#sincerelyverena

[sincerelyverena]

Hello, I love your Saltburn Felix fics!!! 🌹

I’ve got a request for Felix x reader if you feel inspired by the idea. The reader is a friend of Venetia’s who comes to stay with them, develops a crush on Felix, & to pass the summer they all sometimes pull pranks on each other. One night Farleigh locks the reader out of her room & Venetia isn’t opening hers so she makes her way to Felix’s who happily let’s her in but also gives her more than just a warm bed for the night

*wink wink*

absolutely adored writing this, y'all are so creative. love you all!

⟡⁺ LOCKED OUT OF HEAVEN

. . . FELIX CATTON X FEM!READER ‘cause your sex takes me to paradise’

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒your stay at saltburn has been plagued with relentless pranks to pass the time, one in which drives you straight to felix's doorstep.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐reader is shy asf ﹐praise kink ﹐the household driving each other insane ﹐i missed writing everybody's dynamic

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @no-baths-for-stan﹐@deadshowsagency

It won’t be that bad, Venetia said. The boys won’t bother you. You had believed her soon enough, deciding it wouldn’t be that bad to stay with her and her family in their estate during the summer.

That is until a prank war erupted.

“Farleigh, I’m going to fuckin’ murder you.” Venetia’s holler rang out throughout the halls of Saltburn that evening. Her bare feet stomped through the floors, leaving wet prints in her wake as she burst into her perpetrator's room.

You hovered behind her. Eyes rounded and watering with effort, you had coughed back a laugh at the sight of her typically platinum strands dyed a faded, radioactive green. You witnessed before your eyes that the others lacked that same composure. Farleigh burst out in exclamation, whilst Felix and Oliver — whom Venetia titles behind his back “Felix’s new toy” — doubled over, cackling at the sight.

Thankfully, the dye was temporary, or blood would’ve been shed in Saltburn that night. Instead, in its wake, it had broken out into endless days of pranks. How else was one supposed to pass one’s time in the castle of the house you were residing in?

In that time, you had grown acquainted with the Catton family (and Oliver). At first, you were somewhat hesitant, preferring to stick by Venetia. But with the introduction of the stunts pulled on one another, you had no choice but to step out of your comfort zone. Especially when Venetia hung up your lingerie outside of your window for all of Saltburn to see, moving the others to do the same with their own scandalous garments. 

Little did you know, it came in handy that night. More handy than you could ever imagine.

It was late at night. You had accompanied the others and taken a night swim, with a swig of alcohol or two. You were more than ready for bed. Towel tucked around your frame, you shuffled down the dimmed corridor towards the room you were staying in for the summer. Your hair was scarcely blow-dried. You blew out a puff of hair in front of your tired eyes as you tried the door handle, only to find it was locked.

You wiggled the handle once, twice, then three times only to discover that somebody had locked you out of your room. And then you thought it was too late for pranks.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you cussed under your breath.

You dragged your feet, slightly pissed off at the fact you were unable to head to bed at this time of the hour. You approached Venetia’s room, which was one door down. Palm on the door handle, you tried it, to see it was also locked.

“Venetia,” you called out, voice echoing throughout the hall.

Spying through the crack in the door, it was completely dark in her room. After a few beats of silence, you pressed against the handle again. Concluding that Venetia was knocked out completely, you turn away. 

With nothing more than a towel around your shoulders, billowing at your feet like a ghost, you stalked the quiet halls of Saltburn. A shiver jolted down your spine at the deathly atmosphere. You knew there were a few more spare rooms on the other side of the estate, but you weren’t completely sure where. You aimlessly walked around in the shadows for what seemed to be minutes, maybe even an hour, before you spied illumination at the end of the corridor.

You sped up the pace, feet hitting the floor. Speaking to one of the guys about this was unnecessarily embarrassing, but you truly had no choice.

There was a visible hesitation in your movements as you stood in front of the room at the end of the hall. You raised a single fist to the door. Blowing out a breath through your cheeks before you knocked, the sound alone reverberated throughout the length of the otherwise empty foyer.

There was a shuffle or two from inside the room in question, the doorknob giving a warning rattle before the door itself swung open. Felix took up the majority of the doorway as he stared down at you, a velvet robe messily tied around his towering frame. “Oh, [Y/N]. That’s your name, right?” He wasn’t intending to hide the note of surprise as he recognised you through the shadow of darkness you were practically camouflaged into. “Is everything alright?”

It was at that moment that you realised how utterly ripped Felix was. In the soft glow of his bedroom behind him, the light highlighted the ripple of muscle that the fabric of the robe tightened around. Crescendoing at his chest, which would be delving into the garment at his shoulders. Serving as a tease to your eyes.

Felix raised an eyebrow at your silence, prompting you to respond.

It was an effort to stop yourself from staring further at his man-tits. “Uh. Yeah. Someone locked me out of my room,” you fumbled to explain, pointing an awkward thumb back towards the dark corridor you had stumbled from.

“So you walked all the way here?”

You paused. Yeah, you kind of did. “Venetia wasn’t opening her door.”

Felix hesitated for a second, looking at you with some sort of twisted pity for your situation. Before he proceeded to step aside, revealing the entirety of his room. It was cluttered, in a charming way. A four-poster bed frame in blue, with a handful of clothes tossed over the top. A velvet-trimmed couch, cornered with a coffee table that held a glass of half-drunken scotch. The lamp by Felix’s bed sourced the room’s illumination.

“Well, are you going to come inside?” The hue of his voice dragged you from the wide-eyed examination of your surroundings. Felix had moved from the doorway to the side of his bed, where he sipped the remaining substance in the glass.

You stepped through. “Oh, I was just wondering if I could get my room unlocked.”

Felix looked at you over the drink in his clasp. He laughed. Like, actually laughed. Then his face abruptly fell at the blank look you gave in turn, he rose to his feet. “You’re serious? You think I’m gonna turn you away?”

“Never really said that.”

Your words went unanswered. Felix peered down at you, the sharp hinges of his face illuminated by the lamp behind him. His eyes flickered downwards, further towards your body. You could’ve flushed at the attention, but instead, you felt a brewing heat blossom at your cheeks at the realisation you were in nothing but a towel.

“Why not sleep here tonight?” Felix decided at once, eyes lingering on the fluffy material covering the entirety of your physique. “There’s clothes ova’ in the drawer there.”

You looked down, clutching the fabric to your body. The fact Felix was so willing to wave away your requests was a little annoying, but what else could you do?

“Okay,” you murmured, before turning to shuffle toward the set of cabinets he referred to. Felix was scary to you, yet he was very, very attractive. Which was a scarier combination. 

You pulled out a drawer, before plucking out a shirt and a pair of shorts too big for your liking. Glancing over your bare shoulder, you spied Felix sitting on the farthest side of the bed. Back facing you, there was a cigarette in his mouth now. He was preoccupied enough for you to change without a prevalent worry, leaving you dressed in a shirt that covered your knees and a pair of shorts you had to roll at your hips.

Felix tapped the drug stick in his fingers on a nearby ashtray, raising his head at the sound of the drawer thudding shut. He watched as you folded up the material of the towel between your hands, placing it aside to return the next morning.

”You smoke?” he inquired, nudging the open pack of cigarettes towards you. Felix asked a lot of questions, and the attention was something that made you feel hot in a plethora of ways.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “A little.”

Felix peered at you expectantly, causing you to step forwards to grab one of the cigarettes in the pack. You only smoked with Venetia, but you guessed both of the Catton siblings had a similar indulgence in things that could kill them. 

You watched as Felix snatched a lighter from the coffee table a few feet before them, flicking it open. A flame hissed in the air, illuminating the rough skin of his hands as he pointed the device towards the end of your cigarette. It caught aflame, positioning you to bring the drug stick to your lips.

Inhaling, you felt the familiar, addictive buzz it gave. It caused you to feel a little more relaxed in Felix’s presence, although the intense look in his eyes as he stared at you left you ever so flushed.

”You don’t say much, do you?” Felix observed.

You blew a mouthful of smoke into the air. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little.”

You mustered up the guts to glare at him.

Felix only laughed, cigarette fumes billowing from his nostrils. The sheets underneath the both of you crinkled, he had somehow shuffled an inch closer towards you. Until your knees were practically touching and you felt high off of your nerves alone.

