#michael gavey x female reader
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Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!
Part Two: Carpe Diem
Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici
warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting
If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.
She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.
Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.
Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.
“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!”
“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.
“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”
She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”
“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”
“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”
“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”
She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.
Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place.
The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.
Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding.
As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.
And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.
All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.
In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.
The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.
It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.
What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.
Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.
Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.
So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.
She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.
She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.
It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.
The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.
The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.
Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.
She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.
“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.
She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.
“Not particularly, no.”
His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.
“Why's that?”
This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.
“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”
Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.
“So you're lurking about in here instead.”
He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.
He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.
“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.
She smiles lazily and shrugs.
“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”
He seems to consider her statement for a moment.
“Why come then?”
She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”
“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”
She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.
There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.
“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.
“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.
She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”
There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.
“Modern Languages.”
“Fucking hell,” he groans.
She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.
“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”
She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”
He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”
For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.
He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”
She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”
She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.
“Okay, okay, Michael.”
She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”
It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.
“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.”
The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.
“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”
He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.
“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”
She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.
It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.
“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.
They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between.
“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.
“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”
She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.
Was he checking me out?
As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.
“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”
He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.
“Can’t say there is.”
She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.
“And why not?”
He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”
“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”
He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.
“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”
The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.
Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.
“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”
He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”
She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.
A warmth swirls in her gut at that.
She circles the table, “what about in the past?”
He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.
“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”
The way he says it.
She wouldn't be surprised if he was…
Oh.
“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”
She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.
He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”
She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.
“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”
He seems to miss what she's trying to say.
“Have you been with a girl?”
At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.
She knows she has her answer.
“Well…I…no, I haven't…”
At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.
“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”
His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”
It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it.
“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.
This isn't normal in his world.
Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”
She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”
For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.
She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.
“What if what I want is…you?”
The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.
So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.
The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.
The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.
For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.
The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it.
One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.
He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.
Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.
“Shit - sorry-”
“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”
The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.
Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.
“If you don't want to-”
“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.
She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”
He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.
“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”
He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”
She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.
It's always the skinny white guys.
“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.
She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.
Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.
She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.
She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.
And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it.
Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.
He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.
When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.
The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.
It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.
“Fuck-”
It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.
His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length.
“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.
If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.
Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.
His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.
When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.
“Fucking hell…”
She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.
And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.
“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.
“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.
“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”
His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.
She bites back a grin.
“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”
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Teat of Family Wealth
Authors Note: Short af but I thought of it on my work break. Enjoy the drabble I guess
Taglist: @valeskafics, @omgbrcat @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity
Warnings: None apart from the occasional swear mixed in. Oh, and probably ooc Michael but who gives a shit?
Felix Catton, is a rich cunt sucking directly of the tit of old familiar wealth, and somehow, he doesn’t even know it.
Though to be fair, you yourself have no idea how you managed to wind up being his friend. Considering that compared to all his other mates, you were probably considered poor. Even though compared to all the non-rich shits in school, you were probably seen as well off.
You’d met Felix on the first day of Oxford, wandering around blindly looking for your introductory class to English. And of course knowing your luck, Felix Catton walked right up to you asking if you were lost, and to your gratitude at the time, you were grateful as he directed you were to go. Even blushing at the fact he insisted on putting his number in your phone, just so you could text him if you ever got lost again.
Though from there, you have no idea what happened. As the next thing you knew, you were trailing along after Felix and hanging out with his friends like some sort of fucking puppy, too afraid to leave the comforts of what it knows and go see the world. You knew you were being absolutely pathetic. A desperate bootlicker practically whining for some sort of attention and validation from someone deemed powerful in this world.
It was probably though why you found it so easy to recognise yourself in Oliver Quick. Another desperate nobody that was all but begging for some attention from the so proclaimed ‘big dogs’ of Oxford.
Though his eyes, those were different from yours. His held a type of longing that was directed only at Felix. Compared to his, your eyes looked like you wanted to kill him.
You don’t know how he met Felix, but by the way he came over to the table in the pub after Felix had called him over was nothing but eager. Oliver had been quick to move, grabbing his drink and practically skipping over. Even though you know you saw someone with him at the table earlier.
“Oh wait are you with anyone?” Felix asked, strangely empathetic as he stared at Oliver. Oliver turned around, and you could clearly see the person he’s just been sitting with in a confusing but funny looking shirt awkwardly waving to him, obviously wondering what the hell happened when he’d gone.
“No, they just left…” Oliver replied, ignoring the poor boy who slowly drops his hand and his head, obviously sad at the sudden loss of his drinking partner and so called friend.
It was so sad to look at, that you move to quickly finish your pint, and stand, offering Oliver your seat as you walk away. You can’t hear if anyone objects. If anything, they probably don’t care about you enough or even at all to even notice.
“Hey! How I roll guy!” You yell, and to your surprise, he actually turns around and gives you a judging glare rivalling even Heras.
“What?” He grunts, his brows furrowed as his eyes rake over your whole body, as if he had the ability to see every one of your insecurities.
You take a deep breathe, oddly nervous. “Oliver Quick is a bootlicking cunt and quite honestly, you deserve a much better friend than that puppy.”
There’s silence between you two, that’s only broken by the odd drunk fuelled talk coming from the direction of the pub, and eventually, by a small hum coming from the guys lips.
“You’re not wrong…” He says, smiling as he no doubt thinks over what you just said. “Though, I suppose the same could be said about you. Don’t you hang desperately on the rich buff arms of your own bff Felix Catton?”
“Felix is as much as my friend as I am friends with my own shit.” You bluntly say, and to your surprise, he begins chuckling, even slowly beginning to physically shake with laughter, while you stand there awkwardly waiting for him to stop.
“Can’t say you’re wrong comparing good old Felix to good old fashioned excrement!” He grins, finally calming down and fixing his glasses which had gone wonky in strangely enthusiastic laughter.
“Wanna grab a pint on me?” You can’t stop yourself from saying it. This guy in front of you, as brought more of a good conversation than any of the people in Felixes friend group ever could. At least this guy laughed at your sense of humour. The others just exchanged awkward looks and fake laughs.
“Sure, why not?” He shrugs, walking in some random direction and leaving you to stand in the path on your own.
“Where are you going?!” You shout, cupping your hand over your mouth while you grin at this unexpected turn of events.
“The pub! First rounds on you bootlicker!” He shouts back, an equal looking grin on his own face that to your surprise, you can’t help but find strangely pretty to look at in this lighting.
“Yeah yeah Roll boy!” You shout, slowly beginning to run after him as he huffs out another low chuckle. Maybe this would be the start of a good friendship? Or maybe this would be your doom? All you knew, is that you really needed to learn this guys name before you buy him his drink.
#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey#Michael gavey Drabble#ewan mitchell fanfiction#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell imagine#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell#saltburn movie#saltburn#Felix Catton#michael gavey x female reader#michael gavey fic#michael gavey x y/n#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey x you
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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!
Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again
Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)
You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.
‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.
‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.
‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.
You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.
The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.
You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.
‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.
‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?
‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.
‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.
‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.
‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.
‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.
‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.
‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.
Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.
‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.
Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.
Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.
You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.
Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.
‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.
‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.
‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.
‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.
‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.
‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.
‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.
‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.
‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.
‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.
Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.
‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.
His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.
‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.
‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.
Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.
‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.
‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.
‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.
‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.
‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.
Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey
#barry keoghan#oliver quick#barry keoghan smut#oliver quick smut#druig smut#druig x female reader#druig x reader#druig x y/n#oliver quick fanfic#oliver quick x reader#barry keogan x reader#druig fanfiction#druig imagine#michael gavey smut#felix catton#felix catton smut#oliver quick x reader smut#saltburn smut#saltburn fanfiction#saltburn#saltburn oliver#michael gavey
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🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒
Michael Gavey x Reader (PART ONE)
summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.
warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.
a/n: i forgot to review the movie saltburn last year, so I’ll give it a short review. Saltburn is a weird movie, but i watched it because of Ewan Mitchell. While ewan mitchell is 10/10, saltburn is 7/10, because of the bathtub scene and the grave scene. the only thing that’s good is the cinematography, music and ewan mitchell. i wish there’s more scenes from him. yes, i keep saying his name! he’s so fucking hot as a nerd. this one shot will be long.
You like cherries.
There’s something mysterious and tempting about the roundish and reddish fruits. Cherries are sweet, and it’s dark-reddish color brought an appeal to your appetite and. Appeal that also changes your view in fashion.
And as hot as the Devil’s tongue.
Red symbolized lust.
Sinful, they proclaimed.
So does your pussy, when you splayed across the bed, waiting for Michael to enter and see the reaction of his when you splayed naked in bed with thick whip cream smothered on your tits, waist, and your pussy decorated in whip cream swirled with cherry on top.
***
A Year Ago…
Your parents and your attention seeking relatives are no good. Red is as sin as lust—the devil’s skin, the devil’s horn.
Other than black and pink, you like the dark-cherry color. All your aesthetics are cherry red—well, the undertones to match your little room at your small house belongs to your parents.
Them and their sinless views of the world has sickened to your stomach. You don’t want to be like your hypocritical, martyr parents for the rest of your life, so you applied for the university at Oxford and Northamptonshire. You got accepted to the university. Despite being a young woman, you managed to prove them wrong.
And sever ties with them to go at the University of Oxford, where you encounter numerous people. You’ve done research to get things right—not to be frigid or superficially pretentious; you didn’t want to embarrass yourself on the spot if you chose to be ignorant.
One thing that no one else knows of you, is that you moonlight as a dominatrix on a live stream. Every night, you broadcast online to pleasure yourself—that’s how you got money to bail from a strict and hypocritical religious household.
Few of the students looked at your direction, giving a side-eye. You overheard them calling you a prostitute, but you couldn’t care less. Dress to impress for yourself. You mostly wore bike leather jacket, a tank top, mini skirt and a chunky dark-cherry red boots with light make up, but the lipstick is glossy dark red—and not the irritable, sticky kind.
Your long locks tossed at the side, already at your assigned room, but you shut the windows completely. You don’t want to reveal the private side of your internet sensation. After closing the curtains, you’re off to the hall, where people gathered and talk, mainly about drama and parties.
You hadn’t known one. But you had party to yourself of gaining source of income from self-pleasure.
There you sat down, and overheard someone at your left. Afar, you saw a young man named Oliver Quick and another guy with nerdy glasses.
Michael Gavey.
“Fuckin’ ask me a sum then!” The chatter dimmed when a young man shouted about math.
No one really likes as the guy with the nerdy glasses does. But he does look cute when he’s fuming.
Maybe he’s sexually frustrated. All it needs is I need to work on a poor guy. Poor guy is so frustrated—a no man island himself, like Oliver Quick.
You could tell. So you chimed in.
“What’s the square root of 69”
Both boys turned to look at you.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Oliver inquired, perplexed.
“Oh, just a curious person asking him a question,” you said, jerking your head towards the blond and cutely frustrated boy.
“8.30662386292,” is all the blond uttered.
Your lips tugged into a smirk, and left.
Interesting, now I have a new kink to look forward to for my next kinky session.
***
It’s quite luxurious for a library—grand yet old like wines in the cellar. You studied Political Science and Art, and while you studied and sometimes drawing, but a certain snack bar caught your eye; it was placed above your drawing.
“I got you a crunchie,” a voice said. You turned and saw Michael Gavey.
“Oh, um, thanks?”
“I have never seen you before,” he noted.
“Really? So do I.”
“As a matter of fact, you have disrupted us during our friendly conversation.”
Oliver Quick was anything but friendly and comfortable.
“Okay and?”
He quirked a brow. “Your attitude is unusual.”
“Well, where I came from, it’s not really an issue. I’m a straight forward kind of gal,” you explained.
Michael hummed, staring at you.
“Pardon my rudeness. I’m Michael Gavey.�� His hand stretched out. “I never get your name.
“I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” You offered a handshake in return.
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from America.”
“Ah, yes. The land of freedom,” he commented, trying to make you laugh.
You laughed awkwardly. You have never smiled or laughed before—in a non-superficial way. You laughed and smiled during as a cam girl, but other than that, you never smile genuinely.
Somehow it caught his eye. His glasses beamed that you could see the color of his hues.
“An awkward foreign girl.”
“Yeah, so? I’m not really a people-person.”
“Why did you come here, then? For a good fuck?”
Ghastly, you turned around to see if anyone catches his words, but nobody pays attention.
“Are you going to the party?”
“What party?”
“The party Felix and his friends are heading tonight.”
“Who the hell is Felix?”
Michael darted his eyes behind you, and followed the sign; Felix and Farleigh sat at the back between the shelves.
“Apparently, he’s hosting a party tonight. NFI, me and you. Not Fucking Invited.”
“Well, I don’t a fuck about parties that much.”
Michael tsked. “That’s a very strong language.”
“Says the guy who says NFI. Besides, I don’t like parties,” you said, and it wasn’t a half lie. You have an upcoming camgirl session tonight.
“A shame,” Michael said, then reaching for the crunchie.
You have never tried snacks from another culture.
“Is it good?” you asked him.
He ripped the snack bar open, and gave you a piece. “Try it and see for yourself.”
And you did.
It was worth it.
Nevermind how Michael watched you in fascination.
***
The roofs and walls of University has been but a sham; it was real quiet.
Too quiet.
You hated quiet rooms.
In your next session, your fingers swirled your swollen clit, thinking of Michael Gavey’s rosy lips and tongue licking and nibbling your wet cunt and a tight hole.
You never fucked anybody, but you wanted your first time to be special. You rode on a dildo, trying not to moan so loud, but you come down high. The faster you moved, the more erotic images of a nerdy Michael seeping into you.
This is my kind of party.
***
Somewhere, in a darkened room, Michael Gavey’s hand filled with cum, and his other hand pressed the send button on his computer screen.
