#oliver quick x reader

[bloodwrittenballad]

“oh that man is so fucked up”

*immediately starts reading/writing fanfic about him*

[lucky-joyous]

I’d let that little abnormality of a man do illegal things to me.

[saltburnedme]

Catch Me If You Can

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

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3533

Summary: Living at Saltburn you’d had repeated nightmares about getting lost in the labyrinth. What happens when your nightmare becomes true?

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, choking, stalking? Kind of?, being drunk/drugged, being chased/threatened with a weapon, dub con, generally fucked up smut overall, lots of mentions of blood, pray/predator vibes

You stumbled through the darkness down each twist and turn of the labyrinth, the blood rushing through your veins, that’s when you hear it. The crunch of gravel under a foot that wasn’t your own and in that moment, you knew you weren’t alone.

That’s how the nightmare always starts. You’d gotten lost in the labyrinth at Saltburn enough throughout your childhood to know never to go in there without telling someone where you were. You’d had the same repetitive nightmare for years; you’d go in and never come out. You didn’t know why this stuck with you as much as it did, but it did, nevertheless. Because of this you made it your mission to memorise every step, you knew exactly which way led to the middle, exit and every dead end, you’d walk the maze every day just to make sure that you’d never be caught out.

You’d walked it alone for years, that was until this summer. Felix had brought a friend back; you hadn’t thought much of him until he asked to walk the maze with you. It had taken a few adventures to warm up to him as he wasn’t exactly the most outgoing of men you’d ever experienced in your life, but he seemed well meaning and it was a nice change from constantly walking alone. You weren’t sure why, but for some reason he wanted to learn the labyrinth as much as you did.

You’d never accuse him of it, but it sometimes felt as if he was planning for something more. You had watched his confidence change over time as you spent your afternoons wandering with him. You told him about your nightmare in detail, he was kind and understanding, trying to reassure you that nothing like that could ever happen. Over the time in your presence, he’d gone from a quiet boy to a confident man, almost domineering you when alone but reverting into his old self as soon as you were around others. You had so many questions, you thought that he’d been holding back, and you wanted to see just how far he’d go if he really had you alone although you were certain you’d never say it or so you thought.

The summer sun beat down on the garden and the whole family had been drinking heavily consistently since noon. You’d been in and out of the lake all day, swimming for a while and then lying on the grass soaking up the sun. Members of the party came and went as they pleased until before you knew it, day turned to night. Throwing on a long white sun dress, you lay there until you were the last one left on the grass taking in the stars as you lay there giggling to yourself through a drunken haze. You’d been so taken by the events of the day that you hadn’t even realised until now that you’d missed your daily trip around the labyrinth. You knew it wasn’t a good idea, you hadn’t told anyone where you were going and although you weren’t the drunkest, you’d ever been in your life you certainly weren’t sober. This wasn’t enough to deter you though, you were determined.

Standing on shaky legs you made your way to the labyrinth with a little skip, although your nightmare was always at the forefront of your mind on any trip there right now you felt invincible. Your tipsy mind pushed any sense of danger to the background, right now all you felt was a fuzzy tingling throughout your body and an excitement for a late-night adventure. You made it to the entrance of the maze before you knew it, staring down the first path as you contemplated whether or not this was something you really should be doing. Within a split second you had decided, you were going in. You were certain, this was until something out of the corner of your vision caught your eye.

‘I wouldn’t go in there if I were you’ he says, leaning against the entrance of the maze. ‘Anything could happen in the dark’ he continues, his face lit only by the cigarette he had pressed to his lips, a wine bottle in his other hand.

‘Fuck, Oliver. What are you doing out here? I thought everyone had gone to bed?’ You asked, your heart racing in your chest. It was just Oliver; you knew you were safe with him you thought to yourself.

‘Couldn’t sleep, not knowing you were out here alone’ he says continuously smoking and seeming to be avoiding eye contact with you, staring at the ground in front of him. Something was different, you knew he was at least a little drunk too so maybe that was it, but something felt off.

‘So, you came looking for me?.. in the dark’ you reply, waiting for any kind of response but receiving none. You could feel the alcohol running through your veins, you knew that if you were sober this would have been enough to scare you and although you’d never admit it you were terrified and you thought you might even like it. ‘Well, if you don’t think I should go in there alone you could always come with me?’ You proposition, growing more giggly twirling your hair around your fingers. That drew his attention, still no eye contact but you could feel him watching you, watching the way your fingers moved together and how your dress fell against your curves as you shifted unable to stand still.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea sweetheart’ he says, taking the last few drags on his cigarette, flicking the butt off into the nearby grass. You feel a surge of confidence as you move closer to him, your body almost touching his as you lean in almost speaking in a whisper. Taking the bottle from his hand you take a large gulp, the red wine trickling down your chin staining the fabric of your white dress appearing almost like blood.

‘I think it’s a great idea’ you start, your face so close to his now that your eyelashes almost graze his cheek, pushing the bottle into his chest in a drunken attempt to give it back. You’d found him attractive for a while, he’d grown on you over the last few weeks, and you finally felt like it was happening, this was your chance. ‘I think you should come into the maze with me’ you giggle. ‘And who knows, maybe if you find me you can fuck me’ you say, that caught his attention. His blue eyes reflecting in the moonlight as his gaze meets yours, he almost looked angry.

This is not what he wanted, Oliver thought to himself, he didn’t want you, not like this anyway. He knew it was sick to think it, but he didn’t want you to give yourself to him, he wanted to take you for himself. As you flirted and giggled, he felt the heat rise in his chest, his heartbeat against his rib cage as his aggression soared. He thought of you as a pure little thing, he would have even said untouched if he hadn’t have heard stories from the others, but you seemed pure to him, nevertheless. He loved the thought of you helpless underneath him, for him to be both the villain and the saviour in your eyes. But hearing you speak like this ruined everything, you’d never spoken to him like this before, he didn’t want to hear you beg him to fuck you, he wanted you to beg him to stop. He’d come out here with a plan, he wanted to take you into the maze and rob you of any shred of virginity that you had left, but now with the way you were talking you were just a whore in his eyes. A slut that was unworthy of him. So, he stood there before you wordless, gazing down upon you in anger as his ocean blue eyes turned black, you stood looking up towards him as much as you could in your drunken state. You thought he seemed angry, but you were so drunk at this point that you wouldn’t have been able to tell either way, the alcohol from Oliver’s wine bottle hitting you way harder than you anticipated.

‘Maybe I can fuck you?’ He finally repeats back to you. ‘Maybe you’ll let me fuck you?’ He sneers as he stands straight, almost pushing you over as he moves closer, his chest pressed to yours. ‘Because that’s such a prize’ he continues, practically laughing in your face, if you thought he was flirting before you could now see, even as drunk as you were, that he was very much not happy. ‘Well then pretty thing, I think you should start running. Can’t catch you if you aren’t running now, can I?’ He says, so he does want you? You question to yourself. One moment he’s almost refusing you and the next he wants you? At this point you felt almost as much confusion as you felt fear. That was until he does it, he pushes you into the labyrinth making you stumble as he does, losing your balance ending up lying face down in the gravel as you turn back from your position on the floor to see him. With the moonlight shining from behind him he looked much taller and more menacing, the kind boy you knew was gone, replaced by only the silhouette of the body he once inhabited.