”You know, you don’t look half bad in my things,” he proceeded to compliment you, raking his gaze from your eyes downwards until he lingered upon the curve of your legs.

Before you could string a heap of words together in a half-fumbled response, Felix reached down to grab the bottom of his shirt at your torso. He tugged down the thick fabric until it covered the bulge of your knee.

The movement felt oddly intimate, especially when Felix raised his stare to meet your own.

You lowered your head, suddenly flustered. Your cigarette lay dormant in your hand. “Thanks.”

You felt a rough palm holster onto the line of your jaw, forcing your eyes back upward. The pad of Felix’s thumb absentmindedly raked the suppleness of your lower lip, sending a shockwave of warmth to bolt down your entire body. You froze in place, suddenly unsure of what to exactly do in this situation. But before you were able to make up your mind, Felix leant in.

And he kissed you.

Kissing Felix was like kissing anybody. But a certain power drove behind the sloppiness of his lips and the hunger of his motions. You regained movement, unable to help yourself but to kiss him back. You could taste the distant hues of scotch in his breath, and you were certain he could make out the bitterness of cigarette smoke on yours.

Felix’s hand met the curve of your hip, drawing you in until you discovered yourself perched up on his lap. The robe he wore did little to hide the girth of his cock that pressed against the velvet fabric. Venetia had told you how thick he was, but you had brushed that aside, slightly unsure why your best friend knew how big her brother’s dick was.

You tilted your neck back, inviting Felix to move his mouth from your lips towards the column of your throat. He pulled himself back momentarily to speak. “So, you’re a virgin, yeah?”

A small smile perked at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your palm further against the centre of his chest. You had to admit, you were slightly distracted by the feel of his erection against you. ”You think so? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Felix dipped his head to stifle his laugh. The hand that was propped at the curve of your hip moved to the dip of your ass, squeezing it somewhat.

“Surprised?”

“Yeah, kinda. You seem like the virgin type, excuse me. It’s cute, though. I like it,” Felix continued to ramble onwards like he typically did, looking deep into your eyes. “I like you.”

Then his lips were on yours again, and you had no other thought.

As Felix’s lips moved against your own, you felt the pad of his fingers slip underneath the fabric of your shorts. Teasingly. It was clear what his intentions were, and your stomach fluttered at the thought. Especially as his lips pulled back from your own, moving towards your ear. Warm breath fanning. “I wanna to be able to fuck you, [Y/N]. Could I do that? Could I fuck you senseless?”

You fidgeted with the muscle of his chest, palm pressed against the centre. You glanced up at him, staring at him through your eyelashes. “I’d let you do anything to me, Felix.”

The words you had articulated caused a foreign heat to alight in his eyes. His hands clutched the curve of your hips before he raised you from his lap to the underneath of his Herculean body. Your back pressed against the soft belly of the comforter of Felix’s bed with his length straining along your clothed entrance.

The two of you both fumble simultaneously to loosen your respective garments until Felix’s cock began to enter you. You groaned with effort as you adjusted to his girth. 

“You doin’ alright, darling?” Felix checked in, he was only a few inches in. “Need me to stop?”

You shook your head, almost desperate to soothe the burn of arousal in your abdomen. “I can handle it.”

“Good girl.”

Without another word, Felix pushed the rest of his length inside of you. He had fit you perfectly, filling you to the brim. It took you a few moments to adjust before he began to move. The sound of your wetness squelching around him bounced against the walls. You curved into him, soft gasps escaping you.

Felix felt otherworldly inside of you, the muscle of his dick pressed against your clenched walls. Hitting against your G-Spot, he began to thrust in and out inside of you, stealing a rather strangled moan from the depths of your throat.

Before you could make any other noise, Felix pressed the saucer of his palm against your mouth. Stifling anything that would follow. “Shh, Ollie’s asleep next door. We don’t wanna wake him up now, do we?”

Felix only removed his hand when you nodded, fingers lingering by your lower lip before he continued to pound inside of you. His pace merely quickened by the second. Even Felix was unable to hold back the soft grunts that slipped from him as he gripped onto the vicinity of your hips, moulding himself into you.

No matter how good of a fuck Felix was, it was obvious his cock had a mind of its own. You could feel it twitch inside of you, even as that familiar pressure built at the base of your spine. 

“[Y/N],” Felix grunted under his breath.

And with a couple more thrusts, Felix pulled his length from your wetness with a pop. His girth collapsed upon your abdomen before he came all over your bare stomach. You were quick to reach down to drag your fingers around his cock, helping him to ride out his orgasm.

But Felix wasn’t to forget about you, was he? He was quick to replace his length with his fingers. Which he pumped in and out of you repeatedly. “Is this good for you, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you moaned aloud, suddenly careless of whoever was asleep next door. A part of you hoped you would be loud enough to wake up Venetia who slept on the other side of the estate. “Felix, right there.”

Felix lowered his head, plastering his lips against your neck. “Good girl, I want to feel your pussy cumming around my fingers. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

You sang his praises as he pressed the pad of his fingers against a spot that made your head spin. “My God, yes.” 

Without another word, you felt yourself reach your climax. Your hips stuttered, and you absentmindedly arched yourself against Felix’s hand. Walls clenching around the length of his fingers, you gasped and spluttered as wave after wave of pleasure smashed into you completely. Leaving you to be a shaking, trembling mess.

Felix pulled his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to your lips. He watched as you sucked on his fingers, tasting yourself. “You’re so fucking hot. That’s the loudest I’ve ever heard you.”

You merely smiled around his digits, suddenly at a loss for words. But before you could compose yourself to respond, the door burst open. You immediately turn your head, caught off guard by the sudden sound.

“Fi, you think we should unlock her door now or what?”

Farleigh stood in the doorway, illumination catching onto his many coils. His face turned into one of realisation at the sight of you and his cousin so vulnerable on the top of his bed. Surprise flittered his dark eyes before a grin broke his lips.

He whistled at your bare form. “Looking good, honey.”

Felix snatched his shirt from above your head to cover your exposed breasts. “Farleigh, you know you should’ve knocked.”

Farleigh doesn’t look apologetic in the slightest. Instead, he turned upon his heel and began to return to the penumbra of darkness he had come from. “Maybe lock your door next time, and stop being so damn loud.”

Cheeks flushed, you turned your head to see Felix grinning down at you. He took amusement in the fact Farleigh walked into the both of you. And perfectly unaware that you hadn’t missed what his cousin stated in the first place.

“So, were you going to wait after you fucked me to tell me you were in on it?”

Felix paled.

WORD COUNT: 3K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[sincerelyverena]

I’d like to request a Felix Catton smut where the reader and Felix are in the library ir study room in saltburn and she is sitting on his lap while he reads a book and she looks through a magazine. But as she leans in she accidentally humps into him making him let out a small moan. Then she innocently knowing the effect it has on him she slowly starts jumping into him as his hands run to her waist. Then they end of fucking in the library .

i luv all of these requests for fi (which I'm slowly starting to get thru lmao), thank u sm for the req anon! mwah!

⟡⁺ WRITER'S BLOCK

. . . FELIX CATTON X FEM!READER ‘tryna put her mind into the inside of my zipper.’

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒you drive felix crazy in every which way, even when you're not aware of it. especially when you're not aware.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐established relationship ﹐dry-humping ﹐felix is a pillow princess ﹐hashtag bring back dry humping1!!1 ﹐what is it w yall and fucking in a library ﹐reader might b a little zesty but who isnt atp its 2007 everyones gay

You loved lazy afternoons with Felix more than anything in the world.

The air is silent. It was not uncomfortable silence by any stretch of the imagination; it was peaceful. The library you occupied that afternoon was dimly lit, and the smell of books and cigarette smoke tingled in your nostrils with every breath. You and Felix found an otherwise quiet corner in the back of the library, residing on one of the numerous leather-bound sofas nearby.

“So fuckin’ boring,” Felix grumbled to himself. He balanced the hide-bound book on the top of the curve of your thigh, the pad of his large fingers flipping through the thin pages rather lazily. He had leant back into the surface of the lounge, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

On the other hand, you were stable on the top of Felix’s lap. Legs strewn over the muscular surface of his thighs and calves. He was warm, like always. Uncomparable to a fireplace, he alight a flame inside you like nobody else could. Especially as Felix’s hand grasped the line of your waist, thumb caressing circles into your skin. 

