out here. This might take a while,” You explain, gesturing for him to come with you.

“Alright, I guess.” He shrugs and you both get out of the truck. You lead, walking up the stairs and breathing in the scent of the plants and the summer air.

You knock on the door and wait patiently. The door opens and you are greeted by your mother. She exclaims your name joyfully and embraces you in a hug.

“Honey, I didn’t know you were coming!” She pulls away to get a good look at you. You observe her. She looks tired. “I thought I would stop by,” You grin brightly.

“You just get prettier every day,” She hugs you again. “Who’s this?” She asks, noticing Farleigh, who is waiting below on the steps.

“This is Farleigh. I needed a ride, and Felix wasn’t available. This is his cousin,” You step to the side, allowing Farleigh to walk up and shake your mom’s hand.

“Oh, nice to meet you!” She shakes his hand, looking up at him. “You’re tall,” She laughs a bit, taken aback by his height.

Farleigh chuckles a bit. “Nice to meet you, Miss.” He dips his head politely. He’s so fake to adults, you think to yourself. “Ah, a fellow American,” She glances at you with a smile. “Yes ma’am,” Farleigh nods.

“Please, come inside,” She opens the door wider and steps back to let you both in. Farleigh has to duck to fit through the door.

You walk into the small living room and sit on your favorite couch. You see Farleigh observing all the pictures framed on the wall of when you were little. You hear him snicker slightly.

“Where’s Dad?” You ask. Your mom has already entered the kitchen and is pouring some hot tea into some cups.

“He’s at work,” She replies. “On a Saturday?” You ask. Usually your dad got work off on Saturdays.

“Yep. He’s been working hard lately, trying to make some extra money.” Your mom explains as Farleigh walks over to sit with you on the couch.

She walks over and sets the tea cups down on the coffee table. “Thank you,” Farleigh smiles at her and takes one of them. You follow suit.

It feels intimate, in a way. Farleigh meeting your mother and being inside the home you spent many years in. You aren’t sure if you could consider it a childhood home, since you only spent your teenage years here.

Your mom sits down across from you two in her usual chair. “So, tell me all about school. How were exams?” She asks,

You spend the next few hours just talking. Farleigh is surprisingly very conversational, and he seems to be enjoying himself. All three of you are laughing and sharing stories. Your mom even prepares a nice lunch for you two.

After today, you feel like you’ve learned more about Farleigh than you ever knew before. He’s almost bearable when he’s nice like this, and maybe it really is genuine.

“Well, we should probably start heading back,” You say, standing up from the couch. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll tell Dad you stopped by.” She smiles softly.

And then before you know it, you’re back in the truck with Farleigh, beginning your journey back.

#farleigh start #farleigh saltburn #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x you #saltburn

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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

Text

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue

{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }

Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.

{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?

Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.

A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)

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

----

One hour and fifty three minutes.

Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.

Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.

One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.

He can do a lot in two hours.

Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.

Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.

Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.

So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.

Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.

On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.

Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.

And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.

And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.

"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.

"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.

Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.

"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.

And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.

"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.

"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.

There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.

Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.

Two hours.

Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.

There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.

From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.

On the back, he'd written '12:07'.

"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.

The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.

With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.

And it's not Felix's grandmother.

"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.

Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.

"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.

"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"

"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.

"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.

Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.

It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.

Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.

"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.

"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.

"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"

"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.

Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.

"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.

"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."

"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.

"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."

Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.

Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.

"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."

"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.

"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -

"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"

Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.

"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"

"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"

Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.

"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."

Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.

"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"

"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.

They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.

"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.

"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.

"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.

"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.

Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.

"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.

"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"

Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.

"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.

"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.

"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.

"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."

"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.

"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."

Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.

But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.

"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.

And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.

He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.

He knew you were dying.

He'd left you alive.

Two hours.

The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.

"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.

"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.

He nods again.

"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.

You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.

"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.

In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.

"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.

"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"

"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"

"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.

"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.

"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.

"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"

"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.

"What?"

"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.

"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.

He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.

Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.

Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.

Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.

Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.

Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.

The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.

He should have listened.

"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.

"'course Felix, what is it?"

Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.

"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.

"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.

"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"

Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.

"Felix, I-"

"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"

Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -

"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.

In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -

"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."

This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.

"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.

Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.

Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -

"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.

"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."

The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.

"Just send me away already," he drops his head.

"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.

"Yes."

Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.

"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."

At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.

It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.

There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.

Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.

Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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backtothefanfiction · 3 months

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Hiii! i love your writing 😘 if your ok with writing this could i request some fluffy dad!felix catton if you have any in store?! again, totally understand if your uncomfortable writing this or just don’t want to 😊😊

It’s taken me a while to get to this because I’ve been struggling to find my way in when it comes to Felix as a Dad. I’m not sure if I do have a Dad!Felix fluff in me but I do have some thoughts/head canons on Felix as a Dad as a whole I’m slowly developing. So here are those…

Felix is all in in the newborn stage. It’s a novelty for him. The easy stage before they find their voices and start screaming the place down. When all you have to do is hold them, feed them, change them. He’s so there for that.

He’s happy to get up in the middle of the night, looking out the windows at the grounds with a baby in his arms, telling stories and recounting memories of his youth and that time running around the grounds with Farleigh and Venetia.

He loves see you with HIS child. He’s very protective. While you lie in his bed with tea and toast, feeding your child he shoos everyone else from the room, not wanting to share that sight or special time with anyone else in the family. Venetia is the only one who occasionally slips through the cracks. (She is a great aunt to your child by the way)

When the baby starts to grow older though he begins to struggle. You are a very hands on parent in comparison to him and he’s happy for you to be. After all his mother was very hands on with him and Venetia, however as a child he never saw his Dad there as much as his Mum and so has adopted a similar way of thinking that of his father and grandfather that fussing kids is a Mother problem.

Don’t get me wrong, he still loves showing up to be the fun dad. Running across the lawns with them. Enabling their hobbies and paying for anything they want. But when it comes to the hard stuff you feel completely abandoned.

As time goes on you realise you aren’t on the same wave length about parenting at all. And a lot of that has to do with Felix’s upbringing and family.

Elspeth is always there to step in and make a fuss, forcing herself on her grandchildren like she makes everything better, but often (especially if a child is already in a tantrum state it can sometimes make it worse until she just hands the child back and leaves you with a screaming child.

When Felix’s mates come knocking, asking him to go on golfing or skiing holidays with them it’s always “you’ve got this, haven’t you babe? Great. I love you. See you in a week.”

And because that’s how Felix was raised, what he observed from his family over the years, he honestly knows no better.

“If you’re struggling we can just get a Nanny.” He says when you confront him. It always has you seeing red. “I don’t want a Nanny Felix. I want US to raise our kids.”

You realise the only way things will change is if you all get out of that house and away from his family. So you give him the ultimatum: “it’s either us or your family.”

Of course it’s that honour in him, that unspoken traditional allegiance to your wife and kids that has him reluctantly agreeing, hoping in a few months you’ll see sense and see how difficult it is without all the servants and his daddy’s money. But you thrive, despite the way Felix shuffles his feet and does the bare minimum in protest.

After another argument where you tell him to show up or fuck off back to his family he finally takes you seriously and the more time he spends with you and your family and more modest hands on parenting and living styles he begins to thrive, seeing that the grass can be greener on the other side.

The more time away from his family he sees how toxic his families dynamic is. When you visit he sticks up for his kids and is protective of them when his parents begin to push their values and views on his kids.

You stand by him as he begins to put in boundaries and really analyse his life, his youth, his privilege and how it has in fact hindered him in life in so many basic ways. You support him and feel pride when he helps enforce those boundaries around his parents, his family as he ultimately gives them the same ultimatum you gave him all those years ago.

Although his father is reluctant, Elspeth is desperate to know her grandchildren and apologised to you both and promises to respect your parenting choices and swears to try and uphold those values in front of your children as much as she can.

With the new boundaries in place, summers in Saltburn become regular things for your kids. All of you playing together on the grounds. Chasing each other through the maze. Swimming in the pool and the lake.You and Felix set up scavenger hunts for your kids. And they ultimately grow up with the best of both worlds.

So yeah. Those are my more realistic Dad Felix thoughts. Tell me what you think….

#felix catton imagine #dad!felix #Felix Catrin #Felix catton x reader #dad!felix x reader #felix catton fluff #Felix catton headcanons #saltburn #saltburn imagines #saltburn x reader

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stvolanis · 3 months

Text

Hearts & Kisses

(I have multiple asks in my inbox for Farleigh x Plus size! Reader, so here y’all go!!)

PAIRINGS: Farleigh Start x Fem! Plus size! Reader

WARNINGS: foul language, body dysmorphia,slight angst, emotional reader, crying, mentions of blood, fluff, Farleigh being a sweetheart, pet names, use of the word “fat”, people are fucking rude

NSFW WARNINGS: sub!reader, soft Dom!Farleigh, praise, body worship but in a cutesy way, slight perv!Farleigh, slight nipple play, emotional sex, groping, making out, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, overall cute sex

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Your whole life, it feels as though the world was somehow molded to revolve around your weight. It was like the people around you didn’t allow you to have any other kind of personality rather than just being “the fat friend”, to put it bluntly.

Venetia was your best friend, but even she, sometimes, made you upset when it came to that aspect.

Like when she’d complain to you about how she was gaining weight, and needed to start counting her calories again. Or when something wouldn’t fit her the way she wanted it to cause of the faintest chub of her stomach, which honestly suited her petite body.

Having lived in her shadow, it was no surprise that every man you’ve ever liked, ended up liking Venetia instead. It was easier to like Venetia. She was pretty, skinny, outgoing, the whole package deal in the form of a raging she-demon. Any man would be dumb to pass up any offer Venetia laid to them.

She comforted you, of course, and knew of your insecurities and struggles you faced of being bigger than some. She tried her best to make you feel better about it, in her own odd Venetia way, and you loved her dearly for that—but it just wasn’t enough. You longed for men to look at you the way they did her.

You knew you shouldn’t have, but sometimes you wished Venetia was the token “fat friend”. Even if it were just for a day, so she could truly understand what it was like being in your shoes. Maybe then she wouldn’t tell you that you were over exaggerating when you cried over gaining 3 more pounds.

