#So i apologise if im off base

[stompingdvds]

hey im a white queer so maybe im calling a spade a spade but bucktommy feels like such a white gay ship. like we made the attractive white guys kiss so lets pretend the racism plot was resolved offscreen.

[pbnmj]

what was supposed to just be pavitr and meera jain spiralled into a LOT of spiders in formalwear/red carpet outfits.... most of them referenced off met gala outfits and then adjusted to suit my own tastes LOL

[artem1sc0re]

I’ve reached the stage of watch dogs brainrot in which I’ve began to headcanon them as secondary school (highschool) students; including deciding on the subjects they’d do, what they get up to, etc.

I’ve spent the entirety of my week doing this so I hope the brainstorming somewhat stays accurate to the characters (if not criticism is accepted!)

So ermmmmm here’s the appearances

Clarification; I’ve had to make a couple of almost drastic altercations to Ray’s, Clara’s and Sitara’s designs because of uniform regulations; their canon styles are flashy/unprofessional and wouldn’t exactly be good representation of the school, as well as Ray’s hair possibly being too long/disheveled (because uniform regulations where I live are THAT strict that they dress code hair length on boys as well), so I apologise if there’s any inaccuracies with the characters🤧🤧

Here’s their year and the list of subjects they’d do (just as context before you read the transcript):

Aiden is a lower sixth; on his first year of A levels:

A level - Sociology, IT, Chemistry

GCSEs - IT, Double science, Home Ec & H&S

Ray is an upper sixth; studying A2 level:

A levels - IT, Design and technology, Physics

GCSEs - IT, Physics, History, Chemistry, Design and Technology

Jordi is a lower sixth; studying AS level (most of his GCSE subjects were filler):

A levels - IT, Chemistry, Spanish

GCSEs - IT, double science, Spanish, further math

Clara is a lower sixth, studying AS level:

A levels - Art, IT, sociology

GCSEs - Art, IT, design and technology, double science

Watch dogs 2 dedsec:

Marcus is repeating his first year of GCSEs (partially to get another chance at a better score, another part to stay by his friends):

GCSEs - IT, Media studies, History, Politics, single science

Wrench is repeating his first year of GCSEs (his scores were ridiculous /neg)

GCSEs - IT, Media studies, geography, Double science

Josh is repeating his first year of GCSEs (he’s a perfectionist and as much as resitting exams exist, he insists on staying back 1 year):

GCSEs - IT, Media studies, HE, Double science

Sitara is studying the second half of her GCSEs:

(Chosen) A levels - Art, H&S, Media studies

GCSEs - IT, Art, H&S, single science, further math

Horatio is studying the second half of his GCSEs:

(Chosen) A levels - English language, H&S, IT

GCSEs - IT, H&S, History, double science

Transcript for those who cannot read my handwriting:

(Photo 1)

Aiden

- face is always cold so he wears the mask to keep himself warm (and possibly to accessorise)

- cut thumbholes into his jumper/sweater for comfortability (had to get Clara to stitch it evenly)

- has a natural resting bitch face, makes it almost difficult for him to be read emotionally via expression

- if he isn’t revising for chemistry or doing IT coursework during lunch, he’s hanging in the art rooms with Clara

- low-key has a crush on Clara… (Jordi frequently teases him about it)

- confrontational; if it affects him or the people he knows he WILL stand up for himself/them, even to teachers if he has to

- shares chemistry classes with Jordi (who frequently yaps to him in those classes)

Ray Kenney

- has acne w/ growing beard/stubble

- couldn’t style his hair so he stuck with a mullet

- goes to a different school but turns up for shared education classes

- makes a business of selling his study notes (basically photocopying them then selling them)

- IT prefect

Jordi

- definitely was some form of a greasy kid during his first few years but then had the craziest glowup during sixth form -> no one bullied him because of his tendency to bite back. Hard.

- sells contraband around the school building -> no proof that he does sell it as he’s always subtle with his locations, changing around where he sells and hiding his stock pretty well

- the type of guy to shove you ten times harder in the corridors if you shoved him (intentional nor unintentional, and yes, people shoving people in the corridors is quite common at least in my experience 😭😭)

- can be a class clown but the teachers have no reason to tell him off as he gets work done and has surprisingly good test scores

Clara

- is pretty neutral when it comes to the dress code, even subtly bending the rules to her liking

- busy asf doing art or studying, though does appreciate the company given from time to time whilst she works

- shares sociology classes with Aiden

- organises revision sessions for IT with Aiden (and Jordi; he seems like the type of guy to third wheel for the shits and giggles but also to study too)

(Photo 2)

Josh

- NEVER wears his blazer; finding the material to be too heavy

- always wears his beanie; if told to take it off he’ll proceed to put it back on the next class

- always ends up in the SEN (special educational needs) office frequently due to lack of co-operation

Marcus

- ABSOLUTE hype man during exam season

- Always instigates study sessions with the dedsec group

- mostly because he himself barely studies and usually he’ll sacrifice sleep to study

- Debate club member

Wrench/Reggie

- was able to get privileges to wear his mask

- most of the time gets dress coded for his pins or any other accessory he decides to wear almost on the daily

- decorates his blazer and bag with pins and patches

- when given an assistant under the name of ‘entitlement’ even when he declined, it painted him as an absolute ass due to his aggressive behaviour and lack of co-operation

- same as Josh usually ends up in the SEN office due to lack of co-operation

- draws on arms and hands frequently when bored + to retain attention

Horatio

- Similar to Sitara, is the more studious one of the group and makes sure to remind everyone of homework, school events + staff training days

- school council rep

- same as Marcus; is a debate club member

- Seems like the type of guy who’d know a lot about the teachers and would be able to hang around them due to being on their good side

Sitara

- Similar to Horatio; is the more studious one of the group

- has learned ways with bending the rules of the dress code with subtly hiding highlights, piercings and makeup

- Reminds the group about homework but usually sends the answers if nobody has it done

Some extra headcanons:

- Sitara uses sparkly highlighters when making revision stuff

- Wrench gets agitated with crowds in the cafeteria so Marcus helps get his food

- Jordi partnered with Aiden in chemistry classes primarily because Aiden low-key has leverage over him (by leverage I mean he basically knows the location of his batches of contraband)

- Marcus thrives in English language, especially in speaking exams because of his infectious nature and confidence

- everyone asks Josh for help in IT classes due to how good he is at it (they all share the same IT classes)

- if the WD2 dedsec all in separate classes, they have a collective oneNote document to make shitposts on and contact eachother with

- Wrench goofs off at various instances during revision sessions, even singing brainrot or catchy revision songs that pop into his head

- Marcus is NOT subtle with taking his phone out, that guy’s on it during break where teachers can see

- Ray knows what cars the teachers drive.

- Jordi never keeps his opinions on everyone and teachers to himself. Bro would not care if the teacher was right behind him. They call him a motor mouth for a reason

- Give Josh a swivel chair in a computer room and he will NOT stop spinning on it unless the teacher is talking

- if there’s a substitute, Marcus and Wrench watch stuff on YouTube during class

- Wrench doodles on textbooks that get reused (on a novel, he leaves comments and small doodles)

- Sitara vandalises science tables

- when Jordi, Clara and Aiden do revision sessions, Jordi tries to tease Aiden’s feelings towards Clara whilst the both of them drown him out; if he’s not doing that he’s studying with them and being the one asking the questions and shooting one or both of them a shit eating grin when they get an answer wrong

- Wrench does exams in a separate venue

- Marcus cannot study by himself unless he’s with the company of his friends, or unless he’s pulling an all nighter for a subject he cares about

- Marcus and Sitara take the same bus and stop at a local shop to buy sweets and snacks for everybody; tldr they are walking food banks

- Aiden is secretly a choir kid

- Jordi the type of guy to steal his friends’ food if he’s too broke to buy any or if he just couldn’t be bothered

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ EVERYBODY TALKS (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels

a/n: this was one of my wips i posted foREVER ago so enjoy the full one shot whilst i finish off some written stuff. based on everybody talks by neon trees🙇‍♀️🤍

*faceclaim (but imagine as you see her fit) is millie hannah

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by alex_albon, danielricciardo and 451,608 others

landonorris boo’s birthday

view all comments

alex_albon here’s a thought stop calling her your boo and actually make her your boo

this comment has been hidden by the original poster

user did anyone else see that comment or am i making things up

user bro just ask her out i swear to god

user last photo is feeling very intimate mr. norris

alex_albon happy birthday y/n/n, please don’t get me super drunk tomorrow

user i saw that last comment mr ur not slick

yourusername no promises albono i intend to do a lot of shots

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 47,009 others

yourusername y/n’s big birthday bash🪩

👤 tagged landonorris, friend1 and 6 others

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landonorris did u run to the bathrooms just to post on instagram

yourusername stfu and order me shots

user is anyone else now thinking about how often y/n probably sees lando shirtless👁️👄👁️

user i’ve been thinking about it since she first posted that photo of him in the gym showing his abs

user @/user TAG ME IN THAT WTF

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 43,001 others

yourusername 💋

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user MA’AM YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLY ATTRACTIVE

lilymhe is that the lip combo i suggested because GIRL IT SUITS YOU

user lando MOVE i want her too

landonorris pretty

landonorris where are you off to?

yourusername meeting that friend i told you about on my bday!

y/n’s texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 45,610 others

yourusername race days

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maxverstappen1 you’re a jinx. never come again

maxverstappen1 (it was lovely to see you)

yourusername hope you enjoyed your time in the garage🥰🥰

user come to every race you’re good luck

user personally if my best friend was super hot and came to cheer me on looking that good i’d cuff her but maybe lando’s different

yourusername nah he’s just oblivious

landonorris @/yourusername HUH

yourusername @/landonorris i said what i said

tmz just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername responded: yes, literally everyone.

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 500,018 others

landonorris lando: 1, friendzone: 0

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user FUCKIN FINALLY.

user @/yourusername i could treat you better

alex_albon you’re not really winning if you’ve been pining over her for two years mate

landonorris shut the fuck up before she sees this

yourusername @/landonorris TWO YEARS??? TWO YEARS AND YOU SAID NOTHING????

user uh oh. lando’s in trouble

————

a/n: this was… weak i apologise im still settling in😭 just wanted to put something out whilst i finish my charles/seb/lando written one shots eek!

as always any reblogs and whatnot appreciated. big love xx

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

[filibusterfrog]

this isnt an ask but more of a confession because in 6th grade i saw your dragonborn heads and traced them really hard and i feel really guilty now because i based my entire artstyle off of those heads and i needed to tell you that holy crap i love them and also IM SO SORRY FOR TRACING THEM BUT THEY WERE NEVER POSTED ANYWHERE

tracing is good when you are an art baby! nothing to apologise for esp if you didnt post them anywhere, im happy to hear they helped you on your art journey

[vigilskeep]

hey harker! very much enjoying the lucanis/illario/general crow posting, and im gonna encourage more: now that you’ve had some time to sit with the game i was really curious to hear more about your opinion on lucanis becoming first talon. i can’t help but feel like it’s completely glossed over that lucanis is definitely going to get chewed up by this job in most save states. i have mixed feelings about it personally - but setting those aside because i’m asking about yours.

i TRULY cannot express this enough: that villa is a tomb and if we do not get him out of there we are burying him in it

lucanis does not want this job. he has straight up canonically always avoided thinking about this by assuming he would die before it becomes something he has to deal with. he reacts with paralysed disbelief to being given it and seems to have barely registered it for the rest of the game. and even if he did want it, lucanis is not capable of this job. none of his skillsets are managing people, or making ruthless calls, or watching out for himself. the only driving force behind him being pushed into this is caterina, who will not be around to do the admin and protect him from external threats forever. and she only wants him to do it in the first place because she had a good heir—his mother—and has needed to project that dead daughter onto lucanis for his whole life, to believe she hasn’t already gambled and irrevocably lost her family’s future decades ago. but lucanis’ incapacity to ever say no to her, which is what lets him stay that eternal teacher’s pet, is one of the most obvious shining examples why he would be so bad for the job!

it would be an uphill battle for anyone to recover control of an assassin house that until last week was being run by your cousin who tried to kill you. it would be an uphill battle for anyone to lead the crows in the aftermath of the antaam occupation. it would be an uphill battle for anyone to cope with the fact that relying on viago and teia—which lucanis with his resources and skills has no choice but to do here, even if he didn’t simply like them and make choices based on liking people because he is not a strategist—presents them as an alliance that any other ambitious talon must cut down to get anywhere. three out of eight of the talons is such a ludicrously dangerous number. it does not take an overwhelmingly brilliant mind to notice that there’s more of us than there are of them

the best man for the job would still be fighting for their life, and lucanis is far from the best man. caterina was! and she still lost five children and six grandchildren holding it! that’s so many! have you guys ever seen that one post about people who kept getting a new outdoor cat every time the last one got eaten by cougars and it was pointed out they were basically just feeding cats to the cougars. that’s what caterina dellamorte was doing having kids

the points in lucanis’ favour off the top of my head are the weight of the dellamorte name and reputation, that his victory over illario was decisive and public, and simply the fear factor that he is a god slayer and, lest we forget, a fucking abomination. is that enough to keep him alive? for how long? under what level of constant anxiety and moral degradation for his very soft over-caffeinated heart? all for the questionable gain of several large and empty villas and the privilege of dragging out the slow and lingering death of a family that, you guessed it, you love it, it’s the thedas favourite: has no! next! generation! heirs! at all!!!