‘Go on then, run’ he almost growls out as your heart rate increases, you want to let out a scream, but nothing comes. Stumbling to your feet you immediately start running. Turning around to try and see if you could outrun him, you see him still standing at the entrance, then you hear it, the familiar sound of smashing glass. He’d broken the bottle against the statue that’s placed at each entrance of the maze, now only holding the broken neck of the bottle as he begins his pursuit towards you.

You run as fast as you can, rounding the corners of the maze in record speed. You knew the labyrinth well enough that you were certain you could get out before him, this is exactly why you’d been waking it all this time anyway. This was almost exactly like your nightmare you thought to yourself. When you first propositioned Oliver, this was not exactly what you’d imagined. You had pictured this going much differently, you’d giggle and run at an almost walking pace so not to make it too difficult to catch you. But this was wrong, he was wrong.

You didn’t know what exactly had changed within Oliver, but something was drastically off. The Oliver you knew would never have looked at you the way he did or spoken to you as he did. You were absolutely certain that your sweet predictable Oliver wouldn’t have smashed a bottle into a weapon and literally chased you down with it. While you may have practiced your escape from the maze many times, you now realise that you’d never practiced running it as you gasp for breath between each step of your quick moving feet.

Checking behind you Oliver is nowhere to be seen, your pace slowing as you think you may have lost him giving you some time to catch your breath. You stumble your way through the maze, you were sure you were about to get to the middle and make your way out but instead where the exit should be, a dead end. You were sure this couldn’t be right you weren’t lost, surely you couldn’t be. You begin to trace your steps back, finding the topiary equivalent of a crossroads. You see him but you're not sure he’s seen you, crossing in a slightly different direction heading towards the opposite side of the maze. Yet when you look another way, he appears to be walking towards you, and in another direction away from you. You swear you can almost feel him graze your shoulder as he passes you, his shoulder brushing past yours in different directions over and over again as you fall to the floor, crawling on your hands and knees as the hard gravel punctures the skin on your knees leaving behind a small trail of blood.

You knew there couldn’t be that many of him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rub your eyes. Finally, re opening them you find yourself alone, was any of that real? Was he even in the maze at all? You question yourself, your sanity in its entirety. You can still taste the red wine on your lips, you thought it tasted off at the time but now you were sure, you were drugged or at the very least incredibly drunk.

Stumbling to your feet you use the hedge to the side of you to re gain your balance. Just like in your nightmare you hear the sound of gravel crunch behind you, turning your head you catch the glimmer of light reflecting from the broken wine bottle just as he swings for your neck, screaming and running immediately as you hear his pace quicken behind you. You’d completely lost the grip on where you were in the maze, you could be at the exit for all you knew, but in this moment you just ran straight. The hedges seemed to lengthen as you ran, this singular corridor appearing never ending as you sprint. Almost as if you were in a dream you seemed to run on one spot like you were practically on a treadmill, going nowhere fast. You could hear him behind you, you were sure of it, you tried to look but the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision too much. Continuing to run forwards you feel as if you can see the light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel, you can see the statue in the centre of the labyrinth dead ahead of you, a feeling of relief flooding your senses as you head straight.

You’ve made it, you’re almost out you think to yourself. Just as you meet the edge of the hedge facing the centre he steps out, your form slamming into his unmoving body forcing you to stop running.

‘Found you’ he says with a smirk, smiling down menacingly at you as his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. You knew you were facing the statue but as he begins to back you into a corner you feel yourself walk backwards into something hard, your body slamming into solid stone. Pressed against the statue at the centre of the maze you look around confused. Where were you? Had you been in the middle this whole time? You were certain you were facing towards it but now the statue was pressed behind you. Regardless it was of little consequence, he had found you.

‘Do I get my prize now little dove?’ He asks you without really asking, not waiting for a reply he wraps his hand around your throat, the other hand still wrapped around the broken neck of the bottle as he uses it to slice the fabric straps of your dress free from your shoulders, your dress falling to the ground. His hand tightening on your throat he leans in to kiss you as you resist, biting him in response feeling blood trickle down both of your lips, the metallic taste swirling around your mouth.

‘You think fighting back will stop me?’ He questions, your resistance only seeming to fuel his desire for you as he grinds his length into your thigh. ‘You thought wrong, dove’ he continues.

Throwing the bottle neck to the floor you hear it smash against the gravel in the distance, that’s one obstacle out of the way you think as he spins you around, pressing your chest into the statue that now stood in front of you. With one hand still around your throat you hear the jingle of his belt unclasping. The swimwear you were wearing from earlier in the day still firmly held against your body for only a few more moments as you feel his strong hands rip the fabric in two, throwing it to the side as you feel his fingers glide through your folds.

‘Fuck little dove’ You were almost embarrassingly wet, you hadn’t realised it until now due to the fear, but maybe that’s exactly why you were as you were. His words coming out as almost a whisper only meant to be heard by himself. To Oliver it’s almost as if you weren’t real, your skin was so soft, your entrance was so wet and warm that he could have been convinced that this was another dream of his and he’d wake up with his hand fisting his cock for relief. But this was real, he could hear your breathing below him quicken as he pushes his fingers into you, curling them as your hands tighten on the marble in front of you.

You moan as he lets out obscenities behind you, sliding more fingers inside of your tight hole, his eyes transfixed on the way his digits glide in and out of you so easily. Eventually removing his fingers from you, his grip around your neck tightens as he pulls your back to become flush with his chest, his free hand coming to cup just below your chin.

‘Spit’ he demands, grabbing your face slightly as he waits for you to drool into his hand. You look towards his hand as you spit into his open palm, a mixture of clear liquid and blood coming out of your mouth as he quickly covers his length in it, coating himself and you in the mixture as he thrusts up into you without warning.

Although you were outside, the slapping, squelching sounds seem to echo off of the walls of the labyrinth. You can hear him groan in pleasure behind you, enjoying the feeling of choking you as he gazes down at the view of himself sinking into you over and over again. He loved seeing you like this, his hand around your throat and your pussy covered in a mixture of blood, cum and spit as he pulled you back once again. His mouth meeting yours in a hurried kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth. Both of your breaths quickened you taste his blood from his split lip once more. As soon as the taste hits your tongue you feel yourself tighten around him, his free hand coming down to rub circles into your clit.

‘Cum for me little dove’ He demands as you moan, your head dropped back onto his shoulder. ‘Show me what a good girl you are’ He prompts as his fingers press harder into you, desperate to draw out your orgasm. ‘Fuck, that’s it sweet girl’ groaning into your ear as you ride out your climax around his cock, tightening on him as his pace picks up.