You were tired of the look on old, decaying couples faces when you’d be sitting at a restaurant. The clear look of judgment, disgust and hostility written all over their faces when you’d order food of your choice. You knew what they were thinking without them even having to say it. It made you feel like shit.

You stopped eating in restaurants, and in front of people in general. You order all your clothes online to save the embarrassment of having to feel the disappointment of not being able to fit into something, while prying eyes mock and belittle you till you exit.

You were tired of living the life you lived. Tired of the body you had. Tired of every little imperfection and flaw that you had.

The mirror was your worst enemy, a constant reminder. A vision flashes through the eyes that stare back at you of the life you wanted. Happy. Rich. Popular. Married, with a plethora of beautiful children who you prayed never had to go through your struggles.

You were so focused, so concerned with the hatred you held for the body you were given—that you didn’t even stop to think for even just a moment, that maybe, there was someone out there who adored every part of you.

Farleigh Start, being one of them.

From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s loved you ever since.

From afar, he watched you in Venetias shadow—seemingly the only one who’s ever seen you. From tears falling down at the party, being the saddest person in the crowded room; to watching the way you avoided mirrors in the Saltburn mansion like they were the plague. How sad you were, was a trait he could easily tell.

He knew what your troubles were, it wasn’t hard to figure out. He just wished you saw yourself through his eyes, and maybe then you’d understand just how beautiful you were.

You were funny, and so beautiful; definitely more beautiful than his bimbo of a cousin. You were smart, which he took notice of when he saw you reading a damn book rather than engaging in a valentines party back at Oxford. He seen your scores, and knew you took school seriously. A scholarship girl, through and through. But he thought it was cute.

There was never a flaw in you, and he only ever saw you for what you were; a genuine, caring and sweet person. Never did he pay mind to what everyone else so blatantly gawked at, acting as if they’d never seen a plus size person. How ignorant of them, he’d always say. How vile.

Tonight was special, a welcome to the new boy that Felix brought home from Oxford—Oliver, was his name. A peculiar boy, to Farleigh, but an easy friend to you.

You sat down on the far end of the couch, picking at the skin around your nails absentmindedly while the others around you drank wine from the bottle, singing a song you didn’t care to listen to. Every once and a while you’d look up at Venetia, just to find her giving you the thumbs up as she took one of her playthings for the night to her chambers with a dorky smile.

Farleigh watched you from across the room. Always from across the room, never close enough for you to realize he was ever even there. You complained about being in Venetias shadow, yet Farleigh basked in yours.

You wished that men would look at you. To spare you the time of day rather than just a polite smile. But Farleigh was the one who longed for you to look at him that way. He longed for you to look at him as more than just a friend, or an admirer—he wanted you to look at him as if you were lovers.

The night was still young, as were you and Farleigh. He had been planning his approach for at least a month, finally deciding to act on his need for you. So, he watched your doe eyes watch him walk towards you with a lump in his throat. Nervous.

“Farleigh.” You greeted—the warmth and familiarity of your voice filling his ears like a melodic symphony. It was slick like honey, and gentle like a dove in midnight air. “Hey.” he fumbled out after an awkward moment of silence. You smiled.

God, that fucking smile. Anything you wanted, would be yours if you promised to smile at him like that forever. It made his knees weak—weak enough for him to take his place comfortably next to you at the end of the couch.

“How are you?” He asked, staring into your eyes, waiting for a response. You hummed as you looked down at the slightly bleeding skin around your manicured nails. “I’ve been alright.” You lied, casting your eyes up to meet his.

The glint in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. He nodded in understanding, glancing down at his hands that were nervously clamped together with sweat, which he wiped on his slacks. “You look—“ he said, before he cleared his throat from imperfections, “you look beautiful, Y/N.” He smiled.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. The words you wanted to hear slipping past his lips made your walls come crumbling down. Was it finally your turn? Your turn at a chance of happiness? It couldn’t be. This must’ve been a joke. A sick prank he was playing on you with his friends probably laughing somewhere in the room.

Your brows furrowed and Farleigh saw the clear distaste on your face begin to form. “I-“ he started, but didn’t get to finish as he watched you get up and storm out of the room.

Farleigh, in a confused haze, chased after you as you paced to your room with tears in your eyes. He shouted your name from behind you, but you didn’t dare to stop and look back till you felt his hand capture your wrist gently, pulling you to stop your fast pace.

“What’s wrong? I—w-was it something I said? Or—” he rambled on desperately. Your eyes danced across his features with resentment. “You makin’ fun of me? Huh? You think I don’t know that I’m a fucking joke already? Leave me the fuck alone, Farleigh!” You yelled out through tears.

His mouth hung agape as he shook his head in a ‘no’ manner. “W-what? What are you talking about?” He asked, waiting for an answer. You sniffled, rubbing your eyes with your free hand. “You’re making fun of me, Farleigh. Why? I thought you were different.” You huffed out.

He paused for a moment, processing just exactly what you were accusing him of, before he gives you a certain look. A look that screams ‘what the fuck?’, because seriously, what the fuck are you talking about?

“I would never do that to you. Get that out of your head. I meant what I said.” He stated, his hand moving from your wrist to hold your hand firmly. “I like you.” He professed. “I’ve liked you since I met you at Oxford. I don’t know why you think so lowly of yourself—to the point where you convince yourself that you’re not worthy of love or a happy life.” He said, matter of factly.

“You deserve a happy life and more. You deserve the fucking world at your feet. The stars and the moon. You deserve the sun and the planets that orbit it. You deserve everything you want and more, so don’t you dare fucking think for a second any less, you hear me?” He said, his hands cupping your face, forcing eye contact.

That was all it took to have you sobbing in his arms, your body flush against his. “So I’ll say it again, and as many times as I have to until you finally fucking believe me.” He kissed he top of your head as he held you close, your body shaking against his. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured out.

He lead you into your room, softly shutting the door behind the both of you. He watched you curl up on the edge of your bed, rubbing at your weeping eyes. Your little sniffles broke his heart, but he was determined to change this. To change the way you saw yourself.

He stood above you, a singular hand tilting your chin up to face him. “Let me show you just how beautiful you are.” His voice barely above a whisper, in a hopeful tone. You hesitated, for only a moment, before giving in with a nod. “I need words, honey.” He said, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Please.” You whispered back. He nodded, taking off his button down shirt, revealing his toned chest and stomach. His v-line was deep, and his happy trail prominent with faint curls. He moved to take your shirt off, but you stopped him.

“I—I don’t..” you said, your eyes unable to meet his. He sighed, dropping to his knees to become eye level with you. He held your face in his hands like he did before with a small smile. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” He reassured. You let out a sigh, nodding at him as a signal that it was okay.

His large hands met the hem of your shirt, sliding it up till it was over your shoulders, and onto the floor beneath you. He laid soft kisses against the top of your breasts, nipples hidden behind a bra. His hands traveled behind you, unclamping your bra, letting it slide off of your arms, landing next to your shirt.

“Perfect.” He mumbled against you. His mouth trialed to your nipple, sucking and licking at it to his hearts content. Your perk, sensitive bud was aching in his mouth, and you released a small mewl when you felt his teeth graze over it just barely biting down. He released your nipple with a loud pop before his tongue found its way to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other.

His hand groped at the breast his mouth was lapping at previously, gently pinching and pulling at your nipples. He released the nipple his mouth was working at with a loud pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your bud.

He gazed down at you with such admiration. It sent heat throughout your body, from the blushing of your cheeks down to your neck, and then down further more as you clenched around nothing as he laid peppery kisses to your stomach.

He traced absentmindedly around your stretch marks before planting a delicate kiss on a few of them. He kissed down till he was met with your pants, unbuttoning them agonizingly slow. When he finally slid them down your legs and onto the floor, he spread your legs open.

He gawked at the way your meaty flesh were plump through his fingers as he squeezed down on your meaty thighs. He licked and sucked at every inch of skin he could get his mouth on, sufficiently leavings a series of vampire-like hickies shamelessly on your inner thighs, only for him to see.

The prominent wet patch on your panties had his cock feel like it was suffocating in its confinements. You were insufferable; a walking, living, breathing temptation. With every innocent movement, the fat of your ass jiggled. It’s all he would watch when you’d walk in front of him, or past him and he’d have to break his neck to see.

The way your breasts bounced no matter what kind of shirt you were wearing. God, he had to go rub one out like a pervert one time because you decided to prance around in a flimsy tube top, nipples poking through on display. The self restraint he had held with you was absolutely mind boggling, yet he managed.

He was doing good, too. Up until now, when he finally had you. Your face was flushed red, all the way down to your neck. Your nipples perked and hard, craving more of his undivided attention. his finger found your panties, sliding it to the side, watching as your juices all but dripped out of your needy cunt.

“Fuckkk..” he groaned out. He pressed a kiss to your swollen clit before rubbing your bud mindlessly with his thumb in a soothing manner. “Know how needy my girl is.” He muttered, licking at your entrance, slurping at the welcoming juices that flowed out.

“Farleigh..” you whimpered out. He coped at you. “I know, honey. I know. M’gonna take care of you, baby.” His tongue swirling around your most sensitive part of your body had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in a pure euphoric feeling.

Sure, you’ve rubbed one out before, but it was never anything like this. It never felt this good, or like you were on a different fucking planet. He must’ve laced his tongue with something, because there was no way someone could do what he was doing with his tongue.

Every flick sent a shiver up your spine, and had you orbiting. Every suckle at your needy little bud that wasn’t so little when he released it from his mouth made you all the more closer to the edge of your on coming orgasm. He lapped at your juices like it was the best thing he’s ever had in his life, and to him, it was.

You tasted sweet on his tongue, and a little bitter but in a delicious way. He wanted to know what you looked like when you came. Did your mouth fall open with bliss, or would it be clenched shut? Would he be able to see those eyes he loves so much, or would they be in the back of your head?