It was sensational to see.
You.
Who would’ve thought he met you—a famous camgirl.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes twinkled when you ate crunchie for the first time—far from the horniness and snobbish act you put up in public. It was a delight to see . With your outstanding getup and attitude, he knew that he’s in a right place.
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#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#x reader#reader insert#reader#fem reader#female reader#saltburn#ewan mitchell#smut#writers of tumblr#writer#ao3#ao3 writer#writerblr#writers#blogger#blog#angst#michael gavey x you#michael gavey smut#ewan nation#saltburn fanfiction#fluff#my wrtitng#ewanverse#tumblr#write
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Fanfiction Recommendations (pt 3)
Happy Marriage
Most Noble
The Wristwatch
Hanaki
@mochie85 @aesonmae @november-rayne @peacefulpianist @littlejuicebox @lokisgoodgirl @lokisbirdofhermes @lokisprettygirl @eleniblue @lokibug @acidcasualties @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @liminalpebble @skymoonandstardust @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @gigglingtiggerv2 @smolvenger @five-miles-over @lokischambermaid @wheredafandomat @holdmytesseract @jiyascepter @kneelingtoloki-blog @kneelingformyloki @villainousshakespeare
#repost#reply#loki#loki friggason#bickering couple#angst with happy ending#ignoring canon#loki marvel#loki x oc#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#nanami x reader#ewan nation#michael gavey smut#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey#michael gavey x you#loki god of mischief#loki series#loki fic#loki laufeyson x reader#loki oneshot#loki x f!reader#loki x female reader#loki x reader#astarion ancunin#astarion romance#astarion x female reader#astarion x y/n
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'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)
a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!
Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.
Words: 4490
Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)
You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.
The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.
“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.
“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.
“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.
You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.
“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.
“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.
“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.
“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.
You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.
“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened.
“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.
“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.
Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.
Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”
“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.
Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.
“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.
You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.
One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.
“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”
“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.
That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.
But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.
He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.
You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.
Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.
“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”
Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”
“You were?” Silly old me?
“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.
“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.
“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.
“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.
Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”
He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.
“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.
“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”
“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”
“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.
“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.
9:15 AM.
You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.
As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.
“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.
“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.
“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.
“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.
Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.
Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.
You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”
“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.
However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.
Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”
“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.
“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”
Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.
“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.
He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.
“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.
Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”
You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.
You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.
3:40 PM.
You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.
You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.
“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.
You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.
“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.
Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”
“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.
“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.
Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.
He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”
You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.
“No. You’re just wasting my time.”
“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.
“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”
You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.
“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”
Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”
There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.
Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.
You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.
You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”
“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.
“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”
Michael gulps. “W-what?”
“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.
Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.
“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.
“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.
“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.
“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.
You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.
The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.
His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?
You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.
“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.
“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.
Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.
“Did-did I hurt you?”
“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.
He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.
“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.
“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”
“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”
“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”
You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.
let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻
#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey smut#michael gavey x you#michael gavey fic#saltburn fanfiction#saltburn#saltburn movie#ewanverse#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell smut#ewan mitchell fic#mydemimondewrites
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SILENT LOVE
paring(s): felix catton x shy!black!reader
summary: felix has taken a liking to the “invisible” girl but she’s not invisible to him
warning(s): mdni, oral (female receive), angst, smut, kissing, dirty words, breast play.
the first time he saw you? you were in a local coffee shop he loved to go to, studying with michael gavey who was you only friend at the time. he could remember that you were sitting there, skirt in the middle of your thighs and your braids pulled up in a ponytail. that day you and micheal were going over statistics and micheal had said, “oh look, one of the popular imbeciles.” and you had look up and saw him and connected eyes with him.
all that was going through his mind at that moment is that how is it that he never seen you before? how could he let someone like you slip his mind if he did?
all it took was a cough from michael to pull you back to reality. “don’t get caught up, lovie. people like us are just toys to him.” you took what micheal said that day to heart and shook any thoughts about him away. meanwhile, felix kept you in his mind but he tried not to, especially when his sees you everywhere he goes. felix had made a promise to himself that when he sees you again he’ll gather the courage to ask you out but instantly baled when he saw you at the library.
you looked beautiful. your braids were laid over your shoulder, he eyes traveled down. you had on a shirt that your roommate made you wear, claiming you dress like a nun. it showed your cleavage, making felix bite his lip. you had every intention on forgetting about felix but you had to lock eyes again at the library, he quickly looked away, muttering a “shit” to himself. your heart pounded as you begin to feel what you felt that day at the cafe. you knew you couldn’t study, knowing that he’s near you, so you gathered you things and began to stand from you chair when you hit something hard.
you looked up and it was him. felix. “y/n right?” he begins to say but all you hear is people like us are just toys to him. your didn’t reply back, you just grabbed you bag and continued to walk. felix felt stupid nonetheless, thinking he probably scared you or worse humiliated you. that night in your dorm these images were going through your mind, from his eyebrow piercing to his pink lips, just the thought made your stomach flutter or maybe something else flutter.
same for felix, in his dorm. he thought about the way your skirt would flow in the wind, lifting a little bit to reveal a part of your panties and how your brown skin glowed in the sun. he groaned at the thought of you, trailing his hand down his pants and…
bam. reality hits you as your alarm blares in your room. you look over to see your bonnet in another country, if that wasn’t enough you had a test that day as well, could this day get any worse?
yes. there he was again. he was in the same pub, michael wanted to meet up at. you see him laugh and have a smoke with his friends through the window. you decided to take a deep breath and just walk in. once you did, the door bell rang showing that someone has walked through the pub but thankfully felix hadn’t look up to see who it was. “over here, lovie.” the voice belonged to michael. you walked over to and sat next to him. the table that felix was at a open booth that was behind michael.
“do you think we can choose another table, micheal?” you asked, leg bouncing in nervousness. “no sorry, lovie. everything is taken.” michael says, you frowned but stood your ground. “give me a sum.” michael nodded.
you watch felix’s head flys back, in laughter as farleigh says something in his ear. “um 597 times 300?” you didn’t pay attention to michael’s answer, you just paid attention to the boy. “come on. give me another.” you told him another sum while watching some blond rub against him. felix looks over at her and gives her a fake smile. a part of you wanted him to see you and the other part just wanted him to run to you and kiss you.
you huffed and decided that it was time to go. “I’m gonna head out.” you hummed to micheal, he rolled his eyes and nodded. felix look up for a second, noticing a girl with braids get up and walk towards the door with her coat left in the seat, he instantly knew it was you. “excuse me farleigh, I have to do something right quick.” he says before quickly scooting out the booth and over the table you and micheal were sitting. “michael gavey? right?” michael looked up at felix with an emotionless expression. noticing his expression felix cleared his throat and talked again.
“uhm y/n left her coat and I think it would be nice to give it to her.” michael huffed. “just don’t break her heart.” micheal gave him a serious look. felix nodded and took the coat and ran out the pub.
“y/n!” you turned around, thinking it was michael. but it was him and he knew your name. he had your coat in his hand, you didn’t even notice you left it. “you left this.” he stomach started to feel queasy as your hand brushed against his while grabbing your coat. “thank you, I didn’t even notice.” he smiled, looking down at your lips then you eyes.
“I’m felix.” he chirped. “i know.” you nodded.
“actually I have something to tell you.” he says, taking another step towards you. you looked up at him with those eyes that made his heart warm. “I’m in love with you.”
your breath hitch a bit. you wanted to believe him but back away from him. “Is this a prank or something?” he frowned at your question. you rolled your eyes tears filled your eyes but you sniffed them away. what upset you was that fact that even though he was pulling a prank you would still want him.
“no this isn’t a prank, you really think I’m that types of person?” felix says. “people like you pick on people like me, felix!” even though you were kind of angry he would give anything to hear you say his name again.
“what do you mean people like you?” felix questioned, getting a little mad that someone has picked on you before. “forget it.” you sighed, turned around to walk away but he grabs your arm and turns you around. you looked at him shocked but was even more shocked at what he did next. he closed the gap between you two, grabbing your waist to pull you in. your body tenses up but slowly relaxed as you run your fingers through his hair.
his hands traveled to you ass, squeezing it from underneath your skirt to earn a moan from you. as his lips traveled to you neck you couldn’t believe what was happening. “wait wait.” you whined, feeling his lips on your collarbone. “I don’t understand, why me.”
“Why not you? I’ve loved you ever since that day in the cafe.” he confessed with hands still on your waist. “me too.” you nodded, smiling up at him. felix grabbed your neck and kissed you again, you moaned at the feeling of his hands on you, it’s so much better than your imagination.
“wait we can’t do this here.” you put your hand on his chest, feeling his toned chest. “you’re right.” felix then took your hand in his but you wanted to ask about his friends but didn’t care, you wanted him. he took you to his dorm and neither you nor felix felt like it was real but it was. “this is forward but I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.” your heart pounded in your chest at what he said. felix took your hand and lead you to his bed and sat down with you standing in front of him.
some how you were bold enough to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck. “fuck you’re beautiful.” he groaned before kissing you again. his hand rested at your hips, underneath your skirt. “show me how much you love me.” he whispered into your mouth. you then pushed his chest down to lean down and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, trailing his hand to you ass with a smack to get a reaction that he was pleased with.
soon enough, you couldn’t take the foreplay and started taking your shirt off. felix watched you yank your shirt off on his lap, leaving you in a lace bra. the color of the bra matched your skin tone really well and made you look like a angel in his eyes. “you don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.” felix says even though he would love to see your tits. “no it’s fine.” you then unclipped the back of the bra, letting it fall revealing your chest to him. he couldn’t help but to touch them, taking your nipples in between his fingers. “felix please.” he instantly flipped you on your back and started to take your other clothes off, leaving you bare.
you rushed to get his clothes off as well, until he was completely bare. “spread your legs for me, love.” while you spread your legs you took a peek at his cock, it was bigger than you imagined. “pretty pussy.” he muttered. he stared at the dark brown lips along with the pink cunt. “thank you.” you mumbled, shyly.
he started to rub your clit with his thumb earning a moan from you. “feels good?” you bit your lip and nodded as he continued to rub you. he licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. your breath hitch when his tongue made the perfect rhythm. your hand tugged on his brown locks. he groaned at the pain, swirling his tongue around your clit, making you feel like fireworks on the forth of july.
“felix.” you cried out as your body prepares for a release. “m’gonna-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence as your body finally came to a release, making you whine.
“fuck me, felix.”
with that being said, felix climbs on top of you, starting to postion his cock to your cunt before giving in a powerful thrust with a growl. without a warning he started to pound into your pussy. “fuck felix!” feeling a coil build up in your stomach.
he palmed tour brown tits as he speeds up his thrust. “feel good, love?” he asked while watching you face full up with pleasure. the look on his face alone would make you cum, his eyebrows were clenched while he bit his lip in pure ecstasy.
“I-” he starts, not knowing if he should finish his sentence. “I -shit- I love you.” he whimpers as wave of pleasure hit him. what he said almost made you cum as your toes curl when your close to your end. “I love you to.” you mewled, digging your nails in his back.
it took a couple of more thrusts for you and felix to cum, grunting and moan as the wave hits. felix flipped on the bed, pulling you on his chest. you drew invisible circles on his stomach has he plays with you braids, in between his fingers.
felix breaks the silence. “will you come to saltburn with me?” felix asked, hoping you would say yes. “yes.” you muttered, softly with a smile. felix then wondered what would happen if he never gave you your coat or let you walk away. definitely not this.
#black!reader#woc#fanfic#saltburn#saltburn x reader#saltburn x black!reader#felix catton x black!reader#felix catton#felix catton x reader
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just please teach me
michael gavey x bimbo!reader
authors note - i can’t resist this man…..he’s so nerdy and hot. also meant for female!reader
warnings - dumbification, kinda mean michael, a little praise, degradation, perv!michael, the word slut, breeding kink, accidental breeding?
god michael couldn’t wait for this.
it was your first tutoring session with him. after your failed your first math test of the semester, you decided to get some help from the smartest man you knew, who also happened to sit next to you.
“hey, you’re like super smart right?”
you asked him, peeking over at the 100% on his test. he turned his head, internally surprised you were even talking to him.
“uh, yeah. yeah i am. do you need help?”
you nodded, pouting and practically shoving your test in his face.
“i can’t even believe it! i got a 53% on this test, it was like, super hard!”
you complained, crossing your arms; which just so happened to push up your breasts. they looked so good in that tight tank top you were wearing.
“you’re asking me to tutor you?”
you scoffed out of frustration.
“duh! i don’t wanna fail!”
he was going to be your tutor. it sounded like music to his ears. michael gavey was going to be personally teaching the cutest girl he knew.
and annoying.
you yourself weren’t annoying, but the fact that someone like you, who probably didn’t even know which direction an x axis pointed, could get into oxford university. probably on a huge helping of daddy’s money is what he thought. unlike him, who actually earned his place. nonetheless, he would tutor you.
he could have some fun with that.
he saw this situation in porn all the time. dumb schoolgirl goes to someone like himself to get help, and they end up fucking like rabbits. he didn’t have any experience with women in person, but he figured porn was close enough to the real thing, right?
he wondered how sweet your voice would sound begging for him.
“sooooo, does my place sound good? i have such a cute setup it’s like, unbelievable! and im free around 6 tonight.”
“yeah, of course. i guess ill be over then..!”
he knocked on your door, trying to stop his hands from shaking. he adjusted his glasses, waiting for you to open the door.
“mikey! you’re here!”
you opened the door and hugged him. he tried not to audibly moan from the sensation of your boobs pushing against him.
“just michael is fine!”
he blurted out, nervous that you were this close to him. would he even be able to survive this night?