You have a magazine placed on your lap. Flipping through the latest Playboy issue Felix had picked up the other weekend. Sara Jean Underwood was sprawled over the flimsy pages caught underneath your forefingers. You needed ideas for lingerie, and the women within the volume weren’t too bad to look at either.

Thoughtfully, you dog-eared a page of one of the models in an intimate position. “You were the one that chose to study during break.” You pointed out without raising your eyes, sensing how tense your boyfriend was underneath you.

“Well, someone here has to,” Felix remarked, rather smartly. He abandoned the book in his hands momentarily to place his head into the crook of your neck. You could feel the warmth of the curve of his cheek against your own, his breath fanning the loose strands of your hair.

The two of you fell back into that comfortable, intimate silence. Cut through by the sound of pages flipping. You leant forward, shifting your hips to adjust your position on top of Felix. You hadn’t realised what you had done until you heard a soft groan and a sudden hardness pressed against the curve of your ass.

You ducked your head, shielding the smile that threatened to quirk upon your lips. Inclining backward, your back hit his chest. Knowing damn well what was going through his head. “You okay?”

A grunt escaped Felix with your words. His fingers clutched the surface of his book a little tighter, his hand rose to steady his cigarette. “Yea, why wouldn’t I be? Are you okay, darlin?”

“I’m fine, Fi.”

“You sure?”

You ignored the heat unfurling in your gut. “Mhm.”

Felix returned to the book between his palms, yet you were unable to focus on the magazine sprawled across your lap. You were more focused on the bulge that strained against the fabric of Felix’s pants, which you sat on at that current moment.

So you were unable to help yourself. You bent back forward, hips shifted. You acted subtly about it, feeling the tilt of your ass grind against your boyfriend’s clothed cock. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling the moan that threatened to escape.

“[Y/N].” Felix breathed. The noise was throaty and strained. His fingers abandoned the book that balanced on your knee, moving to the curve of your waist.

“Felix?” You managed to muster, feigning some sort of innocence as you glanced over your shoulder. There was a foreign heat in Felix’s eyes, as he met your own dimmed hues. You virtually jolted with excitement.

Felix’s hand slipped a little further downward, toward the hem of your jeans. The pad of his fingers teased the button, popping it to loosen the fabric around your hips. “You’re such a fuckin’ tease, you know that, yeah?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Playing dumb was your specialty, but you were unable to hold back the sly smirk that crossed the frame of your lips.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, princess.” He insisted at once, fingers moving to loosen the zip downward. Felix’s other palm slid down the fabric of your flared jeans, buckling his hips to encourage the material to roll down your thighs.

You stifled another moan, watching as the garment pooled at your ankles.

Felix didn’t hesitate to slip two fingers underneath the lace of the tight thong you had decided to wear, a hungry look circulating in his eyes. You could feel the tip of his fingers dipping between your slick folds. “So damn wet for me.”

A thud sounded out throughout the library as the book that was once in Felix’s palms hit the ground. You flipped yourself over so you were facing him, thighs pressed on either side of his legs. His erection pressed more insistently, and you couldn’t help but allow yourself to unbutton the hem of Felix’s jeans.

“Yeah, yeah.” You drawled out, somewhat too stubborn to admit the hold he had upon you. You were too busy rolling down the denim, fingers latched onto the band of his boxers. “Maybe focus on getting these off instead.”

Felix only smirked to himself.

Within a few seconds, you had freed him from the confinements of his undergarments. Eyes locked upon his length, your core virtually twitched from excitement. You rose a single hand, fisting his girth once. Then twice. Fingers rolled down the rigid skin, causing Felix to incline his head backwards to groan.

“C’mon, hurry up and lemme get inside of you.” Felix pressed. You could see the sexual frustration in his eyes as he pulled his cigarette back toward his lips, the smell of weed high in the air. Filling your lungs.

“Fine. Fine.”

You rolled your eyes at his impatience momentarily before you lined his girth up with the slickness of your entrance, rolling the fabric of your undergarments down. Before you allowed him to sink into you, stretching you up like the two of you had done time and time again. Walls clenching, you absentmindedly moaned at the feeling of him filling you up. And so did Felix, whose elatedness filled the entirety of his eyes.

You were quick to shift against him. Moving. Felix leant back against the leather of the couch, watching with heated eyes as you bounced up and down on his girth. He inclined his head back, soft moans escaping his lips.

A hand was pressed against the rigid muscle of his chest. “You’re acting like you haven’t had pussy in months.”

“Twenty-four hours is a long time to wait, darlin.” Felix drawled.

You bounced back on him to shut him up.

It was only a matter of time until you felt that familiar warmth tingle deep within your gut, gradually building up with each thrust of your hips and with each moan that left your hips. You were insanely close, and so was he.

Felix had his head burrowed into the crook of your neck, hands gripping almost desperately around your waist. With a couple more professionally placed movements, you felt his cock twitch inside of you before a pussyful of seed began to fill you up from the inside out. 

“God, you’re such a good fuck, arench’a?” Felix praised you through ragged breaths, which only quickened as you sped up your pace. Helping him to ride out his orgasm. 

The heat of his come was enough for you to climax yourself, and with a shuddery yelp, the metaphorical dam inside of you snapped. You tilted your back, moaning loud enough for the entirety of Saltburn to hear. Walls clamping, hips twitching. You ground yourself desperately upon Felix’s cock, prolonging the waves of pleasure you experienced as long as possible.

Eventually, the both of you had settled into something similar to serenity.

Your breaths began to slack, resting your head against the tilt of Felix’s chest. His hands rose to cradle you against him. He was still inside of you. It served as a comfort more than something for pleasure as the two of you slowed down.

“You didn’t do that much studying after all.”

“Oh, shuddup.”

WORD COUNT: 1.5K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[sincerelyverena]

⟡⁺ PUPPY PRINCESS

. . . OLIVER QUICK X FELIX CATTON X FEM!READER ‘you know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend.’ @watercolorskyy

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒as felix's girlfriend, you've never had a longing for anyone else. except oliver. you bring up the idea of the two of you fucking the meeker male, and surprisingly, felix complies.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐threesome ﹐sub!oliver ﹐dom!felix ﹐reader and felix are an established pairing ﹐reader is a freak﹐reader treating oliver like the princess he is ﹐mainly focused on reader and oliver﹐felix is the core of the pairing ﹐mutual pining ﹐public sex﹐pussy worship ﹐tongue-fucking ﹐anal ﹐pet names ﹐implied aftercare

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @sparklehani ﹐@vikwrites

Oliver Quick. Your kryptonite. 

Feeble Oliver from Oxford, who would’ve guessed? Over the fragile rim of the porcelain tea cup pressed to your lips, you scrutinized an oblivious Oliver. A particular aura radiated off of him, a glow you had never encountered from your brief acquaintance on campus. 

Was it attractive? Immensely.

You adverted your attention off Oliver as a skyscraper-remanent individual bounded through the doorway. A chorus of greetings rose in the air at the sight of Felix Catton, the contagious energy you esteem to be your boyfriend of six months. The manicured length of your nails tapped along your fragile teacup as Felix made a beeline straight to the vacant seat beside you.

“I told you to go easy with the wine, Fi.” You scolded him playfully, reaching upward to draw your thumbs across the thin, darkened areas illustrating Felix’s under-eyes.

The molten brown of Felix’s eyes twinkle mischievously. “I drank it like any other bottle of alcohol you offered me.”

You inclined your head upwards, heart giving an absentminded flutter as you felt the warmth of his lips encaptured your own. It was more of a peck, rather than a kiss but the searing heat you reciprocated was a welcoming sensation nevertheless.

“Wine makes you sleepy though.”

Felix responded with a joking grumble and a hand to the inner mound of your thigh. The corners of your lips quirk up endearingly. 

As you drew your attention to the lukewarm cup of tea perched before you, you caught sight of Oliver. More specifically, how the coolness of his ocean-dripping eyes bored into you. The fashion in which the thick lashes lined his eyes, which fluttered innocently. How the aquamarine speckles of his hues flickered towards Felix, who rubbed absentminded circles into the base of your thigh. A heat circulated in his surveying gaze, a heat that directly arrowed toward your abdomen. Pooling, molten warmth that dripped down the sleight of your back and ran under your skin.