His movements becoming more erratic as he works towards his own peak, your body limp in his grip as he fucks you, exhausted from your own climax and over stimulated as he thrusts into you. Your moans must have been loud enough to be heard outside of the labyrinth you were sure, and now as you feel him throb inside of you, you were certain people must have heard him too. Without warning he spills inside of you, his cum painting your walls white as he bites down on your shoulder hard enough to draw blood as he climaxes.

Both breathing heavily he pulls your head back by your hair for one last lust filled kiss. His touch almost tender as he removes himself from you. You hear him fastening his belt as you hold onto the statue in front of you for balance, all of your clothing ripped and discarded on the floor you feel him place his jacket onto your shoulders.

‘You scared me’ you say with a slightly fearful smile, the evidence of your enjoyment in your voice as you speak out for the first time since entering the maze, your tone coming out rasp. ‘Maybe we should do it again some time’ you giggle as you move your ass back against him, eliciting no response other than the sound of his continued breathing. ‘Don’t you think so Oliver?’ You ask, hoping with all of your heart that finally after all of this your soft kind man would return to you but receiving no reply.

‘Oliver?’ You question into the darkness as you turn, your eyes searching for him despite having felt his touch on you only moments ago. But he was nowhere to be seen, the only trace of him being his jacket on your shoulders, his blood on your lips and the trickle of his cum now working its way down your thigh. ‘Oliver?’ You speak out quieter. He was gone and you knew it. Gathering your things you made your way back towards the house, was any of it real?

Message to be added to the tag list! : @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirll @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey @rpgdoll @veevsterz @samosas0900 @vivalafae

[feralthoughtdump]

False God

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, smut, threesome, alcohol and ambiguous substance consumption, lip biting, a little bit of blood, oral (m&f receiving), facefucking, spitroast, a lot of bodily fluids, squirting, a teeny bit of bi!Felix, a little bit of butt stuff, not fully canon compliant (let’s imagine that Felix didn’t find out about Oliver lying)

Word Count: 2k

Felix wasn’t the type who liked to share his toys. Whether it be his girlfriend, or his shiny new friend who comes to visit every summer, Felix felt a certain possession over them that he didn’t like to admit. But Oliver came to Saltburn with that woeful, wide-eyed gaze that Felix couldn’t fully resist. He also couldn’t deny how he looked at his girlfriend and how she looked at him. All of the shared glances across the dinner table, how she’d swallow when he had something witty to say to her, how his gaze would linger on her just a little bit longer than hers. 

Felix trusted her, he knew that she’d never go behind his back. And it’s the trust he holds in her that fuels his desire to let this happen. He adores her. Especially now with her, as Farleigh calls it, slutty fairy costume, and he’d do anything to make her happy, even if it meant letting Oliver touch her in ways that were solely reserved for him.

So, the three of them find themselves in this predicament, with her draped against him, and Oliver leaning against the doorway.

“Baby, know Oliver, right?” She nods, pressing herself closer to his chest. Felix wraps a comforting arm around her midriff, rubbing circles into her exposed skin with his thumb. “It’s his birthday today, and I thought this would be a nice present.” 

His lips pressed against her neck, her pulse thrumming against them, while his hands wandered, pushing the little skirt that she wore past her hips, exposing the intricate set that he bought for this occasion. 

Oliver grins, stepping closer to the pair. He looks at her, the antlers on his head casting a shadow over her glittery doe eyes. 

“She’s a very nice present.” His fingers push at the strap of her fairy wings, letting them fall to the ground with a soft clatter. “How’d you know I was into her?” 

“Saw you looking.” He chuckles and expertly unclaspes the back of her lacy bra. “But I can’t blame you, she’s pretty.” 

His large hand palms at her now exposed tits, rolling a nipple between his fingers. 

She whines and lets her head fall back against his chest, still covered in the ribbed fabric of his tank top. 

“Don’t tease, Felix.” She sighs. 

Oliver approaches them, stripping himself of his embroidered suit in the process. The pair watch with bated breath as he sinks to his knees in front of her. He noses at the inside of her thigh, taking in how soft and plush she felt.

He savors her, kissing and nipping at her thighs, letting his fingers drift from her ankles up to her knees. As he pushes her legs apart, Felix thumbs at her pussy through her panties, creating a wet patch on the expensive lace.

“Can I give her a taste?” Oliver asks, lips parted and eyes gleaming, staring up at Felix. 

“Of course you can.” Felix carefully positions her on the bed, her back flat on the mattress and Oliver places himself in front of her, right in between her thighs. 

Her shaky fingers push the lace waistband past her hips, but Oliver stops her, letting his teeth catch on the fabric to do it himself. He hums at the sight of her pussy, all wet and wanting. 

Felix places himself over her, jerking at his cock as Oliver licks a strip along the length of her folds. 

She yelps, pulling back, oversensitive from Felix’s previous ministrations, but he tightens his hold on her, keeping her in place.

“C’mon, be a good girl. Let him make you feel good.” She turns her head, bashful at how his words affect her, but he takes her chin and forces her eyes to meet his. “You’ll be good for Ollie, for me. Won’t you?”

She licks her lips, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall. 

“Yeah, I’ll be good,” she whispers. 

He smiles, and affectionately pats her cheek, and her thighs widen as she shifts against the mattress, trying to relax. 

With a nod of approval from Felix, Oliver grabs her thighs and pulls her onto his face. His tongue laps at her, circling her clit and teasing at her entrance. 

As she parts her lips, moaning at the heat that grows in the pit of her stomach, Felix places his thumb against her tongue, keeping her jaw open. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his cock into her wanting mouth. She sputters around him as the length of his shaft fills her mouth. 

“Fuck.” He groans. “Taking me so well, baby.” 

Felix fucks himself into her mouth, letting his tip hit the back of her throat. She hollows her cheeks before sucking, letting her lips wrap tight around his shaft, saliva dripping past her lips with every drag of his cock. 

Oliver wraps lips around her clit and slips two fingers into her dripping entrance. His fingers curl and she cries out. 

“Do that again,” Felix demands. “She likes it.”

He angles his fingers, letting the pads of his fingers press against her G-spot. At the sight of her legs shaking, he curls his fingers, practically forcing her hips to jerk against his face. 

She feels her body tense, falling closer and closer to the edge, as Oliver teases her, over and over again. Her arousal, in combination with his saliva, is spread across his lips. 

It’s messy, but none of them care. Both she and Felix love the sight of his flushed cheeks, eyes half-lidded in pleasure from the way her cunt tastes. 

“Don’t let her cum yet” he breathily orders “Have her suck you off first.” 

Felix manhandles her onto her knees and crawls onto the mattress, he taps his cock against cunt, dripping with a mixture of both her arousal and Oliver’s saliva. She looks up at Oliver, keeping her mouth open and drooling, and sticks out her tongue, an open invitation for him to start fucking her face. 

“So well behaved,” Oliver whispers, tapping his hard, flushed cock on her tongue, pre-cum dripping down into her throat. “You’re Felix’s good girl, aren’t you?”

Before she can respond, Oliver shoves his cock past her lips and Felix pushes himself inside her, forcing all of him into her cunt. She yelps around Oliver’s cock, the vibrations from the back of her throat making him shudder. 