(unless illario has a bunch of kids somewhere. i think that would be objectively pretty funny, a sentence i managed to type most of before feeling ill. oh god we need to get them out.)

i apologise that my tone here is somewhat hysterical but i have been living in the mind of my rook, a character very aware of the realities of crow politics who loves lucanis very much. it does not surprise me that lucanis was once again incapable of even conceptualising saying no to his grandmother and accepted the title, or that the idea of abandoning her legacy and his family would seem insurmountable to him when he has been raised to believe it’s all he’s for and he is the last one shouldering the weight. but i am saying this with total and absolute confidence: this is another prison and he is going to die in there if nobody gets him out.

[blingblong55]

Good girl behaviour -Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW

Based on a request:

God I need Ghost to fuck the reader out of jealousy, but denying every fucking orgasm, and when the reader apologies for flirting with someone to have his attention, he says "Apologizing now won't give you an orgasm little bitch"

F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, jealous!Ghost, denied!orgasm, rough!sex, fingering, dom!Ghost, degrading, oral!sex, establish!relationship

You have been needy all day, you wore the pretty little skirt he likes but still, he didn't pay attention to you. You wore the shirt that shows your cleavage best and still, he didn't pay any sort of attention to you. That was until you two went to the market, he wandered whilst you talked to the man in the aisle, moving certain ways which made him notice your body more. Your voice so soft and innocent, "can you reach for that, im not as tall as you~" you get on your tiptoes to demonstare and thats when Simon comes in, grabbing the item and walking away with you, his arm snaked around your hip.

At home, he fingered you too much and each time he knew you were close, he would slap your tits and stop. Three orgasms were denied and by some point, he had you on your knees. A collar around your neck, leash on his hand as he watched you whimper. "Don't act innocent, R/N." he tightened his grip on the leash, choking you more. You give him a pouty lip, and you knew best, no brats were allowed in his bed. "You're nothing but a useless cum slut, R/N." he spits out. You whimper once more and he slaps you lightly and chokes you with his hand.

"You know I won't let you cum for what you did back in the market, sluts like you are worthless and don't deserve to cum, especially when they know getting fucked by me is a privilege." Your eyes pleading for any form of release, your pussy against his boot, the aching clit of yours screaming for him to fuck you. But that is how he is, training you to be the ideal cum slut for him. "Do you think I'm going to give you want you to want when you whimper?" he chuckles and cups your face, "My love, this is not how it works, not one bit, my darling," his voice smooth as silk.

"If you want to apologise, use that mouth for good," he says and you pout more. He grabs one of your tits and licks the already hard and sensitive nipple. Your piercing occasionally gets moved around in his tongue. You moan and squirm only for him to stop and get up. "Simon-"

"No, I'm not entertaining an orgasm for you and you better stay there like the good girl you are."

Minutes later, he comes back, cuffs in one hand whilst the other holds his drink. He sits down, "Make me cum first and I'll maybe think about fucking you." he unzips his trousers and you knew the drill by now. So, you reach for his cock, taking it out and before even daring to let your lips touch it, you look up at him. "Do it, darling." he nods and your tongue licks his tip.

Soon enough, he fists your hair, pushing you deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag and drool all over his shaft, your throat a guaranteed soreness for tomorrow. The stickiness of his body mixing with yours. He pulls his cock out, letting you breathe, "You're doing so well my darling, but take me like the cum slut you are, don't want to disappoint me now, do you?" You shake your head and he smiles, a soft kiss on your forehead and he goes back to that fucking you.

You mascara running down your cheeks, he wipes them off, "you're being so obedient, my love." he whispers as you continue to get throat fucked by his massive cock. You gag more, the wet noises filling the bedrom, your red tits getting abused by his constant slaps. He then chokes you, adoring how you gagged more on his cock and the feeling it gave him bringing him more pleasure. Once he begins to cum inside of you, he slows the thrusts and pulls his cock out of your mouth.

The white and stickiness of his seed falling down your face like drool. And before you can react, he grabs your hips, and with a desperate move, he slams you on the bed. Your back on the soft blanket, your thighs on his sides as he removes your panties, two fingers inside of you before he begins to eat you out. His tongue already savouring your juices, your clit swollen and ready to be fucked and pleased. "Beg me to suck on this precious clit, darling." he looks at you, you are already a mess and can only nod. He slaps your pussy, "I said beg, bitch," voice low with a growl. "Suck my clit, please, I need it, please~" your eyes shut.

His tongue and mouth bring you waves of pleasure, "cum for me, sweet girl." once more being soft to you. Your clit is beautifully pleased by him, and your body reacts towards the need that you have to finally cum. "Cum, please, I need my little doll to cum." he coos. A knot in your stomach, your fingers gripping the bedsheet underneath, your moans loud, too loud it makes them sound very pornographic. "Say you belong to me," he demands. You look at him, eyes almost unfocused from the incoming orgasm, "i belong to you!" you say between moans and whimpers.

"Fuck!" you cry, your legs feeling weak, his mouth not stopping. And then you let out a gasp, your eyes shut and you finally have your much-needed orgasm.

Your slick coating his lips and tongue. He licks his lips, and looks at you, eyes soft but still with that grin like the devil. "My my," he lays next to you, arms wrapping around you, "You did such a good job, my sweetness," he whispers as he kisses your forehead, a blanket covering your delicate body. "You are my life," he kisses your forehead again. "You belong to me, don't you, R/N?" his calloused hands caressing your soft skin. "Yes," you kiss his hand and he smiles. "Good, that's good my girl."

@liyanahelena @urmajestyzel @karurururu @hope-3429 @ghostslillady @alxexhearts @muffinsncoffee

[wintersoldiersoul]

Bucky x reader- super angsty but fluff ending

In a relationship, bucky doesn't want reader going on mission because it's a hydra Misson, they argue and don't talk to each other, bucky hears reader get hurt and he hears her say "im sorry buck, i love you" and then her comms go out and he can't do anything to help because he's pinned down and by the time he gets to her she's bleeding out and passed out and bucky is breaking down apologising and saying he didn't mean anything of what he said etc and I dunno how you would wanna end it

A/N: So sorry it took me so long to get to this request!! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, throwing up, lots of angst and fluff

“Bucky, stop it!” You shouted. “I’m going on this mission, okay? I can handle myself.” You had been having this fight all morning. The mission you were going on was extremely dangerous. You were basically marching right into the center of Hydra. 

“I am begging you,” Bucky pleaded. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“You do realize I’m a superhero in my own right? I don’t need you to protect me!” You snapped back. You knew he just wanted to protect you, but the fact that he acted like you weren’t capable of this made you angry. You had spent years fighting with the Avengers back when he was still the Winter Soldier. You had fought aliens and bionic humans and monsters. You didn’t need him to help you.

“I know but you don’t understand. They know we’re together. That means you have a target on your back. They’d do anything to hurt you because it would hurt me!” You almost felt bad but you had to stand up for yourself. You weren’t some helpless little girl.

“You’re being stupid! I thought you were smarter than this, Y/N. You’re acting like a child!” Bucky said, matching the stern tone of your voice.

“I don’t care! Let me be stupid then!” You left your room, slamming the door on your way out to go meet everyone at the jet. Bucky followed shortly after and the team got ready to leave. 

The two of you didn’t say a word to each other on the flight across the world to Europe. The tension between the two of you hung heavy in the air, casting a fog over the entire jet. Everyone could tell something was going on, but no one dared to ask. Your relationship was incredibly passionate - full of love that could burn the world down. But the same principle applied when you fought.

You were paired up with Natasha, splitting off from Bucky, Steve, and Tony when you arrived. You subtly snuck around the Hydra base, using your spy skills to remain hidden. You had been trained by the Red Room like Natasha, turning you into a silent killer full of stealth and surprises.

“Status?” Bucky spoke through the com device in your ear.

When you didn’t immediately make a move to respond, Natasha filled him in. “There’s agents everywhere. We’re hidden right now but we gotta make a move soon.”

“Same here,” Bucky answered.

An agent passed by but didn’t spot the two of you. All at once, you and Natasha passed, jumping onto the man's shoulders from behind and snapping his neck. “One down, a hundred to go,” you smirked at Nat. You could do this. You could prove to Bucky that you didn’t need his help.

Steve updated everyone, panting through the coms that they were deep into battle now. You and Natasha took a more subtle approach, trying to remain as hidden as possible before sneaking up and stealthily taking out agents as you could. Everything was going well. It was all under control.

Until you felt the gun against your head.

“Don’t move a damn muscle,” a low russian accent purred in your ear. “I’ve got you right where I want you,” he said, dragging the gun from your temple around to the base of your neck. Your arms were pinned behind you. You couldn’t move.

Natasha was too far away, locked into her own battle with an agent. A battle that she was winning but one that could easily go wrong if she turned her focus. You wanted to scream out but you were terrified that if you did, the man would shoot.

In the blink of an eye, the man who was holding you pulled out a knife and sliced your thigh deeply. You couldn’t help the cry that escaped your mouth as he did it, grabbing Natasha’s attention just as she finished off her victim.

“Y/N!” She ran over to you but was sidetracked by another agent stepping in her path.

“What’s going on?” Bucky’s voice rang out in your ears. “Y/N? Natasha?” Panic was evident in his voice. “Someone talk to me!”

“Bucky!” You cried out, hoping he would show up any second to save you. “Help me!”

The Hydra agent laughed, hearing your calls for the man. “You’re Barnes’ girl, aren’t you?” He laughed, coldly. “Oh, we’re gonna have fun.” His voice sent chills down your spine.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Where are you?” His voice came through your ear.

“I-I don’t know!” You answered. “He-has me!”

“I’m coming, baby, I’m coming. Are you hurt?”

You were still terrified each time you answered, expecting that the man would pull the trigger every time you opened your mouth. But if these were your last moments, you wanted to spend them talking to the love of your life.

“Y-yes,” you choked out.

“Alright, I think I’ve been nice enough to let this go on for so long,” the russian accent spoke before ripping the comms out of your ear and smashing it on the ground.

“No!” You cried out. The blood you were losing from your leg was already making you feel dizzy. A puddle of crimson from your body began to pool on the ground. 

“I was gonna shoot you in the head,” the man behind you whispered in your ear, making you feel sick. “But it would be such a shame to mess up this pretty face.”