The edge of your tongue flickers over your suddenly dry lips. All you can think about. All you can even render is the idea of Felix’s girth straining against Oliver’s heat. His best friend’s head smuggled between your thighs.

The scandalous nature of these images protrudes your thoughts for the rest of the day. The heat that resulted followed you to the point where you were aware of how your arousal soaked a patch through your thong.

As the hours ticked by, the horizon continuously darkened. Ridding the atmosphere from the rays of sun illuminance. The sky is painted in a fluid darkness. Stars scattered the canvas of twilight, an immense contrast against the crystal-clear waters of the estate rivers. Shadows chased each other across Saltburn, like spirits, discovered in every untouched crook and crevice. The ideal scenery for the night swim Felix had prompted you and the three others into.

Farleigh and Venetia had made an early exit a few minutes prior, tired eyes proclaiming a desire for their beds. This left you and Felix, the two of you sprawled upon inclined lounges by one of the various lakes tucked into the estate yards. Oliver, on the other hand, drifts across the deep, clear waters that rippled around his physique. Revealing a stomach that caused the ache haunting the space between your thighs to intensify in nature. 

Your horny, dazed nature had returned.

“You’re thinking hard right now, aren’t you?” Felix prompted, a soft tinge prominent in his tone. His head inclined, and the roundness of his eyes bored immensely into you. Served as a signal that he had been watching you for some time.

You lolled your head back against the lounge chair behind you. Your gaze had prominently latched onto every singular droplet of water that rolled off of the muscles that rippled throughout Oliver’s silhouette.

Your next words escaped you bluntly. “I want us to fuck him.”

“Never knew you were interested in Oliver like that.”

“I have no damn clue what happened to him since Oxford but…”

You didn’t have to complete your sentence as you sucked in a sharp breath, finally tearing your eyes away from him completely to meet the darkness of Felix’s gaze.

“Whatever makes my princess happy.” Felix complied without missing a beat.

Felix was brisk to inch towards you, leaning over the slight bridge of a gap between the both of you. The lushness of his lips met the crevice of your neck, burying himself into you. Drowning him in the fragrance that practically dripped off of you. The soft motions of his lips intensified the roar of want dripping from your womanhood. You choked back a strangled gasp as the long frame of Felix’s fingers slipped underneath the scarce fabric of your bikini bottoms. Digits rolling to explore the gushing wetness that circulated between your folds.

“Ollie!” Felix's voice rang over his shoulder, blissfully ignorant to the fashion in which you buckled upwards for a hitch of friction.

In the hue of his loudness, Oliver’s head popped upwards from his current floating state. If you weren’t overwhelmed by the heat that sparked from each skim of Felix’s fingers, you’d let out a good-hearted chuckle at how wide-eyed Oliver looked at this moment.

“Yeah?”

“Come and help my girl out, would you?”

Oliver sauntered toward you with an indescribable emotion playing in his doe remanent eyes. His expression refused to falter, not even in the slightest as his gaze adverted toward the sight of Felix teasing your heat.

Virtually, you were on the edge of release as soon as you witnessed how Oliver dropped to his knees in front of you. Felix refused to remove his hand, even as Oliver shoved the fabric of your bikini bottoms aside to reveal your wetness. 

You murmured a wordless prayer to whatever god reigned above as Oliver released a low whistle, the base of his tongue wetting his lips as he took in the altar you presented before him.

“We don’t have all day, Ollie.” Felix drawled onwards, the base of his forefinger continuing to prod the throbbing pearl lining your entrance.

Oliver obeyed, leaned forward, and licked a harsh swipe of saliva across your heat. Your back involuntarily arched at the sensation that followed, prompting the man before you to virtually submit himself to you. Head between your legs, just as you imagined the hours prior. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” Felix murmured into the husk of your ear.

A barely incomprehensible response escaped the edge of your lips. The combination of Oliver working his mouth between your folds and Felix’s soothing motions across the nub of your clit resulted in hot, heavy sparks of pleasure building up at the base of your spine. 

You buckled your hips upwards, practically on the verge of face-fucking Oliver. “Oh, my fucking…” 

“[Y/N]...” Oliver murmured into your heat, the vibrations rooted from his mumbled words arrowed straight to your pooling core. The hand that wasn’t on the verge of tearing off your bikini bottoms completely clawed around the base of your thigh, drawing himself closer.

As if your body was a temple, and you were a goddess.

The length of your legs draped over the bareness of his back, the sensations of his muscles rippling with effort felt throughout your calves. The cool, wet skin of his shoulders pressed against you was a feeling beyond words.

Your orgasm began to trickle in with a singular stuffing of Oliver’s tongue. A cry rips itself from your throat, writhing with each pump. 

“Ollie– Christ, right there baby…” 

Saliva gradually begins to roll down the base of Oliver’s chin with effort, peering up at you with those fucking eyes as he continues to pound your wetness. With a few more ruts of his tongue, you came undone underneath his mouth. A strangled cry escapes you involuntarily, vision blurring momentarily as shockwaves grapple your entire being.

The force of your words escaped you in slight breaths. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that, Ollie?”

“Well…” Oliver’s cheeks flushed before he continued to lick up every last drop of your release, stimulating your throbbing heat once again.

You slumped back into the frame of the lounge chair underneath you. Amid your post-peak haze, the choked noises of Felix’s heavy breathing cut through the air like a knife. You hadn’t even noticed he had removed his hand in the first place. Through the corner of your heavy-lidded eyes, you spied Felix, palming himself through his swimming trunks' thin, flimsy material. 

“Fuck… Ollie, get to your feet.” Felix mustered in between strained words, managing to hold a reign of command over the young man planted before you.

The lounge chair squeaked beneath you with a strain of effort as you prop yourself up on the bridge of your elbows. A slight smirk gradually threatened the corner of your lips as you watched Felix stalk towards Oliver, step-by-step, inch-by-inch. All whilst teasing the waistband of his summer shorts. 

Felix’s taller statue practically leered downward at the shorter male like a beast, a predator to his prey. The broadness of his body strained against the muscles lining Oliver’s back. The harsh ripple of Felix’s swimming trunks being discarded sounded throughout the otherwise quiet atmosphere, accompanied by the short whimper that reverberated from Oliver at the mere concept of Felix pressing himself against him.

The broadened surface of Felix’s fingers fiddled with the top of Oliver’s summer shorts. The commanding hues of his voice corresponded with the thin rustle of fabric. “Do you want to fuck my pretty baby right here, Ollie?”

The azure speckles that lined Oliver’s eyes virtually burned into you with the intensity of his stare. As you sprawled out upon the lounge chair right in his proximity, your bikini brief dangled loosely upon the rim of your ankles. Presenting yourself to him in the process.

Oliver managed to muster a nod. “I would be honored.” His voice sounded strained with arousal, no doubt.

With a lack of warning, Felix lowered Oliver’s trunks until his erection escaped without struggle. There wasn’t any question about how undeniably hard he was, especially when Felix pressed into him. 

With a signature rip of foil, the male who stood over you began to attempt to line himself up with the slickness of your heat. A soft gasp, brimmed with desperation, reverberated from Oliver as Felix continued to tease his hole. Oliver wrung his palms around the arms of the lounge chair you possessed, making it easier for Felix to push into Oliver with a singular thrust and a line of saliva. 

Oliver’s breaths picked up the pace as Felix began to work his heat further. His eyes grew a tad glossier at the immense discomfort brewing in his tight hole. 

“Felix…”

“Don’t keep my princess waiting now.” Felix exaggerated the intensity of his words with a simple grinding motion of his hips against Oliver’s own.

Oliver’s breath had noticeably caught in the hollow of his throat. He obeyed though, wordlessly. Was it the harsh hues of Felix’s demanding words? Or the fashion in which Felix gradually thrusts in and out of Oliver’s heat, teasing his hole further. Encouragement. If you will.

Oliver’s girth buried itself into your willing cunt, inch by inch until his cock had disappeared fully into your body. Your lips parted absentmindedly at the remote concept of his size. Molten heat pooled throughout your abdomen at the sight of Oliver towering over you, puffing out a strained breath as Felix quickened his pace behind him.