“i dont have any extra chairs, so we can just study on my bed! how’s that?”
you asked, walking in your dorm and sitting on your bed.
he wouldn’t be able to survive. you said that so innocently, as if you didn’t understand what two people could do on a bed. as he walked over to your bed, he didn’t expect anything different. it was adorned with pink pillows and a huge fuzzy pink blanket. it was so you.
“the thing I wasn’t really understanding was number seven. i don’t even know where to start!”
he nodded, grabbing his supplies out of his bag. how could she not understand this one? it was the easiest by far. nonetheless, he explained it in the most basic way he could. you nodded, pretending to understand.
“okay, now you try.”
you smiled dumbly, attempting to try it on your own. you stopped shortly thereafter, flipping the pencil in your hand.
“i just don’t get it michael! maybe math just isn’t for me..”
you leaned in closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. you felt defeated. defeated by some numbers on a page. he sighed in annoyance. he did like this feeling, but he didn’t like your dumb little brain. maybe he could take advantage of that. he only dreamed of that, though. tricking you into pleasing him. giving you a ‘reward’ for finally get 100% on your tests. you’d probably love that too.
“ill probably drop math. its too hard! i dont know how you do it. you’re so smart michael.”
“well you’re not even trying are you? you just have to think, y/n!”
“i am so trying!”
you loosely hugged michael. he could feel himself starting to get hard. why’d you have to be so handsy with him?
“thanks for helping me though! you’re so smart michael.”
he felt himself twitch in his pants. he couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t take the teasing anymore.
you felt his lips press against your own soft, glossed lips. he pulled away quickly, already preparing for the worst. you would push him off your bed, throw his bag at him and yell at him to leave. instead, you grabbed his sleeve.
“please don’t leave mikey.”
how could he refuse you?
he moved closer to you, going in for another kiss. you were an aphrodisiac. so irresistible. made for him to fuck.
you shook your head, kissing all over his face.
“it’s totally fine, please just stay here.”
he gently pushed you down onto the bed, kissing and sucking on your neck. fuck, you were so nice. your skin was so soft and plush, and your voice sent him into a spiral.
“is this your first time mikey?”
“y-yeah. i know you probably think that’s pathetic or weird or-“
“mikey. please just fuck me. i don’t care.”
those were the sweetest words he ever heard. he could cum right then and there.
“god, fuck, can i ask you something?”
he asked.
“are you on birth control?”
you shook your head. fuck, for some reason that was even hotter.
“ill pull out, don’t worry.”
you nodded, noticeably absentminded. you were so dumb, and it was so cute to him. he was known around campus for his smarts and talent in math. and now he had, which was quite possibly, the dumbest girl at his university under his thumb. it felt so good.
“i trust you mikey.”
he smirked as he pressed continuous kisses into your neck and chest, experimentally pushing his hands underneath your cute tank top and groping your breasts. you whined underneath him, taking your top and yanking it over your head to expose your chest.
“you’re so cute. just let me take care of you, okay?”
he licked and sucked on your chest, trailing his way down your body until he got to your little cute shorts. god this boy was a freak. you helped him get your shorts off of you, exposing your bare cunt to him. you squeezed your legs together, a feeble attempt in covering yourself.
“why be shy now? you already teased me for half the semester.”
you nodded at his remark, leaning your head back. he teased, kissing up your thighs. michael’s smirk was criminal as he placed a gentle kiss on your pussy. you bucked your hips and moaned on him. he gently prodded your entrance with his long fingers, slowly inserting two of them inside you. he chuckled as he moved his fingers in and out.
“mikey i-“
“you’re what? wet as a bloody fountain? because you are.”
you let out a pornstar-esque moan and feebly grabbed in his direction. you needed him inside you.
“mikey please just fuck me! please!”
you shouted out, rocking your hips into his fingers gently. he grinned and stood up to take off his pants, as well as unzipping his coat.
“i don’t get it.”
you said bluntly, looking up at him.
“what?”
“your shirt. I don’t get it.”
you pointed to his shirt.
‘not all math puns are awful. just sum.’
you shared a moment of brief awkwardness.
“it’s like how the result of an addition-“
“i didn’t ask for more math! just come over here michael!”
he quickly nodded and took off his stupid shirt, leaving it on the floor next to the bed. he climbed over you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.
“are you sure?”
“please just do it already mikey!”
you whined. he always knew you were bratty. he would love to put you in your place though. he slid himself into you, gasping at the warmth and tightness of your pussy. he slowly slid all the way in, swearing under his breath as he did. you were definitely made for him. so warm, so soft, so perfect. he placed a hand on your lower stomach, feeling himself inside you.
“you’re so warm holy fuck, I can’t believe im inside you right now.”
he blurted out, slowly starting to move. michael was definitely a little above average. so goes the trope of nerdy white guys. the largeness of him made you feel so full, so stuffed. you couldn’t handle it already. tears pricked at your eyes as you slung your legs onto his shoulders. michael wasted no time fucking himself into you, letting out all sorts of lewd noises.
“can’t believe im the one doing this. always thought you’d be with someone like felix, fuck.”
he grabbed at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. another loud, indecent moan was let out of you.
“im the one fucking you, no one else gets to have this dumb little cunt.”
he tilted his head up, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“im all yours mikey, please just keep fucking me!”
you cried, grabbing onto his hands on your hips. he grabbed your right hand with his left, pressing it right next to your head. his face was right next to yours as well now.
“nothing in that stupid head, huh? nothin’ but me fucking you right now. i always knew you were so simple.”
you clenched around him, leaving him to chuckle under his breath.
“you like that? me calling you dumb? knew you were a slut.”
michael’s smartass attitude definitely never left him. you shook your head unconvincingly. you did like it, but being a brat was so fun.
“i know you like it. you already feel like you’re gonna cum on me. poor little thing. probably forget everything you learned this semester just from this.”
he said with fake sympathy. it was true, you were close. you could feel his thrusts getting more erratic and needy, so you knew he was too. you just remembered you were supposed to have a math lesson today. oh well. you could always just google the answers.
“I don’t think im gonna be able to pull out, you’re so fucking warm and tight I can’t-“
you immediately came to your senses. you were admittedly dumb, but not dumb enough to let michael cum in you.
“michael please pull out-“
“i- fuck!”
he abruptly came inside you, his jaw slack as he aggressively rammed his hips into yours a few more times. the sensation of his filling you up was too much, and your orgasm shortly followed. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.
“im so sorry y/n, you just-“
“ill figure it out mikey, just hold me.”
and he did. he laid on his side as he traced his thumb on your belly. you fell asleep soon thereafter, together.
#fanfic#fanfiction#saltburn#saltburn x reader#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#saltburn smut#michael gavey smut#ewan mitchell
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Brains & Barbie!
PAIRING: Michael Gavey x fem!BIMBO!Reader
WORDS: 1,515.
SUMMARY: Polar opposites attract right? It’s science. Who knew you would fall so helplessly in love with the math geek of the century…
WARNINGS: female receiving (fingering), swearing, degradation kink, some praise kink, edging, cum play, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.
A/N - it has been a hot minute since I wrote for an Ewan character, so forgive me I’m a little rusty.
this fic is dedicated to my soul sister @sahvlren as it was her bday recently, and she requested this specifically. I love you so very much, and am so thankful to have you as my dearest friend, boo. one day we shall meet, but for now we get freaky online! enjoy xoxox
+++ in light of the recent drama unfolding in this hellsite, I thought some good ole' smut would do no harm, right?
forgive me I shall edit this properly, but I must sleep for my night shift lol
You weren't exactly the perfect pair to exist, nor would any like minded person think it best to put you two together in a roo, let alone become intimate. And yet, so effortlessly you both meshed rather well...Michael, your "Norman No Mates" boyfriend [as he enjoyed putting it], was quite a mathematical genius. His family were somewhat stable and well off, however, he rejoiced in the idea that he worked his way into the academy, where as your situation was quite the opposite. Your father had attended Oxford and graduated, as did your grandfather, who also sponsored and funded many of its restorations and renovations. The ancient establishment owed many of its complexes to your family name, and hence, granted you a position in their literature field, warranted you did try to maintain your grades above a credit average, trimming it with a pass even...
You had tipsily stumbled upon Michael at some college party: he stood by some dark corner, a drink in hand and the other in his pocket, before you had ignorantly walked into him, mindless to your surroundings from intoxication. You had either gone to refill your drink or was seeking the bathroom [you struggle to remember the fine details of the night you had met], laughing obnoxiously at some joke your friend had uttered, before walking into the man that would ultimately make you weak in your knees.
"S-Sorry-" You softly slurred, spilling your drink on the floor, a droplet landing on your heel.
At first it sounded as though an apparent swear seemingly seethed between his curved lips, halting himself before cursing you further, as he adjusted his thin framed spectacles, marvelling at you.
"Y-You alright, love?"
The next thing you knew, you found yourself hot and heavy, heated bodies, grinding against one another, as Michael teased and etched his impressively long cock, at your silky folds. His mouth latched to your unmissable cleavage, as he suckled on your breasts like a new born babe to its mother's teat.
No man had ever made you feel more desired, and yet a fool at his beck and call. He uttered despicable taunts and jabs at you, whilst simultaneously, worshipping the ground you strut on.
"The sluttiest girl on campus just couldn't resist the cock of a geek, huh? Making her even more stupid than she is, look at you... Pathetic baby."
His words stung a compelling sensation, and yet you craved for more of his undivided attention. And seemingly, Michael granted you every fathomable bit he could muster. You were the girl beyond his dreams, needless to say, he never thought he even stood a chance with any girl, of that matter. And he as a man, beyond your tastes. However, the tension was palpable between you two, the chemistry undeniable.
You often found yourself unwittingly seeking his company, even risking your privilege in the confines of his dorm...
"How long left, Mikey. I'm s'bored!" You whinge, as you fidget and reposition yourself sprawled on your boyfriend's single-sized bed. Flinging your flip phone to the side, without a care for consequences [your parents would simply purchase a new one for you]. Despite being in somewhat sheerly covered attire, your ass cheeks just peaking through beneath your skirt, Michael barely felt the temptation to see [if he was even aware of your current outfit].
"Wait. Need to finish this equation."
His stern, unwavering voice and unfazed focus ontp the paper and textbooks before him, made your eyes roll with such annoyance, defeatedly sighing. The repetitive sound of his pencil thudding at his head, and your rhythmical humming, filled the silent void.
"Ugh- Michael, you should have just told me to not come- There was a party, I could have been at—"
"Do you not have an essay due by the end of the week?"
You contemplate for a few, solid seconds, before realising there was truth to his words. You did have an assignment due in the imminent days to come, and you had yet to begin.
"W-Well, yes... But I was hoping you would help me, handsome."
"Is that so?"
His attention still remained down, fixated on the text before him, yet his tone elevated, intrigue plaguing his words.
"I-I mean I'll still write it out, y-you just need to guide me—”
Swiftly he swivelled his entire body in the desk-top chair to turn unto you, a cheeky grin plastered across his chiselled face.
"Baby, you can barely do your times-tables, you think you can write an whole essay? Adorable..."
"But I sure know how to fuck you good. What man of your calibre can have a girl like me, say that to a man like you, huh?"
A darkness tinged in his piercing blue orbs, intently watching your every move and gesture, as he notices your hand hovering between your thighs, before disappearing beneath the short, skimpy skirt.
"Mhmm—"
Your thoughtless moans began to echo between the confined blank walls of the dorm, squirming against the neatly folded fabrics of the bed.
"And what do you think you're doing, exactly?"
Two digits continued to delve deeper between your folds, drawing slow, circular motions as your thumb remained rubbing at your clit. You had been biting your lips, only to release a moan, as you intended to respond obediently.
"M-My boyfriend's a bore, s-so I'm t-taking matters into m-my own h-hands—"
"Is that so?"
Without so much as a warning, a force pried your hands out from beneath your walls, your wetness coating your fingers and knuckles, glistening in the dim light. Within a few seconds, the emptiness between your legs vanished, as a rougher, more sizeable host embedded itself between your velvet folds.
With roughness, and vastly more pace, Michael's lengthy, slim digits began to etch deeper and deeper inside of you, pumping his fist in and out of you, as his other hand laid to rest against the mattress, propping him upright. Your hands immediately laid at your sides, firmly clenching the quilt between for some steadiness.
"Does my little slut have no patience? Brain to numb to think, she just wants to be fucked all the time, huh?"
"Y-Yes—"
Just as your ecstatic cries and moans grew more frequent, Michael's breathing sounded heavier, feeling your warm wetness making a mess all along his hands and the crevices of your entrance.
"This slut could've bent over to anyone. No-No, but she did for me, yeah? So needy for cock, she didn't even learn her times tables, huh?"
"I-I need you, M-Mikey—"
A third long digit shoved itself deeper into your tight hole, panting beneath your grip as you felt yourself fervently clench around him.
"That's right, princess. You need me. No man is worthy of this pretty cunt of yours, I earned it."
As you felt yourself progressively lose all your senses. gaining traction to the heat stirring below, Michael's sudden release felt cathartic. Watching him lick and lap every inch of your wetness lingering over his hand, made you feel delectable. Your lustful eyes searched below, for a fleeting second, you caught the growing commotion in his pants, as the bulge was evident, its shadow against the restricted fabric. As he tasted the last drop, a snarky smirk expanded across his handsome face, before beginning to unbelt and unbutton his beige trousers.
"C'mon princess, spread those legs like you always do, like you were born to do. Such a fucking whore, that's all you were meant for. Meant for me."
Aligning himself so effortlessly perfect against your, his reddened tip blushed against your sight, teasing your silky folds. His veins throbbed with excitement, almost palpable between your sensitive entrance, its length girth suddenly plunging itself ever so slowly inside of you.
