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▎ 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊 ~ 𝕱𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖝 𝕮𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖓

Felix Catton headcannons

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𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭, who orders you drinks whenever out clubbing. Holding his arm around your shoulder, making sure all men around know that you’re his. Taking you away from the bar once the bartender looks you up and down with a bit too much lest for his liking.

𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭, who sits back and watches as other men flirt with you, nursing his whisky and laughing at their nerve only to swoop in and stand over them once it goes too far. “She doesn’t want to go home with you.” He finds it fun, watching them get embarrassed, stuttering over their words, only to laugh at them and take you away to safety.

𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭, who sits you on his lap as he works away in his dorm, kissing the top of your head occasionally. Stroking your hand with his thumb.

𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭, who holds you at night, letting your pretty little head rest against his bare chest. Watching your own rise and fall as you gently drift off to sleep. Kissing your cheek as you stir in the night, soothing you back into dreams.

𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭, who promises you that as soon as you both leave university that he will marry you. Assuring you that his family has enough wealth to take care of you for life times. Kissing your fingers and telling you “that’s where I’ll put the ring soon” before chuckling and embracing you.

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• Imagine meeting him at a pub, late night, somewhere in central london. You dont particulary care for the drinks, youre just there because your friends are.

• Imediatly you catch his eye, he's never seen someone quite like you. Your enegry is different, glowing.

• You get talking, about whatever painfully avarage football match is playing over the bar, or whatever was on top of the pops last night. You have so much in common, yet youre such different people.

• He doesnt act the way he does in the tabloids, not around you. His usual rude, loud sassy demeanour is dropped instantly. He acctually listens to you. He doesnt interupt, or disagree, he just sits there on the stall, laughing and nodding his head and any drunken joke you make.

• He would ask for your number, ripping off part of a cigarette package and asking the bar tender for a pen, hastily writing it down.

• He orders your last drink, and kisses you goodnight as you leave.

• The next morning, he calls.

• You could talk for hours, conversation so natural between you. As if you have been friends for life. He asks how you slept, how your morning is, whats for breakfast.

• He finnishes the hour long call with a request of a lunch date.

Thinking about Felix catton just begging to breed you. To produce an heir. The golden sun of the last evening light basking him in a godlike spotlight as he breathes heavily down your neck, telling you how badly he needs you. Sweat dripping down his toned back as he shakes in desperation, the desire to have you right there taking over as his mind fogs with ideas on how to spoil you.

MY GIRL | FELIX CATTON

(🗒️ ᝰ.ᐟ♥︎) 𝒩𝒪𝒯𝐸𝒮 — this came to me in a vision; brainrot about how felix’s savior complex and daddy kink more or less go hand in hand. and just how much he loves you.

WORD COUNT… 1k WARNINGS… 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. f!reader, mentions of nausea + throw up, crying, pet names, daddy kink.

Ever since you met Felix, he’s wanted to take care of you. 

At first it was insulting. He was born into wealth and class, and you weren’t necessarily dealt that hand despite ending up at the same university. You’re not jaded— you come from two different worlds that don’t mesh. Two different backgrounds and your’s happens to be far more tragic. Poetic even, given how far you’ve come. Naturally you assumed he was only trying to get some good guy points by helping you out. Giving you a peek into what it’s like to be in a social circle filled with young adults that vacation in Portofino and have money wired to them every week. 

It took months of warming up to him. Looking back on it, it seems you went from scowling up at him in the middle of conversations to finding his hand in crowded areas before you could blink, with so many fleeting moments of thinking you may throw up on your maryjanes in between. Because surely Felix Catton couldn’t have swept you off your feet so easily. But he did. Lifted you up and kissed your round cheeks in the process, too. 

“I want to take you away while we’re on break,” he says it like it’s so simple, over lunch in your tiny apartment.

“Take me away?” Even you would admit you’re being a bit daft, but it’s fine. 

“Yeah, like… Italy or Greece, wherever you fancy really.”

Oh. There’s that throw up feeling again, mostly due to how casual he is about it. You couldn’t impose like that. Drinking champagne and eating caviar on your uni boyfriend’s private jet— who do you think you are? Not your father’s daughter, that’s for damn sure. However you’re boarding that same jet a week later. Your heart is pounding, hands clammy as you hand off your luggage. At least Felix seems to be having a good day. He helps himself to the complimentary snacks; you can’t even stomach an apple from the fruit bowl. 

And as if on cue, he senses your now visible uneasiness. It’s only the two of you in the cabin of the jet. Beige walls and deep brown, leather seats… throw pillows to give a homey feel, or to give your shaky hands something to grip onto.

Felix reaches out, and his long fingers find your own in seconds, holding them so gently that you remember why you fell for him all over again— “You alright?” 