Before you could even register what was going on, the gun was pressed to your back and a bullet was fired into your body. He shot you two more times. The man laughed as he walked away, leaving you to bleed out alone on the floor. Natasha had left, you had no idea where she had gone. She didn’t mean to abandon you, she really thought you’d be able to get out of your situation on your own while she completed the mission.

Across the building, Bucky was frantic. “Y/N? Talk to me! Where are you, baby?” He was panicking. One minute you were talking to him and then you were just…gone. His worst fear was coming true.

He sprinted as far as he could, dodging Hydra agents left and right, taking them out with the metal arm that they had put on his body.  He swore he had never run faster in his entire life. He knew back at their post, Steve and Tony were still fighting, yelling at him as he sprinted away. He knew he’d be in trouble later. But he didn’t care. He only cared about you.

But he was intercepted by more agents. Suddenly, he was pinned down, completely unable to move. “Y/N!” He yelled out again while he thrashed. He didn’t even care that these men would probably kidnap him again. Turn him back into the Winter Soldier. All he cared about was reaching you.

He tried as hard as he could, thrashing and squirming. Time was running out. He didn't know exactly what had happened to you, but he knew you didn't have long. Especially with the nature of the enemy you were dealing with.

After minutes of trying to escape the agent's grasp, he was able to free his metal arm, punching hard and knocking down the agent who had his legs. He was then able to use more strength to fight, taking down each person who had tried to separate him from the love of his life.

He was sick when he saw you, bending over to throw up at the sight in front of him. You were laying on the ground, still as a rock. Blood stained the concrete below you. He swore he had never seen so much blood come from one person at once. 

“Y/N!” He screamed out, running over to you. Your eyes were closed. “Y/N, wake up! Wake up, please!” He cried. “Oh my god, please!” He chanted over and over, trying to get you to open your eyes while putting pressure on you to stop the bleeding as much as possible. 

Suddenly there was a gasp from your frame. “B-bucky!” You called out weakly using every ounce of strength you could. “I love you.” 

“I love you, angel. So much. I didn’t mean a word I said! Please just hang on! Please! I can’t watch you die right now.” Tears streamed down his face as he spoke.

"So...tired," you said weakly, your eyes fluttering between opened and closed.

"I know, baby, I know," he stroked your hair. "But you gotta stay awake, okay? You gotta fight."

"What's going on, Buck?" Steve spoke in his ear.

"It's bad, Steve. I gotta get her to a hospital. Now," he said, through tears.

"Alright. It's clear now. You can take her."

Bucky swore time moved in slow motion as you waited for an ambulance. He held your hand the entire time, terrified every time your eyes closed for more than a second. You kept drifting in and out of consciousness even as the paramedics began to work on you in the vehicle. He couldn't believe this was really happening. If he lost you, his entire world would stop.

9 hours and an emergency surgery later, you were still unconscious but stable. He sat by your hospital bed, eyes red from crying, still holding your hand.

"Baby, I don't know if you can hear me right now," he said to your unconscious body. "But I need you to wake up. I need you to come back to me. I can't do this without you, I-" he paused as his voice broke. "I never thought I'd have any good in my life again. And then I found you. And I can't lose you. I don't know what I'll do. I don't know who I am without you." Tears wet his face as he spoke. "Please, baby. My darling. Please, come back to me."

He didn't leave your side all night. He waited and waited for hours, not sleeping or eating. He was terrified to not be watching you even for a second.

The sun was rising the next morning and he was exhausted and scared and he just wanted you. His head was in his metal hand as he cried, still holding yours with his flesh one, when he felt it. It was small, but he felt it. The subtle squeeze from your hand. "Y/N?" he said, immediately lifting his head.

You groaned softly, eyes still closed. "Am I dead?" You asked as you very slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

"No, baby," he sniffed, getting up and kissing your forehead. "You're not dead. You're alive. Oh my god, you're alive."

[whimsicalpolitical]

girl, im thinking about girlie crying (+pleading)on her knees while apologising to matty😉 that’s gonna be hot innit?

oh it’s definitely hot

content warning: 18+ mdni, dom!matty, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, swearing

"Matty." You feel like tears could spill from your eyes any second now, hoping he'll say something.

Anything.

“Please talk to me.”

Matty’s sitting on the couch in front of you, head leaning back as he takes a drag from his cigarette. He’s not even acknowledging you while you’re on your knees, hoping he’ll just say anything.

Your head is on his knee and you need him so you try to lay your hand on his thigh.

“Don’t even think about doin’ that, I’m fucking sick of you acting up you know that? Fuckin’ sick of you thinking you’re in charge, now put your hands behind your back.”

“Sorry, m’sorry, Matty.” You remove your head from him and try to keep your arms still behind your head, “please I just-.”

“Don’t talk,” he hisses, “y’know you’ve ruined my night with your little attitude. Bein’ bitchy to my friends and rolling your eyes at me like I’m a fucking dickhead? You think I’m dumb, hm?”

A single tear is rolling down your cheek as you watch him stub the cigarette out on the table next to him.

He finally looks at you when you don’t answer but just stare at him. His eyes are dark, no sign of any forgiveness towards you, yet.

“I asked you a question,” his hand grips your chin, “answer it.”

“No, I don’t think you’re dumb. I’m sorry, I really am, please.”

Your chest starts to feel tight, the pain of him never forgiving you too much. You can handle him being angry with you, he sure as hell has been before, but you're not sure how much you can take.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “that’s great, acting like a brat all night but you’re sorry.”

You feel embarrassed but Matty doesn’t allow you to look down, “you think saying sorry is apologizing you behaving like a needy girl?”

“No, I’m sorry, what do I have to do for you to forgive me?” Your voice cracks slightly, trying to hold back your emotions as you speak. “I’ll do anything.”

Matty grins, knowing exactly you mean your words.

"You needed my cock so badly, you have it, darling. Don’t expect to get a reward though." His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he subtly juts his hips forward.

“Just don’t be mad, Matty. I love you, I’m sorry.”

Matty doesn’t say anything, just hums. He knows only ignorance will punish you the way you need to be punished.

���Go on.”

Your bottom lip disappears between your teeth as you soak up his last words. Without your eyes leaving his, you reach up slowly to rest your hand over where his cock is straining against his dark jeans. He takes a deep breath through his nose as you start to gently apply pressure. You inch your hands up to the hem of his jeans and swiftly undo his belt, unbutton them and pulling the zipper down in one motion before tugging them off his waist so they're resting around his thighs. The sight of his thick cock only restrained by his cotton underwear causes you to let out a small gasp.

You look back up at Matty for reassurance and he nods, expression never faltering. Your hands rest on his lower abdomen right above the hem of his boxers, running over the sparse hairs leading down past his boxers. As you hook his fingers into the fabric, pulling them down, his fully hardened cock springs out causing your mouth to salivate at the sight.

“M’sorry,” you mumble against him.

Without thought, your hand immediately wraps around the thick base of his cock causing him to let out a low groan. You lightly squeeze, teasing him as you lean in closer. Your tongue darts out from between your lips to lick at the precum leaking from his silky smooth tip and he sucks in a breath.

"Jesus." his hand moves to rest on the back of your neck, the other caressing your cheek.

There’s his touch you need, the touch that reassures you he loves you no matter what.

You look up at him through your lashes, tongue still on his tip. You release his cock from your grip and run your tongue from the base of his tip, along the bottom of his length back to his tip before sucking him back into your mouth. The salty taste of his precum still on your taste buds as you swirl your tongue in circles and take the rest of him into your mouth in one go.

You can feel your face burning from all the tears that are flowing down as his cock hits the back of your throat.

"Don’t like you crying, darling but I have to be mean." Matty wipes away the new tears that starting to form at the edge of your eyes. “C’mon, you know exactly that you need this punishment.”

Your head moves back releasing his cock from your lips with a popping sound before bringing your lips back to rest on his tip. His grip on the back of your neck starts to tighten as he begins to lightly thrust his hips forward. You slowly open your mouth, giving him access and wrapping your lips around his warm cock again. Both your hands grip onto his thighs, holding yourself still as he slowly thrusts forward again. He lets out a low groan as your mouth encloses around his thick member and your motions stop, allowing him to take control.

"That’s right,” Matty huffs as he begins to pull back.

His hand caresses the back of your head guiding you as you open up wider and your nose buries into the sparse curls at the base of his cock. The tip of his cock prods at the back of your throat and you swallow trying to get some sort of relief. He holds your head there for a moment, relishing in the warm, wet feeling of your mouth wrapped around him before pulling back. Your cheeks hollow, sucking harder and he stops before the tip of his cock leaves your mouth.

As he pulls out, you watch the string of saliva connecting to the tip of his flushed cock break before he pulls you back in, swollen lips immediately parting for him once more.

“I’m sorry, Matty.”

“I got it, yeah? Still isn’t going to change anything, now just take it.”

You can feel tears rimming your eyes again as you dig your nails into the warm flesh of his thighs, the back of your throat is already raw. His thumbs caress your cheeks before he roughly fucks into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat once again and your eyes squeeze shut allowing the tears brewing in your eyes to finally spill over.

"You can take it." He continues the thrust into your mouth as he speaks. “Love, course you can take it, my good girl is still in there.”

You open your eyes and look back at him, he tilts his head to the side as he looks down at you, and mocking pout on his face. His pace doesn't falter, the only sound in the room is his deep voice and the filthy wet sound of his thick cock relentlessly fucking your throat.

"This the only way I can get you to be quiet, hm. Gotta have my cock stuffed down your throat for you to shut the fuck up?" The last word comes out just as he thrusts his hips, large calloused hands nearly digging into your cheek as he lets out a low grunt.

His words cause you to let out a low moan around his cock as he hits the back of your throat one last time, and you feel him tense. His head falls back, a deep growl leaving his throat before his eyes snap back to you.

“You were hoping I’ll get you on the couch tonight as well, right. That I’ll fuck you at some point tonight and that you’re going to cum for me?” He laughs, speeding his hips up and watching you enjoying making him feel good despite whatever feelings you have. “Well, sorry to be fuckin’ mean but you’ll stay on your knees for me and you will not even think about letting your hands wander.”

You nod against him and the next thing you taste is his cum on your tongue as he finishes, panting above you.

“There you go, s’what you wanted, for me to teach you a lesson.”

He pulls himself off of you, groaning as he leaves the warmth of you mouth and tucking him back into his pants.

“Am I f-forgiven?”

“Oh, love. Course you are, yeah? Doesn’t mean your punishment is over though.”

That’s alright. You think. He doesn’t think you’ll get any pleasure out of this but the truth is you do. You love being on your knees and you know he’ll spend hours making you feel good tomorrow.

“Okay.”

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 14.

Summary: Our second look through Oliver's eyes as he thinks back on the night he and Felix get champagne drunk on the bridge, and then when he gets to Saltburn. Looking around both Y/N and Felix's rooms, he gets to know more about them, and finally he meets the Catton Family.

{ masterpost }

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.

Warnings: suggestive themes, reader is said/implied to be high for some of the chapter (based on my experiences & understanding of weed)

A/N: 8506 words. you have all deserved a good feed and i am here to provide. sorry it's been a week, the dam broke, things are looking good in my personal life which is nice, and i am BACK on main fic nonsense. we get another Ollie POV, please let me know what you think, im so excited to have everyone at the estate and hanging out!! got big plans going forward!! excited to be setting it all up!! yeah please feedback, my darling friends!!

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

----

Sometimes Oliver feels like he was put on this Earth solely to exist in Felix Catton's affectionate gaze. Everything else in life is just filler.

That night on the bridge, he and Felix in suits, drunk on champagne and bathed in the twilight of the evening, will haunt him, he's sure. He welcomes it with open arms, surfacing when his mind is idle and elsewhere. Felix smiling at him, Felix trying to bring him closure even if he doesn't really need it, Felix hanging on his every word, ever story he would fabricate to keep Felix's eyes fixed on him and only him. Felix so close, Felix with his arm around Ollie, Felix's thigh pressed up against his as they sat alone on the edge of the bridge.