Your hand clawed at his hair, pulling when it became too much. The balls of your feet dug into his back, all of this is a painful way, yet Farleigh didn’t seem to care. He relished in knowing how good he was making you feel. Knowing only he got to see you like this made him go feral, lapping and sucking at your cunt vigorously.

“Wait—F-Farleigh, I’m— I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out, your head thrown back onto the covers on your bed. He groaned into you, sending a wave of bliss through your core, and that was what made you come so easily undone. Your orgasm crashed into you like an unsuspecting wave, but of pleasure with a hint of pain as he continued torturing you through your orgasm.

“Good girl. Did so good, baby. Y’look so fuckin’ pretty.” He praised, kissing your thigh as you came down from your world-shattering high. Little did you know, that was going to be nothing compared to the way you’re going to feel when he was done with you.

You watched as he stripped himself of his pants and boxers, freeing himself of his confinements. His cock sprang and stood proudly, slapping his stomach. You gulped at the sight of him. Hard, with prominent veins on the sides with a red, angry tip that leaked pre-cum. He was more long than girthy, around 8 inches, the biggest you’d ever seen in person.

It twitched slightly, and his heavy, slightly hairy balls hung, full of cum that you wished to milk out of him till he couldn’t give any more. You craved him, and the need to be stuffed was consuming your darkening thoughts, spreading your legs even wider as a welcoming. An initiative that Farleigh happily took.

He rubbed his length through your folds, teasingly. Each time he did so, his weeping tip bumped against your engorged, sensitive clit. “Sweet girl, you’re so wet f’me.” He pointed out, causing that familiar flush to resume on your hot cheeks. “Please fuck me, Farleigh.” You asked.

Farleigh couldn’t possibly say no to his best girl when you looked up at him like he was a godsend. When you finally looked up at him the way he longed for you to. “Anything you want, baby.” And sure enough, his cock slipped past your lower lips, invading your pussy with such recklessness.

Your walls squeezed him tightly, a warm welcome as you clamped down harder onto him when he fully bottomed out. His balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each hard thrust he delivered to your cunt, angled just the right way, hitting all the right spots that made your legs shake.

“F-farleigh! Oh-“ you moaned out, gripping the sheets below you with such force, anything to stabilize yourself from the blunt force of his cock dominating your insides.

Farleighs mind was consumed with you. The way you felt around him. The way you looked under him, hair matted to your forehead as desperate cries of pleasure slipped past your lips. He couldn’t help himself, he needed to be closer to you. If he could live in your skin, he would, because even now as you were joined together, it wasn’t enough for him.

His lips attacked yours, taking your breath away as your tongues tangled together. He tasted like his Marlboro cigarettes, mixed with the taste of you. The kiss was passionate, an exchanging of unspoken words the two of you would discuss afterwards.

Your mixed saliva was messy, to say the least. It covered the both of your chins, and a string of saliva connected your tongues still, even as he pulled away. The whole scene was erotic as he kissed down your neck, licking and biting at spots, surely a display of marks for everyone to see and wonder who left them.

But he wasn’t hiding himself, not after this, no. He’ll be at your side forever and always after this. There was no more lonely nights of longing, no more worries and ‘what if’s’, or feeling incomplete, like something was missing, when the whole time he knew that it was you.

A wave of relief danced over your features. You didn’t have to go through this alone now, and as you were on the brink of your second release for the night, the stars seemed to shine brighter through your half opened curtains. He luminescent lighting spanning over Farleighs features, making him look most ethereal above you.

His face was contorted in bliss, a show of how he felt as he forhead rested against yours. Pants slipped past his lips as his hand met the flesh of your breast, squeezing. “Need you. M’gonna cum, baby. Can I cum in you?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded. “Yes, please, Farleigh. Please cum in me.” You moaned against him.

He moaned out, his pace becoming a little more sloppy as his hips chased for a release. You felt your orgasm consume you for a second time tonight, making you tumble over yourself as your body wracked with an overwhelming sense of pleasure. His tip hit your g-spot with every thrust, and the feeling was becoming overwhelmingly good.

Tears lined your eyes, but he kissed them away with sweet nothings as he painted your walls a creamy white color, his hips finally stuttering against yours in a final show of his arousal for the night. His balls grew tight, as he filled with with a groan. Sure enough, your sweet cunt was milking him greedily.

When he finally decided to pull out, he watched the way both of your release mixed together in a beautiful display. He smiled softly down at you, your eyes connecting in a sense of a strange understanding. Both of you, outsiders, who now had each other.

His hand found yours as he planted a charming kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He hummed out, watching as you nodded, propping yourself upright.

He slid his clothes back swiftly, making his way to the restroom, wetting a cloth with warm water before making his way back to where you sat, waiting on your bed. “Let me see, honey.” He urged, ushering your legs back open, gently dapping the warm cloth on your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the remnants of the mess both of you had made.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he used the clean side of the warm cloth to gently dab your forehead, ridding it of sweat, pushing your hair out of the way. “Yes—I—thank you” you said after a moment of pondering your words.

He raised a brow. “For what?” He asked. You blushed, embarrassed under his peering gaze. Ironic, seeing as he saw and heard so much more from you just mere seconds ago. “For everything, I suppose. I-I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” You muttered, almost ashamed.

He clicked his tongue as he flicked your forehead with his finger. “You silly girl.” Was all he muttered. “Don’t worry about that now. It doesn’t matter anymore. You know now, and that’s what counts.” He smiled, a confirmation that everything indeed, was going to be okay.

His curly hair seemed more vibrant, and the glint in his eyes told you what you longed and awaited to hear the most.

“I love you.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com

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wormswurld · 3 months

Text

forced feminization ollie with felix! (pt. 2) 🌟

i am a man of the people! here’s more forced fem! ollie cuz the world needs ittttt :3

- the first time felix shaved ollie’s stubble he “accidentally” knicked him on his jaw,, it’s ollie’s fault he was so shaky and nervous right? i mean felix did have a blade near his jugular…so what does fucked up felix do? lick the blood off his face. obviously. “there all better, yeah?” and ollie just nods softly as he slowly exhales a shuddery little breath

- first time felix gets ollie in a pretty babydoll dress he asks for a spin,, forcing ollie to tell him Who dressed him up and How pretty he is 😵‍💫 probably ends with felix asking ollie “what are you wearing underneath?” with the most shit eating grin and ollie just embarrassingly bends over showing felix his pink lacy panties that say “property of felix catton” in cute swirly cursive letters with a bow sitting right above his tail bone 🎀

- when ollie gets really into his role of being felix’s girlfriend he calls him “sir” 🤤 ie: “are you gonna be a good girl for me? be my pretty little arm candy when we go out?” and ollie with his eyes all glazed over look up at felix responds with a breathy “yes..sir” and felix wants to FUCK HIM ON SIGHT.

- whenever they are super super fucking drunk felix insists on ollie (messily) dancing on a stripper pole,, poor ollie babe just twirling himself around giggling and feeling all warm and fuzzy cuz he has felix’s attention on him though when they leave the club shitfaced ollie trips cuz of his heels and felix’s says “okay that’s enough” and just carries him bridal style to his dorm 🤗

- felix probably gets venetia & farleigh in on the “joke”… venetia making comments about how ugly ollie’s nails are so she suggests to paint them for him, making sure to choose the girliest color & designs,, whereas farleigh is just more catty with ollie, easily provoking him and stuff like that one day ollie snaps back and farleigh goes “awwww looks like oliver’s on her period everyone” and poor ollie just stomps off

- next to felix venetia probably gets the most into it LOL,, “y’know i’ve never seen felix bring around girls like you before..” & “i know you’ve never kissed another girl before, felix told me.” and she just gets all up in his personal space making it quite literally IMPOSSIBLE to get away (trying not to think about dom! venetia and fem! ollie….)

- holy fuck thinking abt felix sending venetia and ollie into town to go shopping for bikinis…..oliver just blushing the entire time he’s dragged around by venetia ultimately losing it when she holds up the skimpiest bikini up to his body “this would look good on you don’t you think?” & obviously before they check out ollie gets a text from felix asking him to try it on 😵‍💫

- whenever felix’s is feeling nice he eats ollie out (literally just hearing felix saying that melts him completely….)

- felix’s controls what ollie eats 😊 always ordering for him whenever they are at a fancy restaurant

- ollie’s favorite pet names consist of: pretty girl, my girl, darling, princess, and love (his favorite..)

hope y’all enjoyed this one! wanted to go more in depth with it hehe i know felix is a major asshole but he softens up from time to time,, especially when it comes to his pretty girlfriend ollie 😵‍💫💖✨

tag list for my amazing freaky ppl that understand the vision: @mcr-and-coffee, @fuckingwoodfuckingpaneling, @pr0fessional-cunt, @ollieapologist, @island-in-the-shadows, @coldblooded-angel, @dylandaydreams, and @icarusamica !!

#saltburn #oliver quick #saltburn posting #felix catton #cattonquick #felix x oliver #lgbtqia #cw forced feminization #wormswurld brainrot 🌟#wormswurld posts 🌟#venetia catton #farleigh start #farleigh catton

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skybluewritings · 4 months

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Last summer part 3, Felix Catton x fem!reader

word count: 2.1 K

Her first dinner at Saltburn had gone as well as she could have hoped. She had worn a lovely teal slip dress that Venetia had immediately complimented her on, she in turn had complimented the girl on a black halter neck she was sporting. They’d only met once and she was looking forward to getting to know her better. Farleigh was also seated at the table, despite how much his teasing sometimes annoyed her she was still glad to see her friend.

Thankfully Elspeth didn’t press anymore for details about her friendship with Felix and oddly asked her questions about her upcoming masters degree. Although the questions were then followed by the story of an orgy Elspeth had experienced on her own masters degree. She had nodded politely throughout the story (she had to admit it was weirdly interesting), Felix and Venetia looked as if they wanted to die. Felix’s father-James, was a little more difficult to make conversation with, she hoped in the next few weeks this would get easier.

The next day they had made plans to hangout by the pool. She wore a short sundress, the straps of her red bikini visibly tied around her neck. She opened the bathroom door, her flipflops slapping against the tiles. She knocked on the door, there was a moment where no one answered. Felix opened his door, he was wearing sandals and dark swimming trunks.