The sound of skin slapping against one another fills the room as Felix fucks into her, letting his hips slam against hers. 

The reflection in the mirror across from them is obscene. Her chin is covered in her own drool, smeared across her cheeks and chin, dripping onto the expensive sheets. Felix has his head thrown back in pleasure, hands on her hips with a bruising hold, sweat gleaming on his skin, soaking through the front of his thin tank top. 

Oliver takes Felix’s face and plasters his lips against his. He’s taken by surprise, but he grabs the back of Oliver’s neck and pulls him in closer, forcing Oliver’s hips to push his cock deeper into her mouth. She grabs at the back of Oliver’s thigh, digging her nails into his skin. He hisses at the sting and bites down on Felix’s lower lip, a metallic taste blooming on his tongue. 

They pull away from each other, and blood trickles down Felix’s chin. 

Oliver stares at Felix, about to apologize, but Felix grins. “I could taste her on you, you know? Doesn’t she taste good?” 

All he can do is nod in agreement, cock twitching in her mouth. 

Oliver nods and leans forward, licking up the blood pooling on Felix’s lips. The pair lock their lips together. Wet sounds of their kisses and Felix’s cock being sucked into her pussy reverberate throughout the room, accompanied by her gagging and choking. 

She whines, drawing both of their attention back to her.

“Aww, my baby needs some attention?” At the sound of her whimpering in confirmation, Felix chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ll give you some attention then.” 

Felix reaches forward, pressing his thumb into Oliver’s open mouth, biting his lip at the sight of him swirling his tongue around the digit. With a loud pop, Felix removed his thumb from Oliver’s mouth. 

Wet with Oliver’s saliva, Felix’s thumb circles her other hole, slowly teasing it open. She whines, feeling a foreign stretch as his thumb pushes past the muscle. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He groans. “Don’t know why I haven’t fucked your tight little ass yet. Maybe I should tomorrow, I know your pussy’s going to be sore.” 

Her holes clench around Felix, the feeling of fullness, overtaking her body. She shudders, legs about to give out underneath her, as he forcefully drives his cock into her and teases at her hole, letting his thumb push against the rim, stretching it open. 

“Oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?” Oliver grins, messily grabbing at the length of her hair, forcing her to look at him. “You like it dirty? Like getting all of your holes filled?” 

She blinks away the dark streaks of mascara that run down her face, trying her best to nod. He lets his cock slip free of her lips and gives her cheek a pinch.

“Come on, use your words.” 

“Yes,” She gasps, back arching, pushing herself into Felix. “I like it.” 

He presses her front into the mattress, forcing her back to arch deeper into Felix. His fingers wrap around his hard, leaking cock, letting her spit lubricate his hand as he tugs, slowly bringing himself closer and closer to his own release. 

She tightens around Felix, whining as she feels an oncoming orgasm about to wash over her. 

Her glassy eyes look up at Oliver’s and he coos, thumbing at her cheek. 

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, Ollie, I- ah!” 

Felix lets his thumb hook inside of her clenching muscle, pulling her into him. 

His cock buries deep inside of her, forcing itself against her cervix. She screams, and Oliver is thankful for the loud music playing throughout the house. Her arousal gushes, spraying against both her, and Felix’s thighs. 

“Fuck, baby, making a mess over here.” Felix groans. His head falls back, panting, his grip on her tightening. 

His hips still, with tense thighs and stifled moans, he cums, coating her insides. Carefully, he slips himself out, using his fingers to spread her pussy open, watching with pride as his cum and her arousal drip out of her clenching, gaping cunt. 

Oliver pushes his cock back into her mouth, releasing down her throat. Her eyes tear up at the sudden intrusion. She’s overwhelmed and over-sensitive, but she swallows around him, obedient as always. 

The trio collapses on the mattress, chests rising and falling in tandem. Felix wraps a strong arm around her and pulls her in close, letting her temple rest on his chest. Oliver gently grazes her shoulders with his fingers, calming her down and letting her shaky and twitchy body slowly fall still. 

The lights of the party filter through the large windows, illuminating their sweat-slicked bodies. They shimmer, her body glitter having rubbed onto each other.

Distanced from the commotion happening outside of his room, it was just the three of them, sprawled across Felix’s bed. It was the three of them. Felix, their shining Adonis, and her and Oliver. Felix’s favorite toys.

[ghostgirl101]

Oliver Quick Being Obsessed With You Would Include...

A/N: Watched this recently and got too many ideas because it's what I do 😀 if you've got any requests for the Saltburn crew then drop them in my inbox and I'll get round to them. Have fun reading- just know that there are obviously spoilers for the Saltburn movie here, so if you haven't watched it, zip to the cinema and come back 😎 or don't.

☓• It's hard to know where to start with Oliver... all I can say is that once you're in his sights, you're never getting out of them. Big never. Even if he has to wait years to get what he wants, he'll wait, and he will get it. And of course, the it we're talking about here is lucky you. So lucky you 🙃

☓• Say goodbye to your close friends and possibly your family if they're taking up too much of your time or happen to see through his harmless, quiet, normal act to something a lot darker and obsessive tainting his pure blue eyes every time they latch onto you. No one's managed to get in his way yet, and it stays that way.

☓• The first unknowing encounter with Oliver must have been somewhere around Oxford Uni, where you all go to and study. Maybe in the library, outside talking to friends - doing practically anything and making it look amazing and beautiful and something to be wanted above anything. He watches you a lot, a lot a lot, before you bump into each other, because the meeting has to be perfectly natural and it's his only chance to start things off on the right foot.

☓• Coincidences happen a lot and no one can be called out on them, because nothing seems to be wrong yet. You'll end up spending the majority of your time with him, maybe even without realising, whilst he finds out ways to know more about you and get closer to you. Oliver's not so good when it comes to talking about himself, telling you with one of his awkward but earnest half-smiles that he's not half as interesting, and so the conversation ends up steering back to you. From family life to friends, growing up, hobbies, favourite colour, tell him anything and everything. Because he won't forget a single thing.

☓• He's easy with where you want to go to hang out too, so long as he's there. You could just be talking with your friends in the nearby pub or at a party where the invite was extended to him as he's with you, or studying together at the library. Ignore the weird looks from Michael.

☓• But what Oliver prefers above all that is just being together and alone, maybe in your dorm room, or just out somewhere at a park or at the bridge, sitting and talking, opening yourself up more and more to him. This boy is an incredible listener. If your voice trails off when you become self-conscious of how much you're rambling, all you'll get in response is Oliver blinking out of his trance and giving you a calm smile and a shrug. "No, it's fine, I don't mind. Carry on."

☓• Number one supporter, naturally. Oliver tries to be the best friend and more, so hard, with you. He'll be anything you want and need him to be without you even having to mention it. Whatever club or team you're on, he'll give you a little wave and small grin from the sidelines... take a few pictures when you're not looking. For safekeeping.