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Oliver feels dwarfed by him, never more so than these moments where Felix insists on occupying Oliver's personal space, and then some. But he'll never complain; Felix's affection is intoxicating, addicting even. To be so wrapped up in it, in him, it's bliss, though Oliver never wanted to seem needy for such affection, that's why he waits for these moments, for Felix to make first contact. He wonders if Felix had realised the way you so quickly had in the beginning.

Everyone reaches out for Felix, everyone else appears so desperate. Its why Oliver's always held back from touching him, always waited and let Felix make the first move. Felix was made to be wanted, he basks in it; Oliver gives him the chance to want. Isn't there a thrill in that? A novelty?

And to be wanted by Felix... That was a gift in itself too.

Oliver had, admittedly, been worried that he'd lost his chance at that. After sleeping with you, Felix holding him at arm's length, he could feel his grip slipping. Plucking at the strings of Felix's clear saviour complex was enough to claw back into his life, but he now knew his place was precarious, and most tentative of all was everything about you.

So he'd held back from you. On purpose. Often distinctly, even when you'd give these confused, disheartened looks. He tried not to look at you in those moments; his focus was Felix, Felix seemed harder won.

But when he'd tried to apologise on the bridge - at first he wasn't going to bring it up, but it was dark and he was reasonably drunk and the only person who's ever smiled like Felix had been smiling at him in that moment had been you - Felix had, at first, laughed him off. No, he can feel it now, weighing on him; he needs to balance the scales. He wants Felix so bad it aches in his bones, but Oliver knows his want goes beyond just the beautiful boy by his side. Every part of you, how you interact with the world, interact with him, the way you exist and exude confidence and love, drew Oliver in like a moth to a flame. If Felix is the hook, you were the line. The bait, and the trap. The sun, and it's warmth. He wants to always be the focus of your loving, attentive gaze. Always wants you to want him too.

Oliver is the helpless fly in the web you and Felix have woven, to be so lovingly obsessed with you both as you are, and yet still drawn further in, to love the love you share. He feels trapped and utterly helpless against his feelings for you both.

So he has to make it right. Has to make it... even? Was that how to make it right?

But Felix is different on the bridge. Different to the jealous creature he tried so clearly to hide in the weeks before. Something had changed.

"You never need to apologise for making them happy," he says easily, affectionately. Oliver tries to be insistent, that he never meant to get between the two of you. He's rambling and tipsy, but not enough to miss the faint choked noise of what Oliver could have sworn was intrigue that Felix makes at that, but he knows better than to dwell or comment on it. Instead, Felix claps him on the back; "you wanna make it up to me we can say you owe me one," he says far too easily.

"Owe you one what?" Oliver frowns, playing oblivious for a moment as he takes a sip of the champagne before Felix gives him a cheeky wink and a grin.

"Shag, of course."

Oliver does a spit take with surprise, not having thought Felix would be so casual and genuine about it, almost falling off of the bridge in the moment. Felix catches him, arm around him as he laughs through an apology.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry mate," he wheezes, carefully clapping Ollie on the shoulder, "also I apologise for assuming, poor form, sometimes I forget people can be weird about these things- not saying you'd be weird, we've just never spoken about this kind of thing."

It speaks to how much he must genuinely trust Oliver, considering how light the conversation remains. Or perhaps it's the bubbly. Still, Oliver has a little bit of an inkling about what this kind of thing may be. But part of him needs Felix to say it, to confirm his suspicions, to keep stringing him along with further crumbs of hope.

"Assuming what?"

There's a single moment, the way in which Felix looks at Oliver out of the corner of his eyes, smile briefly frozen on his face as he must be considering the weight of what he's about to say. Its in the moment that follows, when Felix laughs almost self consciously and withdraws his hand that Oliver wonders how out Felix is. Oliver had always just kind of assumed - hoped - on the basis of his relationship with Y/N, but it occurs to him that the general perception of Felix, the talk and rumours and gossip that surrounded him, never really entertained the idea that he was actually queer. Felix's affection towards everyone in his life was simply a by-product of who he was, and you're his best friend - and his cousin, according to Farleigh - so of course you don't count, and otherwise Felix Catton was a known lady's man, right?

Not quite, it seemed.

"That you'd even be into guys like that," it sounds so easy when Felix says it, like Oliver can't see the tension in his shoulders as he reaches over, taking the bottle of champagne back. Its almost empty. Oliver doesn't mind if he finishes it.

Felix looks at the sky, at the stars.

Oliver thinks about the VHS tape of Maurice that he stole from a rental store after looking at the back cover. He'd kept it stashed in his sock drawer and watched every week under the cover of absolute darkness until it literally became unplayable. Yes, Oliver liked guys, and spent his teen years having just as many lewd fantasies about boys with posh accents, and charmingly youthful features, and floppy, brown hair, as he did about girls with big, dark eyes, and high, perfect cheek bones, in bright red wedding dresses. His sisters hated Beetlejuice, thought it was gross, but he and his mother would watch it together on occasion, sharing a blanket his gran had crocheted, and a bowl of popcorn. She'd get all giggly over Alec Baldwin, while Oliver couldn't help but fall for Winona Ryder for the duration of the film, every time.

For a moment, he thinks of the sunlit kitchen he grew up in, and his mother cooking Sunday lunch with a record playing. The last Sunday before he left for Oxford. In the yard, he can hear his father mowing the lawn, and he's sure Emily is in her room packing for her own journey back to her third year of studying. But Oliver comes out of his room just as Jump in Line (Shake Senora) begins to play. Serendipity. Already excited by the song, his mother looks up from the dishes, and practically lights up at the sight of her son. She's going to ask him to dance. He's going to say yes. They're both going to love this moment; she says it's their song, and Oliver dances along to their song. When it's over, Oliver won't admit that he's disappointed it had to end, but he tells his mother he'll miss her too when she hugs him especially tightly. For that one moment he hadn't ached to leave the way he'd been for months, for years.

Looking now at the rock in the rubbish that represented his father, there's a momentary pang of guilt for lying so dramatically about him he hadn't been expecting. So he pushes it out of his mind.

Felix finishes the bottle, and Oliver watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Effortlessly beauty.

Oliver wants to focus on his future, not his past.

"Haven't got too much experience with 'em, but that doesn't stop me from liking them well enough," feeling especially bold, he levels a sly smile at Felix, "so if it's all good with you, maybe we do say I owe you one."

Felix blushes the most beautiful scarlet as he barks a loud, pleased laugh. But most importantly, he relaxes.

"It's not that hard," he offers so nonchalantly, amending with a sheepish grin, "well it is, that's part of the point -" but Oliver can't help himself.

"I said I didn't have a lot of experience, didn't say I was completely inexperienced."

"No, I know," Felix's voice turns all smug and teasing, and Oliver can feel his face beginning to heat up as he realised the implications of Felix's tone, "I've heard rave reviews." Oliver had taken the time to have his fun, to have a few hook ups here and there in the past year, usually with girls or guys from town or other campuses who had no idea who he was otherwise. There's only one person who'd be giving him rave reviews, as Felix had called them.

Huh. It's quite the compliment; he had gone out of his way to give you the kind of attention he suspected few people ever bestowed upon you, but rave reviews? What had you actually told Felix?

Instead, considering that this still feels like potentially rocky territory, he tries to bring it back.

"It's one of the few ways I ever really learned how to make people feel appreciated," his gaze drops with his tone, and hopes that Felix takes the bait. The threads that tie back to the story of his unfortunate upbringing, but also perhaps the threads that subconsciously tie his attitude and behaviour to you in Felix's mind. Even if you don't say it, he knows it's part of how you operate, and he's willing to bet that Felix had picked up on that too.

It works. Felix wraps an arm around him, assuring him that he has so much to offer the world. God, he sounds so sincere when he says it; if Oliver hadn't knowingly baited him into the compliment, he would have believed him entirely. At the very least he basks in how good it is to hear Felix say.

They talk through the night, Oliver tentatively feeling his way towards his goal, the opportunity to spend Summer with Felix too, to make sure this connection doesn't wither in the interim. Of course he plays at being humble, at refusing the offer despite how clearly uninhabitable the sob story home he'd made up for himself was, but just as he'd predicted, Felix, ever the saviour, refuses to take no for an answer. Apparently his mother has people stay for months at a time anyhow. Oliver wonders idly if that's where Felix got it from.

"Y/N will be so pleased, I can tell you that," Felix mentioned with fondness. Of course Oliver had anticipated that you would probably be spending at least some of your Summer with them, but he's surprised that when he enquires further, Felix admits, "yeah they live with me at Saltburn when we're not at school, have for ages now."

"What, all the time? They really are a ward of the Saltburn Estate?"

Felix wears a strange little smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes; there's an unfamiliar kind of melancholy that doesn't look quite right on him, Oliver thinks, as Felix shrugs again.

"Some people's parents just aren't meant to be parents."

For a split second Oliver feels a rush of guilt as he comes to realise he may have fabricated a life for himself that you had actually lived. In the moment, however, he dips his head, a sign that he understands, that he agrees.

"Then we're lucky to have you."

Felix throws an arm around his shoulders, pulls him in tightly and presses a kiss to the side of his head, assuring him it's no trouble at all.

"What are friends for?"

Yes, this moment would be burned into his brain; Felix so warm beside him, Felix smiling against his temple, Felix champagne drunk and willing to share his life, if only for six weeks. Every fibre of Oliver's being is willing it to work out, willing it to be more than just these six weeks -

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Except the minute he knocks on the doors of the house that looms so large he feels like he's about to be swallowed whole by it, he feels like he's failed a test. The look in the terrifying doorman's eyes, his tone of voice, the unflinching scrutiny when faced with Oliver's continual awkwardness and questions, makes him feel like he's failed several more in rapid succession.

Oliver's actually pretty sure he's never been quite so glad to see Felix as the exact moment he calls out to Oliver with absolute joy. Which is saying something. It's never felt like Felix is judging him, at least not in a way he can't pass. Thank fuck. Felix, in this moment, is the only one who matters, he tells himself.

That being said, Oliver had been expecting you to be by Felix's side when he'd come bounding in to save him from Duncan's scrutiny. That's generally where he's come to expect you. Not that he wasn't grateful for Felix giving the tour, it was just... unexpected.

Honestly, when you appear from a door on the other side of the long gallery, opposite Felix's bedroom, Oliver's surprised by how relieved he is to see you. The room you've exited seems to be themed in pale purple from the brief glimpse Oliver sees, and you've got a leather bound folder in your arms, but neither of those is nearly so interesting as the look in your eyes. Looking back, Oliver sees Felix lounging in his doorframe, looking between you both with patient amusement.

"Ollie!"

Oliver's pretty sure no-one in his life has ever sounded this excited to see him. The only person who comes closes would be Felix, five minutes ago.

"Ollie, oh Ollie - Fi, hold this," you pass off your folder to Felix, who of course takes it without argument, before Oliver's swept up in a tight hug, "you're early, you smell nice," you hug him so enthusiastically the two of you spin for a moment, before pulling back, holding him at arm's length like you're assessing the state of him. Instead, you beam, holding his hands as you turned to Felix, "Fi, Ollie's here! We love Ollie!"

This time when you meet Oliver's gaze, he's surprised to see not just love, but want. You'd worn that look in the weeks before the two of you had fucked, like all you could think about was how you'd once begged him to want you, and how he of course admitted he did. When had he started missing this look in your eyes? All he can think about is that night in the warmth of your bed, the way you'd sounded so fucking certain and needy - of course I want you - and how he can see it in your eyes again now. For a moment his mind and resolve is fuzzy; why had he ever stopped reaching out for you?