She couldn’t help her eyes tracing the panes of muscle and his broad shoulders. She’d never seen him completely shirtless and had occasionally wondered what it would look like, nothing could have prepared for the effect it would finally have on her.

“My eyes are up here.” He teased.

She blinked at him, how long had she gone without speaking? “Uh sorry what-what were you asking me?”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I didn’t ask you anything.”

“Let’s just go outside.” She said pushing past him, desperate to put distance between them and the conversation. He laughed at how obviously flustered she had become.

"Look who finally decided to join us.” Farleigh said cheekily to them.

Felix gestured in her direction. “It’s not my fault certain people take years to get ready.”

(Name) gasped in outrage. “That is totally unfair! And besides I’m not the one who took ages styling his hair, despite the fact we’re going swimming!” Venetia laughed at the comment.

“All the more reason to not splash me.” He replied defensively.

“If you think that’s going to stop me you’re wrong.”

She pulled off the sundress and tossed it onto one of the loungers behind her leaving her in just the red bikini. Both Farleigh and Venetia wolf whistled at her causing her to laugh flusteredly.

She turned to Felix. “Are you getting straight in?..” Her voice trailed off when she noticed how intently Felix was staring at her, a dark pink tint present in his cheeks. She wondered what had caused it?

“You look a little flushed are you alright?” She asked moving closer to him to inspect his face.

He seemed to snap out of it and swallowed hard. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

She reached forward to feel his face. “Are you sure because-“

“Wh-what are you-” He dodged her and moved back. “I feel fine, promise.”

Her heart sank a little. “Okay, if you insist.” She agreed.

She gave him a concerned look before walking past him to jump in the pool. When she emerged to the surface of the cool water, she ran a hand through her hair pushing it away from her face.

“Ugh he’s in one of his moods again.” Venetia complained nodding her head towards Felix who was now laid out on one of the loungers book in hand.

“He was fine this morning, what could have changed in the past few minutes?” (Name) replied quiet enough for both Venetia and Farleigh to hear.

Venetia rolled her eyes. “Knowing him could be anything.”

“Should I go check on him?” She asked.

Farleigh shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry, he’ll get over it. Just leave him.”

She was able to temporarily ignore her worries by chatting away to Venetia and Farleigh, it seemed that light fun conversation was what she needed.

After awhile Felix came to sit at the edge of the pool dangling his legs in the water. She swam over to him.

She raised her brows. “You finally getting in?”

He gave her a small smile that almost didn’t feel real. “Maybe in a minute.”

She didn’t instantly reply, instead she nodded at him, gnawing in thought at her bottom lip. “Can you do me a favour and help me out the pool?”

“Sure.”

He held out his hand to her which she gladly took yanking him forward into the pool, water violently splashing around him. Farleigh and Venetia shrieked with laughter when Felix came up for air. He glared down at her, she pressed her mouth into the back of her hand to supress the laughter that threatened to explode.

A snort escaped her. “I’m sorry but come on you have to admit that it’s funny?”

“Do you know what’s really funny?” He asked her seriously.

Farleigh and Venetia stopped laughing not sure how Felix had taken the joke.

“Uh no.” She answered slowly.

A wide grin broke out across his face. “Being dunked under water.”

A scream left her as he grabbed her, she squirmed in his arms giggling through pleads to be put down. Her back was pressed to his chest as he sunk underwater with her, taking his revenge.

The rest of the afternoon passed by pleasantly, after they had all grown tired of the pool, they had decided to play cards at the patio table. She had put her sundress back on.

“How the fuck do you keep beating me?” Venetia demanded from Farleigh.

Farleigh smirked at her. “My mom spent time in Vegas and taught me some tricks.”

Venetia threw down her cards. “I don’t want to play if you’re just going to gloat in my face the whole time.”

“You being a sore loser doesn’t help.” Farleigh pointed out, she stuck her tongue out at him in response.

Felix and (Name) exchanged amused looks.

“You too can hardly ever stop making eyes at each other.” Venetia told them.

Farleigh made a tutting sound. “You should have seen them at College they always looked five seconds for jumping each other.”

(Name) let out a sigh, choosing to focus on shuffling her cards. “Is every other comment going to be about me and Felix, cause it’s getting boring.”

“Not to me it isn’t.” Farleigh hummed making her roll her eyes.

(Name) straightened her posture, but felt a sudden stinging sensation coming from her back. “Ow.” She hissed out.

“What is it?” Felix asked her.

“I think I might be sunburnt.”

He looked at her back and nodded. “Yeah you’ve definitely caught the sun. Let’s get you some Aloe Vera, it’s upstairs in the bathroom.”

“See you guys in a bit, hopefully my recovery will be speedy.” She said to Farleigh and Venetia.

Felix and her got out from the table. Once Felix’s back was turned Farleigh raised a brow at her. ‘Stop’ she mouthed at him, in return he mouthed back ‘no’.

She leant against the sink whilst Felix rummaged in the cabinet for the Aloe Vera.

“Ah here we are!” He said victoriously, handing over a plastic tub.

She unscrewed the tub, dipping her fingers into the container. She craned her neck to look at her back in the mirror wincing when she saw the redness. It was thankfully a small patch under her shoulder blade obscured slightly by the strap of her sundress. She tried hard to reach the burn, alternating angles and arms. Eventually she ended up with not only a sore back but a sore neck and shoulders.

“Do you want help?”

“If you don’t mind!”

He took the pot from her and moved to stand behind her. He cleared his throat. “I might need you to remove your dress, it’s in the way.”

She peered back at him; his face was once again flushed much like it had been at the pool. It hit her that she was now the cause of it. So did that mean that at the pool he had been-maybe because of her? The realisation made her look away from him.

She slipped the straps of the dress down her shoulders, the material of the dress bunched at her waist. This was starting to feel way too intimate. He rubbed the Aloe Vera into her back massaging the muscle as he did.

She exhaled contently. “That actually feels kind of good.”

“I’m uh glad.” He replied.

The coolness of the cream and his warm palms felt incredible. Her nerves of him so close to her gave way to relaxation, her eyes fell shut. It felt like she existed in a peaceful limbo until what sounded like the bathroom door opening.

“Oh gosh I’m so terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” A panicked voice apologised.

Her eyes flicked open, to see a bashful maid clutching a cady containing cleaning products. Of course what was actually happening was completely innocent but to the maid it looked as if he'd been about to undress her. She sprung away from Felix and pulled her dress back up.

“I’ll come back later, sorry again.” The poor maid stammered leaving the bathroom.

(Name) looked to her bestfriend her mouth open in shock, he shook his head at a loss for words. She needed some space from him.

"I think I might go have a lie down." She told him pulse racing.

"Sure, I'll see you for dinner." He replied weakly struggling to look at her.

Was she ever going to catch a break?

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

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lazzarella · 4 months

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A non-exhaustive list of Saltburn moments I think about a lot in no particular order (aside from the obvious ones that will always live rent free in my head):

The way Gavey eats the Crunchie lol

‘What? What kind of— what do you mean, problems?’ 👀

Felix lying in the sunlight in his room, while Oliver is just a shadow cast on the floor

"I can wear my suit of armour, Elspeth!" :DDDD

Felix's >:( face at breakfast after Farleigh told him about Oliver and Venetia

Felix picking grass or something off Oliver's leg

‘“She came from Greece. She had a thirst for knowledge.” It couldn’t have been me. I’ve never wanted to know anything.’

🎤she got them apple bottom jeans

Duncan pushing his hair back when Oliver sees him during the search for Felix (the first crack in his facade)

“Darling, darling boy” :(((((

Duncan totally losing his composure when he can't close the curtains

Venetia pouring the whole bottle of wine into her glass

Fjfjdjakfivifjajanc milk and cookies

#saltburn #saltburn 2023 #Saltburn movie #Saltburn spoilers #Jacob elordi #Barry Keoghan #Oliver quick #Felix catton #spoilers

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nutteu · 1 month

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Gold-digger Oliver

inspired by that one post about oliver fucking every catton available except for felix (still can't stop laughing about it, will find the post later) (EDIT, I FOUND THE POST: HERE). but here we go:

What if, Oliver was a gold-digger, and what if this wasn't his first rodeo? Like, he had done this before and that was why it was easy for him to understand the whims of the wealthy, the filthy rich, because he had experienced how it felt like being an arm candy for some elder man, hiding this from his parents and accumulating wealth and properties he had gotten from his previous sugar daddies and mommies. Especially, he understood how bored and lonely they were, and he learned how to shape himself into something they liked, something they could play with to pass time. It wasn't the first time he had ever been someone's toy, and he didn't mind the notion. Let them think that way, as long as Oliver got what he wanted.

So, with his previous knowledge, he played chess with Sir James, talked about the goddamn ceramic and artifacts scattered all over the estate; had a tea party with Elspeth and Pamela, before she left, dialed up the compliments to the nine because he knew that it would be easier to get Elspeth's attention and interest. It was easy enough, because Sir James was lonely, and Elspeth wanted to be seen and appreciated, made her feel she was still in her youth, brimming with beauty and unattainable to those who desired her.

All the while, he approached Venetia when she offered herself, pushed it further by interrogating her about what she liked, what she wanted to be; ate her out and let the blood stain his mouth, his fingers, and let the memory linger as he pushed more food onto her plate; lay his head on her chest, counting the heartbeat as she told him some complicated equations that they solved together as they giggled and teased each other. And of course, Farleigh and all the chips on his shoulders, his prickly nature which Oliver unearth with brutality and insistence; jerked him off and whispered encouragement, assurance, praises as Farleigh came on Oliver's fingers, let himself submit underneath Oliver's touch as Oliver rode him until he was spent; spending the afterglow trading cigarettes and insults, talked about rich people and how ridiculously out of touch to reality they were, Oliver teasingly offered a sliver of truth to Farleigh about his past with the rich and smiled as Farleigh gaped and laughed; waiting for the sunrise as Oliver promised him a place in the house after he got his name in the inheritance and Farleigh wouldn't need to beg with a bowl anymore.