☓• It can get more than a little frustrating for him when you're distracted by your other 'friends' at Oxford, even if it's something as small as looking over essay answers and revision notes with Farleigh. There's always a back-and-forth thing happening between those two, and so when Farleigh starts becoming friendly with you and outrightly mocking with Oliver, to you, all that will happen is Oliver giving him an unblinking, blank look that looks a touch too cold and repressive, before he ignores him. And that's all you'll ever know about it.

☓• If you happen to stick up for Oliver when someone brings up how different and odd he is, a bit awkward to talk to and a cheapskate or whatever, he'll never get over it. You stuck up for him. That just proves that he was right about you, from the second his dark gaze latched onto your unknowing self just a few weeks ago. He was right. You're... perfect.

☓• There's so much good about Oliver, that if you ever hear anything different, it's hard to actually believe it. It's just Farleigh causing trouble, or gossip that has gotten out of hand again, not actual hints of something deeper bubbling beneath the surface. Oliver would never watch you outside your dorm room at night, what are they on about? And when Oliver hears of them too, or gets the worries out of you when he instantly notices that something's up, he'll act as effortlessly, convincingly confused as you are. If there's the slightest bit of proof in the accusation, he'll cover it up with a flawless explanation that swerves away from him and onto someone else within a second, while still seeming without grudges towards anyone. "You shouldn't listen to them, they're just trying to get in your head. Or maybe they want you for themself or something. I mean, I can understand that. Completely."

☓• You will eventually notice just how clingy Oliver can get when he seems to be everywhere around you, and you might be looking for a moment to yourself. If you gently bring it up, he'll reluctantly go on the promise that you'll text him back, which gives him time to change tactics. He will go as far as saying someone in his family died, or as small as admitting that the isolation from everyone who is so different to him in this place makes him feel a bit broken up. Maybe he should leave? And you, being you, encourage him to stay on and hang out with you and your friends, and boom, his back in.

☓• It's so easy for Oliver to subtly manipulate his surroundings and its people. Everyone, except for you. With you, the manipulation comes in seemingly natural events, nothing too forward. Because what he likes the most is you coming to him with whatever, problems, thoughts, feelings. Then he's done his job, and everything else that will build up a beautiful, beautiful relationship, will slip into place for him.

☓• Again, everything has to be perfect, and it will be. Maybe your first kiss with him is on your birthday, or out somewhere nice as a treat with some other rich friends. Or it's just you two having a movie marathon or pulling an all-nighter. Every time, he'll inch closer with little sweet, honest lines spoken in a calm, low tone, his eyes locked with yours and scarcely blinking. "Do you know how loveable you are?" "I think that your smile is something to live for." "I never want to be without you."

☓• Oliver will edge closer and closer, holding hands, brushing your hair back from your face when you're reading with a tender touch, meeting your eye and not letting go until you smile in bashful amusement and look away. He'll meet you outside all your classes and bring you your favourite drinks and study notes that he got from his work, so that you never fail an exam. Oliver's a lifesaver, one of your closest friends, someone who's always there for you to be whatever you need whenever you need. A great comforter, supporter, study buddy, moral support, you name it. He created and adapted himself to be boyfriend material especially for you, and so it happens, and he's won, like he knew he did the second he saw you. Now he can be as clingy and overly affectionate and outwardly obsessive as he wants, all day, all night, tirelessly. And don't think he won't.

☓• Straight-up, he's a starer. And I mean starer when you think you're alone in your room, starer when you were with a fling or someone you might have been interested in before... before Oliver worked his magic behind the scenes. Now it's a lot easier to, when you're in a relationship, because he can pass off his staring as something romantic, which it kind of is, without the dangerous obsessiveness lacing it. You'll look up from your phone or wake up in the night to see Oliver's eyes on you in wonder and something else you can't quite place, before you smile and ask him what it is. It's always the same answer with the same soft, adoring smirk that manages to make your cheeks flush with colour and smile back. It's not 'nothing.' It's always, just, "You."

☓• Once he's got things how he wanted them, if anything tries to ruin it, they will have literal hell to pay. He did not come this far for nothing. It's an agonising process of waiting and being patient so he wouldn't scare you off, getting gradually and naturally closer to this point. So whether it's Farleigh telling his tales or playing off his tricks, or someone else pointing out the unobvious obvious, good luck to them, because one of his special coincidences will fall right onto their heads.

☓• And if, by a twisted turn of events, you walk into one of Oliver's schemes, and see flecks of his true, darker self and violent, delusional side unearthed from his usually calm and easy way, he'll beg you with racking tears and heaving breaths and literal vomit to stay. He'll do anything, just as he has been doing anything, for you. What he's saying and doing is suddenly terrifying, and whether or not you want to accept him as freely is your choice, but if not, Oliver won't go away. He'll wait some more if you manage to escape his grasp this time. See you in a few years as an adult, maybe. When you're vulnerable in different ways and water's gone under the bridge. He'll slip right back into your life like he was always meant to be there, with his earnest, devoting praise and comfort and support, and that's Oliver Quick's life come back together yet again, with you lost at its centre. Trapped.

[candied-heartss]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐄𝐑

(𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑥 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑛)

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳, 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲... 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 (18+), 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬, 𝑭!𝑺𝑼𝑩, 𝑴!𝑫𝑶𝑴, 𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑿, 𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑿 (𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮), 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑼𝑵𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑿 (𝑺𝑨𝑭𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑿 𝑰𝑺 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑿, 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑷𝑷𝑳!), 𝑺𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑷𝑼𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑻 𝑹𝑼𝑩𝑩𝑰𝑵𝑮, 𝑷𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑬, 𝑫𝑬𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵, 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑼𝑺𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 "𝑺𝑰𝑹", 𝑫𝑼𝑩𝑪𝑶𝑵???

ᴡᴏʀᴅs: 2,253

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The two of you snapped out of it at the deep, accusatory voice of Felix coming from the doorway. At the sound of his voice, Oliver took hold of your hair and pulled your lips away from his cock, making you look up at the man at the doorway, your spit coating your lips.

"Sir, I... I am so, so sorry... Sir Oliver said that he needed my assistance." you told him quietly, looking down with a shameful expression painting over your features. Oliver just sat there, not moving an inch, and the slightest bit of pride showed on his face.

Felix looked at the two of you, clearly not amused at this sight, "Oh, and this "assistance" just happens to involve your mouth on his cock? You're a maid, not some classless whore."

The more that he spoke, the more ashamed you felt, and the more ashamed you felt, admittedly, the more aroused you were.

"Felix, why do you seem so angry? Aren't you glad I found a way to put your sweet, little maid to good use? She's just such a good helper, aren't you, darling?" Oliver finally interjected, still holding onto your hair and stroking your cheek.

You nodded, still too embarrassed and ashamed to say a word. You could practically feel Felix's eyes burning into you as his gaze flicked back and forth between you and Oliver. Oliver still looked at him proudly, clearly not caring about how he was presenting himself in front of the other young man.

"And you," Felix then looked over at him, shaking his head, "I always knew you were some sort of perverted creep, but to have one of the maids come and suck you off while I'm just down the hall is sickening..."