No. You nod in the opposite direction, regardless. Now finding it in yourself to fake a smile, snuggle close to him and give a big smooch that quells his worries but makes your own grow. It’s childish, you know that. Just say what’s fucking wrong with you. Say that you don’t feel like you belong in this scenery. Go on. Nothing of the sort falls off of your tongue out of your fear of being the bratty, ungrateful girlfriend. And it’s not until long after you two make it to the villa that you’re finally sniffling and sobbing into Felix's shirt. The thin cotton is see through thanks to your tears and drool. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blubber through swollen lips, “This is s’fucking stupid.” 

You two should be going out right about now, but you can’t find it in you to even put on some lip balm through the tears. Let alone slip on a party dress. Felix only holds you tighter. One of his big hands rubs the middle of your back soothingly while he shushes you— “Oh, sweet girl. Don’t be silly, yeah?”

The sniffle he gets in response is expected. 

“Jus’ wish you told me how you’re feeling sooner, little one.” 

You and him both. 

Felix takes your wet face in his hands, cradling your cheeks with the same amount of love he always does. Nothing has changed. Nothing ever will. Especially when you look up at him with those glossy eyes and thick lashes— how precious. Your smaller hands wrap around his wrists whilst he forces you not to shy away from him. 

“Y’know you’re my girl, right?” He starts, leaning in and whispering to you oh-so softly, “Don’t care ‘bout things like that. Just want your pretty self right next to me.” 

You nod, and this time you mean it. Felix kisses your forehead. Then the tip of your nose. Then your lips. Slow and delicate as if you’ll break if he goes too hard on you. At this point, you think you might too. He pulls away, cracks a smile that makes your heart do a little flip and brushes his thumbs under your eyes, collecting the last of your fat tears. He recognizes that dreamy look on your face. Like you’ve been fully pacified, like you feel as safe as you possibly can be. 

“There’s daddy’s girl.” 

He knows just when to get you. Knows to attack when you’re all dizzy and sensitive from crying. Knows that you can’t resist him slowly but surely laying you down, shushing your little sniffles with kisses. More passionate ones, too. The kind that have you gripping at his shirt.

God, that button down is going through it tonight.

You really are a daddy’s girl, now. You’re being taken on expensive getaways, coddled whenever ‘n wherever you need it and now layed to rest on silky sheets. You’re fully his in every sense, and as much as it scares you, the pride in your chest overflows— “I love you, daddy.” 

Both of you stop breathing for a moment, staring at each other with wide eyes before you’re wrapped up in a sloppy kiss. You whine into his mouth, and Felix decides it’s the perfect time to bunch your sundress up, squeezing your waist while he’s at it. He hovers over you, covering your neck and chest with smooches and brushes of his teeth until he drags his lips over your tummy and reaches the waistband of your panties.

You’re already out of breath. Huffing and puffing while he nips at the little bow on your panties, cocoa irises meeting your gaze to let you know you’re in for it… Not the worst way to spend your first night vacay, you suppose.

I cannot stop imagining how rough Felix Catton would be in bed.. like he’s rich, hot and gets all the girls he wants. You’re telling me he wouldn’t get too into it?

Felix lifts you up, grabbing you by your hips whilst thrusting into you carelessly. Admiring your flushed face, drool running slightly out of your mindlessly blabbering mouth. “Oh- fuck- babe.. so fucking good..” He throws his head back wildly, his soft brunette locks falling down his glistening forehead.

“So fucking good for me, aren’t you? So fucking- perfect” He looks down into your face, your head resting against his pillows. Your eyes roll backwards, unable to form words anymore. He mindlessly fucks you like this on the regular yet you’ve never gotten used to the feeling of your cunt being abused hours on end.

He slows down his movements and drops you down on to the bed, falling forwards and caging you with his arms. Breathing heavily before flipping you over. He kisses the back of your neck sloppily, wet trails a leading down your back. The stubble of his unshaven face scratching you, only adding to the overwhelming overstimulation you feel.

You assume your usual position. Raising yourself onto your knees, supported by your arms. Looking backwards into his eyes and he kneels behind you, grinning at your desperation. “Good girl” he rubs your ass, patting you slightly. In the way you would on someone’s back to congratulate them. He lays one more kiss on the back of your neck before straightening up.

He grabs your hips and raises himself higher, to get a better view of your pink, abused pussy from behind. He pushes himself inside, throwing forwards a few thrusts to get back into rhythm. He leans forward and with one hand slams your head down, back into his pillow. With the other he grips your hip and moves you up and down his cock.

He groans, looking back up at the ceiling and rolling his eyes. “God-“ he looks down at you and slaps your ass playfully. Laughing at your fragile condition. “You’d let me do absolutely anything to you” he mutters, narrowing his eyes with complete jubilation.