With a first, rough shove, delving himself completely inside of you, his balls hitting at your rear, an escape of a low grunt vibrated against his lips, that remained hovering over your soft skin. Michael kept himself steadily propped atop of you: with each thrust, equally time and paced, his weight began to drop over you, applying the pressure down from above with his cock inside of you.
"The most perfect cunt, for the most perfect girl. And it's mine."
"M-Michael—"
"S-Stastically we a-are an anomaly, b-but my princess f-found me, like a good girl—”
“A-Anomaly?"
A deep, growling chuckle escaped his lips, his pace growing sloppier as he attempted to articulate: despite Michael having you weak in the knees in bed, he was still somewhat new at the act of sex. Struggling to juggle with the need to fuck and the need to explain, his lean, tall figure cowering over you, his eyes shut with ecstasy momentarily, before opening to glare and marvel at you breathlessly. Your lips latched onto his neck and collarbones in between your moans, intently sucking at his tender flesh, desperate to taste him, to leave remnants of your physical love, strewed across his body. Desperate to savour every inch of him.
"An odd couple, baby. B-But you take me so fucking well—"
"Mhmm—"
"There's no going back now, Princess..."
credit for divider - @/prettypixels-love
#michael gavey#ewan mitchell#michael gavey smut#michael gavey imagine#michael gavey imagines#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey fanfiction#saltburn#michael gavey x fem!reader#Michael Gavey x bimbo!reader#michael gavey x y/n
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Carpe Diem | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
Summary: After himself being ditched by Oliver, they meet once again. Both seemingly skirting around what happened in the Common Room when they last saw one another. | Word Count: 5.1k~ (oops) | Warnings below the cut!
Part One: Quid Pro Quo
Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici
warnings: virgin michael, oral sex (f receiving), fingering
A/N: I feel...like the word count is overboard but FUCK IT it's my blog 😈
“Greek and Latin both belong to the Indo-European language family, which does not necessarily mean they are similar. The branches are totally different. Whereas Latin belongs to the Romance branch, Greek belongs to the…”
She half-listens to the lecture, caught between Professor Wardon’s monotone ramblings and scribbling whatever bits and pieces she can string together in swirly handwriting, trying to ignore Trevor two rows in front of her, typing loudly on his brand new Macbook that he no doubt got from his well-off parents for Christmas.
Pencil and paper for the peasants, she thinks bitterly.
The laptop she has back in her dorm is clunky, too thick for carrying in her bag, and any notes she makes now will have to be typed up meticulously later. She supposes it’s a good way of getting the information to be irreparably printed into her brain though. That’s the only thing keeping her from going insane.
Which is where she finds herself now, in the wee hours of the morning, her fingers so tired and eyes so strained she feels that all the letters and characters are beginning to merge together.
She's just about to close the damn thing when a notification blares in the bottom right corner of her screen.
‘m_gav_314159265359 is now online’
She presses her lips together to stifle a laugh at the username, it makes her giggle every time. Of course his username is fucking Pi.
After their little ‘happening’ in the Common Room, they'd talked for a bit over MSN, sometimes texting when she had enough credit and even more rarely meeting up at Trinity College campus. Their timetables never seemed to line up very often, so their meetings were quick and over before they could even get settled into really getting to know each other.
It felt strange to have done something so exciting and yet not really know someone.
The memory made her blush. She was never usually that impulsive and brazen. But she didn't regret it.
Everytime Michael saw her, his cheeks flushed almost without her even needing to try. And it felt nice to see someone act like that in her presence.
After lectures had started after Christmas into the New Year and then into Spring, she found herself somewhat self-conscious. Second guessing herself. Wondering if the freedom and calmness of the holiday period had given him a new sense of clarity.
After all, he'd not spoken to her once since lectures had started again.
A heaviness weighed in her chest, bitterly like rejection.
Maybe she was delirious from the time of night, but she felt a surge of courage, desperately wanting to just know if this was going to be more or not.
She felt her cheeks heat somewhat, rubbing the backs of her knuckles against her lips. There was no time to reply before he sent another.
And if what he'd said before didn't make her face burn, that certainly did. She nearly smirked when she thought to herself, 'you mean when I sucked you off in the Common Room?'
But she didn't type that. She decided to have mercy on him, if only a little.
His replies were so blunt and to the point that they were so quintessentially Michael. She found herself wondering if what he'd typed before had been for the intention of making her blush, but she doubted it. He seemed the type to be somewhat oblivious to how words could affect the opposite sex.
Or anything to do with the opposite sex for that matter.
Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she typed off a few quick goodbyes and with a soft, plastic tap, shut her laptop for the night.
“There are no fit guys in my class this semester, fucking livid,” Priya rolls her eyes, nursing a stale pint and a cigarette.
“Did you really expect Modern Languages to be teeming with attractive men?” She smirks in response.
“No. But I at least expected a good shag within the first three months.”
“Does they have to be within our course?”
“No, course not. I'm not lazy as fuck. Can’t be arsed to go off campus.”
She laughs, waving the smoke trail that's formed between their faces, the smell of cigarettes and damp, beer-soaked carpets fill her senses, nursing the only pint she's capable of downing.
“Don't shit where you eat, Priya.”
“Don't you fuckin’ start,” she grins with all her perfect teeth before checking her phone, “fuck, is that the time. Sorry mate you've got like half your pint left-”
“Don't be silly, just go. Whoever you're meeting is bound to have a bigger cock than me anyway.”
“You're a nasty bitch, you know that?” she smiles, standing and pulling her mini-skirt down, “see you later? Catch up?”
“Wouldn't miss it for the world. Have fun!”
“Oh I will!”
She smiles, sipping the stale beer as Priya rushes out the door excitedly tapping the keypads on her phone in reply to a guy no-doubt, nearly running right into a lamppost.
She pulled out her own phone, spotting a new message from the ex-boyfriend she hadn’t heard a peep out of since Freshers Week, groaning with a displeased expression at the first few lines of text that read as if he were desperate. Even over the crackling sound of the speakers and Daniel Powter’s ‘Bad Day’ lulling quietly through the pub, she was still sensitive to the sound of his voice.
“-get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.”
She had to crane her neck, half-swivelled on her chair, but it was undoubtedly him. Only one person had that hissy, direct way of speaking, had dirty, blonde hair that touched the nape of his neck and was likely to wear such an…interesting selection of clothes.
Her mouth was barely open before she realised it was Michael, and by then he was too far away to shout from across a busy pub. She found herself with a sort of stupid grin, watching him walk with such a lanky gait, as if walking were an inhuman thing for him to do.
It took her a few moments to text back a reply to her ex before she looked up again, eyebrows furrowed when she saw that whoever Michael had been with, was now umming and ahhing about whether to join the popular lot, for which she recognised Felix Catton amongst them, shockingly ill-dressed in a ‘what happens in Kassiopi stays in Kassiopi’ t-shirt, with a cigarette between his lips that had been inhaled to a nub.
She grimaced. Only rich people could dress so fucking shocking.
And then her heart leapt in a different way when she saw Michael look distantly at Oliver, his hand half-raised in an awkward wave, his face crumbling in a way where she knew he was disappointed and yet, not surprised in the slightest.
It was when Michael pushed his glasses up his nose in a way she couldn’t help but find sweet and go for the door, that she slipped from the stool she was on, a quarter of her pint left, and took off after him.
“Michael!”
The late winter air nipped at her skin, cursing internally that his legs were so fucking long he could stride a hell of a lot further than her.
“Michael!”
It wasn’t hard to see the glint of his glasses lenses off the streetlights once he’d turned to face her, his lips parted in surprise and a heat rising to his cheeks.
He swallowed visibly, “H-hey..”
She felt her own heart rattle in her chest at how easy it was to fluster him, “Hey, you alright?”
For a moment, the self-proclaimed mathematical genius seemed genuinely lost for words, his throat closing up on him like he was having a sort of allergic reaction to the opposite sex. So with all that, he simply nodded, his hands clenched as if not knowing what to do with them.
“Sorry about your mate, that was a shitty thing to do.”
“Oh, he’s…he’s not my mate.”
She nodded, rubbing her hands together to warm them from the chill, “d’you wanna go somewhere?”
Michael’s eyes behind his glasses widened, “like…together?”
“No, I’ll make you go off on your own,” she grinned, “yes together!”
He huffed an embarrassed but elated laugh, and only now her eyes studied his shirt, cocking her head in amusement at the ‘that’s how I roll’ shirt with what looked like a maths equation beneath it. The actual meaning was lost on her, but it was so dorky it made her smile.
“U-uh, my mum bought it me for Christmas...” he muttered quickly to which she cracked an even bigger smile, the two of them laughing quietly for a moment before he spoke up again.
“Do you wanna come to mine?” he asked, and it was so direct it made her blink, her lungs feeling as if they were fluttering, “I mean-my dorm.”
She wet her lips from the dry cold, watching how nervous and twitchy he was. And how it reminded her of the last time they were alone together.
“Like…catch up or something. I-I’ve got alcohol if you-”
“That’d be lovely, Michael.”
He at least seemed grateful that she’d actually replied to save him from rambling, and even cracked a thin-lipped smile himself, clearly and delightfully nervous. Thirty-minutes ago, he’d have never considered this to be the ending to his evening.
Michael’s room is disturbingly tidy, she wonders if he actually even lives here. It’s like those university rooms that they take photos of to advertise the ‘spacious’ and ‘community-driven’ atmosphere of campus life.
At least it was clean, she mused as Michael passed her a bottle of the only alcohol he had, which were lukewarm WKDs.
“Thanks,” she smiles, taking a sugary sip and looking about the room. Michael has since cracked open his own drink, but seems disinterested in it as it rests on his bouncing knee, looking up at her from where he’s sat on his desk chair from under his brow.
His laptop sits shut, pencils in a neat line next to it. His walls are bare, with what she can only assume are blue tack marks from the previous tenant’s last year. With the exception of a wall-mounted calendar next to his desk.
“No posters? Was hoping I could be nosy, see what you like.”
When she turns back to Michael he quickly looks down as if not wanting to be caught staring, “It’d just be maths stuff.”
“And Carol Vorderman?” she teases mindlessly, not catching the way his cheeks go alight.
She hums an amused laugh behind the bottle at her lips, “It’s very tidy.”
When he just replies with a shrug, she scoots off the bed to have a roam about the place, needing only a few steps to cross the room to his bookcase, filled to the brim neatly with books. She runs her finger along some of the spines.
“You’re not going to mess anything up are you?”
She laughs, coming out more of a snort, which makes her cheeks warm, “Sorry. Just curious about your books. ‘Mathematics of Language. Sounds like a bit of me and you.”
There’s that flush again.
That deer in the headlights look.
“Uh…just sounded interesting.”
“And is it?”
“Is it what?”
She smirks, “interesting.”
There’s a silence that for a moment neither of them are able to shake.
Michael swallows visibly, “don’t know yet..”
She sees something in his expression when a playful smile lifts across her face, suddenly the memories and implications of what they’d done before now weighing heavily on them. And all at once, he’s able to smell the body scrub she’d used in the shower that morning and eyes flitting to the glint of her stud earrings. He’d remembered brushing past them with his fingers when her mouth wrapped around his-
“And who says you’re not a languages man?” she presses with a teasing lilt to her voice. The tone and sing-songy nature of her voice has his heart doing backflips, feeling as if he could feel the erratic beating between his ribs.
Michael seems stuck in the position he finds himself as she lazily crosses the room, slipping back on his bed, one hand brushing across his bedsheets and the other setting the drink on his bedside table. For a long moment, his eyes couldn’t leave her. The whole situation was suitably extraordinary. A girl who had come onto him (to say the least) was now in his room, sat on his bed, touching his things…all while wearing something he personally deemed unsuitable for the cold, a dress with black tights beneath.
She turns her head to him, smiling, “you seem nervous.”
He swallows, trying to claw at any sort of reply, “is that an accusation?”
It comes out a bit harsher than he probably expected, but instead of recoiling, she bites her lip as if to stifle a full-toothed grin, “an observation.”
He shrugs, “just never had a girl in here before.”
“Worried I’ll mess up your feng shui?”
“My what?”
She genuinely laughs at that, nearly smacking her head on the bed frame, but a hearty chuckle all the same. And Michael doesn’t know why his own cheeks start to heat up at that, taking this opportunity that her eyes are shut to look down at her legs. For some reason, making her laugh just makes him want to try more.
He’s never had that feeling before. Wanting to make someone laugh.
“No, really, my what.”
She meets his eyes brightly with her own, “feng shui, it’s like…the vibe of a room, a space. Like, how you place your furniture or whatever.”
Michael raises a brow, his lip quirking on one side, “sounds like bullshit.”
“It probably is.” she laughs.
“Can I ask you something?”
The quick u-turn and tone in conversation has her eyes meet his nervously, her interest and curiosity piqued. Her hands find themselves nervously stroking her legs, the texture of the tights providing some level of comfort, “yeah sure.”
She can't quite figure out what expression he's trying to put on. His brows are furrowed in judgement and a curious sense of guarding himself. And yet he's sat back in his seat, looking at her like he is trying to figure her out, and yet wants to know why she is the way she is.
“Why did you do that?”
She blinks at the accusatory and monotone rhythm of his way of speaking.
“Do what.”
“Don't play stupid. Doesn't suit you.”
She nearly scoffs at that, “what? Why have you gone all weird all of a sudden?”
“Why did you do…that at the Christmas party?”
She shrugs and shakes her head, as if the answer should be obvious, “because I wanted to? And you didn't seem to mind either.”
“I didn't-that's not the point!” he retorts, “are you genuinely taking the mick out of me?”
“You've asked that before and no.”
“Well why then?”
“Is it not enough to really think that I find you interesting? And nice to talk to?”
Of all the things she expected Michael Gavey to go quiet at, it certainly wasn't that. But she watches him all the same, the line between his brow slowly disappearing as his frown vanishes.
She cocks her head, “and not bad looking either.”