Once again, you felt wretched for even doing this in the first place. All you were trying to do was do your job well, but never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that you would be here, on your knees while a man used your mouth as his own personal fleshlight.

"Please," you pleaded with Felix, "Please, Sir Felix, please don't terminate my employment here... I'll do anything, I swear on the Lord's name."

At this, the other young man's eyebrow seemed to quirk upwards in a mixture of both curiosity and amusement. Oh, god. This is the part where he fires you on the spot. Just as you began to brace yourself for whatever you were going to hear from his mouth next, you became shocked at what you finally did hear from him.

"Then get the hell over here and suck my cock, too. I mean, since you want to be a greedy slut, you might as well take all that you can get, yeah?" he told you, beckoning you over with a singular finger.

The mere thought of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you immediately got onto your hands and knees before crawling over to Felix. He watched you intently, studying every inch of your body, every curve, every hair, every freckle, every mole... The way he looked at you intimidated you a little bit but at the same time, it left you feeling aroused and secretly quite desperate.

"Well, go on now, love. Take these trousers off... I won't bite, yet." Felix told you, tilting your gaze up so that he could properly make eye contact with you.

With a hand now lacing through your hair, he wasted no time in practically shoving his cock so far down your throat that you nearly choked. As you gagged while your throat stretched to accommodate the size, you could hear the sound of him groaning from the pleasure that he was receiving from you.

While you sucked on Felix's cock leisurely, you heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind you before feeling a pair of hands on you. It was Oliver, who had finally decided to join in and make his presence known to the both of you.

"Look at him," you heard his voice in your ear, soft enough for you to hear, but firm enough for you to understand the meaning of it, "Look up at him while you suck him nice and well, sweet girl. You can be good, can't you?"

You nodded before inhaling deeply and taking him in down your throat as far as you could before you coughed and sputtered again, your eyes now flickering up to meet his, which in turn made his grip tighter on your hair and let out another grunt of ecstasy. As your mouth kept at work, you moved your hands up to join your mouth, moving up and down on his cock rhythmically, the slick sound of his precum and your saliva that coated the length of his cock now making itself prevalent in the room.

"Fuck... Who knew a maid's mouth could feel wetter than any cunt I've ever had?" Felix pondered aloud as he watched you continue with your duties. With another groan, he pulled you off of the floor, only to lead you to the bed, pushing you down so that your upper body lay against the freshly made mattress, bent over the length of the bed.

"Sir F-Felix, I-I-" you tried to speak, only for him to reach over from behind you and push his fingers past your lips and into your mouth, gagging you and letting the saliva run down from your mouth to his hand, eventually his wrist, while your mouth made a choked sound from the considerable fill his appendages made down your throat.

"I'm going to fuck you, now, and if you do not shut the fuck up, I'll make sure to keep my fingers down your throat until you pass out from the oxygen loss." Felix threatened you, and while, yes, it was definitely meant to be in a menacing manner, it just further aided your arousal.

You then squeaked when you felt his hand traveling up the back of your thigh before reaching for your skirt, flipping it up, and revealing your underwear, much to your chagrin. You heard the two young men chuckle as they caught a glimpse of the fabric of your panties.

"Look at that, her panties have little flowers on them. How cute." Felix tells Oliver before pulling his now wet fingers out of your mouth and pulling the underwear down with one swift motion. You then shivered at the feeling of cool air now washing over your body and settling over the wetness of your cunt.

Without another word to you or Oliver, you felt the thick, heavy tip of his cock slide over your asscheek before finally brushing over your cunt, sliding through the slickness of your folds, making you shiver and him groan once again.

"Fuck... I can already tell you'll be so warm wrapped around me... Let's see if you are as tight as you are warm." He then finally pushes his way inside of you, making you gasp from the sheer size of his cock, moaning as you felt every inch, every minuscule detail of his cock as he slowly slid into you, making the two of you fit together like the pieces to a puzzle.

"S-Sir Felix, I-I- oh... You... You're so deep..." You whined softly, pressing your cheek into the mattress below you.

After a while, you had finally managed to adjust to the size of his cock and this opened up the doorway for Felix to begin thrusting, his hips meeting your ass with each movement. As he fucked you, you could still feel Oliver's eyes studying the both of you, and the mere thought of him being present in the room with you, watching as Felix fucked you with ease, made you wetter than any fantasy you had ever had.

"God, Ollie... I wish you could feel her. She's like... a fuckdoll, but real. Her cunt is so, so fucking tight." he laughed, now thrusting in harder, his hips now colliding with the plump, supple flesh of your ass while he reached up, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you closer, the sensation restricting your breathing ever-so-slightly. The now-sudden change of pace and rhythm made you practically shriek from the pure, raw pleasure you were subjected to.

And then, he stopped.

Just as you were about to whine at the loss of movement on his end, you felt his large hands grip you by the hips before pulling you off of the bed and positioning you onto your knees, kneeling on the floor in front of Oliver again.

"Now, you're going to be a good maid and clean. Clean him up, alright? Suck him dry." Felix tells you, but the tone of voice he uses with you makes you realize that it is more of an order than a request. You looked up at Oliver nervously before wrapping your hands around the base of his cock.

"Yes, sir..." Was all you could manage to reply before you leaned in and began to press kisses against the flaccid head of his cock before placing your hand out in front of it, spitting into your palm, and beginning to massage the length of his cock with both your hands, the sounds of his low groans and the wetness echoing throughout the room.

"Did you listen to anything that I just said? I didn't say give him a handjob. Suck. Him. Dry." he snapped, pushing your face towards Oliver's cock. With a heavy breath, you opened your mouth before taking his cock into your mouth and back down your throat, this time controlling your breathing so you wouldn't choke as much as the last time.

Oliver groaned when he felt you move your tongue against the length of his cock, the tip of your tongue tracing every ridge and vein that you could find. You then felt his hand on your hair, burying into your scalp and pushing you down further onto his cock and making you gag once more. You looked up at him to find that he was already looking down at you, and you could've sworn that he had the slightest hint of a grin on his face.

"Fuck, Felix... Christ, I might need to keep this maid of yours all to myself. She's just too sweet and too fucking pretty to let go..." He laughed, his attention now focused back on you as you choked again.

Soon enough, you could tell that he was getting closer to his orgasm, judging by how he began to grasp onto the back of your hair and how his grunts became an octave louder. And, yes, you were correct, as not even a moment later, you felt him tug at your hair once again before you heard him groan and the warm, sticky sensation of his cum going down your throat.

Once you swallowed it, Oliver then pulled away from you, allowing Felix to have a turn with you. You watched the taller boy with intrigue and arousal as you watched him wrap his hand around the thick base of his cock, jerking himself off and gasping softly as he looked back into your eyes.

"Oh, fucking hell... Keep looking at me like that, sweet girl. Yeah, just like that." He groaned finally before he threw his head back, his moans now echoing through the room as he finally reached his climax, his eyes rolling back as his cum now painted your face.