He charmed everyone and even got Duncan softening a little at him after he offered to cook his own meals, talked about the layout and the history of Saltburn with him, be at awe for Duncan's impeccable schedule and his brutal way of wrangling problems before lunch time. Oliver befriended the maids and other helpers, memorized their names and where they came from, so they wouldn't bat an eyelash if he were to own this estate someday.

Everyone and everything was within his palms, dancing to his tune, except for Felix, who increasingly grew upset because he finally found out that Oliver not only had bedded Venetia, but Farleigh as well, and his parents were smitten by Oliver's encyclopedia of a brain and his endearing twitch of nose, the summer in his eyes. It was just a bad form, that Oliver came by his invitation, yet leaving him out of the loop Oliver had created with literally everyone in this estate but Felix.

Ah, but Felix didn't want Oliver, did he? He called him Ollie, kissed his cheek and his forehead, whined at him and took all of his attention, but he didn't want Oliver. He was just upset that everyone had gotten the attention of his toy, and none was left for him anymore. It wasn't fair, was it? That Felix was the one who brought Oliver here, yet it seemed that everyone had gotten their private time with Oliver, everyone, except for him. So, like he always did, he threw a tantrum, and Oliver sighed in exasperation and tried to fluff it up with Felix, playing into his savior complex by saying that he wouldn't have had this chance of being in Saltburn and knowing everyone if it weren't for Felix. So, really, thank you, Felix, and perhaps, we can spend some time together, yeah?

And Felix, still a little miffed but was willing to go along with Oliver's idea this time, nodded and started planning, getting all excited when he thought about bringing Oliver home, because his mum had called and she sounded sober as well! It would be a surprise for Oliver, that was for sure, and no one else had thought of it, because they only cared about themselves and not to Oliver. Felix was the only one he could call friend, the only one who cared. So, Felix told him to dress up, smiling at the sight of Oliver giggling shyly, and sang until his throat hurt as they drove by the roads.

That was, until Oliver realized where they were going, and begged him to turn back, to stop. Felix thought that maybe Oliver was afraid of reliving the traumatizing memory of his family's downfall, to face his drunken mother and the tombstone of his father. He smiled to himself and reassure Oliver that it was fine, that he'd be there with Oliver and that Oliver could lean on him, could depend on him, for the onslaught of bad memories and pain.

Until-- Felix's world collapsed into itself as Oliver curled into himself, faced with the genial and worried faces of Mr. and Mrs. Quick. Felix almost couldn't speak, his mind a tornado of questions and anger, of regret and disbelief, of rage and disappointment. They still went back to Saltburn, for the sake of the fucking birthday party, but the road to the estate was spent in excruciating silence, interjected by Oliver groveling and apologizing, and Felix stone-walling him because he couldn't think right now, couldn't think past the torrent of hurt that he felt so acutely in his chest.

He left Oliver to his own device once they arrived at Saltburn, ignoring the pang of something when they were greeted by Elspeth, and her face fell when she saw how close to tears Oliver was. How could anyone still wanted to pity Oliver, after what he had done, after the lies he had spewed out so easily to Felix? Or was it just that obvious to anyone but him, but they were too polite to tell that he was a dumbass who got manipulated so easily? Well, no more of that. Felix didn't care about Oliver anymore, everyone could take him because Felix wanted nothing to do with that wretched guy anymore.

Except that he still felt a burning rage within his chest when he saw Oliver being consoled by his parents, saw him smile shyly and hold Elspeth's hand in his, accepting the pat on the side of his face from James. What the fuck did Oliver do to make people this... malleable to him? This- this devoted? God, was Felix like them too, before he knew the truth?

He was hurt-- Oliver was his best mate, and he had lied, and it seemed like he wouldn't get retribution for his sin because everyone was too busy babying him within an inch of his life. Even Venetia and Farleigh only sighed and exchanged looks ladened with secrets as Felix told them the reason he was so agitated before the party. He had expected them to be upset in his behalf, but all Farleigh said was, "Well, it's Oliver, what can you do about it? And I don't think it's about you, Fels. Have you seen your parents with him? Even if you told them the truth, I doubt they'll kick him out of Saltburn."

The worst thing was, that it was true. Because the hours leading to the party, Oliver was stuck to Elspeth's side and occasionally glancing at him, before his gaze skittered away. Felix couldn't believe the audacity of this small, twitchy man. How dare he lied to Felix and not reap what he sow? How dare he bewitched the whole estate and had them by his side, no matter what he did? How dare he have someone else to console him and not Felix? Wasn't he his friend, the one who brought colors to his life, excitement to the dull everyday's life? Was he not the person Oliver was supposed to be faithful to, loyal to a fault? Then what the fuck was Oliver doing in Venetia's room, chuckling gently as she brushed his face with make-up? Had everyone gone crazy except for Felix?

What the fuck was happening?

The scene in the maze still happened, but instead of killing him, Oliver just closed his eyes, let the bottle fall and whispered the last 'I'm sorry' to Felix, before going back to the party, so he could tell Venetia and Farleigh to console the upset Felix. I'd like to make it that Venetia and Farleigh weren't on a witch-hunt for Oliver because, yes, they were charmed, but they also knew what Oliver really was and was entertained by his audacity in swindling Sir James and Elspeth into becoming another one of his walking wallet, making them putty underneath his hands. Of course they were worried about Felix, but really, it was so easy to see and Felix should've seen that coming, no matter how harsh and cold it seemed.

And so, Oliver wasn't kicked out from Saltburn the next morning, spending his breakfast trading stock predictions with James and ignoring Felix's burning stare in front of him. He still got the Cattons' attention and, eventually, money, even if Felix wasn't one of them. It was alright, this was something Oliver had done before, and he knew how to play it even with a few pieces gone from the board. He could still do whatever he wanted with these filthy rich people, and it was okay that Felix hated him. At least, Felix would still be here, confined within the estate and, later on, the campus, where Oliver would be there as well.

Slowly, he'd try to reconcile with Felix, because he, too, knew what Felix truly wanted. Perhaps, later on, he'd change his plan, according to the chess board, take off some figures out of the board and continuing his plan to make Felix forgive him. But not now, when he had other agenda, and he was confident that his name would be within the Cattons' will by next summer. Of that he was sure.

(No happy ending for Felix because he ought to suffer once in a while, also because I got too lazy typing this lol. Hope you enjoy!)

#shiki writes #saltburn #cattonquick #felix catton #oliver quick #ramblings #saltburn 2023 #farleigh start #venetia catton #quickstart #venetia/oliver #sir james/oliver #elspeth/oliver #all the cattons except for felix lmao

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virginprune · 2 months

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well, folks, it's thinking of felix forever thinking of felix time.

today i want to ramble about a common expression i see in the saltburn mines ("felix is his mother's son") and why i think it's often used as an oversimplification of both characters.

firstly, elspeth and her revolving door of poor dear guests. it's important to note that elspeth has been playing this game for a long, long time, at least as long as she's been the lady of the household (a good twenty years!). there are unspoken rules and games always at play within their society, and elspeth never fails to act with the appropriate level of decorum. only in private does she disparage pamela. in public, even around felix, she is careful to frame her boredom as her guests outgrowing her. even when pamela refuses to take a hint, she is removed from saltburn quietly and behind the scenes as early in the day as possible. the only two people that are ever truly aware of what's happening and actively taking notes of this… are oliver and farleigh, for whom the pecking order is extremely important. with that in mind, it seems very unlikely felix is aware of any of this, and instead sees it as his mother having a surprisingly kind streak despite all her annoying hang-ups and eccentricities.

but what about felix's toys from yesteryear? i think it is so telling that the word 'toy' only comes up in literally one scene, from a spurned venetia! oliver had pulled out the shameful, ugly parts of venetia that scared everyone else away, and found her desirable all the same. in the end, he made it very clear to her during that dinner scene: you can be my dirty little secret, but felix is more important to me. venetia is so perceptive too, just like farleigh (important survival skills imo); she knew exactly what would hurt him, because he is so desperate to remain in felix's good graces.

the only actual evidence in canon we have of one of felix's former guests is his best friend from school, eddie. it's unclear if eddie was "last year's one", or their fallout had taken place farther in the past. how long were they even friends for? we just don't know, but i imagine felix does not easily call anyone his best friend. emerald fennell herself actually refers to them as "felix's favourites" which i love and find more appropriate lol. more conjecture from me, but with those smidgens of context, i do not think felix was picking up the saddest, poorest boys he could find at a prestigious boarding school. his "friends" in the film are unbearably posh boys, and felix's childhood boy besties would have likely been as well.

so, oliver was an outlier in this. there is so much in the way felix and his family see oliver that confirms that they've never actually seen a Poor TM up close lmao. maybe oliver was going to get an invite to saltburn no matter what (he was, in every way, felix's favourite at oxford). but i think in that moment on date night bridge, if felix was his mother's son (as felix knew her), it was in that he saw someone he cared for in pain, with an uncertain place in the world, and knew no one would find it strange if he stayed in their home. in fact, the way felix words it (that his mum lets people stay for months at a time), leads me to believe that not even felix's former favourites stayed as long as oliver did.

another thing about that scene: felix, almost shyly, invites oliver to come home with him, and the first thing oliver does... is tell him no. we all know it's a dream come true for oliver, but he puts felix in a position where he has to practically beg oliver to accept lmao. insane behaviour tbfh!

#saltburn #yappy yappy time #felix catton #oliver quick #elspeth catton #if anyone tells you that felix wasn't down bad for oliver in a way he had never known before just send them my way

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twisted-turtels · 3 months

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Crossed Paths (Pt.1)

Farleigh Start x black!fem!oc

Author’s note: this is so random of me. Welcome to my new fixation, Farleigh Start from Saltburn. I wonder how long this story will last lol.

969 words is crazy i dont even write this much for my classes lol. it takes me days to get to 1000 words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Crossed Paths

“Mama, there is no need to worry about me. You don’t trust me?” Jordan says. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I don't trust the rest of the world. You're my baby, and you’re leaving me. Going all the way across the world!” Monica, Jordan’s mom, exclaims.