"We do love Ollie," Felix agreed with further amusement, and that's when he remembers. Except... this isn't the jealous version of Felix that had shown up in the aftermath. This was the Felix who'd brushed off Oliver's apologies about the whole ordeal on the bridge and proceeded to overtly, if jokingly, flirt with him. Already he feels just a touch more relaxed in this new dynamic that was being set up for the Summer.

Actually, Oliver, for just a second, thinks he may have died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck, Ollie, look at your nails," he hears next, however, and it immediately shatters the illusion as he pulls his hands away from you and your judgemental eyes.

"Don't be mean," Felix chides, and you look up with surprised, as if you hadn't realised your own less than complimentary tone. Looking between Oliver and Felix, there's apology in your eyes.

"Sorry Ollie," you're quick to offer, and he awkwardly tries to act like he's not embarrassed, "I'll give you a manicure, I can paint your nails; we can match!" You smiled brightly, hands pressed flat and warm to his chest all of a sudden, "I match Fi's shirt today; Farleigh painted my nails -" your eyes go wide as if you'd just remembered; "Farleigh; shit."

You run for the door to the blue room. Oliver, deeply confused, watches you go. Then, he hears Felix sigh with fond exasperation, holding out the leather folder. A moment later you burst through the door again.

"Documents. Shit. Thanks, Fi!"

And you're off again.

"Is this... how they normally are just at Saltburn?" Oliver finally asks with faint concern, looking from the door to Felix in the darkened doorframe.

"My lovely cousin is an atrocious influence on our dear Y/N," Felix said with incredible diplomacy. But Oliver's mind momentarily catches on the wording.

Our Y/N.

Just like before, a strange thrill, a rush; he remembers the look in your eyes when he'd first said 'Our Felix' to you. An exclusive kind of possessive, one you'd willingly share with Oliver. He liked this dynamic, he wondered how hard he'd have to push it to get beyond the simple semantics.

We love Ollie!

We do love Ollie.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult at all.

"What do you mean?" He asks instead, and Felix turns to him with that same amused smile.

"They're fine, don't worry mate, they're just high is all," clearly Felix's feelings are mixed on the subject; Oliver knows he has no problems with getting high himself, so he suspects Felix cares more about Oliver's first impressions of his home and his family than he was wanting to let on. You were his right hand after all. There's something endearing about how much he seems to want Oliver to want to be here. Which he does, for the record.

"So this is your room?" Oliver enquires, shooting for brightness, despite the momentary awkwardness. He watches the tension leave Felix's shoulders. It's enough for Oliver, and his gaze drifts, roams around and tries to catalogue every single piece of Felix he can glean from the clutter. Even with an army of servants there's something unkempt about how he decorates the otherwise old and ornate space. CDs he'll spend time poring over, stacks of books, and trinkets, and tchotchkes. Felix even has a balcony; stone railings and enough decorative chairs, and even a lounge and small table, for company.

Here and there in the room itself, however, a few things seem out of place; shoes that didn't look like Felix's sitting neatly by the door, two dressing gowns, one maroon and tossed over the bed, the other in navy and draped more deliberately over the end of the bed. Two glasses of water, one on either side of the bed. Tell-tale signs that clue Oliver in before Felix even confirms it -

"Mine and Y/N's, yeah," he says it so easily, so nonchalantly, no bothering with pretence here at Saltburn, "you'll be staying just next door," Felix continues on with a wide, easy smile over his shoulder as he continued to flit through the rooms, catching light, voice echoing amongst the decorative walls.

"Bathroom," he offers, before turning, adding, "we're going to be sharing a bathroom, by the way, I hope you don't mind," and Oliver finds himself drawn to the sight of the ornate bath, as if on purposeful display in the middle of the room, "otherwise you'd be miles away on the other end of the house," Felix explains, continuing on without even considering his words as he says them. No, of course Oliver didn't mind.

All Oliver can think of is everything that simple sentence implied. Closeness. Implicit want. A sudden flash in Oliver's mind as Felix continues through to the dressing room, of sweat beading along skin and hands clutching desperately at the cool, porcelain edge of the tub, of water sloshing and spilling and overflowing, and the sound of breathless moaning -

He tries to focus, tries to simply watch Felix's hands as he taps idly on the red walls of the dressing room as he lead into what Oliver can only assume to be his room. He stays out of his head, leans into the moment, and lets himself relax as Felix gestures broadly, brightly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Your room!"

It's bright, all wide, open windows looking over the beautiful grounds of Saltburn, honey coloured wood and lamps that glow in such a way that he was reminded of Oxford. Already someone's brought his suitcase up, set it out at the end of the bed; he'd get to unpacking that later tonight, for now he took his time relaxing into the space. Felix had already sat himself down, seemingly at home in the old, wooden rocking chair, watching Oliver, almost like he was trying to hide his nervous anticipation.

"I'm really glad you're here, mate," for just a moment, Felix sounds more honest than he'd been since Oliver had arrived. There's something in his eyes that Oliver hadn't been anticipating, in the brief moment in which their gazes meet. There's a kind of arrogance, Oliver thinks, to calling even a sliver of it something like love, but it's adoration and appreciation nonetheless. It's gone in a flash, too brief to be anything serious, he thinks once more as Felix stands, "right, I will, er... I'll leave you to it."

And Oliver is quiet. It's a kind of reverence, or perhaps it reads like shock and awe at the whole place, but he listens quietly as Felix tells him about his mother's aversion to stubble and ugliness and piercings and -

"Anything else I should know about?" Finally he asks, sensing Felix was close to rambling on a nervous tangent. Thankfully, Felix actually seems relieved by the interruption, assuring him that there was nothing else to worry about.

Felix tells Oliver that he just needs to be himself, that his family will love him. That it's relaxed. Oliver loves Felix dearly, but doubts he, a man who rarely seems to be anything but relaxed, would be the best judge of that. Especially in a place like this. Still, Oliver smiles like he believes him, and watches the way Felix hangs himself back from the door on his heels, almost like a little kid, telling Oliver that his family will be in the library when he's ready.

Library?

His mental image of Saltburn grows with each moment. Soon it will overwhelm him, he's sure.

So he tries, just for the moment, to get acquainted with the room he's been given. His own, honey-coloured piece of Saltburn, if only for the Summer. Hopefully beyond, that dreamy little voice of want whispers in the back of his mind. Another flash of desire runs through him, the image of a quiet evening on Felix's balcony, a purple sky and a glass of scotch, book in one hand and Felix's head in his lap. He'd be too big for the little sofa, legs hanging off the edge, but he's comfortably fallen asleep with Oliver's fingers carding through his hair; when you drape yourself over Oliver's shoulders, there's loving affection in the way you call them 'your boys' -

God he'd been entertaining these fantasies for months, sure, almost since he'd met you and Felix, but never this vivid, never so detailed or hard to push away, to pretend like he'd never had them when he next tries to look you both in the eyes.

Yeah, me and Y/N's room. You're right next door. We'll be sharing a bathroom.

This is either going to be a dream, or the hardest Summer of his life. Pun entirely intended.

The room itself is rather charming, once Oliver finally breaks free of his own fantasies. Charming in a different way to the rest of the house, but in a way that was hard to put his finger on at first. Saltburn was like if a place could put on a performance of itself, none of it felt lived in, or at least, not for a very long time. Except Felix's room, it had his youth and carelessness that gave it a feeling of home, as, for some reason, did Oliver's.

Except then he sees them. Then he understands. There's space stickers on the top drawer of what he can only assume is the otherwise expensive bedside table. Some are peeled off, some even leaving the ugly, half-peeled, paper residue of planets and stars and little cartoon astronauts. The second of the two drawers is in much the same state, but depicting a faded sea creature theme. It's so unexpectedly, joyfully childish. There's two books in the top drawer, a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's short stories, and a copy of Emma. Oliver swallows hard, trying not to wonder what you must mean by that. Otherwise the drawers are empty, almost hotel-like in it's severe starkness.

There's other little things, however. Fairy lights curled up and around the headboard that glow a comforting, warm white once he finds their switch. A digital clock at odds with the rest of the room's aesthetics, red numbers glowing in the afternoon light. The painting on the wall above the bookshelf that looks far more modern than anything else he'd seen so far on the walls, a rich, blue night sky glittering with stars, and a dreamy silhouette of a figure with a cigarette almost glowing orange against the darkness. Despite the vagueness of the figure, there's a comfort, a kind of love with which they'd been captured that Oliver can somehow feel in his chest when he looks at it.

The little bookshelf itself in the corner is filled with titles he can imagine you specifically enjoying, but a few anomalies here and there - books on botany and Edwardian flower code stick out in particular. It's completed with a small stack of CDs and a CD player gathering dust on top. When he crouches down, however, he's surprised to see an old, portable cassette deck taking up space on the bottom row of the bookshelf, mostly hidden behind several stacks of what appeared to be blank cassette tapes, crammed into the very corner, almost out of sight.

How strange. How... human.

There is an echo of someone else in this room, but to his relief, it feels like you. For the barest moment, he almost feels like he's already home.

It's a short-lived feeling, however, as Felix's words come back to him once more. His reflection in the bathroom mirror as he carefully rids himself of even the barest traces of stubble, doesn't meet the standards he's sure the mother of Felix Catton must hold.

Oliver's never considered himself particularly beautiful, nor did pretty much anyone else, it had always seemed. His mother was of course biased, Felix was filled with too much affection to be considered anywhere near reliable about that sort of things, and you - something inside Oliver squirms almost with embarrassment for even thinking so poorly of himself in the past few moments. Maybe a face like his would make Felix's mum happy, if the look in your eyes meant anything, every time you saw him.

Oliver chooses to leave the way he was brought in, taking a long few moments in Felix's room, leaving it untouched, undisturbed, but treating it like a museum to his best friend, clues about his life he couldn't glean from conversation alone. Felix's bookshelves were bigger than yours, stacked with comics amid countless fantasy and adventure books, but a surprising number of cowboy and western titles, though it's not as if there appears to be any kind of sorting system. There's a ceramic bowl that looks hand made, full of faded wristbands for events all over the world for the past five years. There's a shoebox that apparently used to hold a pair of lady's runners, now sitting at the end of one row that now has 'A Stupid Box For Feefs Stupid Rocks <3' sharpied on top in handwriting he doesn't recognise. A thick textbook about space on the bottom shelf with a cracked, worn spine and sticky tabs seeming to note various pages, various guitar tab books for different, popular bands that Felix would definitely be interested in. Four decks of cards stacked on top of each other, boxes looking so worn and used they were practically falling apart.

For a very long time, Oliver finds himself caught, looking at the little cork board full of photos leaning on top of the bookshelf. Countless photos of Felix, Farleigh, Venetia, and Y/N throughout the years. He hadn't realised just how long you and Felix had even known each other. How long you'd practically been a fixture at Saltburn in the Summer. There's a photo of the four of you all in your bathers, laying asleep on the grass beside the lake, all next to each other on brightly coloured towels, none of you could have been older than twelve; you fit right in along with the rest of them.

There's a photo strip, the kind taken in a booth at a mall or a museum, that Oliver thinks he recognises, but it takes him a long moment of staring at it to figure out why. It's you and Felix, and the strip itself says it's from an aquarium. Smiling. Laughing. You blurry, covering your laughter as Felix looks particularly goofy and pleased with himself, as if he'd just told a stupid joke. The last one has been ripped off.

Oh. Right. He'd seen it while snooping through Felix's wallet a few months ago; the photo had been the reason he'd put the wallet back at all. The way the two of you were kissing in the final photo, so wrapped up in each other, and love, and joy, had made Oliver feel almost physically sick with both want and jealousy.

God, he has to leave, has to stop snooping again and actually find this library and the rest of the Cattons.