Eyes half-lidded and cheeks flushed, Oliver began shifting his hips. A smooth tempo of his thrusts stimulates your inner walls, resulting in a slight moan reverberating from you. Felix’s eyes notably shift into something else entirely at the sound, his girth rutting Oliver with a spark of intensity.

“Wasn’t that hard, was it, Ollie?” Felix drawled onwards, a hint of teasing prominent as he slammed himself deeper into Oliver’s heat. The hue of Oliver’s whimpers fell upon deaf ears as Felix continued to draw out his words. “So good for us.”

The double doses of pleasure resulted in the heated flush of Oliver’s cheeks creeping down his neck. The sensual pace of his lips grew deeper, a tad sloppier as Oliver’s back involuntarily arched in protest. “This… is– fuck, Felix…”

“You can do this, baby.” You purred amid tangent breaths, peering upward at Oliver with a pair of lust-drenched eyes. Capable of causing Oliver to peak right there, right then. “Mmm… I’ll help ya’ out.”

Oliver couldn’t have gotten a word in at all before you draped the length of your legs across his bare waist. His hips inclined closer to you in the process, your pelvis tilted upward to allow the flushed male to pound into areas you never thought were possible.

“Christ, [Y/N]... [Y/N].”

The dirty sound of your name on his lips like a prayer, accompanied by the hot, searing pleasure burning through you caused your release to threaten you. Building up along your spine. Threatened to unleash with every buckle of Oliver’s hips, searing into you.

“She’s good at this, ain’t she, Ollie?” Felix taunted light-heartedly, broadened palms clutching along the bone of Oliver’s hips. Grinding him backward into his cock, still jacking away into his hole.

The newfound sensation brought a strangled gasp to rip out of Oliver’s throat, eyes slammed closed momentarily. “So… fucking tight.”

A soft chuckle bore Felix, hips striking ass as the roll of his girth grew to a brutal pace. Soft grunts of delight escaped Oliver, but his poundings grew sloppier and sloppier – signaling how close he was. 

The lack of attention upon your wetness made you groan absentmindedly. “Ollie, you… fucking prick.”

Heat convulsing with a need to peak, you drew Oliver further back into you via his hips. His girth struck a key sensitivity within you, once. Twice. Thrice. Until the tension that built up within you dissolved into mere pleasure, virtually seeing stars as Oliver’s name played upon your lips like a prayer to the Gods.

By the time you returned to reality, Oliver wrothe at his peak. His hips had jerked, spilling every drop of his release into the rubbery goodness rolled over his tip. Felix had followed shortly afterward, the toned nature of his silhouette glistening with newfound sweat. His pleasure-laced groans sliced the air as he proceeded to flood himself into Oliver. Felix reached upward, palm curled around the hollow of his throat and inclining his head backward as he rode out his orgasm.

“That’s it, Ollie. So good for me.”

In the midst of you catching your breath, you witnessed Oliver bathed in the light of Felix’s praise. Mouth agape. Azure eyes speckled with nothing but absolute pride. Eventually, Felix released Oliver, leaving a blooming red mark illustrating the crook of his neck in his wake. The silence drew on momentarily as the males managed to catch their breath.

“You never answered my question, Ollie.” You prompted after a few beats, leaned over to pull your bikini briefs over your hips once more. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“[Y/N]...” Oliver started, yet failed to finish as his cheeks flushed with adoration.

“Slow down on the investigations, doll.” Felix chimed in, his once dominant exterior melted down into the playful guy we all had known to love. He clasped Oliver on the shoulder, so casually, that you wouldn’t have guessed he was inside him a few minutes prior. “I think our dear Ollie has had enough for one day.”

You gave a teasing roll of your eyes but didn't press onward. Instead, you extended your arms out in a singular grand motion. “C’mere then, both of you.”

As the two males tucked themself into the base of your shoulders, you realized that they would do everything for you. 

And you would do anything for them.

WORD COUNT: 2K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[sincerelyverena]

pls pls pls charles x short!alive!reader? established relationship, maybe just some fluffy moments between the two?

⟡⁺ THE GHOST OF YOU

tysm for the req, anon! 💞💞 ive thoroughly enjoyed my return here, n now the story is yours n i hoped u enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it <3 special shoutout to my dbd betareaders, i love and appreciate all of u sm!

. . . CHARLES ROWLAND X GN!READER ‘think i like you best when you're just with me and no one else.’ @andforthecoating

inbox is always open for requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒you love him. and he loves you too. a story as simple as that.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒fluff ﹐short!reader﹐alive!reader ﹐established relationship ﹐im still getting a feel for charles character so go easy on me pls ﹐havent written non-smut in a long LONG time

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @love-xoxojules﹐@immortal101 ﹐@fadedpictures91 ﹐@charles-rxwlands﹐ @kidbiscuitt @smallestgremlin

Falling in love with a ghost wasn’t on the cards for you, until you met Charles Rowland.

The supernatural had haunted you since you were a small child, being the victim of a near-death experience isn’t easy on any youngling. Especially you. The consequences of viewing these seemingly mythological creatures took years of patience and silent work to endure, more so, because nobody would ever believe you if you told them you saw ghosts. How ghastly.

And as a young child, you couldn’t imagine that decades into the future, you’d be laid between the arms of one. Two bronzed columns that supported the minuscule length of your torso. And for a ghost? Charles is oddly warm. Or maybe that’s you warming up to your idea of your body heat, marinating in the crisp sheets of your bed. A sanctuary the two of you now shared, together.

But it was nice to think that it was Charles too. He was the reason why you felt comfortable and protected after all. In a world of witchcraft, warlocks, dangers, and death Charles was your home.

A pair of bow-turned lips place themselves against your temple, assisting you in drifting out of sleep. Charles murmurs against the surface of your skin, planting scattered kisses along the top of your head in the process. ‘Dove, we’re meeting Crystal for coffee, remember?’

Charles’s gently mustered words are enough to serenade a response out of your sleepy self. You murmur incoherent words, flipping yourself over so that when you inch your eyes open, they can delight in your boyfriend’s beauty.

His ebony-clad curls are fluffed to perfection atop his head, not a hint of bed-head in sight, which you consider impressive before you remember that Charles mostly spent the night just watching you. As if nothing else in the world matters. You extend a hand to the defined curve of his jaw, practically guiding his lips toward your own. They lock together in familiarity, and nothing but pure, honeyed ecstasy buzzes throughout you. This is better than coffee, better than anything. Charles tasted like heaven, hell, and everything in between.

And as you two separated, Charles beamed down at you with something indescribable bouncing around in his whiskey eyes.  ‘I think a sleep-in wouldn’t hurt, now, would it?’ Rising to the day seems like the logical option. Something that barely crosses your mind for a second before you fall captive to those bronzed arms, weaving around the hitch of your waist. And before you know it, you discover yourself half-tossed atop the ghost you had fallen for. The tall length of his legs tangled with your own. And any responsible, adult-like thought dissolved as your lips crashed together. Something oh-so-destructible yet perfect, how could you say no?

And possibly, that perfect destruction is always the reason why you both are considered late to possibly anything imaginable. If Edwin found himself in the depths of the fiery circles of hell again, the entire group would bet that you and Charles would take an eternity to part before he’d get rescued. It’d be more beneficial for Edwin to smuggle out himself.

‘We’re going to be awfully late, angel.’

‘Maybe because you keep distracting me.’

‘Nonsense, I’m brills and can do no wrong.’

You tear your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror before you. You scrutinise Charles with a disbelieving gaze at his words, which shortly dissolve into nothing less than adoration. Nevertheless, you continued to feign annoyance as you combed a single hand through your hair and down your scalp. Fingers adjusting the little strands to suit your desire for tidiness. 

You abandon this aspiration, pivoting upon your heel. The mask of annoyance you pertain slips away into nothingness as a soft laugh escapes you amid your words. Facing your boyfriend, you slip a hand into his own.

‘You’re lucky that I love you.’ 

'I am so very lucky.'