“Ma, you know this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I have never left this country, and I get the chance to study at one of the oldest and most prestigious universities for free! There’s nothing to worry about,” Jordan explains, “Listen, I’m about to pull up to my apartment, or shall I say ‘flat’ as the Englishmen describe it. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnighhhht.”

“Goodnight, baby, I love you. Don’t go crazy over there now!” Monica hangs up.

Jordan gets out of her taxi and takes in her surroundings. University of Oxford, I can’t believe I made it. Jordan clumsily gathers her luggage from the taxi (It’s a lot of stuff) and walks towards the entrance to her accommodation. As she struggles to make sure none of her luggage falls, she accidentally bumps into a tall figure.

“Fuck.”

“Oh shit, I am so sorry!” Jordan looks up and exclaims. She sees a tall, pretty, light-skinned man staring down at his now-stained shirt. He’s black, she thinks. “Yes, and so is my shirt,” the man says sarcastically. “Oh, I did not realize I said that out loud. I’m sorry again. I’m kind of struggling, and I guess I wasn't paying-” she tries to explain, “You’re American?” the man interrupts. “Um, yeah, I just got in today, if you can’t tell. I’m here for an exchange program,” she continued. “Not many of us here. Listen, don’t worry about the shirt. I hope to see you around, but I gotta be somewhere soon,” the man quickly says and walks off.

“For sure,” Jordan trails off, saying before she looks at her bags, I guess I will take this up myself. “Ugh!” she groans.

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Jordan sits in her flat and looks at the now unpacked space. I did a great job. I think I'm gonna put a Texas flag on my wall, too. She slumps down on the couch and looks at the flyer on her coffee table. ‘Undergraduate Social! 5 PM,’ it reads. “I guess I can attempt to socialize,” Jordan looks down at her watch, “One hour to get ready, but I don’t have to be there at exactly 5 pm though,” Jordan thinks aloud. I wonder if I’ll see the man from earlier?

After freshening up, Jordan gathered her keys and wallet and went to the social. She entered the student union and noticed it bustling with students and professors. While looking around, she subconsciously looks for the man she met earlier. Not many black students, she notes. She takes the time to go up to different organization tables and gather information. As she moves from table to table, she feels a delicate hand tap her shoulder. Jordan turns around and notices a blonde girl standing in front of her.

“Hello!” the blonde girl exclaims.

“Hello?” Jordan questions.

“Sorry for the abruptness, but I just wanted to introduce myself. You seemed lost. My name is Venetia, and I wanted to ask, are you American?”

“Uh yeah, I am. I’m from Texas, actually.” Jordan explains.

“That’s really cool. There aren't many Americans here. I do know another one, though, who just happens to be my cousin. Would you like to meet him?”

I do need friends, so it wouldn't hurt.

“I don’t mind that at all. Lead the way. Also, my name is Jordan, by the way.”

“What a lovely name. Follow me!” Venetia instructs.

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“Boys, I would like you to meet Jordan! She’s American just like you, Farleigh!” Venetia exclaims

Jordan stares at the tall man. “Oh, we’ve met Vee. She’s the one who spilled tea on my shirt.” Farleigh explains with a stoic look on his face.

Jordan stares at her feet sheepishly, “Yeah, really sorry about that.”

Farleigh stared the girl down until he smirked, “I’m just playing; it wasn’t a big deal. It's nice to put a pretty name to a pretty face, though.”

He just called me pretty.

“Ignore Farleigh, he’s a little jokester. Aren’t you cousin?” Venetia teasingly asks as Farleigh rolls his eyes. “Anyway, this is my brother, Felix,” Venetia gestures to another tall, handsome man. Are all British men above 6 feet and handsome?

“Hello. Sorry for my sister practically dragging you over here,” Felix jokes.

“I did not drag her over here!” Venetia exclaims

“Haha, it’s okay. I need to put myself out there more honestly, don’t want to be alone during my time here.” Jordan reassures.

“How about I get your phone number?” Farleigh blurts out, he then corrects himself, “ How about we all get your number so we can continue hanging out more? Obviously, I don’t want to be the only American in the group.”

“I thought you would never ask,” Jordan pulls out her phone to notice it’s dead, “Oops, phone is dead. Let me just write it down.” There is no paper. “Can I see your hand?” Jordan asks Farleigh while taking out a pen. Jordan softly holds Farleigh’s hand and writes down her number, “You can pass this on to the rest of them,” Jordan smiles at Farleigh.

“It was really nice meeting y'all, but I have to get ready for the first day, so I’ll see y'all later,” Jordan waves and walks off.

Oh my god, when did I get so bold?

The group looks at each other in astonishment as Jordan walks away. “Ooh, Farleigh, she gave you her number,” Venetia teases. “She gave it to all of us,” Farleigh defends himself.

“She says y’all,” Felix points out. “That’s so Texas of her.” He jokes.

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

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rustonyourfingers · 3 months

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I officially lost it, cattonquick invaded my brain, send help (pls don't, I want them to live in my brain forever tee hee).

Sooo, that Oliver tried to kill himself in the maze instead of Felix fic? Absolutely yes, in the works, hopefully, the first chapter will come out this weekend (sorry for the delay, I'm a very slow writer nowadays).

But I already planned out other cattonquick fics, bc focusing on one is too hard, so here are other ideas I'm currently working on! Bc I really, really, really need to share them with someone, or I will lose my mind, I swear.

1. Oxford days, Felix pov – For the first time, instead of hanging out in Felix's room, they're in Oliver's. They're supposed to be studying, but Felix being Felix decides to snoop around instead. Oliver is clearly bothered by that - tries to tell Felix they should study, he should stop, really, they need this essay finished by friday, but when Felix notices that Ollie is simply nervous, he gets even more curious. And here it is - hidden on the highest shelf of the wardrobe, something that is unmistakably a dildo. And isn't that interesting - Oliver is blushing and can't face him; so ofc Felix takes it out and pushes. Teases Oliver, until he's so red, Felix is concerned he'll implode. But the irony is, his first thought isn't even that Ollie likes to take it up the ass, no - but when he realizes that that's why Oliver was so embarrassed, the thought finds home in his mind and stays.

And now Felix can't stop thinking about it: Oliver on his bed, ass up, pumping the dildo in and out, with a blissed out expression. In that vision Oliver moans a name: Felix, Felix, Felix, over and over, and over again, and that's weird, because Felix isn't gay. He's not homophobic, and if Oliver is gay, that's fine, but he is not. Definitely.

So he puts the dildo back where it was hidden and decides to never tease Oliver about it ever again.

But of course that's not the end of it. Bc here Felix is, having the time of his life during some sort of a party, dancing with Ollie, laughing with him as they always do, when the chosen girl for the night not only tells him she's not intrested, she also suggests he should go back to his boyfriend and flirt with him, instead of taking time of some random girls when it is clear nothing will come out of it.

But Ollie is not his boyfriend, how could she even think that! So ofc now he's horny and frustrated, bc his plans for the night just got wrecked; he drinks instead and gets back to his room with his arm around Ollie.

And behind closed doors, the thoughts of Ollie, on his knees, come back. Felix is horny and confused, and Ollie looks especially pretty that night, and in his drunken state sleeping with him seems like a wonderful idea. And they do. And then they actually sleep. And then in the morning Felix is back to panicking and repeating that he is straight, this didn't mean anything, he'll get right back to fucking girls, thank you very much.

And the rest of the fic is these two idiots figuring their shit out. Bc drama and misunderstandings are my jam.

2. Jealous Felix - I think we all agree that scene between Farleigh and Oliver was very hot, but what if, what if Felix catches Oliver sneaking out and later leaving Farleigh's room? What if he spent the whole evening watching the two of them, laying on that couch together, heads so close they were almost kissing? And he's furious, even more so than when he thought Oliver was after Venetia - bc why Farleigh, when Felix was right there?

So yes, he watched Oliver all night and yes, he followed him, when he heard the door to his room open. And yes, he waited for him to leave Farleigh's room and was moments from barging in there and stopping whatever it was that was happening.

And now Oliver needs to explain - and Felix needs to claim what's his, bc if Oliver ever thought he belonged to anyone else, he was dead wrong.

3. A classic Oliver didn't lie fic - bc I need Felix to be the one groveling and apologizing more than I need air. The absolute tragedy of him confronting the poor not in stories, but in real life: of seing all that ruination, all the dirt, and pain, and vomit covering the streets. Smelling the piss, seeing people going through trash. Realizing, for the first time, that this is what Oliver's life looked like before he came to Oxford. This is what he woke up to, every day for as long as he could remember.

Just chef's kiss! My angst loving heart craves it more than anything.

So, that's it for now! I have more ideas lurking in the depths of my mind, but I'm trying not to indulge them. For now. ;)

#cattonquick #fic ideas #saltburn #saltburn spoilers #just thinking about these two #what else is new #i need someone to come kick me in the ass #bc writing all of these is taking way too long #send help #oliver x felix #felix catton #oliver quick

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nataliesfirefly · 2 months

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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 5

a/n: hello!! i have a treat for u guys... so i know i said i don't really write smut but i felt like this story just needed it- this is my first time writing smut and it might lowkey suck. i hope it's good, i tried really hard but DAMN writing smut is not for the weak. props to you writers that do it so much better. anyways this part is kinda long BUTTT very juicy. please enjoy and leave a comment to tell me what you think or if you would like to be added to the taglist! also started posting this series on my ao3, it's the same as my tumblr username!

series masterlist

word count: 4.5k

warnings: language, alcohol, smut, fingering, angst, mentions of weed

You wake up to someone saying your name and shaking you. “Wake up,” You realize it’s Venetia. You blink a few times, your eyes adjusting to the warm golden light of your bedroom.

“What?” Your voice comes out weak and hoarse. “Oh, thank God. I was worried about you,” She rubs your back and you groan, rolling over and shoving your face into the sheets.

“Where did you disappear to last night? All I remember is you and Farleigh going upstairs—” She stops in the middle of her sentence like she is just processing what she said. “Wait- did you and Farleigh-”

“No! No, no, no.” You shake your head aggressively. You rack your brain to recall last night’s events. You remember drinking a lot of alcohol, making out with Farleigh, and then throwing up shortly afterwards.