Walking through Saltburn's many rooms alone makes Oliver feel like he's constantly out of bounds at a museum. There's hints of life throughout the building, but they're few and far between compared to the ornamental, carefully curated decorations of each room. Even the hints of the Cattons themselves seemed... too purposeful. The little, animated 'Catton Family Players' puppet show is the kind of thing only rich, whimsical weirdos could ever think was charming, and not just bizarre, vain, and haunting in the same way that porcelain dolls were.

But then he hears laughter, and warm chatter from down a hall, and the tinny, purposeful shouting from what could only be a movie or TV show. It sounds so much like his own family's living room on a cheerful evening that it's almost relaxing. Almost.

Because as he's approaching, he realises they're talking about him. They're picking apart the life he'd fed Felix as if it were mere gossip, speaking so airily, their sentiment so clearly out of touch that he'd probably find it amusing if he didn't have to pretend to be living it. Briefly, he wonders if they spoke like this about your life, or if the novelty of you had worn off in the years before. Perhaps you were just glad they could focus their pity and unapologetic classicism on someone else for a change; he couldn't hear you in there, which surprised him. Maybe part of him had expected you to defend him the way you had back at Oxford. Maybe you don't feel like you can at Saltburn. At least Felix sounds embarrassed, irritated as he admonishes Farleigh for having told the rest of the family.

Before he enters the library where the rest of the family has gathered, Oliver pauses by the door, both to get a better idea of what they're already thinking about him, but also because he'd spotted someone watching him from one of the adjacent rooms.

Bleach blonde hair, stars clinging to the tights on her legs, she's reading a book that Oliver can't quite see the cover of. Venetia was written on the collar of the little, blonde puppet in the Catton Family Players; Oliver suspects this is her. Oliver thinks she could be considered very beautiful, if she didn't seem quite so sharp. The way she huffs a laugh and wears a dangerously amused smile after she'd taken her own time in analysing him seems to prove as much. That being said, Oliver's not sure if she's laughing at something about him, or about the fact that they can both clearly hear her family's disparaging remarks about his apparent upbringing.

"Farleigh seems to think he's ghastly," Oliver hears a woman say as his hand comes to rest on the door handle, "why are you and our dear pet even friends with him, darling?"

"Dirt poor, not attractive, and his parents are drug addicts," a second woman's voice seems to surmise as Oliver lets himself into the room, "I can't actually -" but Felix makes a noise as he sees the door opening, and the woman goes quiet as Oliver peers in.

"And here he is now," Farleigh sounds as thrilled as he ever was to see Oliver, "we were just talking about you," like he's trying his best to make Oliver feel as unwelcome as possible. It's... kind of working. Bastard. However looking over at him does solve one mystery; you and Farleigh are sharing a sofa at the back of the room that's only just big enough for the both of you as long as you're tucked up against him, his arm slung over the back of the chair behind you.

And you're fast asleep against him.

The blonde woman on the sofa who shares Felix's elegant, effortless beauty admonishes Farleigh, even though Oliver can tell from her voice she was one of the ones very much talking about him only moments before. Oliver has the grace to pretend like he hadn't heard, though is still glad for the vaguely embarrassed, apologetic look Felix is already giving him.

This has to be Felix's mother, the blonde with the airy voice who immediately gets up to greet him, to assess him.

"Oh, what beautiful eyes," oh thank god, "oh, how wonderful!" There's genuine surprise and adoration in the way Felix's mother regards him, and Oliver can't help but feel relieved, like he's finally passed the first of what he's sure will be many tests during his life at the Saltburn estate.

"Yeah, we told you he wasn't a minger," Felix pointed out when his mother turns to him.

"Oh, but darling, you and pet are kind about everyone; neither of you can be trusted about those you're fond of." Pet? Does she mean Y/N? Suddenly Farleigh's comments over the months make a strange amount of sense. At the very least Oliver's heart begins to sing at the idea of you and Felix speaking so kindly of him to the others that they know you're both especially fond of him... And you both seem to think he's beautiful enough that you mention it when he's not around. Huh.

But yes, the moment the woman explains her aborrance of ugliness Oliver knows he's talking to Felix's mother. At least she seems to like him well enough, going so far as to ask if he'd seen Venetia yet, that even she'd been dying to see him, but had chosen to drape herself around the house as if laying in wait for him. Indeed that's how it had seemed when he'd spotted her earlier, but none of them have let Oliver get a word in edgewise.

Felix's father is the next to introduce himself, all long limbs and warm handshake to match his smile, just like his son. When he asks Oliver about his trip to the estate, Oliver finally breathes, can finally respond.

"Oh, God, don't with the 'sirs'," Felix's mother waves him over to sit down, insisting, "no, no, no, we can't stand anything like that here," though her outburst seems to have been enough to rouse you. As Oliver sits, he hears, syrupy and warm with sleep from behind him -

"Ollie!" As you had each time since he's arrived, you sound so genuinely delightful. Farleigh makes a noise in the back of his throat. Oliver turns in time to see you elbow Farleigh in the ribs.

"I liked you better when you were asleep."

"Fars," your voice drops low, like a warning, and Oliver's surprised by how sharply Farleigh looks away, jaw clenching tightly, "be good." Oliver almost thinks Farleigh might be angry, but then he sees the gentle way Farleigh's holding your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles against your upper arm; from what Oliver can see, he realises Farleigh's expression is almost embarrassed -

"Children, stop bickering," Felix's mother orders brightly, and your expression returns to unbothered and chipper as you refocus on Oliver.

"Hi Ollie," again, then as more of an offer to the rest of the room, "isn't he just lovely?" Oliver flushes, but gives you a fond smile, even as you settle back against Farleigh. Even though Farleigh persists with glaring at him, when he turns back, he rests his cheek against your head, oozing malevolence as he seemingly tucks himself against you too. But he does indeed remain quiet.

After the altercation passes, Oliver gets a brief introduction to one of the other house guests at Saltburn, Pamela, brief being the operative word as she's quickly sent away to ask about tea from one of the staff members at Felix's mother's insistence. Pamela herself doesn't exactly seem confident in the task, but that's once again when you speak up. Much to Oliver's surprise, you give a detailed physical description of the woman - Annie - and succinct directions to the kitchen itself, following it up with a yawn and -

"The Irish one, a bit mousy, might have trouble meeting your gaze but she's nice enough."

Pamela looks far more confident thanks to your directions. Oliver's genuinely shocked at your level of detail and knowledge, but everyone else seems to be so casually used to it.

"She is a bit like that, isn't she?" Felix's mother muses with an idle air, and when Oliver glances back at you, you still have your eyes closed, as if close to falling back asleep, while Farleigh has his faint, fond laughter pressed against your temple.

Before Oliver can even reckon with the moment that had just come to pass, Felix's mother is regaling him with all of Pamela's dirty laundry, before she dives right into pitying Oliver himself, and the sob story of his life and most recent 'tragedy' she's heard.

She looks at him just the same way Felix had. He think of the moment he'd decided to commit to this Dickensian kayfabe, that day in the pub when Felix's eyes were fixed on him, all pity and desire and a desperate need to fix, to save, to be a light in Oliver's life. The way this woman speaks, the way she looks at him in this moment, makes Felix Catton make total and complete sense. Something inside Oliver relaxes; she would not be hard won.

As they circle back around to the tragedy of poor Pamela, however, something about what Farleigh says, pointing out that the tragedy of her was the only interesting thing about her, sticks in the back of Oliver's mind.

Being beautiful and tragic would only ever get him so far, would only ever make him a novelty. It takes another glance back at you for him to realise a little more of why you behaved the way you did; tragic and beautiful and useful. That's the thought that turns over in his mind, even as Felix's mother starts her line of questioning about the sordid details of his upbringing, and Venetia joins them only to stare at him like a bug, and Farleigh only seems to be holding himself back from outright contempt at your behest. You are once again asleep. At least Felix makes a token effort to reprimand his mother, not that it appears to make much of a difference.

Oliver offers what little he can get away with, and feels only relief when Felix insists they start getting ready for dinner. Oliver practically bolts, he doesn't even wait for Felix like he probably should have, just desperately hoping he's got the right door to his own room. Clearly he has, swearing when he's finally in his little piece of sanctuary, but after a beat he realises that even that has been breached.

His suitcase is no longer at the foot of his bed.

In another moment, the door that connects his room to the bathroom squeaks open and there's two more people in his room without bothering to even knock. At least Felix is apologising for his mother. Part of Oliver thinks he should have expected the Cattons to be exactly as out of touch as this house implied, that he should have braced himself better, that it's not Felix's fault, but the apology is still nice.

Also he's rather distracted by the fact that all of his clothes have been organised neatly in the old, wooden cupboard.

"Did someone unpack my suitcase?" Oliver hears himself ask distractedly. Looking back when Felix makes a noise of guilt, he sees Felix sitting on the edge of his bed with an apologetic smile, and you next to him, laying back on the bed and looking at the ceiling.

"Uh, shit, yes, I should have told you," Felix admits, "they do that kind of thing here." Rich, whimsical weirdos, the lot of them, "the maids all report back to mum, by the way," Felix informs him, while you're just quietly swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. Felix's tone turns teasing, however, "so I hope you didn't pack anything scandalous." Oliver leans on the wooden foot of the bed, into Felix's space with an amused smile at the thought - pushing his luck, pushing into Felix's space to play off of the idea of scandal, so close to Felix and his mischievous smile. Felix leans back, the tease, giving Oliver space to quietly say -

"Just my old boxers."

You snicker. Felix grins.

"No, they're used to that, don't worry," but then Felix is up again, almost too close, looking at Oliver like he knows this is all some kind of joke, like he know - like he wants Oliver to keep looking at him, at his teasing smile, at his lips like that, "Duncan will be thrilled." Like this is all a game. Oliver snorts a laugh.

But the moment doesn't last, and Felix is moving again, getting up, telling Oliver a new rule - ahead of time this time. Dinner at Saltburn is an event you dress for, with the kind of dress code that requires a dinner jacket and cuff links and - Oliver would be properly embarrassed if it didn't mean he got to wear Felix's spare jacket. Felix seems almost embarrassed by it all, his casual nature clearly butting heads with the formality of his heritage. In this moment he almost seems childish, it's rather sweet. Judging by your smile, you're endeared by his behaviour without even having to see it; you hadn't even thought to sit up; your eyes have fallen closed, as if basking in this moment.

Oliver watches you, the way you radiate contentment. You were not born into Saltburn, but you'd made it your home. You'd won the love of Felix Catton, and a place in his life, that no-one else had managed to achieve. Hope was a beautiful thing, and you were both in this moment.

"I'm really happy you're here, Ol," Felix finally murmured, and finally Oliver believes him, "I'm sorry everything's so... old fashioned."

"No," Oliver's voice is soft, "it's wonderful."

The pleased smile Felix wears as he heads through to his own room makes everything about this strange, ritualistic, obsessive, critical world worth it. Over his shoulder, he asks if you'll be coming through too, and you tell him you'll catch up in a second. Felix closes the door over quietly, and after a moment, Oliver joins you, laying back on the bed.

"I like your room," Oliver breaks the silence after a moment. After a moment, a hum that's more like a contented laugh escapes you. You mumble a thanks; it's been a few hours since he'd seen you initially, your chatter had died down considerably, it seemed like you'd sobered up a good deal in the afternoon that had just passed.

There's a million things Oliver wants to say in this moment, things he wants to do, questions he has about you, about Felix, about Saltburn.

"It's not-" he finally starts, voice so soft as he finally turns to you, "it wasn't your fault, by the way."

When you turn to meet his gaze, there's surprise and confusion in your eyes, clearly not sure what he was referring to. Its been a long time now since he'd deliberately reached out for you, since you'd slept together, since Felix had first started giving him resentful looks. Things are better now. Much better.

"What?"

All it takes is a deliberate, gentle touch, his hand taking yours, apology in his eyes. Its enough to acknowledge that he'd spent time pulled away from you, that you weren't crazy to think that, and that you weren't at fault.