Charles’ adjusted his position as he moved his lips from the curve of your forehead, toward the curve of your lips. There was something passionate about how the deep onyx of hues sparked with something even deeper. Something warm and honeyed, indescribable. And before you could even decipher what it was you could feel the honeyed taste of him upon your lips, Charles scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

His arm relented against the small of your back, even as you holler out empty threats and meaningless curses amid your laughter. This merely prompted Charles to bounce you atop his shoulder blade, a chuckle of his own heard as you huffed and puffed. Nevertheless, you would refuse to admit that the action of soft intimacy made you feel over the moon with exhilaration.

A curse of Charles’s own accompanied your laughter as he was a breath away from the side of his torso slamming into the doorway he attempted to parade you through, which frankly made you laugh harder.

‘You’re such a dick.’ You managed to wheeze out.

‘I think you may be right about that one.’

Charles’s voice sounded with a tinge of mischief, which crept, announced in his tone. You could almost hear the grin in his voice as he articulated his words, even through your limited peripheral vision as you were held captive in his arms.

‘You love it, though.’

The Charles-like cockiness your boyfriend presented caused you to blow out a breath of feigned exasperation. Yet, unbeknownst to him, the slow ghost of a smile proceeded to creep onto your lips. Especially as he continued to balance you upon the bridge of his broadened shoulder, for a hint of dramatics, of course. Because you did love it.

And as the two of you ventured toward inevitable lateness, you couldn’t help but think how you couldn’t wait to do it all again the following morning.

WORD COUNT: 973 MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[sincerelyverena]

THANK YOU ANON I LOVE WRITING THIS FIC ALREADY

[sincerelyverena]

this was a request, but unfortunately i posted the draft too soon and it took the message from my inbox. anon, i hope you're out there! in all seriousness, this was super fun to write and i hope to be doing more headcanons in the future.

⟡⁺ DATING OLIVER QUICK HEADCANONS

. . . OLIVER QUICK X GN!READER ‘and they called it puppy love.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒meeting, dating, sfw + nsfw headcanons

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒(n)sfw headcanons﹐friends to lovers ﹐blood kink ﹐marking kink﹐voyurism ﹐dominant!oliver﹐i've never written headcanons before, hope i've made you proud, anon !

meeting:

- You had first seen Oliver when Felix invited him over for drinks. On the contrary to your friends, you had found Oliver’s glasses, button-up shirt and how he stuck out as a sore thumb amongst your type of crowd to be quite charming. - At first, you tittered alongside your mates behind Oliver’s back. But as Farleigh pressured him into buying the table a round of knowingly expensive shots, both you and Felix didn’t hesitate to scold him. - Nevertheless, you and Oliver didn’t properly meet until Felix decided to play Cupid with you and convinced you to go along on a blind date. Your date? Oliver, who had ditched the glasses in favour of your attention and Felix’s opinion. - Oliver was exactly your type in every which way, which surprised you completely. He was a charmer, not to mention, insanely handsome. - The two of you engaged in conversation about your schooling, your dreams and your past. Although, you had noticed that Oliver notably held back on talking about his childhood. You wouldn’t press on about it, out of politeness. - The only downside to this little blind date was Felix and India’s horrible cooking, a strange rendition of spaghetti bolognese which you were on the verge of hurling back up. Something you and Oliver laughed about on the walk home. - Your first taste of the pasta would be when Felix convinced the two of you to reenact the scene from The Lady and The Tramp. Kissing Oliver felt good, but what didn’t feel good was the burnt taste of the meal you forced down your throat. - Oliver would walk you back to your dorm, where you hug him around the neck and kiss him on the cheek.

dating:

- Oliver likes to make his presence known. He doesn’t mind you having male mates but you can feel the tension in the air if he's by your side during any interactions. He’ll grab on your waist, and pull you a little closer. A reminder to everybody else that you’re his. - It can seem overbearing at times, but it is purely because Oliver thoroughly enjoys your presence and loves to be with you at any time of the day. He’s happiest when he’s around you. Don’t be surprised when he’s ringing on your phone, asking to see you when he was only in your bed a few hours prior. - Oliver loves to take care of you. He’d rather you sit back and allow him to fuss over you, no matter how much you claim otherwise. You’ll find yourself perched on your bed with him bustling around you, wanting to tend to your every need. It was a little startling at first, but now you just find it charming the way he likes to serve you. - As you’re the type to burn yourself out over your studies, Oliver is the first to tell you to take a break. He is always willing to bring your favourite snacks and drinks, and will virtually drag you out of your dorm room to get some fresh air — no matter how much you protest. - When close to finals, Oliver likes to take you for study dates. Tucked in the back of the library with food, nibbles and the material the both of you need to cram. More often than not, you find yourself falling asleep on his shoulder, papers sprawled across your lap. - You and Oliver always attend together to college parties the group is invited to, you love indulging in matching party outfits which Oliver begrudgingly wears — sometimes. And sometimes he likes to go out and pick said outfits with you. - As Oliver is your boyfriend, the group had taken a step back with their behind-the-back tauntings of him. You typically aren’t hesitant to tell somebody off for the harsh things they would say about him, but it wouldn’t soften their judgment in the slightest. Farleigh especially makes known his dislike for Oliver and tells you whenever he isn’t around that you deserve someone better. It had gotten to the point Felix had to step in before you raised a palm to slap the shit out of him. - At the bar, you tend to sit on Oliver’s lap whilst he nurses a drink in his palms. - Oliver likes to establish the fact that you are his and that he is yours, to the point that the entire campus is aware that the two of you are together. This gains him a little respect, even though Oliver had expressed he felt a little out of place in the high Oxford society. - Oliver likes to watch you dance at parties. On the dance floor, he sits aside and just observes as you have a good time with your mates.  - If another guy approaches you? That’s a different story. - Throughout your relationship, Oliver had begun to open up to you about his troubled childhood. You become someone for him to lean on, someone for him to turn to when things get hard. You constantly reassure him that family doesn’t have to be blood, but the people around him and that seems to comfort him enough. - It was no surprise that Oliver had asked you to come with him to his family estate for the summer, and with Felix’s permission, you had zero reason to say no. After finals, the both of you packed up and made your way to the spectacle that is Saltburn.

sfw:

- Oliver likes to lay on top of you while cuddling, tending to bury his head into the crook of your neck. The right position is enough for him to fall into a sleep slumber, with your hand particularly scratching the back of his scalp. Even though you feel like he’s crushing you sometimes, the feeling of his body weighing down on yours is too comforting for you to give a shit. - He prefers to hold your waist rather than your hand, especially through large crowds. This makes you feel as if Oliver is your protector, you feel safer, especially around a lot of people. His grip along your waist would tighten as he guides you in front of him, body a wall of protection against the world. - You tend to sneak into Oliver’s room at Saltburn in the early hours of the morning — Elspeth disallowed the two of you to share one — and cosied up in one of his spare shirts. Oliver places a hand over your mouth as you giggle, the two of you being careful not to wake up Felix who slept next door. - Loves to sneak up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. Oliver tends to distract you with a few kisses here and there. Making it hard for you to think, and to do day-to-day things with your boyfriend in your presence. - Loves to kiss the back of your hands as a greeting. - Oliver is fascinated with you, he likes (and tends) to question how a person like you would ever give him the time of day. Whenever he voices this, you reassure him with a plethora of hugs and kisses, telling him that the two of you are just as deserving of the other. - He takes in every little thing you say. If you ever mention something you’re interested in, don’t be surprised if Oliver somehow finds a way to surprise you with it. This has caused you to stop spilling things around him, feeling bad he feels he has to fulfil your absentminded wishes. It doesn’t stop anything though, as Oliver finds out through your mutual friends your current desires. Bringing them to your doorstep every single time. - Oliver loves to give you spas to end a busy day. With his hands on your scalp, he washes your hair and every singular part of your body. It was like a ritual to him, as he takes the time to worship every inch of you. It's your favourite part of the day, to be this intimate with him. - He learns to cook for you, asking Felix for help before realising he had never touched a pot or pan in his very privileged life. And remember the very burnt spaghetti he had tried to cook the both of you. Oliver turns to the cooks at the college to help him, giving him tips and basic recipes for him to fulfil. Now, your at-dorm date nights are your favourite part of the week. - Oliver can act as tough as he likes, but around you, he’s a big baby.

nsfw:

- Seven inches, more closer to eight than not. Oliver’s uncut, with a pale length and a darker tip. He isn’t particularly worried about hair. He’s the biggest you had ever been with, and it was a bit of a struggle trying to adjust to him. Sometimes you think he’s even too big for you, but you’d never admit that. Unless you want a swelled ego. - If Oliver is a baby whenever he’s in your arms, then he’s domineering whenever he’s fucking you. It is as if he flips a switch whenever he’s the slightest bit horny, it's a little scary at times but for you, it became a bit of a turn-on. Oliver is just a testosterone monster. - Oliver doesn’t care what position y’all are doing, as long as he’s inside of you he’s fulfilled and happy. The two of you could be doing the most basic motions known to man and Oliver will make it feel, sound (and look) like a fucking porno. - He can be extremely filthy with his words, he loves to degrade you, knowing how hot you find it to be. Oliver takes pleasure in saying the most inhumane things to you as he pounds your brains out, possibly his favourite thing about fucking you. - He is a classified manhandler. - Oliver is a tease during sex. He loves to mindfuck you in any and every way possible until you’re begging for him. Even if it takes hours, he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Fucking Oliver Quick was like fucking a psychological thriller, it was nothing but pure insanity and nothing you had ever experienced before. - He loves to hear your pleas and whimpers, it is an insane turn-on for him. - Oliver doesn’t care where or when it happens if the two of you need some fulfilment, he’s going to please you anywhere regardless. Even if people are around? Nobody cares, well, at least to Oliver. They can watch, for all he thinks.  - So it isn’t a surprise that the two of you have fucked on every possible surface in Saltburn throughout your stay. Oliver’s personal favourite though has to be the thrill of fingering you at the dinner table or the lounge, edging you until the both of you returned to his room. - He loves it whenever you claw down the length of his back and shows off the marks proudly. He prefers for your nails to be longer, to sink them into his skin harder. Drawing blood was never a problem for Oliver, he takes some sort of sick pleasure out of it. - Blood kink. - Will feverishly give you oral out no matter what, even when you’re on your period (if that applies). Even if Oliver has to sneak underneath a table to do it, he will, and his mouth game is insane. That man has you trembling in seconds, and he loves it as much as you do. It had come to the point where whenever Oliver accidentally dropped a fork beneath the tablecloth, everybody coincidentally looked away. - The two of you are the type of couple you be fucking numerous times during the week. - And everybody knows.

WORD COUNT: 2K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[sincerelyverena]

Hello!:D

I see your request post and I want to ask, can you write the reader cockwarming Oliver while he was studying in the library? Anw please stay safe and hydrated <33

this is the first oneshot that ive written after my hiatus and i enjoyed every single second, thank you for your request, anon! light, love and peace 🤍

⟡⁺ WRITE MY WRONGS

. . . OLIVER QUICK X GN!READER ‘i've gotta right my wrongs with you is where i belong.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒a midnight study session with oliver takes a hot and heavy turn.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐kind of an established relationships ﹐sexual friends with benefits ﹐dom!oliver ﹐reader is kind of a goody two shoes ﹐in a library? have some decorum ﹐not sponsored by oxford

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READER: @immortal101

Surprisingly, the library was dead silent at this time of night. In the light of finals approaching, you had expected for the media centre to be scattered with a few of your peers here and there. You were intent on studying in the comfort of your dorm, having loaned out the books you had needed, but Oliver had asked you to come around and help him out with some material he’d been struggling to learn. Begrudgingly, you agreed.

Ever since Oliver had accompanied your crowd — thanks to Felix — you had been one of the only ones in your social circle to have the dignity not to perceive him as a total outcast. Now, Oliver had ditched the glasses you considered to be cute and had taken on a completely new persona to fit in with the others. Maybe that was how he found the confidence to finger-fuck you in the back of the pub the other week.

That memory alone caused you to press your thighs together absentmindedly as you stalked the aisles of the library. The illumination was low, curtains drawn together at once to black out the moonlit sceneries of the college. You filled up your lungs with the scent of books, a couple of picks of parchment and leather you believed would help Oliver tucked into the fabric of the book bag around your shoulder. And you loved the smell of books.

Oliver was perched along the long wood of the table in the back of the library. Legs tucked underneath his chair. Papers are sprawled in front of him. He ran an anxious hand through the brunette tufts of his hair, scrutinizing the media in front of him with a careful eye.

“Oliver.” You prompted, causing his head to rise. The suppleness of his lips curved upward, almost foolishly at the side of you. “[Y/N].”

You approached him at once, wordlessly reaching into the book bag by your hip. You pulled out a few books of your choice on the topic Oliver was struggling with, placing each book atop the shiny, wooden table he leant over in a clean, neat pile. “Thank me later, Ollie.” You pronounce your words with each voluminous thud of the documents.

 “Oh, you didn’t have to.” Oliver raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, he stared up through the fullness of his lashes. He seemed almost embarrassed that he needed your help.

You waved away his words, feeling slightly flustered at the sincerity of his words. “Don’t mention it, it’ll help you after all.” With a drag of your fingers, you pulled out the chair beside Oliver with a low creak of the legs towing against the ground. Sitting down, you incline a finger toward one of the notes Oliver had haphazardly jolted down. “And that’s wrong, by the way.”

Oliver leant back into the foundation of the chair behind him, stifling a groan by dragging a large palm down his face. He peeked out at you behind his fingers. “I think you need to reteach this to me from scratch.”

‘’ Well, that’s what I’m here for. ‘’ You were starting to realise how little Oliver actually knew. 

At once, you cleared your throat. You inclined a little bit forward, toward the cluster of papers that would make any educated person’s head spin. But you were accepted into Oxford for a good reason, and luckily for Oliver, this topic was a speciality of your own. Your words escaped you without hesitance, without doubt. 

You snatched one of the books you bought as a reference, eager to explain your viewpoints by pointing to various excerpts that Oliver could reference. But Oliver wasn’t looking at your hand, he was looking at you.

The book was slammed shut, and you caught your breath. “Any questions?”

Oliver stared at you, looking as if none of that information even set in. But you were none the wiser. His lips curved upward into a wide, sprawling grin as a husky laugh rumbled from the hue of his throat. “You know you’re brilliant, right?”

You laugh alongside him, shaking your head. Feeling giggly at the prospect of him complimenting you in that fashion.

You return back to the mini-lecture you were in the middle of, referencing the small sprawl of notes he had written prior. You inch over once more, shifting to the edge of your seat to reach his notebook placed specially over Oliver’s far side. Cursing a little under your breath, you lose your seating as you hear the chair shift under the curve of your ass.

That same ass that would’ve hit against the hard, wooden ground if a gentle arm didn’t steady the crook of your hips. Your fingers had met the flimsy paper of his notebook the moment you met the concealed heat of Oliver Quick’s bruising stare.

“You ought to be more careful, you know?” Amusement flittered through Oliver’s hues. His fingers, pressed against the curve of your hip, refused to fall away. It burnt through your skin, leaving you helpless to the feelings that circulate within. 

A soft, supple smirk crossed your lips. “All in the name of your education.”

“Maybe sitting on my lap would stop your fidgeting.” It came across as a joke, the way Oliver’s eyes crinkled after he said it. But you knew damn well, it was a suggestion. An offer, almost. The fashion in which he stared into you, a wordless plea. And the thought of moving your ass against the top of his thighs was ever so enticing to think about.

It was enough for you to rise yourself to your feet. “There’s only one way to find out.” You played along with his teasing nature, shuffling through the slight space between chair and table to reach him. Feeling the warmth of his legs through his pants. You shivered.

Oliver watched you intently as you plopped yourself atop his legs, his arms snaking around your hips to hold you in place. To place you against him. A foreign warmth filled you up, from head to toe.

“There you go,” Oliver whispered in the crook of your ear, the sound was throaty. Deep. Intense. He adjusted himself against you, shifting your body weight atop him as he got comfortable. And in the midst of that, you felt a familiar sensation press willingly against the centre of your cheeks.

You turned your head toward him at once, ignoring the blooming heat in your stomach. “Oliver!”

“What?” God, of course, he was smirking. 

You continued to scold him. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

“Or maybe as a bit of motivation,” Oliver purposefully lowered his voice once more, although nobody was really intending to walk foot into the study sanctuary at one in the morning. His eyes were filled with the similar inferno you felt ablaze in your core. “I could slip my cock inside of you and let it fill you up until we’re done.”