“Did you drink too much?” Venetia asks, her hand still on your back. “No…” You attempt to lie but you know it’s useless.

You can’t hide your physical appearance, the sign that you obviously fell asleep drunk last night. You had slept in your dress, makeup was smudged all over your face and on the pillows of your bed, and your hair was tangled, the little butterfly clips that were once in it scattered around your bed.

“Babes. Sit up, you need to drink some water.” She stands up and goes into your bathroom. You hear the faucet running as you slowly sit up, and your brain feels like it’s rolling around in your head.

“Oww,” You wince at the throbbing headache and adjust yourself, leaning against the headboard. Venetia returns and hands you a glass of water. You take it and hold it with both hands, not trusting your unstable grasp. You take a sip, letting the cool water refresh your dry throat.

“Haven’t seen Farleigh since last night either, come to think of it,” She remarks, watching you take little sips of the water. “Felix took a liking to Sadie. And you know, no one can deny Felix, so… you can guess how that went,” She chuckles to herself.

You pause and look at her. “Like, Sadie as in the one Elspeth was trying to set Farleigh up with?” You ask. Venetia nods. “Yep. Felix just can’t keep himself away from girls.” She tuts and shakes her head.

“Farleigh didn’t like her anyway,” You mutter. “I figured.” She looks at you strangely, like she’s trying to figure you out, or figure something out.

“You two seem a lot closer lately.” She raises an eyebrow. “No.” You immediately reply. She giggles at your quick response. “What? It’s not like it’s a bad thing,” She says.

“It is a bad thing.” You sigh and shake your head. Venetia narrows her eyes at you suspiciously before leaning back, deciding not to press you any further.

“What can I get you? Some painkillers?” She asks. “Yes, please.” You nod gratefully and she climbs off of your bed, heading out of your room.

You stare at the wall, thinking about last night. You didn’t want to think about it, but your mind kept going back to it. Although you were drunk and your brain was hazy, you can still remember it so clearly. The way his big hands felt so perfectly on your hips, the way he kissed your neck, the way you felt while you were underneath him. The way he made you feel. Your stomach flips as you press your thighs together, suddenly feeling warmth creep onto your face.

When Venetia returns, she refills your glass of water and hands you some pills to take. As you tip your head back to swallow the painkillers, you hear her gasp softly.

“Are those hickeys? On your neck?” You freeze and your heart drops. “Shit,” You curse under your breath. You knew there would be marks but you seemed to forget by the time you woke up.

“Oh my God,” Venetia laughs and playfully pushes you. Your face grows even more red and you glance down to avoid her gaze. “I fucking knew it,” She giggles with satisfaction and you let out an annoyed sigh.

“Please don’t go telling everyone. I don’t even know how it all happened,” You pinch the space between your eyes while closing them. “You know I won’t tell. I’m the best secret keeper around,” She nudges you softly.

“Just because we made out does not mean we’re anything,” You explain to her as if you’re trying to justify a crime. But deep down, some part of you wishes that wasn’t true. You want to at least be something to him. “We were just drunk.” Just drunk, you thought.

You manage to clean up your appearance and cover the bruises on your neck with lots of makeup. You walk downstairs to get some breakfast, maybe some toast or something to take it easy on your stomach.

You walk into the dining room and see Farleigh seated at his usual spot. After a brief moment of eye contact, you immediately drop your gaze to the floor and turn to walk to the buffet of fruit and pastries. You grab a plate and begin assembling your meal. You pause when you hear someone standing up from a chair and footsteps behind you.

Quickly, you turn around to see Farleigh walking out of the room. You watch him leave, confused by his sudden exit. You shrug and turn back to your breakfast, carrying your plate over to the table and sitting down.

You are enjoying the nice moment of peace and quiet as you take small bites of your croissant, until Felix walks in and stands on the other side of the table, looking down at you.

“Hey. Can we talk? Please?” He asks, sitting down in the chair across from you. You nod and take a drink of water.

“I’m sorry. I know Farleigh has told you things I have said. I don’t know if he’s making things up or telling the truth, but I’m sorry either way.” He says, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“I forgive you, but why would you say those things if you didn’t mean them?” You reply, trying to find compassion for him while also trying to understand his mind. “I’m not sure. I just say dumb things sometimes, mate.”

Although this seemed like a half-assed apology and you were reluctant to accept it, you wanted things to go back to normal with Felix, or as normal as they could be, especially since you have to deal with him the rest of the summer. You want to enjoy every summer at Saltburn you have left before you graduate and move on with your life. But your thoughts still linger on why Felix treated you like some stray dog off the street during your argument a few days ago, and if he meant everything he said.

“Okay.” You nod and he grins. “Friends?” He holds out his hand for you to shake across the table. You lean forward and reach out, grabbing his hand and shaking it. “Friends.” You repeat.

Dinner that night feels different. Farleigh is quieter than usual, not interjecting with his little comments or jabs. He doesn’t even glance in your direction, even though you try staring him down multiple times. His eyes are glued to the table, or off to the side somewhere else. He’s been avoiding you all day, icing you out.

“How did you and Sadie get along, Farleigh?” Elspeth suddenly asks. Farleigh shrugs. “Alright,” He says simply. Elspeth tilts her head slightly and looks back down to her plate, a puzzled look on her face.

Venetia clears her throat. “I think Sadie and Felix got along especially well.” Felix coughs suddenly. “Venetia,” He mutters. She smirks, and you laugh quietly.

One evening, you walk downstairs to look for Venetia. It’s been three painful days of Farleigh ignoring and avoiding you. You can’t lie, you miss his company, as much as it pains you to admit it.

You find Farleigh sitting on the couch in the lounge room, reading a book. Now’s your chance. He can’t avoid you now.

You approach the couch and sit down next to him. He stiffens before standing up, placing the book on the arm of the couch, and walking out of the room. What the fuck?

No, no. You can’t stand him ignoring you. It’s making your blood boil, that familiar feeling returning. Your anger towards him overcomes your senses.

You stand up and race after him, passing through the study, surrounded by tall, dark shelves of dusty old classics. You reach out and grab his wrist, forcing him to turn around. His cold and dark eyes pierce into you, and you can feel the tension already building.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You ask, your voice coming out harsher than you expected.

“Avoiding you?” He raises an eyebrow and acts clueless. Of course, he’s playing dumb. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He puts on a look of confusion, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Bullshit. You haven’t talked to me for three days. You left me that night when I was literally throwing up,” Your voice seethes with anger. He tilts his head, only now realizing you are alluding to the other night’s events.

“I was drunk. We both were.” He says. He steps forward, towering over you. “It didn’t mean anything. Don’t be an idiot,” He lowers his voice and his tone is condescending.

“Don’t do that. I know you felt it, too.” You say, lowering your own voice. You tighten your fingers around his wrist and stare deep into his eyes, searching for something, anything.

He pauses and stares right back at you. For a moment, everything is still. Until he rips his arm from your grasp and steps away.

“Felt what?” He asks, his voice cold. “Fuck you,” You whisper through gritted teeth, feeling angry because you know he’s bluffing.

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He replies teasingly, tilting his head with a slight smirk, showing his teeth.

You look away, clearly flustered and your face becomes hot. You aren’t sure what to say as you stare down at the floor. Before you know it he’s stepping back up to you and grabbing your wrist, pulling you close to him almost too quickly. You almost trip on your own feet as he effortlessly grabs you.

He leans down, his eyes flickering from your lips back to your own. You take the hint and stand on the tips of your toes to meet his height, tilting your head as your noses brush together. There’s only a millisecond of hesitation before he’s kissing you in the same way he did a few nights ago, like he’s making up for lost time.

His arms wrap around you hurriedly, desperately, as if you were trying to get away from him. Which you definitely weren’t. You place your hands on his chest to ground you as you both stumble backwards before your back hits one of the bookshelves.

You gasp for air and you hear Farleigh breathing heavily after he pulls away, but only for a brief second. His eyes are clouded with lust, his pupils blown wide, the black almost overtaking the beautiful brown rings around them.

His lips are on yours again, his body pinning you to the bookshelf. You reach your arms up to his broad shoulders as you feel his tongue slip into your mouth. Your eyes flutter with delight as you melt into the kiss, feeling his hands travel down to your lower back, and then your hips.

You feel his hand slip under your sundress and grab your thigh, pushing your leg up and to the side, giving some distance between your legs. He nudges his knee right in that spot, softly grinding it against you.

He pulls away to watch your reaction, biting his bottom lip as your eyes widen. Your lips part slightly and a soft moan escapes you. “Farleigh,” You gasp, your breath short as your hands grasp onto his shoulders.

“Hmm?” He mutters, tilting his head down to kiss your neck. Your neck is still sensitive from the bruises he had left last night, but you don’t care. Your mind can only seem to focus on the ache between your legs, your body practically screaming for him.

“Please,” You whisper, although you aren’t sure what you’re begging for. But he seems to know exactly what you want. He moves his knee slightly, still keeping your leg up, and the hand that was hooked under your thigh is now hiking your dress up for easier access. His fingers dance along your inner thigh and eventually, he’s pushing your panties to the side and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his finger dipping into your wet folds without warning.

He seems to groan in response to how soaked you are, and you would normally be embarrassed, but you’re too turned on at the moment to care. Your eyebrows draw upwards and your mouth falls open as his thumb nudges at your clit, tracing agonizingly slow circles. All you can do is whimper in response as he teases you, your knees feeling so weak, like you could fall over at any minute.

Suddenly, one of his long fingers is pushing deep into the heat of your cunt, pulling a short moan out of you as your head falls forward, your forehead resting on his chest. Your walls stretch around his digit and he groans again. “So tight,” He mutters, that alone almost causing your knees to give out. Not long after, he adds a second finger, his thumb still rubbing your clit at a slightly faster pace. You can feel that familiar heat building up in your lower stomach already, causing your heart to race even faster.