“Stop it.”
“I mean it!”
“Nobody wants the fucking maths virgin-”
“Michael. I don't give a fuck about that,” she says calmly, “Hell, I was a virgin not that long ago. You keep saying ‘nobody wants the virgin’ but you can't keep using that as an excuse just because you're embarrassed you haven't done anything.”
He sighs, like he doesn't want to believe her. And she can hardly believe how self-deprecating and yet direct this man can be in a single breath.
“Look, if you don't want to talk to me, I can always go-”
Almost as soon as she is stood, he is too, one large hand wrapped around her forearm, “No.”
They've been sat so long, she had almost forgotten how tall he was, and the difference between them briefly has her tummy doing back flips. From here, she is able to smell whatever body wash he uses, and if she had to guess, probably blue radox.
“No, I didn't say I wanted you to go. Stay…”
He doesn't say ‘please’ once, and yet she's able to hear the desperation.
When she doesn't move, his grip loosens, and she feels tingly all over when his hand slides up her arm.
“Can I kiss you again like last time?”
She almost smiles in adoration at how he asks it, but for the sake of saving him the embarrassment of thinking she's laughing at him, settles for a simple and gentle nod of her head. She is sure she's not really thought it through. Weighing up the pros and cons isn't exactly the first thing on her mind right now though as Michael has to bend significantly to crash his lips to hers.
Much like last time, he is a bit endearingly clumsy, his lips moving quickly on hers like he's running a race with his mouth. This time there is no pool table for him to cage her against, but all the same his legs take him forwards until her knees hit the edge of his bed.
By the time he is on top of her, she's managed to weave her fingers through his hair, her nose nudging against his glasses every now and then, and guiding him with her own movements to slow down and enjoy the moment, with no need to rush.
She knows that secretly he's probably just excited.
But this time, his hands are extremely active.
She's unable to help the breathy whimper between desperate kisses as he tentatively squeezes her thighs, not quite brave enough to go beneath the dress yet and drifting upwards to her breasts, touching and clutching fondly, as if any harsh grip or movement and she'll get up and leave.
He's still unsure, maybe even nervous, she can feel it.
It's here she realises that whether he is doing it subconsciously or not, she can feel the strained bulge at the front of his trousers rubbing up against the inside of her leg, probably chasing friction that feels too good for him to feel lucid.
“Can I see you…” he asks as his lips break away.
She doesn't even reply, she just complies, pulling the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders and the bra straps along with it. The position she's in making it near impossible to reach behind her.
If she could print his face in her mind as she pulled her dress down to her ribs, she would. He looks entirely mesmerised in adoration, and once the only thing covering her breasts is the thin material of her bra, Michael looks at her with an almost dream-like gaze.
His hand moves before his mouth, or at least before he catches himself, “Is it oka-”
“Course..” she says far too quickly.
All she can hear as Michael pulls the thin straps of her bra fully down her arms, exposing her breasts, is his breath, staggered and uneven. His hand easily covers one of her breasts, squeezing experimentally, his thumb gently drifting over her nipple and watching them stiffen to needy buds.
She doesn’t need to look between them to see how hard he is, she can feel him against her thigh, where her dress has since ridden up to her hips.
His glasses knock against her chest as he leans down, all-too-carefully covering her nipple with his tongue, like he is trying to print the taste of them to memory.
There is an unconscious desire to press her thighs together, but she settles for rolling her hips, causing Michael’s voice to rumble against her chest where he mouths at her breasts. One hand forever stays at the one he isn’t paying lip service to, testing the weight and shape in his palms.
It feels like all sensitivity has been turned up to 1000. He is so slow, so unsure, that every languid movement has every nerve feel as if it’s on fire. A selfish part of her wants him to go faster, so used to the fervent, almost rushing nature of who she’d been with before. It was never like this, borderline worshipping.
“Michael…” she breathes, rolling her hips against him experimentally, rewarded with a low whine from him.
She watched as her nipple slips from his lips in the most erotic manner she’d ever seen, before his clear eyes are on her again.
“Is this okay? Am I doing something wr-”
“No,” she shakes her head quickly, “feels nice.”
Michael licks his lips, a sign of how nervous he is, “Can I do something else?”
He is so eager to please, to learn, that looking at his face as he asks she can hardly deny him. And her head moves without effort, nodding as she watches his hand disappear beneath the hem of her dress to pull her tights down her legs.
It then becomes obvious what he wants to do.
“Are you sure, I-”
“I’m sure.” he adds, rolling the black nylon down her legs until all that is left between Michael and her bare skin below her hips, is her underwear. A flush of embarrassment engulfs her face at the thought of how aroused she might be, knowing he has no experience, she doesn’t want to scare him off. The tender and yet needy way he’d mouthed at her breasts had her body all warm, and she can’t remember the last time she’d been this ready for anything.
“I just want to do the same for you as you did for me. Make you feel good.”
And that certainly doesn’t help that feeling either.
She’s not sure if she will get tired of the sight of his long, lithe fingers gripping her thighs apart, and for a moment she finds herself entranced by the view, until he is pressing sweet kisses to the inside of them. Open-mouthed, with an addictive cooling sensation when he pulls away, only to edge closer to the centre of her underwear.
Her breath remains stuck in her chest as she watches him navigate the female body, mapping it out in his head. She knows better than to say anything, knowing him as she does now, he is immensely competitive, and wants to get things right. It’s likely if she stepped in to instruct him, it would only embarrass him more. So she stays quiet, and lets him come to her.
His thumb dips beneath the leg hole of her underwear, “Can I?”
She swallows visibly, now for some reason it’s her being the nervous one. Possibly because the first time, it was her doing something for him. And now, it is very much the feeling of being studied, of being watched to see what made her tick. A feeling that has her desperate for some kind of fulfilment. Anything.
She lifts her hips to help him slide her underwear down her legs, her cheeks warming at being so utterly exposed to him herself for the first time. There is a finality to it that she just can’t quite put into words. A point of no return.
A full body shudder made its way through her when she felt his thumb trail across the spot where her leg met her hip, trailing the line there that led to her sensitive womanhood.
Michael looked as if he was being presented with an equation, she could practically hear the thoughts in his head. But beyond not entirely knowing what to do, it didn't dissuade his curiosity.
She could tell though, that he didn't know what to do.
Michael nearly flinched when she took his hand, encouraging his thumb to touch her bundle nerves hidden between her folds.
She watched him as his thumb cautiously collected the wetness that had begun to come out of her and used it to gently apply pressure to her clit. Breath was hot in her chest as he started slowly.
“Does that feel good?” He asked softly.
As soon as she nodded, confirming how pleasurable it was, Michael's first reaction was to go faster. And so he did. Like he was trying to light a fire.
“No, no, no, it's fine to go slow.”
“Shit, sorry…”
“It’s fine,” she smiled, “just more gentle.”
The panic on his face had been clear. But at her gentle instruction, she saw him relax, taking her words and applying gentle pressure in slower, tighter circles. And it seemed Michael was now fully aware of its intended effect, as his eyes were able to lift up to hers underneath the rim of his glasses to see her breathing had increased, and blood rushing to her cheeks.
It felt incredible to watch his expressions, she thought. Seeing the little thoughts rattling around in his head, to be able to awaken something in him for the first time. But it also felt utterly exposing, and every time his thumb drew circles against her clit, she heard the soft click of her arousal that made the room feel as if she were inside an oven.
Michael’s lips parted, his head moving as if pulled by an invisible string to her core.
“Can I…?” he asked again, but more uncertain this time.
The anticipation gnaws so much at her skin, combined with the way he is taking his time that she has become somewhat impatient, so it’s completely involuntary when she nods her head and somehow manages a whispered ‘yes’.
She doesn't really, really know what's wrong with her. She's had head before. But when he dives between her thighs so quickly and eagerly, his thumbs almost pulling her skin gently to expose as much of her as he can, and swiping his tongue over the centre. From her entrance, all the way to her bundle of nerves.
It has her breath stuck in her chest, instinctively reaching down to run her fingers through his sandy hair. Even the slightest tug on it has a low groan vibrating through her where his mouth moves slowly against her.
“Michael…”
At first he is careful, taking the instruction she'd given him before and applying it to tasting her instead. But his eyes flit up to her when she breathes his name like that, so he redoubles his efforts, gripping the underside of her thighs to tug her towards him in a teasing rhythm.
She didn't really know what to expect, assuming he hadn't done anything like this before. But Michael seems eager to please, as he nudges between her sensitive folds to tease her entrance with his tongue, the sharp shape of his nose butting against her bud with every movement, as little as it is.
With one hand in his hair, her hips move against his face, the glasses perched on his face hanging askew. And all she can see is that his eyes are closed as he tastes her, every now and then he makes a noise between a whine and a moan, as if he didn't want the experience to end.
Dragging his tongue back up to her bud to focus his attention there, Michael experimentally slides one long, slender digit easily inside her, pleased at the breathy sound it seems to elicit from her. Two feelings at once, just as she'd given him before.
“Oh, shit-”
He fights the urge to smirk when he hears that. She's so warm and wet, that it's easy to slide in the second, feeling her walls suck him in as they clamp around his fingers moving in and out of her. It's a feeling he couldn't describe if he tried, and he daren't think of what she'd feel like around his cock, or if she'd let him.
She can feel her stomach muscles tightening, an orgasm bubbling up to the surface when he gains confidence, flicking her swollen clit with his tongue and pistoning two fingers with a pornographically wet smack into her over and over. Brushing that sweet spot inside that he manages to find sometimes, seemingly without realising.
“Michael - fuck - I'm gonna-”
He groans as her fingers tug at his hair, her hips grinding herself against him and chasing that delicious friction as her high barrels through her, sparking pleasure down each notch of her spine until it fizzles out through her limbs.
She can feel Michael grinding himself against the bed, searching for his own, as he maintains his actions, lapping up everything she gives him with determination. When she dares to look down at him, as if he can sense it, his eyes open to watch her expression, the blue of his eyes nearly entirely eclipsed by black.
As if something had been awoken in him that even he couldn't recognise he'd wanted.
With one last swipe of his tongue over her centre, Michael withdraws his fingers, gripping her thigh with them and making the skin there glisten.
Her cheeks feel as if they're on fire when he rights himself to his knees before her, looking down at her with admiration at how she is still essentially half naked. The tightness at the front of his jeans makes it obvious how he felt about what he'd just done.
Engrossed by watching her breasts move as she breathes heavily, the slight shimmer of sweat on her collarbones, Michael raises his hand to his face, using his palm to wipe her slick from his lips and chin.
She breaks the silence with a tired laugh when he pushes his glasses back up his face, one half of the lenses completely fogged up. It prompts him to laugh too.
“Was I okay?”
This time she doesn't hold back her smile at the way he asks it. As if she hadn't just shaken with the force of her high all over his face.
She nods, “More than okay.”
He seems genuinely relieved.
She bites her lip as she looks at him, his cheeks all tinged pink, his mind reeling at what they'd just done.
He doesn't know what to say or do, and she can see it.
“Do you fancy having a girlfriend, Michael?” she asks.
“Uh…I've never had one, not properly anyway.”
“Yes, but would you like one?”
She watches the bob of his Adam's Apple as he swallows heavily, “Y-yeah…”
She pushes herself up to meet him where he's knelt, admiring his features for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him, encouraging him to kiss her back. It takes a second for him to respond, but when he does, it's needy, teeth and tongues clashing as the musky taste of her is captured on him.
“Tell you what, after your exams, when you can relax, I'll be your proper girlfriend. In every way..”
His breath comes out shuddered against her lips, “what do you mean?..”
She wets her lips as she smirks, “I think you know exactly what I mean, Michael.”
She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing him blushed and bothered.
And when they're both dressed, sharing awkward giggles and nervous kisses, she gives him a look with a cock of her head as he checks his wall-mounted Countdown-themed calendar.
“What you looking for?”
“My last exam is the 15th. There's exactly 12,246 minutes between now and then and all I'm going to be thinking about is whether you'll really be my girlfriend or not.”
She nearly smiles at the fact he does the maths so quickly. 8 days, 12 hours and 6 minutes until his last exam. And even though she's made it clear she wants him, he's still unsure.
She meets his gaze, unable to hide the grin off her face, “Better get studying then. You've only got 12,245 minutes left until you've got me.”
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Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall
Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕
Part 2
21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.
You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.
Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.
The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.
‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.
‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.
‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.
‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.
Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.
You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.
Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.
Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.
‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.
2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.
The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.
‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.
‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.
‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.
‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.
‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.
‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.
‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.
‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.
‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.
He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.
‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.
It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.
You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?
Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.
These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.
‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.
His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.
‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.
Part 2
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#oliver quick#oliver quick smut#barry keoghan#salt burn#saltburn#barry keoghan smut#druig x female reader#druig x y/n#druig smut#druig x reader#druig imagine#druig fanfiction#Barry keogan x reader#saltburn smut#saltburn fanfiction#michael gavey smut#oliver quick fanfic#felix catton#jacob elordi#farleigh start
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Bad idea right?
Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it’s been a long time since you had fun with a guy. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body in relation to your roommate.
pairing: Michael Gavey x roommate fem!reader
warnings: p in v sex, fingering, loss of virginity, praising, english is not my first language. 3,455 words.
ewanverse characters masterlist
The idea of having a place only yours has always been something that cheered you up. Independence, silence and calm were very tempting qualities that always ended up being put in the background when the accounts were put on the table. In addition to the rent there was energy, internet, water, food and God knows if something breaks. You postponed the project for a long time while saving more money in the expectation of finding something more affordable, until the perfect option appeared on one of the announcement panels of the central building of the Campus. It was a beautiful coincidence actually, since you didn't used to go to such a place on a daily basis, but apparently the small white poster listed all the features you wanted in your small apartment for a price that fit in your pocket.