Oliver's always liked watching you process things, at least when you allow the world to see it happen on your face, not making an effort to hide it. You look down at his hand on yours, grip loose like more of a reassurance; raising your joined hands like you can't quite believe the sight, he takes the opportunity to link your fingers. It wasn't your fault.

Looking deliberately back at the ceiling, he gives you the time and space to process this development without feeling so watched.

"Oh," you mumble quietly, finally, "it's..." you give his hand a squeeze, "thanks?" Oliver smiles, and knows you see it, can see in his peripheries the way you're watching him now, but when he goes to withdraw his hand, you hold him tighter for just a beat, as if on instinct, before you let him go.

"Can I be bold for a moment?" He breaks the moment, breaks the tension, voice light and inquisitive.

"I like your boldness, Ollie, you know that," you respond automatically, matching his energy easily. Sitting up, Oliver turns to fix you with a scrutinising look for a long moment, and you wait, you watch him with eyebrows raised and an amused smile painted across your lips.

"You're sleeping with Farleigh," it's not a question. Your smile grows wider and far more smug.

"Ollie - Oliver - look at me," you prop yourself up on one elbow, gesturing down at your body, "look at where we are," you gesture around at the bedroom itself, "how many Summers do you think unrelated teenagers in close proximity, growing steadily more attractive with each passing year, can get through without ending up deciding to fuck to pass the time?"

Oliver, charmed by your blunt confidence, can't help but laugh, while also being able to connect enough dots to the implication that he should expect you to be just as close to Felix's sister too. You join him in his laughter, finally sitting yourself up. Oliver knocks his knee with yours, deliberate, and watches with a kind of fondness as you immediately focus on the moment of brief contact. You'd missed him, just as he'd anticipated.

But the laughter dies down, and you finally stand, sighing that you should probably get yourself ready for dinner too. Before stepping away, you lean back down with a wide, goofy smile that reminds Oliver a bit of Felix, and gently grasp his chin, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Oliver, a little startled by the gesture but welcoming it nonetheless, feels want burn through his veins momentarily as he watches you head to the door.

"Oh, Ollie, there's some stuff under the sink for you," you yawned and stretched and Oliver tried desperately not to stare at the way your shirt rode up, "shampoo, toothpaste, contacts; junk like that, you know, just in case." Wait, what was that last one?

"Contacts?"

"Yeah," like it was perfectly fucking reasonable, your hand on the door, "in case you didn't bring any or you ran out - there's actually a spare pair of glasses as well, if you'd prefer. Same frames as yours, I wasn't sure-"

"You know my prescription?"

"Yeah?"

"How...?"

You go quiet. You shrug. Its not a real answer.

Right; a magician never reveals their secrets. Its not particularly reassuring for a man lying about a large portion of his life.

For now Oliver just tries to remind himself of the way you look at him, the way you want him, the way he loves you, for who you are, for all you can do.

"Thank you," he says quietly, gives you a smile and hopes you believe it, "you're good to me." He's not sure what about that surprises you, but he catalogues this in the back of his mind. There's something beautiful and, he suspects, rare, about catching you off guard. But your next words are enough to return the favour, have his heartbeat in his ears, hopeful and quick as a humming bird right before you leave.

"Of course I am, Ollie, I love you."

And he's not sure why, but he believes you.

[myxomycota]

i don’t get bothered when people tag my slime mold posts with fungi tags even though im autistic and obsessive abt my special inchrests im also so nice and understanding that its not a common subject matter and if you have an established fungi tag i see why you would just put it in there because its aesthetically similar + too rare for its own tag… most people dont know theres a difference which is understandable on its own but sometimes people apologise + disclaim that they know theyre different things and its just for tagging purposes which i think is funnycute bc im not mad at you or even judging you for it.. i don’t expect most people to know that anyway nor would i assume someone doesnt know they’re different things just based off a #fungi tag bc its probably just for filtering or personal reference… but i also understand the tumblr hypervigilant need to explain yourself in case sombody calls out your perceived ignorance to “learn you a thing”

[raffe156]

Spoils of War

Pairing: John Price x f!reader (Tank) OC

Warnings: Smut/nsfw, 18+, unprotected sex, mentions of violence, Possessive Price, Dom!Price, rough sex, age gap in my head Price is 41, fluff at the end

Summary: You make Price jealous, end of hahaha 

A/N: Thanks for so many likes and reblogs on my last post! Possessive Price has got me in a hold and I really like this MC and Price dynamic, got more ideas and wips for them :)    @yeyinde and @irnbru32​ this one's for you two!

Please as always comments and feedback welcome 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank

3:00am 

You glanced at the alarm clock on the small side table. You knew you needed to get up, but Price had you trapped under his arm you were tucked right into him. His soft snoring in your ear. You traced a scar on his forearm the hair had not quite grown back. The man was like a space heater, you could feel it coming off his bare chest. You were just in his T-shirt but you could feel yourself sweating. The Ac unit had broken days ago on the Los Vaqueros Base, you had asked Alejandro to fix it god knows how many times only for him to respond with “Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing so many layers querida” followed by Rudy apologising for his Captain.

You tried to turn yourself in the small cot so you could put your foot on the floor, but Price gripped you tighter to him.

“Not trying to do a smash and dash are you love?” - The sleep was thick in Prices voice. You turned your face back to him.

“Yeh your my 1am booty call John…I’ve got Ghost pencilled in for 3:30…” - You laughed, but you noticed the change in his body.

“Oh I'm joking John…I need to make sure Im at least back on my side of the base before everyone wakes up…can't be seen doing the walk of shame back from my Captain's room can I? knickers in my pocket…speaking of which can I have them back please…their on your desk” - You sat up on your elbows. Price looks over at his desk your black underwear draped over his desk lamp.

“No…Keeping them thanks…spoils of war and all that lot” - He mirrored your body sitting up on his elbows a smirk on his face.

“Spoils of war?…John you can't keep my knickers…I'll take your boonie hat then...I think I'd suit it” - You got up moving over to the desk to swipe your underwear and his beloved hat his top just covering your arse. Your weren’t fast enough he was up and already at the desk your underwear in his fist, he gave your arse a slap for good measure.

“Now now…got to be quicker than that love, even half asleep you can't beat me” - He was feeling cocky now. He eyed you up and down god did you look good in his T-shirts. He leant back against the desk you could see the outline of him in his boxers, fuck he was handsome. You slinked over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging your own elbows noses pressed together.

“It’s ok you keep them…ill ask Simon if I can have my lace ones back…” - you sighed leaving the whisper of a kiss on his cheek. You pulled away feeling pretty smug with yourself.

Why was he feeling like this? He knew you were joking, but the image of Ghost with his hand on you…you clawing at him while he’s buried deep in you. Him hearing the soft sobs as you cum saying his name…his tongue all over you…Price felt like his blood had turned to acid and it was boiling through his muscle into his bones.

“Have you seen my pants…cause your not keeping them as well…” - You looked over at Price, he looked like a storm cloud.

“what’s the matter? You know I'm joking don't you?” - you walked back over to him cupping his face. Your eyes were pleading with him. You and your big mouth. Price didn’t say a word instead he started kissing you, but it was all teeth, biting greedy, rough.

“Mhmmm….slow down John…”- You tried to pull away but he had you locked in his arms, he moved down to your neck, biting and sucking at it so it left marks. He wanted to mark you as his.

“John don’t, your going to leave marks and I'm not wearing a neck gaiter for the next few days in this heat…ahhh!” - he had bit your shoulder.

“Call me John one more time I dare you…I'm your Captain and I think you need reminding of that” You could feel him on your thigh he was hard, and you couldn’t lie it was making you wet.

“Yes Sir….Captain” - Your heart was racing.

“That’s better…on your knees” - He said pulling his cock out of his boxers, the tip already leaking, you did as you were told.

“Open your mouth…tongue out” Price could see you squirming on your knees. He was going to enjoy this he thought as he slapped his cock off your waiting tongue. You wrapped your mouth around him softly licking the underside of his head. You looked up at him as he slid further down your throat.

“That’s a good girl…” - His hand snaking up into your hair.Price growled as you took him as deep as you could, He was moving your head for you, he hit the back of your throat causing tears to well up in your eyes, he wiped them away with his thumb and pulled out leaving you drooling and gasping for breath but it was short lived as he thrust himself back down your throat and held you to his base your tongue flat to his balls. You tapped his thighs. Fuck the oxygen was leaving your brain, but you could feel how wet your were.

“Alright, easy now take a breath” - Price pulled your head back, saliva on your chin, he wanted to ruin you. You were trying to steady your breathing, you liked this game and wondered how far you could push your Captain. Price could see the look in your eye you were scheming, well he was going to put a stop to that.

“You have 5 seconds to get on the bed…or I'm using my belt on your arse”- He stepped away from you reaching for his pants to unloop the belt his cock bobbing against his stomach. You didn’t waste any time getting to your feet and crawling on to the bed where you waited for further instructions from your Captain.

“Good girl, 6 seconds, but i'll let you off this once…” - he slapped the belt together. It made you jump but the spring in your stomach said otherwise. Price grabbed your wrists slipping the belt over them pulling it tight. More marks you thought. He raised them above and over your head leading you to lie on your back arms reaching towards the top of the cot, tying the other end to the metal rail headboard. A nervous laugh escaped from your mouth. Price noticed you pull your knees up defensively. He cocked his eyebrow at you not a chance your were hiding now. He bullied his way between your thighs pushing your knees apart leaving your bare. He loved the sight of you spread out for him on display, loved the way you couldn’t help buck your hips up. Loved the way your squirmed under his gaze like it was burning you. He was right his gaze was searing into your skin causing your blood to rush and thunder in your ears. You were begging him with your eyes to brand your skin with his touch.

“Look at you…all laid out for me…or would you prefer Ghost between your legs looking at your wet cunt?” - He was smirking as he traced the inside of your thigh with his rough hand, his thumb grazing over you slit. You were feeling brave and wanted to see how far you could push your luck.

“Ghost would already be eating me out like it was his last meal” - Your grin bit at him you could see it in his eyes. Price knew you didn’t mean it you were trying to get a reaction out of him, but he couldn't help the image that formed in his mind.

“Oh I’m sure he would…in fact I know he would be, any of the men on this base would be I wouldn’t blame them either” - Price lowered his head , you could feel his breath on your sensitive skin an inch away from your throbbing cunt.

“I've seen the way they all look at you…wondering what you sound like when your moan, when your begging for it, how you would feel pressed against them tight and hot…” - Price swipes his tongue flat over your folds, flicking the tip off your clit. He takes a quick glance up at you you face is buried in the crook of your elbow, he can hear your panting the dry heat suffocating you. He’s toying with you but your answer got you what you wanted, you always got what you wanted with your Captain, his face buried in you his beard rough on your inner thighs. It was short lived just as you were wading in, Price removed his mouth and replaced it with the sting of his hand the pain spreading up your body.

“For fuck sake…” - You where reeling at the sudden shift in touch. Price gave you a cruel look as his fingers prodded into your cunt thick and heavy, curling up hitting you just right causing a choked moan to escape, his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing tight circles. You eyes screwed shut as he applied pressure to your abdomen.

“Fuck…John, please…” - Your pleas cut short as he corrected you with another slap to your pussy.

“What did I say about calling me John?…I'm your fucking Captain…”- Price was enjoying this and he couldn’t help feel sorry for you, but you need to be taught a lesson. He sat back resting your legs over his bare thighs he loved the dirty scowl on your face. He gives you that eye crinkling smile but it's laced with smugness and you wanted to kick it off his face. Before you get a chance to kick out Price lines himself up with your centre, rolling your clit with his tip coating himself with you, it sends sparks up your spine that crackle through your nerves. He slides his T-shirt up your body exposing your hard nipples kissing in-between them, rough, nipping kisses, he sucks a bit too hard on one of them leaving a pink hue that will bloom into a dark purple love bite by the time the sunrises.