You begin to grind against his hand, rolling your hips mindlessly at the tempo he set for the both of you. You swear you hear him moan, his other hand’s grip on your waist tightening to keep you in place. He seems to be enjoying this just as much as you are, his fingers curling and gliding inside of you so delightfully. His fingertips brush up against that heavenly, spongy spot inside of you that you had never been able to reach on your own, causing your jaw to go slack.

“Shit- Right there,” You grip his shoulders even harder, your head lolling back. “Yeah?” He responds, his voice deep and raspy. You nod senselessly, and his fingers continue going deeper, determined to give you that pleasure you were chasing after. It’s almost too much, and your eyes begin to tear up as his fingers glide against that spot, over and over. You feel the white hot pleasure building and building, like a coil threatening to unravel at any moment. “Far-” You manage to choke out as if to warn him.

“Look at me,” Farleigh demands, and you don’t know if you can. Your head is tilted back and your eyes are fluttering, gazing up at the ceiling. “I can’t-” You shake your head as his fingers continue working on you, your chest heaving up and down. You want to feel that euphoric relief but you don’t want the moment to end either, but it feels so good that it almost starts to hurt.

He grabs your chin and tilts your head down so that you are forced to look right at him. Your eyes are glazed over and half-lidded, your lashes wet from your tears. “Such a slut. So easy to please,” He mutters, dragging his thumb down your swollen bottom lip. “I need– Can’t-” You whimper, apparently unable to form coherent sentences as you feel your climax approaching. “Need what, baby?” He asks tauntingly, and with one final stroke on your clit, you’re gone.

Your whole body tightens and stills, the pleasure racking through you. Your eyes roll back and you claw at his shoulders desperately as he helps you ride it out. When your eyes return to him, he has an almost pained expression on his face as he watches you come undone. He moans and lets go of your chin, letting your head fall back onto his chest. You lick the tears that built at the corners of your lips, your body going limp as you breathe heavily due to the aftermath of your intense orgasm. Eventually, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, letting your dress fall back down over your legs. He takes the smallest step away from you, and you can finally raise your head enough to look up at him. His gaze bores into yours as he puts those two fingers into his mouth, tasting you, swirling his tongue over them. You can’t seem to look away. You’re fascinated by his dedication.

“See you in the morning,” His arms return to his sides and he grins smugly, turning to walk out of the study. You stand there in shock, not sure what to do with yourself. What the hell just happened? Your legs are still shaking as you flatten your dress with trembling hands.

2 YEARS EARLIER

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, pulling your hair forward to fall over your shoulders. You spun around, observing the outfit that your roommate, Lola, had put together for you. A short, denim skirt with a cropped black top with some band’s name on it. It was simple but cute.

“You look so good,” Lola stepped up behind you and grinned at your appearance. “I think I did a great job.” She nodded and slapped you on the ass. “You did. It was all you,” You told her, leaning forward to flick a remnant of mascara off your face.

You had gotten all dressed up to go clubbing with Lola. It took loads of convincing, but eventually, you agreed. In about a month or two, you would have to start revising for exams, and you wanted to get good scores. So, this was kind of your last chance to go out, have a good time, stay up late, drink, and party until you forget about your stress.

“Wait, do my extensions look alright? My sister bought them for me. She told me they were trending,” You turned around to examine her hair. She had put a few clip-in pink hair extensions to contrast her dark brown hair. “They look great.” You said. She smiled at you before turning around. “Let’s get going then,” She grabbed her purse and you followed suit, trying not to trip in your chunky platform boots.

Almost everyone you knew from Oxford was at that club. It was the closest one to campus, after all. Felix waved you and Lola over to the bar.

“So, Lola, how’s second term going for you?” Felix asked, sliding her a tall glass of beer. She shrugged, taking the beer and tasting the foam at the top. “Good. Can’t complain,” She grinned. “Same here. Just can’t wait for exams,” He remarked sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah. So excited,” You joined in, and you all chuckled. “Well, I’m going to the loo.” Lola nudged you and you turned to her. “C’mon,” She muttered. “Oh- Okay,” Felix watched you two walk off to the bathroom.

There was a line for the toilets, but instead Lola brought you to the side. “I don’t actually need to go. I just… have a question,” She had some kind of mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “What’s up?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s about Felix. Is he single?” You groaned and facepalmed. “Lola. We’ve been over this.” Lola had an intense crush on Felix ever since you introduced them to each other. You told her that it would make things awkward if they dated, considering they were both your best friends, but she never seemed to give up on her dream.

“Well, is he?” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I don’t know. He’s not really one to… settle down. He gets with a different girl, like, every other night.” You shrugged helplessly. Lola bit her lip, considering her options.

“If you are wanting a serious relationship with him, good luck.” You shook your head. Lola raised her eyebrows. “So, what about just a shag?” She asked. You rolled your eyes. “I mean, he probably wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“Okay. What should I say?” Lola chewed on her nail nervously. “Uhh, just… Flirt, I guess.” You shrugged. She groaned. “You are absolutely no help.” She pat you on the shoulder before spinning on her heel and walking back out into the club and towards the bar again. “Good luck!” You shouted after her, but you don’t think she heard you.

Great. Now you were on your own. You sighed and walked out of the bathroom, shoving past groups of girls and loud men. You headed over to the lounge area, where many people sat on the velvet couches, smoking, playing drinking games, or full on making out.

You recognized one of the people in the corner. Farleigh. He was heavily making out with someone, almost grinding on them. It was most likely Sasha, you thought. But no, the other person was too tall to be Sasha. You squinted and walked a bit closer. Joshua?!

Farleigh was making out with Joshua Brown. “The fuck?” You muttered under your breath. You thought Joshua was straight. I mean, he liked girls so much, it never would have crossed your mind that he would be into men.

You wondered if you should tell Sasha about this… situation. You knew she was here tonight, you saw her earlier shaking ass on the dancefloor. And you could have sworn Farleigh was right next to her. Oh well. You wanted an excuse to snitch on Farleigh.

You backed away and walked speedily to the dancefloor, searching for Sasha. “Have you seen Sasha?” You asked a random girl. She shook her head.

You moved through the throng of students and eventually saw her. She was standing towards the edge of the dancefloor, speaking to one of her girl friends, nodding enthusiastically.

“Sasha!” You jogged over to her and paused to catch your breath. She looked you up and down like she was trying to recognize you. “Uhhh..” She trailed off, glancing to her friend. Her friend shook her head, as if to say, ‘I don’t know her either.’

“I know you don’t know me. Well, maybe you do and you just forgot, but-” You paused, realizing you sound stupid. “Anyways. I just wanted to ask if you were aware that Farleigh and Joshua Brown are making out right now…?”

She stared at you like you just spoke a different language. Then, she finally seemed to process what you said. “What? Really?” Her eyes widened and she looked over to her friend once again. You nodded. “Sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. Where exactly was this happening?” She asked, and you could tell she was mad. You could feel the rage radiating from her.

“Over by the lounge,” You told her, pointing to the opposite side of the club where you had just come from. She nodded and grabbed her friend’s hand. “Let’s go get this dumb bitch,” Sasha told her.

“Yikes,” You whispered, watching them storm off together. You kind of wanted to see Farleigh get his ass handed to him, so you followed far behind them.

They were still all over each other by the time Sasha and her friend reached them. “Hey, what the fuck?!” Sasha yelled, earning a few glances from some innocent bystanders. Farleigh froze and pushed Joshua off of him. “Shit. Hey, Sasha.” He stood there awkwardly.

Sasha stepped up to him and slapped him across the face. “Are you a fucking idiot? You asshole! Did you think I wouldn’t catch you?” Farleigh’s eyes widened as he stared down at her, completely at a stand still.

“You fucking cheater,” Her voice seethed with anger. “What, have you two already shagged?” She pointed to Joshua. Joshua just stood there, eyes wide and face flushed with embarrassment. “No, we haven’t.” Farleigh replied. “And it’s not cheating. We were just-”

“Shut the fuck up.” She raised her finger at Farleigh. “Sasha, baby, please.” He opened his arms and she shook her head. “No. You’re probably high. I can smell the fucking weed on you,”

Farleigh’s eyes trailed from Sasha over to you. His eyes narrowed and it’s like he knew immediately that you were the one who snitched on him. You lowered your gaze to the floor and stepped back before turning and walking away.

Later that night, you sat with Joshua in his dorm, consoling him as he cried. Lola had texted you to inform you that she and Felix were going back to his place. You guessed she was successful after all. You held him as his shoulders shook, feeling his tears falling onto your shirt.

“I feel awful. Sasha didn’t deserve that,” He looked up at you and you nodded. “I know. Listen, they’ll be back together in no time. Trust me.” You pat his head. “And now everyone thinks I’m gay,” He sobbed.

“Well.. are you?” You asked, curiosity getting the best of you. He shrugged. “I’ve just always thought Farleigh was so hot and tonight… well, he gave me some weed and then he kissed me. How could I say no?”

Oh. It made so much sense now. Joshua was always talking about Farleigh, how he was good with both girls and boys, and his skills. You thought maybe he had been jealous, but all along, he just had a crush on him.

“Damn. It’s okay. It may… take some time to figure things out, you know?” You rubbed his back and he sniffled.

You stayed the night at Joshua’s. It was already too late for you to return back to your own dorm, and you didn’t even have the key to your room. Lola did, and you knew she wasn’t there. He fell asleep with his head on your lap, so you had no choice but to lean back and try to get some sleep, despite the uncomfortable position you were in.

To no surprise, you heard Sasha and Farleigh fucking during the early hours of the morning. You knew their relationship was so fucked that Farleigh cheating wouldn’t change anything. Sasha pretended to be angry, but she loved him too much to break up with him. So instead, they just fucked.

You sat there and stared at the wall, wondering if Farleigh was the problem or if Sasha was. Sasha was psychotic, but Farleigh was the one making out with someone else. Maybe Sasha gave him a pass because he was high. Either way, you figured they were very dysfunctional. But why were you so invested in trying to figure them out, or rather, figure him out? You decided to think about that question in the morning as you drifted off to sleep.

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#farleigh x reader #farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x you #saltburn #farleigh saltburn

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