There was only one catch, a big catch.
The place already had an owner who was looking for a roommate.
In days past that would be enough for you to ignore the ad and follow your search, but the price and location seemed too tempting to ignore. You would give it a chance and call the number.
And then an even bigger but appeared: the voice on the other side of the line was masculine.
The idea of sharing an apartment with an unknown man was terrifying at all levels and almost made you hang up the phone. For some reason you arranged to visit the place the next day, obviously taking a friend and a knife in case the idiot wanted to play the smart.
And that's how you met Michael. Introverted, nerdy and brutally honest Michael Gavey. Obviously there was a lot of tension during the whole moment that led you to get to know the rooms and talk to him. About the place: it was quite comfortable and bigger than you expected, really organized and warm in the cold season of the beginning of winter. It was ridiculously pleasant. And as for Michael, well, you hadn't decided if he was a harmless nerd or a serial killer. Still, he seemed to interpret the female fear when he offered himself by saying:
"I understand that it's difficult for a woman to live with a lad she doesn't know."
But the point was: you had really liked the apartment, and when he started saying the rules of coexistence the distance between nerd and possible killer became bigger, much bigger. That was not a one-sided conversation, especially when you started questioning him in a not very subtle way about his life. What did he do? Where did he come from? Did he hide bodies in his room? (The latter was in your imagination, but you managed to spy on his room without being noticed).
Michael said that some people showed interest in the ad but that they did not fit the standard of roomies he wanted. Disorganized, drugged and very noisy, as soon as he classified them.
His methodical personality did his best to try to build a positive (or less negative) image you could have of the arrangement. And honestly, he seemed to be a quiet man, who appreciated a certain silence and calm that you wanted in your home most of the time. Obviously you checked the criminal record of the guy with caramel hair and beautiful blue eyes as soon as you left the building, relieving yourself by not finding anything. But hey, he was a student like you, it couldn't be so hard to find something about the guy!
By another incredible chance of fate a friend of a friend had some classes with Gavey and was very efficient in giving some information about the subject:
"Really smart, a little pretentious and clumsy, but he's a nice guy, doesn't have many friends and is definitely harmless."
Obviously it took much more than that to make you invest in the property, but what really mattered was that that weekend Michael Gavey had received a call and agreed with the idea.
So officially you were moving to the place you wanted, well located and cozy, but with a roommate who owns the place. And for the next few weeks after the move you slept with a knife under the pillow.
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Living with Michael proved to be something very calm. Your classes took place at the same time, which culminated in sharing the rest of the day together. Initially things were strange, especially when you tried to talk to each other in the first days without any subject that caught the attention of the other, which defined the following days with dialogues only about the needs of coexistence. It was much easier that way and ensured that the dynamics between you happened in a more organic way than thought, since both were easy to deal with in your own ways. The apartment wasn’t complete yet, with few kitchen utensils and cleaning that you didn't mind buying. Michael was very hygienic and almost never left anything for you to clean (if it happened he would leave a note in the sink or bathroom indicating that he would take care of it later).
He wasn’t so good in the kitchen, but that wasn’t a problem when cooking was an almost relaxing activity for you, and it was very gratifying to receive compliments about your food. In addition, at the end of dinner he would make a point of washing the dishes to help.
Everything seemed to go very well over the weeks, the first month, the first month and a half until things started to change in the way you saw it.
Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it's been a while since you had fun with a man. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body. You see, Michael wasn’t bad looking, not with his caramel blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and a formidable face; not with his terribly long fingers and delicious hands, not with his height much higher than your usually covered your body when he approached. No, the point was that you never had a relationship with someone like him. A little introverted, methodical, with a particular sense of humor and a little grumpy. On the other hand, he knew how to be pleasant and malleable when he wanted, he was almost shrewd and a little lonely.
Adding this to a nice body, a perfectly sculpted face and the looks he sent you when your clothes were tighter or more tidy, the sum was that you wanted to fuck that damn nerd in every room of your shared apartment.
Initially the feeling was repressed. Maybe it was just your fertile period and the sad reality of being for a long time without a male comfort — not the fact that he looks like a delicious prey easily edible. However, as the days went by the realization of being really invested in your roommate was more explicit and palpable, really palpable. Something needed to be done on the subject and some ideas were already around your mind about how to convince Michael to have sex madly in the next few days.
You looked good as an advantage, although you weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world, you were beautiful enough to take off a good looking partner. It couldn't be so difficult (or he could reject it). Therefore, acting with subtlety was your first option, although there was the uncertainty of him not realizing even if his mind was too sharp to do so. But in your state of urgency by instant action the games that would make him gradually succumb would be extremely stressful for you, so you would grab him at once.
But how would you proceed?
It was Friday night and your friends were dismissed for your onslaught to happen. Should you arrive as a hungry lun or a sneaky fox?
Fuck it, you'd jump on it with everything you had.
Wearing only a lacy white lingerie and an unbuttoned silk social t-shirt you left for the attack, opening the bedroom door and floating like a feather to the living room where your sweet roommate was distracted by the laptop. He didn't seem as focused as the times he studied, in fact he was almost relaxed in his gray sweatpants and thick pumpkin-colored sweater and a rare soft look on the screen. It was the ideal moment.
With a sensual feature and melodious voice you announced your presence with a simple "Hey," calling his attention.
And as you called it.
The poor lad could barely blink when he saw your half-naked and inviting figure approaching with a false innocent smile.
His reaction was a real treat. With his blue eyes wide from under his glasses and half-open mouth. He was terribly shocked, that was a fact, and it only encouraged you to go ahead. "I was thinking, if... you wouldn't have some time available for me." In a bold action, you gently pushed the laptop away and sat on his lap with one leg on each side of his waist, leaning your hands against the breastplate and leaning close to his flushed face to whisper on his perfect lips. "I'm thinking of something we can do together."
Blinking a few times for your dubious suggestion, Michael's hands landed uncertainly on the side of your thighs as he tried to formulate some audible answer in his now unstructured mind. “D-do you?” He asked tense, panting.
“Yes, but only if you want too,” you purred against his mouth, rubbing your noses and moving your dressed pussy against the newly hardened bulge, making him both moan low in anticipation.
Interesting fact about Michael: he's never had any girl rubbing against his body like that before. In fact, he never had a girl in any way.
It was something that didn't bother him full time, very worried about books, classes and science, but it would be a lie to say that he didn't think what it would be like to fuck a girl whose attraction to him was genuine. But that, well, that was better than any fantasy he's ever had throughout his life, that's why it was so costly to believe and answer your question with a blown and whispered "Yes", quickly amended by a more assertive confirmation: "I want to."
“Good," you smirk satisfied and collided your lips on his in a demanding and intense kiss, giving no chance to any doubt that he will feel. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and his soft caramelized hair, avoiding any body separation.
Michael moaned when your fingers pulled some sensitive threads from the back of his neck, holding your waist and ass in a firm grip. That could only be a big wet dream. Yes, he really stole glances at you many times, more than he was proud of, but to think that this would happen? That way? Not even fucking.
He pressed his hardened cock against your pussy again and broke a kiss with a grunt when you started grinding on it. It was a delight to feel the impressive hardness below your body and see it all red and anxious, capturing another panting, long and tongue-filled kiss. Not even when you ripped off his sweater and discarded your social shirt, your lips separated. Although he was a skinny nerd, he had a really nice body. You wanted to fuck right there, but it was exciting to see him follow your trail like a hungry puppy. And he was fucking hungry, although equally nervous about being his first time.
Michael wasn’t stupid to think it would last long, he heard the stories, he knew how the male body worked to hump for the first time, he knew it would be disastrous, so when you leaned against him again his words were quick to reveal his secret.
“Wait… I need to say something,” his eyes faced the ground, posture hardening as he quickly lowered his head. At that moment you were sure of your implications on your roomie's sexual history, but wanted to respect his process in stating clearly. "I've never done thid."
With a gentle hand groping the left side of his face, you tried to calm him down: "it's ok, really. We can stop if you don't feel comfortable."
"No, no, I want that, really-," he was quick to contest, "I just didn't want to disappoint you."
“Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you for that. Besides, I can teach you how to use these fingers to make women cum," you bit your lower lip, looking at it sensually. "Let me take care of you, babe."
And he became meek like a lamb, letting you take off his sweatpants before he himself hurriedly took off his shoes and socks and was only in his underwear, being guided to lie on the bed while your body climbed on his hips and groped his arms, breastplate and milky abs. "You have such a great body," you purred and leaned to kiss him, savoring his hands kneading and squeezing your arse, climbing up your back and daring to open the clasp of your bra, to which you were rewarded by your satisfied tinnitus. “Good boy,” and then your tits were exposed to his delight, being touched and exploited by two large, warm and inexperienced hands. God, he never thought that tis could be so amazing.
His thumbs rotated your halos experimentally, with a little more force than necessary but without being uncomfortable. Your hands covered Michael's and guided them to your waist, squeezing, landing them on your hips.
"Women like caresses and kisses to get in the mood. Kisses on the neck, jaw, clavicle, boobs..." you started, "I don't need these things at the moment, but next time this will be welcome."
Although excited about the idea of a next time suggested in advance, Michael didn’t want to spend his luck betting that your thought would be kept after sex, as a result, he sat in bed with you on his lap and attacked your neck with kisses, bites and hickeys. His work against the encounter between neck and shoulder made you purr with pleasure and close your eyes, really enjoying how he gently pulled some strands of hair from the back of your neck. The boy had potential.
“Keep going, babe”
The wet and anxious trail followed your lap, top and valley of the tits until capturing a nipple in the hot mouth, sucking and nibbling greedily. He couldn't believe that you were on his lap letting him suck your tits, that he was the reason for your moans and soft whining. Damn, he was already in the clouds and hadn't even actually laid you — or the opposite.
And although the feeling was terribly pleasant, the heat in your pussy was too aggressive to ignore, you needed a quick and urgent relief.
"Michael" you called him. "I need to get the condom," with that, you walked away against his will to pick up the package from your nightstand. "Now, take a deep breath when I start and try to distract yourself with something else to last longer, I'll go slowly but it's very intense and better than your hand, so hold tight," you warned him before pulling his boxer down to reveal his beautiful dick shining with pre-cum. Holy shit, Michael Gavey was fucking nice. “Damn, you’re fucking handsome. I should have seen this before."
And he was already out of breath before you stretched around him, his glasses crooked and a little blurry, half-open mouth and body hurting in anxiety, cock writhing with every touch received on his skin.
“Put it.”
And he put on the condom while you removed your panties and crawled into his lap again, making him lie down again. “Hold on, big guy.”
And then, picking up his cock and guiding him to your entrance, you sank slowly, giving him time to squeeze your hips with each centrimeter swallowed, caressing and smelling his soft hair when his head fell against your neck. Nothing had prepared him for that, no handful of lubricant came close to the tightness, heat and moisture of your pussy. If he was in the clouds before, now he was sure he was in the sky. “Wait! Wait! Don't move yet." And for that he needed to make sure it lasted.
"Okay... just breath babe, relax, think of something else." you instructed him panting, savoring the feeling of his cock inside your silky walls. Everything about his member was perfect, from the size to the thickness, filling you perfectly. A whining fell from your lips and you hugged him. “So good, mm.”
"Fuck," he grunted in despair, squeezing your body against his.
“Don't worry about it, it's okay, just enjoy it while it lasts,” you whispered against his temple.
That was the damn point. “I won't last long,” he said.
“So just enjoy, Mike,” biting his earlobe, you started jumping constantly, moaning uninhibitely at how good that nerd felt. He pushed his face even more on your neck and held your waist to the dear life, moaning and grunting and pulling you to lie above him. He was a panting mess with blurry glasses and a half-open mouth, a damn sight that made you more aroused than usual, very proud to be the reason for his snatched state.
“Oh fuck, fuck- I'm gonna-“
“Come for me, babe,” you rubbed your groin against his one, two, three times when he fell apart intensely with a long, hoarse moan, heavy breathing and a blushing face.
Withdrawing from him, your body fell on the bed still hot and longing to be satisfied, watching him gradually recompose in a brief comfortable silence.
"So... did you like it?" You asked, fingering his breastplate.
Did he like it? Damn, that shit blew his mind. “So fucking good.” Although part of his mind was eager to reward you, he had to. He had to make you cum. Turning to face you, Michael stood at your top before while asking: "what should I do now?"
Smirking maliciously, you leaned your feet on the bed and spread your legs more to him. “Fuck me with your fingers,” you purred, taking his right hand and guiding him to your wet center. "I like it when guys don't forget that I have a clit, I don't understand why, even why it makes your work easier," you circled your hill with his fingers, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Heat me up with one, then put on another."
And he followed your rules like a good boy, sticking a long finger pumping slowly.
"Mhm, just like that," you bit your lower lip, but very very very impatient to wait for the development of a slow orgasm, you needed to cum as soon as possible. Taking his hand, you held your index finger and made him join the middle one. “Go faster.”
And although sloppy and a little strong a few times, his fingers felt so fucking good on your velvet walls, reaching the sweet point that made your toes curl. “Fuck! Keep going Michael!”
He was hypnotized by the wet sounds that your pussy was making, by your body writhing and his fingers disappearing inside you, squeezing, wetting...
That set of things went straight to his cock.
"Roll your fingers slowly," you ordered, arching your back when he pressed against your spot, intensifying the tingling at the base of your stomach and making you moan louder. “Don't stop, I-I'm close!”
His glasses were on the tip of his nose, almost plummeting from his face, but it didn't matter at the moment. Deciding to use your previous tip on the clit, Michael used his other hand to circle your pearl with pressure, making his eyes close.
“Oh fuck! I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a warm pleasure flooded your senses, holding the bed for the darling life and closing your legs with the strong spasms.