A soft groan escaped your lips, looking quite unamused with Oliver thinking with the wrong head. But the idea did seem bearable, as long as it wouldn’t get in the way of you playing teacher. You stared as he watched you for a couple of beats, unable to allow your mouth to quirk upward.

“Fine, I’ll play.” You turned back around, hearing Oliver’s chest rumble with another laugh.

The sound is cut off with the sharp hue of his flier unzipping. Pure, honeyed anticipation burnt underneath your skin as you felt Oliver’s hands return to your hips. Fingers rubbing soft circles into the curve of your skin before pushing down the thick fabric of the sweatpants you had lazily tossed on the half hour prior. 

“So,” Oliver drawled, with an air of casualty, as if he wasn’t preparing to sink his cock inside of you. His fingers pushed down the undergarments you wore, the cold air slapping against bare skin. ‘’ Where did we leave off? ‘’ “Right.” Your words fumbled slightly at the feel of his hands, guiding your hips to buckle upward. You could feel the heat of his length press against your entrance, and you bit down on your lip. Reminding yourself to focus.

Eyes cast upon the books strewn before you, you had continued to speak. Even as Oliver gradually sunk himself into you. You lowered your head slightly, back arched the slightest as you willed to take him further. Oliver was warm. He was perfect.

“God, you fit me so perfectly.” You praised his length without shame. You tore your gaze away from the stack of books before you, feeling Oliver’s knuckles rake against your bare hips. Trailing. Teasing. You’re unable to help but shift yourself against him, mewling at the pleasure that came with it.

Before you could even consider moving again, Oliver’s knuckles extended to long, nimble fingers. He grabbed you at once, holding you still and in place. A grin was visible on his face, eyes crinkling, taking amusement out of your desperation. “I didn’t say you could move yet, [Y/N].”

“You’re such a fuckin’ tease.”

Oliver continued to trail his knuckles against your hips. “I know.”

You continued to take him in. Hot and hardened inside of you. And studying while being stuffed with Oliver Quick’s cock was a different game completely. You had attempted to continue to explain the concepts to him, who listened intently as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of your heat that second. Your voice wasn’t a stranger to shaking or drifting off, resisting the urge to buck yourself against him. To seek the pleasure hung over your head.

Whenever you went long enough into a quiet, pleasurable silence, Oliver would do the same thing. His knuckles raked toward the top of your ass lightly before his palm clasps over one cheek, squeezing it between his fingers threateningly. But this time, he leant over, mouth at your ear. Then your cheek. Lips hot as Oliver pressed wet kisses down your skin, reaching a patch at your neck that made you involuntarily moan. Fingers curling around the book you held.

“I think you’re in need of a study break, arent’cha?” Oliver mumbled into your skin.

“We’ve barely gone over the —”

Before you could even finish your protests, Oliver reached forward to shove the material on the table to the floor in a flurry of papers and books. He snatched your waist in between his two, large palms, standing to his feet and keeping his length deep within you as he swept you off his lap. You slam against the wood of the table, to the point you can almost feel it splinter underneath your body. Then Oliver pulled out.

Before he drove back into you.

WORD COUNT: 1.8K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[sincerelyverena]

can u write a charles x alive and very stubborn/dramatic reader? the reader is alive but really wants to help with cases, and charles won’t let them out of fear of them getting hurt or dying. so, in retaliation, the reader just puts on like a shit ton of iron jewelry to keep charles away from them lol. tysm!!

⟡⁺ OUR IRON LUNG

thank you for the support, anon!

. . . CHARLES ROWLAND X GN!READER ‘faith, you're driving me away.’ @andforthecoating

inbox is always open for requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒charles doesn't let you tag along for cases, so you retaliate with something that'll give him more than a metaphorical headache.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒fluff ﹐alive!reader﹐stubborn!reader ﹐established partner ﹐reader is petty asf ﹐charles hurt his bum bum on the iron ﹐willy willy

You admired the set of rings, bangles and earrings you had stolen from the back of a bunch of nearby charity shops. Small ones. Big ones. Necklaces so lengthy that they would reach the ground with zero issues. But what did all of these items of glamour have in common?

‘Are you having a laugh? Iron, seriously?’ Charles demanded at once at the sight of you.

You had your hands raised. Solid, iron rings decorated every finger, travelling down to the other items dangling by your wrists. By your neck. Even a set of iron anklets by your feet. You went the extra mile to prove a point.

‘Perhaps if you let me help with this case.’ You teasingly slipped a finger around one of the rings, gradually slipping it off of one digit. Before you turn around and transfer it to another, your tone turned blunt and annoyed. ‘I wouldn’t be doing this right now.’

‘It’s for your good, love, honestly.’ Charles continued to argue, moving to reach out before realising he was incapable of touching you unless he wanted to experience some real affliction. ‘Are you seriously telling me you want me in pain? That's what you're saying, isn't it?’

You pressed your hands together, rings twinkling in the overhead lights of the corridor. ‘No. I’m asking to just help on a bloody case!”

Crystal poked her head out of her room. Her dark eyes were filled to the brim with concern as she watched you and your boyfriend argue back and forth, the concern doubling at the iron you wore from head to toe.

‘Charles, maybe let her tag along on this one.’ Crystal says, in an attempt to resolve the situation. Looking half worried she’ll step out and some ghost is going to be struck with your iron fist if anyone else debated with your movement.

‘Oi, I’m not that thick, alright?’ Charles shot back in turn, looking over his shoulder before he turned back toward you. His eyes softened, voice lowering as he spoke once more.

‘Look, these cases are proper dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt, alright?’

‘As long as I have you, I won’t.’ You continued to press him, lowering your iron-clad hands by your sides. Staring Charles down in the process. ‘Are you saying you won’t be able to protect me?’

Charles took a singular step closer, eyes anxiously flickering down to the iron dangling by your neck. He paused for a moment before he shook his head. ‘Can’t risk it, not this time.’

You scoffed, staring into his worry-filled eyes. Acting like a little kid who didn’t get their way, you turn on your heel, storming back toward your room at the end of the hall. The sounds of your jewellery clinking sounded out behind you.

‘Suit yourself.’ You shouted over your shoulder.

Charles most likely didn’t think this through until later that night. When that case in particular was done and finished, closed successfully. You and him typically cuddled in bed when you were ready for sleep, and even though Charles was incapable of sleep, he liked to be there by your side with you. Like a protector.

But that night, it was impossible as he walked into your room. Eyes falling onto you, still wearing that heavy-ass iron, all about your body. At second glance, this time, there was even more.

‘You’ve got to be taking the mick, right?’ Charles blurted out at once.

You curled up beneath your bedsheets, looking at your boyfriend, innocently. ‘Huh?’

‘The iron, yeah?’

‘I wasn’t joking when I told you to suit yourself.’

Charles clawed both hands through his hair. He was torn between two options. Allow you to tag along on a case and possibly have to witness you die or get hurt, or keep you safe and be unable to touch you for the rest of time. 

‘Look. I’ll make a deal.’ You spoke up, watching as your boyfriend had a mini-crisis right there in your bedroom. And you weren’t that heartless. You propped yourself up on your elbows. 

‘Go on.’ Charles, deflatingly, murmured from behind his hands.

‘I tag along on a case.’ You begin, fiddling with one of the rings weighing your finger down. ‘I’m by your side the whole time and afterwards, if you never want me to come again, I won’t.’

Charles dropped his hands to his sides. He thought for a moment. It made sense. He ignored the jolt of anxiety that told him to say no, to go against it. ‘Fine. But don’t pull this sort of crap again, yeah?’ Charles gestured to the iron jewellery you were currently taking off.

‘I would never want to hurt my perfect, fit, protective boyfriend.’ You drawled, tossing the iron that had the potential to hurt him on the bed.

‘Such a charmer, proper sly.’

Charles was all focused on you as he spoke, giving a roll of his eyes. He reached forward for you, moving to say something else as he plopped himself onto the edge of your covers. But all that came out was a strangled scream as he sat on the disposed iron you had tossed over.

‘OW. BLOODY HELL.’

WORD COUNT: 955 MASTERLIST REQ ME!