Once the two of them had become spent, you were about to get up and leave before you saw Oliver go over and sit on the bed, beckoning you over with a singular finger. You then slowly came over to him, only for him to pull you close and have you sit on his lap, spreading your legs wide and far enough for him to reach down and begin massaging your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a whine.

"Oh! Oh, my god!" you practically sobbed as he picked up the pace before you heard him chuckle from behind you.

"I'm Oliver, not God, darling. But, I appreciate the sentiment." he teased you, putting more pressure behind your fingers and rubbing harder. You gasped, your thighs beginning to quaver as you reached closer and closer to your climax.

You then sighed softly as he leaned into you, whispering in your ear, "Can you do me a favor, love? Look up at Felix for me, please. Let him see that beautiful face of yours when I make you come."

You nodded, your eyes now shifting upwards to meet Felix's gaze, whimpering quietly as you felt his penetrating stare, gasping as you got closer and closer.

"It's okay, my darling. Be a really good girl and come for the both of us."

With those words and a bit more pressure being applied to your aching clit, you practically burst into tears from the pleasure as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, your back arching up and off his chest.

"Good... Good girl. Such a good little helper, aren't you?" He whispered, kissing your forehead, making you nod in your dazed state. Felix then leaned down and kissed you, too.

"We're so proud of you, love. You did great. What a sweet little maid you are." He tells you, stroking his fingers along your forehead almost lovingly.

[thekinslayed]

Wandering Eyes

summary | Aemond and his girl visit Saltburn, where a pair of curious eyes watch fascinatingly from the sides. (requested)

pairing | saltburn au: modern!aemond targaryen x girlfriend!reader (+ voyeur!oliver quick, mentions of modern!aegon targaryen x venetia catton)

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! blowjob, voyeurism, oliver quick is a warning alone

wordcount | 2.5k

note | u guys asked for more saltburn aem, and i shall provide! rly happy with how this one came out hehe thank you for the love on the previous parts, which you can find here if you are interested! (1, 2) <3 if you haven't read the first two, no worries! this can still be a standalone fic :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! <3

(divider by @starzyyy1)

The sweat beaded on Aemond’s warm, reddening flesh under the sweltering sun. They lounged on lawn chairs overlooking the expanse of land the Catton manor sat upon, clad in only their shorts and sunglasses, too weary from the heat to be wearing any more clothing. There was a slight throb deep within his temples. Perhaps it was from the heat, or the warm liquor they kept passing around, or the puffs of cigarette smoke that stayed like a cloud above their heads from the lack of wind, he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, however, was that the idiotic banter coming from Felix and Aegon wasn’t of any help in alleviating his headache. They were arguing about some dumb blonde who managed to play them both like a fiddle at the same time, which wasn’t the first time, laying claim on who had her first, who fucked her better. God, why don’t they just pull out a ruler and measure their dicks while they’re at it? Aemond let out an annoyed sigh, turning his eye to something more worth his attention, you. 

You were laid on your stomach on the grass with Venetia, passing a bottle of rosé between the two of you. Both girls were only clad in their bikinis, skin glistening with tanning oil. You stood out like a blooming tulip in the middle of the wide span of grass at Saltburn, the sight of your exposed flesh beckoning Aemond’s eye hypnotically. You turned to lay on your back, your hair spilling around you like a nymph on the forest floor. There was a warm tinge in Aemond’s belly, one not from the liquor, nor the heat.

This was your second summer together, and like the previous year, you paid visits to your respective homes. This time, however, Aemond took you with him and Aegon on a little visit to Saltburn at the Catton’s invitation. The younger Targaryen always thought the manor was a little too empty for his liking, echoing with the whispers of secrets the walls harbored. Albeit, Dragonstone was much bigger and more grand, the boisterous presence of his much larger family left no room for hidden corners filled with the unknown. The Catton was a much smaller family, quite an odd bunch, and perhaps even more fucked in the head than the Targaryens. 

Aemond’s attention returned to the group when Felix passed him the bottle of vodka, taking a small swig of the clear liquid. His gaze passed the sight of Oliver Quick, who was also staring at the two girls laid out on the grass. It was safe to say Aemond didn’t like him, rather suspicious of the mousy little twat. The silver-headed man was wary of the calculating look Oliver always seemed to have, could practically see the gears turning in his head as if he was planning his next step carefully. It was too obvious, maybe not to an idiot like Felix, but it was to Aemond, and from what Michael told him about their short-lived ‘friendship’, Oliver had a desire to get a leg up in Oxford society, and blend in with the elites. It was pathetic, but the Targaryen could care less if he did so, as long as he kept his grubby hands out of Aemond’s business, and he stopped fucking staring at his girl. 

“How, uh, how’s Helaena?” Felix asked, tearing Aemond’s burning stare away from Oliver. Both Targaryens snickered at the question, making Felix shift insecurely in his seat.

“Not single, if that’s what you’re fucking asking,” Aegon responded, cackling when their childhood companion visibly deflated at his words. A smirk lifted the corners of Aemond’s thin lips, huffing a dark chuckle under his breath before taking a puff of his cigarette. 

“She’s in Hawaii with Cregan,” the younger Targaryen informed, smoke billowing out his lips and nostrils as he exhaled. Felix’s jaw dropped in disbelief, his head quickly turning to the silverheads on either side of him to find any sign that they were playing him.

“Wha– Stark?” Both brothers only nodded, sharing an amused look when Felix groaned, slamming his head backward into the cushion in defeat. 

“Aw, come on, pretty boy. Y’know she was never into you like that! Either way, you won’t ever get to try anything on Hel, not unless you want Aemond to knock out some of your teeth again,” the older Targaryen remarked, flashing Felix a bright grin. A pair of blue eyes quickly shifted between the three men, the newcomer listening intently into the conversation he found no part in. Aemond caught the way Oliver stared at a pouting Felix with a strange glint in his eye. Perhaps it was jealousy, something akin to the same look Aemond had when his pretty girl first started bringing Gavey around. 

As Aegon continued to poke fun at the tall man, Aemond tuned out the conversation when you and Venetia approached the group. Your skin glimmered with a mix of sweat and oil, and as you approached where he sat, he could feel the heat emanating from your warm flesh. You cupped his jaw, before taking the cigarette dangling from his lips into your fingertips and bringing it to your lips. Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow at you, silently asking where you were off to, seeing as you made no move to settle down on his lap when he beckoned you to. 

“Bathroom,” was all you said before walking away. Like a moth to a flame, Aemond quickly followed suit, his cigarette haphazardly stubbed into the ashtray. His good eye trained on the sight of your plump ass as you walked through the halls of the vast mansion, entranced by the inviting sight.

“That guy’s fuckin’ whipped,” Felix commented once Aemond had disappeared after your tail. He took another swig of liquor, before passing it to Aegon, who let out a grunt in agreement.

“You know Aemond, he’s always been too serious… already asked for our grandmother’s ring and everything,” Aegon disclosed, before offering the half-empty bottle of vodka to Venetia. Their eyes stayed on each other like magnets as her lips covered the bottle’s opening, taking a swig of the warm liquor. A droplet spilled over the side of her glossy lips, and a glitter polish-painted thumb wiped off the liquid, before shooting Aegon a seductive smirk.