That was better than any porn he watched. And with that he encompassed the last minutes from your approach until now. Michael was still very stunned by everything that happened, that’s why when he lay on your bed it was as if he was recovering from an electric discharge, his mind and body ridiculously overloaded and active. As for you, after a while restoring from a delicious orgasm, you rested your head on his chest and traced patterns on the milky to soft skin, playing with some fine and lost hair. "So, do you want a second round?"
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a/n: I know we don’t have much about Michael, but I was so anxious about this hot nerd that I couldn’t wait for the movie.
#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x you#michael gavey smut#michael gavey#saltburn fic#ewanverse#ewan mitchell
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Teach Me Your Touch - Michael Gavey x Reader
HELAELAEMOND’S KINKTOBER
thank you @arcielee for the banner!
Pairing: Michael Gavey x f!reader
Word count: 3k
Summary: You missed a lecture and have your classmate Michael Gavey share his notes and help you catch up. He's not good at teaching, and he makes you feel stupid. He makes you feel bad. When you cry, he wants to fuck you all better.
Content warning(s): light elements of bullying (prior to smut), feelings of intellectual inferiority
KINK CATEGORIES: public sex, crying, inexperience/loss of virginity (male), fingering (female receiving)
Rating: E
Tagging those who showed interest: @llemes @assortedseaglass @sapphire-writes @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @humanpurposes @underjeno @st-eve-barnes @arcielee @babyblue711
Michael's voice is snappy. "Are you listening to me?"
You look up at him in defeat. "Yes, I'm trying! But I don't-"
"I can't make it any clearer!"
You lean forward on the table and rest your head in your hands. "You're making me feel stupid."
He huffs. "Maybe you are."
Arsehole. Why did you even ask him for his help? You know he's a dickhead, but he's also smart. Last semester, you worked on a group project with him and although he was terrible working with other people, his understanding of the subject was unmatched. He's like a walking calculator, for God's sake, and that intellect seems to apply to every module.
Besides, last time, he had a mean streak, but he also seemed to soften with you. You're not exactly a bombshell, but you're still a woman, and he's a lonely man. You were kind to him last time you worked together, and it made him kinder, too.
Whatever rapport once existed between you, though, seems to have faded. Now, you're sat on the second floor of Radcliffe library under the tall arched ceilings at 2am. No one else is around to see your shame, thankfully.
It's been a long time since you've felt simple. You shouldn't feel stupid - you're on the same course as him! You only missed one lecture! It shouldn't be this hard!
"You're not making it easy to understand," you mumble.
"What?" he asks, irritated.
You lift your head and look at him, eyes red. "My mind doesn't work as quick as yours. I need you to explain it differently."
He blinks at you from behind his thick glasses, and you watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing above his buttoned collar. "Right. Fine. You did the reading, and you understand that a tangled hierarchy is a hierarchical consciousness system in which a strange loop appears. Right?"
Clenching your jaw, you nod. "That much I understand, Michael. I'm not as simple as you think."
"I don't think you're simple. I think you're acting simple."
It's too late and you're too tired. Hot tears spill down your cheeks. "You're acting mean."
"What?" He has the audacity to look shocked. "I'm helping!"
"No, you're not." You stand up and shove your notes into your rucksack hastily, along with your pens and library copy of the required reading. "You've spent the last three hours making me feel stupid and small and unintelligent, and you've enjoyed every second."
"No!" he protests angrily. "Don't tell me how I feel!"
"Alright! Well, that's how you've made me feel! And that's not fair! God, I really thought-" You cut yourself off and take a deep breath. But you're still crying, and it's embarrassing, and you furiously wipe away your tears. They're quickly replaced.
Michael stands up and follows you as you stalk off down the rows and rows of bookcases. He calls your name, but you ignore him. It's loathsome how hearing him say it gives you butterflies. "Will you just wait?" he shouts.
You whirl around to face him, making your rucksack fall off your shoulder and onto the floor. The noise echoes in the cavernous library, and you're suddenly very aware of how empty it is of other people. It didn't bother you before. It doesn't exactly bother you now, either, but... but there's something intense about the way he looks at you. It's angry, it's apprehensive, it's... it makes your skin crawl.
"What is it, Michael?" you ask. You're caught somewhere between anger and weariness.
"It's not my fault you feel stupid," he says defiantly.
"For the love of-"
"Because you're not stupid. You're just acting it. Like I said."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
He swallows. "Yes. You're not as smart as me. But that doesn't mean you're stupid."
You laugh dryly. "I don't know why I was ever nice to you. You have no interest in being nice to me."
Again, confusion flickers over his face. "I agreed to help you, didn't I? that's nice!"
"I think you only agreed to it so you could make me feel like dirt." You pick up your bag again and continue your way to the stairs that will take you down to the main entrance. You're still crying. He's absolutely shattered you tonight, and it's not fair.
Suddenly, there's a hand around your wrist, and it stops you in your tracks. It becomes abundantly clear that Michael Gavey is far stronger than he looks. You're left breathless when, out of nowhere, he pulls you between tall bookcases. He towers over you. You've always noticed how tall he is. Despite his somewhat bookish appearance, there's something about him that has always been nice to look at. Perhaps it's his thick hair, or his sharp jaw, or his pretty blue eyes. Something about him, despite his nasty streak, makes you wish he approved of you.
"Stop crying."
You sniff and look up at him in shame. "I'm trying."
"Try harder."
That makes your face crumple again. "Leave me alone."
"I want to help."
"Let me go."
"You're kind to me," he says, his voice suddenly quieter. When he says your name, it cracks. "I'm trying to make you feel better."
"It's not working."
"Teach me," he whispers. The intensity with which he is now looking at you in almost too much.
"Say something nice about me."
"Oh. Um." His hand loosens slightly on your wrist. You're all too aware of how clammy it is against your skin. You don't care. Any touch from him is, unfortunately, welcome. "Your work on our projective geometry project was good."
"I know it was."
"Alright." He licks his lips. His eyes dart to yours. "You're... good at explaining things in different ways. I'm not."
You sniff, and look down at your feet. His body is close to yours, and your gaze catches something in his trousers. Perhaps his zipper is caught on something. Or perhaps... perhaps...
Your heart races.
"Why did you agree to help me?" you ask, eyes still downcast.
"You asked."
"Why?"
"I..."
"Tell me the truth, Michael."
"Um."
It's so late, and you're so tired. The uncertainty makes the tears fall again. Your head hurts so much. "I'm going."
Michael cries out your name throatily. In a heartbeat, he grasps your shoulders and pushes you against the bookcase, and then his tall, lean body is pressed against yours and his clammy hands find their place on your neck. "Don't cry," he tells you. His face comes closer to yours. His glasses begin to steam up.
"You've done this to me."
"I want to make you feel better. But..."
"But?"
"But you're so pretty when you cry."
And then he kisses you.
It is messy, wet, and needy. He doesn't hesitate to push his tongue against yours, and his glasses press against your face. It should make you squirm away. But it makes you whimper quietly. Your bag drops to the floor, and your hands fly to his narrow hips. You open your mouth wide against his desperately, your teeth clinking against his, and he mirrors you until your lips, your cheeks, your nose, are wet with his spit.
He doesn't know what he's doing. You hardly do, either. And it's so fucking good.
"Michael," you whisper between hard and deep kisses.
He groans your name. "I've thought about this since we first met."
"You thought about me?"
He nods, before burying his face in your throat. His greedy mouth kisses up and down before they settle where your neck and shoulder meet, and he sucks. At his hips, your hands ball into fists around his belt. The carabiner he wears on it with a collection of USBs knocks against your fingers and you tug on it.
You want to fuck him.
"Yeah," he murmurs against your skin. "Think about you in lectures. What I wanna do to you."
To you. Not with you. God, that should make you want to leave. Instead, you resolve to stay.
"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly. "Show me."
"Okay."
Nervous sweat dampens his forehead, but you don't care. You feel it when he presses it against yours and palms you over your jacket. Your soft bra is padded, and you can hardly feel his touch. It's driving you mad. In frustration, you unbutton your shirt quickly and look up at him. "Touch me. Please, Michael, please-"
He breathes loudly through his mouth. His lips are wet with sailva; he's practically drooling. He hesitates.
"Have you been with a woman before?" you ask, chest heaving with need.
His grits his teeth, anger flashing across his face at the question, the mere insinuation that this is his first time. You take that as a no.
So it's your turn to teach him. But just from his desperate kisses, you're almost blind with desire, and there's not much patience left in you. So you pull your breast free from its cup, and press on the back of his head. He's so fucking tall. "Kiss me here," you whine softly. "Suck my nipple."
He is a better pupil than tutor. Perhaps, if you were less aroused, you would tell him to be gentler. But as it is, his eagerness is rough and hard and just what you need. The sharp pull of his mouth sends electricity through you, from your head to your toes, and you arch up against him.
"Your hand," you tell him. "Down my trousers. You thought about that, right?"
Against your breast, he nods. He bites your nipple, and you dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet. It's the middle of the night, but anyone could walk in.
He fumbles with your button and zipper, and then his hand is down the front of your jeans and you spread your legs. He palms you hard, and instinctively, you grind against the touch.
"Let me show you something." Your breathing is laboured already, just like his. He releases your breast from his mouth and meets your gaze with pupils blown wide. You feel your heartbeat under his hand.
You wriggle your jeans down to your knees and then push down your underwear too, enough that you can spread your legs and cover his hand with yours. You guide his long fingers against your cunt, and it takes no time at all to show him how hot and swollen your clit is.
"Like that," you whisper as you press his digits into a firm and fast pace.
"God," he whimpers. "You're so... you're wet."
You nod. "Yeah. Means I want you."
Without needing to be guided this time, his touch strays down, and he presses his middle finger through your folds. When he finds your entrace and slips inside, he moans so loudly that you have to clamp your hand over his mouth.
His eyes are wide and pleading with you. He watches your face so closely as he pushes a second finger inside of you, and he kisses and sucks at your palm against his mouth.
"That's good," you tell him quietly, nodding your head. "Rub circles around my clit with your thumb. Oh, God, yeah, like that. That's good, Michael. Oh, God, don't stop."
When your hand against his mouth goes slack, he takes the opportunity to kiss you again. He shoves his tongue back into your mouth and it's so messy, so needy so erotic, that you have to quickly push his hand away depsite your previous order.
"What?" he asks, suddenly panicked. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing," you gasp. "Gonna make me come already."
His cheeks flush a deep red. "Really?"
He grins lopsidedly, and you whine, "want you inside."
Gulping, and with shaking hands, he unbuckles his belt and the clink of metal seems to echo loudly in the cavernous hall. He shuffles his trousers down his hips, mirroring you, and you look down to see how his hard cock strains against the soft briefs he wears. God, there shouldn't be anything sexy about the y-fronts he's sporting, but you can see the thick outline of him, his heavy balls, and its maddening.
Neither of you care that you're in public now. He pushes his underwear down, too, and when you whisper for him to lift you up, he does it with surprising easy. You kick your trousers and underwear off, spread your legs for him, and grasp the bookshelves at your back for support. His arms are hooked under your thighs and he watches with glasses slipping down his nose as his cock lines up against you.
Instinct takes over. He shoves his cock through your folds, back and forth, coating himself with your arousal, and he presses over your clit with his tip time and time again.
He moans your name too loudly.
"Shh," you soothe, as if you're not fighting with all of your strength to stay quiet. "God, that feels good."
"Inside?" he asks, unable to take his eyes off his cock on your cunt.
"If you want."
"I do." He meets your gaze. There's a vulnerability in him that you haven't seen before. And then you clench, and he feels your muscles tighten, and desire wins out. After a moment of slipping through you, he presses his blunt head against you, and pushes into you in one, swift movement.
The speed takes you by surprise. He's bigger than the vibrator you've been satisfied with lately, but that's alright. You're wet and throbbing, relaxed enough to take him. But it's still a stretch, albeit a blissful one. It's a stretch that borders the line between sweet and stinging, and tears prick your eyes. Good tears, this time.
"Okay?" he asks, voice cracking.
They drip down your cheeks but you smile, biting your lip, and nod. "Yeah. Hard. Go hard, Michael. Need- God, need you!"
And he does as you tell him. "Think about you," he grunts as he thrusts hard and fast. He's on the tip of his toes, knees bent, as he sets a brutal pace that has your body aflame. "All the... fuck, all the time. Oh! Oh!"
You clamp your hand back over his mouth to stifle his moans, and they dissolve into whimpers that match his hard, laboured breaths. They come through his nose and make the skin of your hand prickle. Michael grips your hips hard enough to bruise and it's so good, it's so fucking good. He wants you, he needs you. That's why he agreed to help you. That's why he accepted your kindness.
He likes you. Buried six inches deep in you, you realise this. It makes you bury your face into his neck, and you bite his earlobe. He whimpers in response. "Shh," you soothe.
"Close," he groans against your hand.
"Me too," you breathe. The coil in your stomach is tightening. The tension in your thighs spreads up your back, between your shoulders, and all the way down to your toes. As you wrap your legs around his slim waist, you wonder, in the back of your mind, if the shoes you still wear will leave a mark on his shirt.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, so good, fuck-!" He comes suddenly, buried deep inside you, and you feel him spurt inside of you. But it doesn't matter, you're so undone it doesn't matter, it doesn't fucking matter-!
He whines your name and presses his groin tight against your as his orgasm stutters over him. Dropping his head on your shoulder, he pants, and whispers your name.
"Michael," you protest quietly. "Plase, I'm not there, I'm-"
You rock your hips against him needily. As if it is the easiest thing in the world, he sets you down and pulls out, and immediately replaces his cock with his hand. Just as you showed him before, he buries his fingers back in your pussy and circles your clit with his thumb, and you appreciate it, you do, but it's not enough, it's not enough-
"Oh, God," you groan softly. "Like this."