“Please…Sir…” - Your begging his cock resting at your entrance you can feel your walls clenching around nothing and your really cant help let out a little sob the frustration getting to you.

“That’s a good girl…see your….learning” - Price rammed his cock in, not giving you the time to adjust around him like he usually does. No his rhythm is heavy and powerful each one you feel him at your cervix, you arch your back while your bitten breasts bounce with every thrust. You cant even choke out a moan, the sound of his hips connecting with your arse and thighs is obscene also his swings are causing the headboard to hit the wall, someone was going to hear you.

“Think Ghost or Soap could fuck you till you couldn’t speak love?…After the other night I bet they have wanked themselves dry at the sight of your naked wet body…but i'm telling you now i'm going to make sure they know how good you get it from me…” - he growls, slamming back into you making your eyes roll back in your head. Your caged under him his arms resting either side of yours, he wants to hear you, he needs to hear you. He starts to bite at your neck, licking it his beard scratches you face. There your on the edge he's dragging your walls with every pull of his hips, its pooling in your stomach your going to snap open. You want him to snap you open.

“OH FUCK!…” - You cum, your legs shaking around him its loud, but you don't care.

“Feels to fuckin good love, your so fucking tight, want me to fill you up…” - Price can feel your walls tightening around him pushing him into his own realise.

“YEs…Plea…Fuck me…i want your cum in me Captain!” - You sob the words out, desperate. Price is drunk on the sounds your making as he fucks you rough and hard, the sounds filling the small room, he groans loudly as he cums inside you, panting your name.

He falls to the side of you his cock still twitching inside you, he presses his forehead to your temple. You both try to catch your breath. Price reached up to unbuckle the belt from your wrists, the skin scorched from the rough fabric. He made a mental note to kiss them better later.

“So does this mean I can have my knickers back?” - Your voice is wrecked and dry as you turn your face into him.

“No and dont ask again” - He chuckled lifting his head up to kiss you softly this time. Priced wrapped his arm around you tightly. You were back in the same position as when you woke up you glanced over at the alarm clock 3:35am

“Shit i'm late to meet Ghost…” - You laughed ringed around the room. Price looked at you like your were deranged a smirk creeping at his mouth.

“Really woman? Your going to be the death of me?” - He nudged you back into him, You laughed.

“No really John…I need to get up…In 10mins everyone is going to be gearing up for the brief with Laswell and I don't want to be scurrying back to my room with the best part of you running down my leg thanks” - You tried to push your way up, but he was stronger despite being nearly half asleep again.

“John…really…let me up” - You really were struggling now. Price wasn’t budging he wanted you to stay there with him in your own little bubble, because once you left this room you both had to resume your roles, him making sure you didn’t get yourself killed, you barking back at him for doubting you.

He made another mental note to ask you when this was all over out on a date, dinner and drinks, but for now he was happy like this in your little bubble.

“shhhh shhh…love just give me 5 more minutes” - He felt the lull of sleep pulling at him, his mind showing him the life you both could have together, he could hear you laughing, sing song voice as you danced around the kitchen belly round with his baby glowing and beautiful, two more running at him hands open and sticky. He wanted that and he was going to do everything he could to get it.

[burnedwriter]

‘’love game’’

a/n:i  didnt think this fic was going to take me so long to finish,i apologise for the wait anyways i dont want to waste your time here is the fic.this fic is based off of a playlist on yt called playing tcg with the sumeru men.

warnings:smut mixed with fluff,foursome,c*mswallowing,rough bj,rough s*x,overstimulation,drunk sex,!gender-neutral language used.(had to censore stuff so my post doesnt get community labeled)

MDNI!

Getting invited to Al haitham’s  and kaveh’s house for a friendly tcg duel was better than you thought it would be.Sitting around a table that was used as the arena,with one glass of alcohol in hand and tcg cards on the other.The room filled with laughter and kaveh’s angry yells towards cyno who was sitting across the table,accusing cyno of cheating and hidding cards but in reality he hasnt set up his cards correctly and got unlucky with the dice placements.

‘‘Kaveh stop complaining already’‘Al haitham hissed expressing his annoyance to kaveh’s constant wining of loosing.

‘‘i will stop complaining when i finally win a match’‘kaveh spat back at him as he looked at his cards like he knew what he was doing but he had no clue what he was doing to be exact just so he could make cyno second guess but everyone could see through kaveh and make out that he was pretending.

Their little dispute making you chuckle a bit every time,getting a scoff from kaveh as a respond.

The games kept going through out the night,everyone starting to get drunk but also the tension between cyno and kaveh that never seemed  to extinguish any time soon as cyno was telling shitty puns to a very drunk and angry kaveh putting more gasoline into the fire.After playing for so many hour you got bored of playing tcg so you decide to suggest a change in the rules making the game more interesting.....

‘‘How about we change the game up a bit,im sick of playing over and over again the same thing’‘you spoke up, throwing your cards on table as you exhaled expressing your boredom.The three men raised their eyebrows curious of what you had in mind ready to listen on what you had to suggest.

‘‘what do you suggest then?’‘cyno said looking at you for an answer his cheeks flashed red against his dark complexion from the alcohol making him look quite attractive, but also making you think was it the really alcohol? 

‘‘what if we played strip tcg the more games we loose,the more pieces of clothing accordingly,are you guys in?’‘you said you could feel a mischivious smile that started to form at the idea only as you waited for the men to answer

‘’sure’‘they all said looking at eachother to see if someone disagreed with your suggestion

‘‘Let’s begin the games then’‘you said starting to fix your deck for the upcoming challenges that have yet to come.

Turning out that you had to prepare more,after the challenge started you became the second to last person that had less clothing with the first being to no suprise kaveh yet again.You and kaveh barely holding on as you were both in your underwear while al haitham and cyno havent lost a single piece of clothing.

You tried your best to hide your almost naked figure,al haitham’s gaze felt like daggers were piercing your body ,with each time he looked at you,like you were his prey ready to jump over the table and devour you on the spot but everytime you took noticed of that he would turn his vision away from you and smile like nothing happened.Cyno on the other hand was trying his best not to look at your naked figure as he was closer to you than any of the others.Cyno snaked a hand on your thigh squeezing it softly,catching you off guard you turned to look at him only to see him having a small smile at the corner of his mouth.Lastly Kaveh stubbling over his words as a red line of blush run across his face every time he faced you.

At end the atmosphere in the small room,turned  from a joyful and full of laughs to a lustful and full of lewd sounds one with cards and clothes littering the floor all around as you laid on the table on your back,your legs wrapped around cyno’s waist,as he pounded into you while your hands were occupaid with al haitham’s and kaveh’s cocks, stroking them.They towered over you placing their hands all over your body desperently grabbing parts of your flesh.

You see cyno grabbing your thighs,as his thrust became sloppier and mercilessindicating that he was getting close,his cock brushing against your sweetspot,you feel yourself closer to what would be your first climax of the night,the heat in your lower abdomen ready to snap at any moment,the same could be said for the other two men above you their cocks throbbing against your hand,With one last pump,cyno stained your inside and with al haitham and kaveh covering your exposed skin with white sicky liquid.

‘‘we are not done with you yet’‘Al haitham said pushing you back down on the table as he took notice of you getting up,he gaazed towards cynos direction giving him a sign to change positions.Now al haitham taking cynos place while cyno sat on a chair,getting a full view of the scene.Al haitham slipped in with ease,making you moan loudly and arch your back feeling yourself getting strectched, Unlike cyno,al haitham was girthier streching your walls even more than before.Kaveh’s cock touching your lips you could taste the saltyness from his previous orgasm everytime you licked them,he slowly pushed himself in your mouth slowly keeping his hips still so he doesnt gag you as he hit the back of your throat ,they waited for you to get adjusted to both of them.

After a few minutes of kaveh and al haitham waiting,they started to roll their hips into you in  a matching pace while cyno sitting on the chair,his legs spread,strokinging himself as he watched you.The two men continued to pound into you filling the room with both gagging and the sound of skin slapping.Kaveh getting overwhelmed by the pleasure turning into a moaning mess throwing his head back as he used your throat as his personal fleshlight.al haitham’s abs flexed indicating that he was getting closer.Cyno leaned against the chair throwing his head back covering his eyes with his forearm as he breathed heavily,stroking himself,low groans could be heard comming from him.

Everyone including you were close once again for your second climax of the night and with one last thrust kaveh and al haitham finished inside you with cyno soon after finishing all ove his hand and spilling some of it on the floor.Swallowing every it of kaveh’s cum before pulling  out of your mouth,letting you catch your breath and let you breath normally again.Seeing you try to get up kaveh rushed to your side knowing that you felt sore with al haitham and cyno soon after by your side.

‘‘the bathroom is around the corner let’s hope ‘’someone’‘ left warm water for us to clean ourselves’‘kaveh said antagonising alhaitham a bit in the process as he pointed to the direction of the bathroom,signing upon seeing the messy room as he looked around

‘‘after all of that you still complaining kaveh’‘said al haitham taking himself towards the the bathroom.

‘‘enough with your arguments we need to go and take a shower,here let me help you’‘cyno exclaimed with his usual monotone voice helping you reach the room as your legs were still shaky.With all of you marching  towards the bathroom slowly you started to think,who knows maybe this is a sign for round two....

[itsangelll]

hey girl i love your writing!! could you do a road head fic w 2011 tom? you don’t have to ofc but i loveeeee ur writing!! <3

A/n:of course I can thank you so so much for requesting this and your actually so sweet mwah I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞? ✪

2011 era!!

MDNI!!

warnings: smut bj dom!tom sub!femreader Tom begging reader to give him a bj

Word count:381 <3

It was late at night around 2am me and Tom were just getting back from a concert he had been begging me to give him a blowjob since we got in the car but I was too scared that we might crash “Y/nplease just this once you know you want to” he begged “Tom im way to worried we might crash I don’t wanna distract you” I said trying not to notice the large tent in his pants. (I would in a heartbeat.)

He rolled his eyes groaning in annoyance he kept his eyes on the road but Tom was fidgeting around like crazy I was getting frustrated more and more. “Fuck it” I mumbled, I took off my seatbelt unbuckling his pants leaving him in his boxers he gave me a quick glance having a lustful look in his eyes before keeping his eyes back on the road. I took his boxers off letting his cock spring free leaking with pre cum.

Christ it was big i leaned down and placed a kiss on his tip swirling my tongue around his tip, then I moved my mouth up and down the base of his thick cock. A low moan came out of his mouth vibrating against me, he placed a hand on the back on my head pushing me down filling my mouth around his whole 9 inches hitting the back of my throat making me gag.

“Fuck Schatz just like that please” Tom mumbled out he bucked his hips into my mouth tears falling out of my eyes which he loved, it was too much but it was too good at the same time he pushed my head harder and faster onto his cock. Moving in a rapid pace “shit fuck meine liebe I’m close” he breathed out with that I felt his cock twitch in my mouth his hot cum hitting the back of my throat in an instant.

He took his hand off my head I moved back into the seat breathing heavily the windows were steamed up the car smelt like sweat and sex. He titled my chin towards him and pressed a feather light kiss on my forehead we were still driving somehow we didn’t crash but we came to a parking lot.

He placed a hand on my thigh and whispered in my ear his voice thick with lust “You wanna go for another round?”

A/n: I DEEPLY APOLOGISE IF THIS WAS SHORT BUT I TRIED. I hope you enjoyed keep sending me requests cause there amazing mwah bye cuties there may be another fanfic coming out tonight!! <3

[tekesima]

PAGE 4!!!!! semester break finally so i finally got to finish this!! apologise again it took so long. I'm pretty happy with how this turned out honestly and im quite proud of it! once again, thank you to @blood-injections for letting me make this comic based off of this post! there's only two pages of this left and I'll post those last two together, for now I hope you guys enjoy this one :>

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