“No shit?” Felix asked, surprised. A pair of curious eyes watched Venetia and Aegon, Oliver in disbelief at the blatant display in front of her brother. It seemed that Felix didn’t even mind the way they were a second away from devouring each other right then and there, or he just simply was turning a blind eye. 

Oliver quickly learned that the Targaryens had the power to turn the exuberant, bright Felix Catton small. They held an air of authority that would make the tide split for their path, an innate confidence that was as regal as their silver hair and pale flesh. It was a level of eliteness one could not possibly climb to, untouchable to a common man like him. He was in awe, yet intimated, and soon he found himself quietly padding through Saltburn’s guest wing. It took him little effort to find the rooms you were occupying, given away by a muffled groan heard in the quiet, deserted halls. Oliver crouched outside your door, peering into the keyhole. It reminded him of one of his first nights here when he had peeked into Felix’s bathroom. The memory made his skin tingle, even more so at the sight of you kneeling before Aemond’s seated form. Your back was facing the door, and your sheened skin glowed under the light that streamed through the old windows. You were topless, your bikini top strewn carelessly somewhere in the room, while Aemond’s shorts were dropped to his ankles. His long, silver mane cascaded over the edge of the lounge chair with his tilted back, soft grunts of pleasure escaping his lips. His large palm rested on the back of your head as it bobbed up and down at a languid pace. Oliver couldn’t see much, but it was clear what you were up to, given away by the sound of your mouth taking Aemond’s cock. A string of curses left the Targaryen’s lips in low mutters, followed by words of praise.

“Good girl,” Oliver heard him say, to which you responded with a moan. Your pace was steady and unrushed, taking your sweet time. You were clearly well aware of what pleased the silver-haired man before you, evident in the way you fondled his balls in one hand, while the other stroked the base of his cock. 

Oliver gulped, palming his own hardening length in his shorts at the erotic sight. From his point of view, it seemed that you were enjoying this just as much as Aemond was, with the way you freely moaned around his length. You pulled your mouth off your boyfriend’s cock with a pop, replacing its warmth with steady strokes of your hand. Your attention was shifted to his stones, which you sucked on eagerly. Aemond grunted loudly, his voice bouncing against the walls of the spacious room.

“Feel good?” you said, barely audible to Oliver’s ear with your mouth still buried in Aemond’s sacks. His cock jumped in his palm at your sweet voice, prompting him to slip his hand into his shorts to stroke it instead. 

“So good, baby, so fucking perfect,” Aemond groaned. Oliver’s eyes trailed from his muscular chest, littered with light hair, down to his abdomen, which glistened with sweat from the summer heat. He watched as his brows furrowed in pleasure, while his jaw remained slack, his moans falling freely from his lips. His hand picked up its pace while he studied Aemond’s features, from his sculptured jaw, and his aquiline nose. Oliver watched, and he stroked his cock.

Aemond was close, evident in the way his hips subtly thrust into your hand. The hand that was resting on the back of your head gathered all your hair into a ponytail, which urged you to return your lips to his length. You let him set the pace, let him push your head up and down his cock to his liking. Your hands clutched his firm thighs to steady yourself, breathing deep through your nose. You hollowed out your cheeks and pressed your tongue to the underside of his cock to spur Aemond further to his release. His grip on your hair tightened painfully, much to your liking, his pace growing rhythmless and desperate, which Oliver mimicked with his hand. The unknown voyeur outside your room bit his lip to suppress his moans, his own release drawing near. 

Oliver watched Aemond use your mouth to his liking, like nothing but a whore on her knees. He watched you allow him to do so, finding your own pleasure with the way one of your hands crept into your bottoms. After one harsh thrust into your mouth, then another, Aemond pulled your mouth off his cock. He stroked his length furiously, while you presented your bare tits to him. Oliver couldn’t see the spurts of cum that painted your chest, but it was seeing Aemond’s face contort in pleasure that made him spill into his hand. He is reminded of watching Felix in that tub many nights ago, and how he enjoyed slurping up the remnants of his seed. It was depraved, horrific, yet the most cathartic thing he had ever done. He imagined himself doing the same with Aemond’s cum, perhaps even licking it off your plump tits. 

The familiar sound of Venetia’s giggles pulled Oliver from his thoughts, which was followed by a deep chuckle from down the hall. His feet pulled him away from Aemond’s door, following where he heard another laugh before a door slammed shut from around the corner. In his post-orgasmic daze, Oliver’s elbow collided with a stone ornament, one of the hundreds displayed in the Catton’s home, falling on the carpet with a loud thud. He scrambled to pick up the figurine and return it to its place, silently praying no one heard him. His prayers were unanswered when he heard a door behind him open, making him freeze in his place. 

“Oliver,” Aemond said, his smooth voice booming through the empty hall. Oliver turned to face the younger Targaryen, who had one hand leaning above the doorframe. The icy blue of his good eye was sharp as he stared, making the smaller man’s skin prickle under the weight of his gaze. “Are you looking for something?” Oliver’s face burned with the humiliation of being caught, his mouth turning dry as he approached the silver-haired man. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, before letting out an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, no, mate, I-I think I just got lost again.”

Aemond only hummed in response, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest. He stared down at Oliver through his eyelashes, making the man before him fight the urge to cower in fear. Behind Aemond, your voice echoed though Oliver didn’t dare to peek over his shoulder. You seemed farther away, your soft tone covered by the sound of running water. Leaning on the door frame, Aemond turned his head to you.

“Get the bath started, baby, I’ll be right there, yeah?” he called out to you. With a response from you that Oliver couldn’t catch, Aemond turned back to Oliver. “Still getting lost after three weeks of being here?”

Oliver gulped, nodding his head pathetically. He scrambled for a response, muttering something about not being good with directions, to which Aemond only responded with another hum. His pulse thrummed thunderously in his ears, and the longer the Targaryen stared at him with his scrutinizing gaze he felt himself being peeled layer by layer. After a couple of beats of silence, Aemond spoke.

“You’re by Felix’s room, aren’t you? That’s on the other wing of the house. Should’ve taken a left from the staircase.”

The relief washed over Oliver like a warm breeze. He stuttered some sort of thanks, before turning away from Aemond. As he walked away, he didn’t hear the sound of a door closing, which meant Aemond was still watching him. All of a sudden, his walk felt funny, the front of his shorts uncomfortably damp, only aggravated with every step he took. When he finally heard the door close shut, his shoulders visibly relaxed. That was close, too close. Aemond was much too perceptive, much smarter than all of the Cattons combined. Oliver couldn’t afford to be caught by him, so he thought it best to keep his motives far from the Targaryens as much as possible. He made his way through the halls with his tail stuck in between his legs, only stopping when he heard Venetia’s voice again. Like deja vu, he peeked through another keyhole again, spotting Felix’s sister lost in a bundle of sheets, a head of short silver-hair buried in between her thighs.

[canidaefello]

Dating Oliver Quick headcanons 💕🥰

He leaves you to chase a man