You're trembling close and youre's so needy, and you grab his hand and press all fingers against your mound, showing him to press as hard and fast as he can. It hurts in the best way, and his hand is almost a blur, and he studies your face with an open mouth as your expression crinkles, tightens, your jaw slack and eyes scrunched closed.
The orgasm he gives you explodes through your body and you white out, knees giving way and balancing falling through. With his hand still firm against your cunt, he catches you and holds you steady, and you clutch against him blindly for balance. "I've got you," he grunts. "Easy."
But there's pride in his voice. He keeps his hand against you even after your orgasm has washed over you. Your flesh there twitches, hot and swollen, and his fingers gently press in different places to learn about you. Whatever information he gathers makes him smile.
After a long moment, enough strength returns to you that you can stand steadily again. "God, that was..."
"Acceptable?" he asks hopefully.
You're bending down to pull your underwear and trousers back on, and you glance up, trying not to grin. "It was good."
He smiles slightly and nods, looking away as if deep in thought. "Alright, that's good, then. Next time, should I wait for you to... to finish first?"
"Next time?" you ask with a quiet laugh. Standing upright, you do your trousers back up and he does the same, the USB still swinging from his belt.
"We have to do this again." Michael says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then, he brings the hand up covered in your wetness, and he licks his fingers clean. His eyes close in bliss. "You taste so sweet."
Biting the inside of your cheek, you smile even wider. "You don't have to do that."
Swallowing, he murmurs your name and smiles. It's the most genuine smile you've seen him wear. "Oh, I do. You know me. Always had a sweet tooth."
#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x reader#saltburn#ewan mitchell#ewan nation#mine#helaelaemond kinktober
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She Brings The Darkness Pt. 2
Michael Gavey X (Goth Classmate Reader)
Warnings after the cut
Word Count: 1869
She Brings The Darkness Masterlist
Michael Gavey Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners & Dividers by @arcielee
A/N: This was the winner of the 300 followers vote! Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy! It was fun to see what you all wanted more of. Plus my bad for not getting this out before starting the next vote LMAO the timing was weird.
This is the sequel to THIS
Warnings: Swearing, Unprotected PinV Sex, Oral female Receiving. a little bit subby Michael, Whining Michael, Whimpering Michael.
Since your little rendezvous in the library, things had gone back to normal. You were yet again invisible, and Michael avoided looking at you at all costs.
You fight with yourself constantly. You had wanted Michael to leave you alone. That was the entire point, but now that he was, it was driving you crazy.
You find yourself seeking him out, in the library, the courtyard anywhere, really. Boring holes into the side of his head or back of his head willing him to look at you, yet he never does.
"Why am I like this?" You huff to yourself after yet again staring at Michael as he walked through the courtyard. "I am actually chasing Michael fucking Gavey" You rub your hands over your eyes and sigh.
Yet when your feet start moving again, they follow the path set forth by Michael. You can't seem to stop yourself from seeking him out.
When you round the corner, you smash directly into the cause of your ire.
"Why are you following me?" He asks sharply. "I was under the impression we came to an agreement."
You stare back at him speechless. He's right. What do you even say in this situation?
"I .... I ... ummm, " You scramble for words inside your head, but any sensical excuse seems to allude you.
Michael smirks as you stammer. "You don't want me to leave you alone now, do you?" He steps closer to you and tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your eyes. The eyes that were currently avoiding him.
"Hmmmm... seems I may have you hooked. " He chuckles.
Cockyness doesn't suit him, you think, or maybe it does?
"No. I'm not hooked on anything!" You protest with a little too much enthusiasm.
He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "I've seen you outside of my dorm. Clearly, you know where it is. Meet me there tonight." Michael turns from you and walks away quickly out of sight as you stand there bewildered.
What the fuck just happened?
Michael walks away from you with a cocky stride, yet the moment he is out of view, he wipes his palms on his trousers and shudders.
"What am I to do if she actually shows up?"
The whole thing was his brother's idea. He had called him explaining what had happened between the two of you in the library and your subsequent behavior.
"She wants the dick Michael" His brother had said while laughing. "Give it to her."
It all seemed so easy when talking about it jovially on the phone but actually going through with it? That is an entirely different matter.
Michael was no virgin, thanks to the kindness of a sweet girl at his secondary school who wanted to get back at her cheating boyfriend, but he was far from experienced.
He had gone out and purchased condoms. Cleaned his dormroom and knew his roommate would be out tonight.
Everything is in place. Now he just has to wait and see if you actually show up.
Back in your dorm, you are in turmoil. Do you go?
You decide to go and convince yourself it is for one reason. To get the power back. Somehow, the power has shifted to Michael, and you can't have that.
So you rummage around your closet. The outfit needs to be sexier than last time. You don't want him to sweat, you want him to pass the fuck out. Forget maths. Something extreme. Something to tip the power back into your hands.
You pull out a red and black pleated miniskirt to match the red lacey bra and thong you already chose. With a silky red corset top.
This should do it. You choose a pair of black fishnet thigh highs with little red bows on the bands and strap up your docs.
You fix yourself up in the mirror and giggle, "Michael Gavey prepare to grovel."
You arrive outside his dorm room and stop at the door.
"Knock." You tell yourself, yet your hand doesn't move. "Fuckin knock!"
The door opens, and Michael looks at you with a curious expression and a half smile. "Having trouble then?" He opens the door wider to let you in.
You grit your teeth. Embarrassing yourself before you even stepped foot in the room was not part of the game plan.
"Michael." You turn to look at him attempting to put on your most seductive face.
He falters briefly, swallowing loudly before righting himself and falling back into the cocky boy persona.
It's a battle of wills.
"So why did you want me to come here?" You play with the collar of his shirt, bringing your fingers dangerously close to his neck. You can see the goosebumps cross his skin, but he plays it off so well.
"So we can discuss the ....... situation we have going on. " You cringe as he uses the same words you used in the library. This is as much a game of wits as it is wills, and you may be outmatched.
When he looks at you with another cocky smirk, a smirk that says, "I win." You decided to go with your last move. Your fatality move.
You move toward Michael, quickly wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull his face towards yours, kissing him harshly. He freezes for just a moment before he starts to kiss you back, the mashing of tongues and lips messy and arousing.
This was not the plan. It was better than the plan. You push him back by the shoulders toward his bed. You know if you get him on that bed with you on top, you have him. He will melt just like last time.
He allows you to push him back on the bed, wrapping his arm around your back to pull you down with him. Your lips staying connected.
You crawl up onto him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips. He pulls back briefly and chuckles before gripping your back tightly and rolling you both over, pinning you beneath him.
"Not this time" He growls before he bites into your neck pressing his hardening cock up against your heat only his trousers and your thong separating the two.
You gasp as you feel his teeth tugging at the sensitive skin of your neck, ripples of pleasure traveling down your spine.
"Fuck Michael" You moan the words overwhelmed by the shock of his aggression and the pleasure he is making you feel.
"I got more," He mumbles as he starts kissing down onto your chest, unclasping the hooks on the corset. He gazes down at your half-naked form with a gleam in his eye. "So this is what you've been hiding under all those baggy clothes"
As he makes his way down to your skirt, you lift up your hips. "No, this we are gonna keep on." He pushes your hips back down onto the bed and pushes your skirt up.
You feel heat pooling in your stomach, traveling down to your core. How are you this turned on by Michael fucking Gavey?
He pushes your thighs apart and looks at your cunt. "Fucking brilliant" Is all he says before he shoves his head between your legs pulling your thong to the side and lapping directly at your clit.
"Oh fuck!" You whine at the sudden sensation.
He reacts to your whines with moans of his own as he continues to lick and suck at your pearl. Your hands travel down to his head gripping his hair and rutting your pussy against his face.
It feels too good and you need more pressure. You're sure you are suffocating him, but you don't care.
"Just like that, just like that." You whimper your legs, clamping around his head. "Fuck, right there, right there!" You arch your back as your climax tears through you, Michael continuing to lap at your folds as you ride out your high.
"Too much, too much." You whine afterward, pushing his head away.
He stands up a little dazed, face glistening with the proof of your arousal.
"Come here." You gesture for him to again join you on the bed, and he quickly obliges, crawling onto your body and slotting himself between your thighs.
When he brings his lips back down upon yours, you can taste yourself, and it only serves to increase your arousal. "Take those off," you whisper, tugging at the waistband of his trousers.
He quickly shuffles them off before turning to pull a box of condoms out of his bedside drawer.
"I'm clean and on birth control." You pull him back towards you. "Let me feel you."
He speechlessly nods at you, eyes half lidded, like he's in a trance.
You spread your legs wider for him.
"Fuck I... I really didn't expect it to get this far" he mutters more to himself than to you.
You can't help but giggle before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him towards you. "Hurry up and fuck me Michael Gavey"
"uhhh .... yeah..... fuck yeah" He leans forward again nipping at the skin of your neck before pressing the head of his cock against your entrance.
"Fucccccccck," He moans as he starts to push into you, feeling the warmth and wetness surround him.
You grip his hips, pulling him forward, digging your nails into his soft, tender flesh.
"I said fuck me Michael." You growl biting down harshly on his bottom lip.
"Yes," He whimpers as he starts to rut into you, quickening his pace. "So good... so good, " He mumbles into the crook of your neck.
You feel the heat start to pool in the base of your stomach and dig your nails into his back. "Harder Michael" You demand.
He ruts into you harder and whines. "Oh god, oh god"
You feel him batter the spongey spot inside of you and arch your back, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. "Faster"
"Oh shit, oh shit." He moves faster, and his legs start to tremble at the sheer force he is using. "I'm not gonna make it, fuck I-" He groans loudly. "Oh God"
"Not yet, Michael. Don't you dare." You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder. "You cum when I say so"
He nods furiously. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He pants heavily and whines into the crook of your neck.
You clench your legs tightly around him as you are overcome by your climax. "Fuckkkk, good boy!"
"Please, please." He pants and whimpers.
"Just a little longer." You pull his face towards you and gently kiss him as he whimpers into your mouth. You smile at the thought that you were able to get the power back.
"Cum Michael, you can cum now"
He yells out as he grips your hips tightly rutting into you roughly a few more times before his entire body stiffens and he gasps. "Thank you, Thank you"
He collapses on top of you resting his forehead against your chest, as you stroke his hair.
"Shhh Michael, shh," you coo as he pants into your chest.
"You're mine now"
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#michael gavey x you#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey smut#michael gavey#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan nation#ewanverse#saltburn fanfiction#Michael Gavey X Reader#Michael Gavey#ewan mitchell verse#ewan mitchell#saltburn movie#saltburn#jess fics#my smarty pants bf
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'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 2)
a/n: part 2 of cherry bomb is here! i want to thank you again for the likes, comments and reblogs on the first part, it really means a lot and i'm glad you liked it ♡ there will be a third part, lmk if you'd like to be tagged. enjoy!
Summary: After thanking Michael for what he did for you, you can't stop thinking about how much you desire him, how much you want him. And you always get what you want.
Words: 4000ish
Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, reader being an absolute menace!, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, handjob, lots of dirty talk, masturbation (f and m), teasing/sex in public, cum eating
And touch yourself indeed you do.
As soon as you return to your dorm you immediately lie back on your bed, hike up your skirt and pull your lace panties aside. You hiss when your fingertips graze your wet folds, sucking Michael Gavey’s dick having this effect on you.
Seeing Michael Gavey squirm under your touch and hearing him whimper and moan has this effect on you.
You rub your swollen clit with your index and middle finger, feeling your entire body on fire. You lazily lower your hand until you feel your cunt practically sucking your fingers in, your arousal making it easier for you to start pumping them in and out of you as whines and soft moans escape your lips.
Your chest heaves with your breathing, you close your eyes as you remember the feeling of Michael’s lips moving against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth frantically, his gaze on you as you lowered your body to kneel in front of him, how beautiful he sounded when your mouth wrapped around his cock, how heavy it felt in your mouth. You can’t wait until having him like that again.
You play with your tits with your other hand, feeling your nipples harden when you pinch them. You never stop thinking about Michael and his large, veiny hands. You picture him caressing your body, squeezing your breasts and maybe even choking you. His long, slender fingers inside your cunt, reaching that spot inside you that makes you see stars.
The room is filled with the wet, lewd sounds of your cunt and your curses and breathy moans. Your walls clench around your fingers, your orgasm approaching as you pump them faster, curling them to reach the most sensitive spot inside you. The heel of your palm presses against your swollen clit repeatedly, making you gasp. You reach your peak with a muffled moan, careful not to be heard.
With your eyes closed you try to catch your breath, wave after wave of pleasure running through your body. You slide your fingers out of your pussy and lick them, tasting your own arousal.
You don’t know what Michael did to you, but you want him. And you always get what you want.
The next day you don’t see Michael until lunch time. He’s sitting alone, like he always does. You sit on the chair in front of him, hoping to be noticed but he doesn’t even lift his head, too focused on finishing his salad.
You clear your throat and with a honeyed voice you say his name. “Hi there, Michael.”
You see how his eyes widen for a moment before swallowing his food hard. “H-hi.” He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth. “I didn’t see you there, sorry.”
“It’s okay baby” the pet name you give him makes him feel goosebumps. You have your legs crossed under the table, your foot drawing circles in the air. “Are you busy today?”
“Uhm yeah I… I have to study. Have a maths quiz tomorrow” he replies as he finishes his salad and wipes his mouth again.
“Oh, but you don’t need to study, Mikey” you lean in and place one hand on top of his. His hands are significantly bigger than yours, and that awakens something inside you. “You’re so smart.” You uncross your legs and with the help of your left foot, you take your right shoe off.
Michael’s eyes widen when he feels your bare foot creeping up his leg, making its way up. “You should relax a little bit, Mikey. Loosen up, have fun.” You tilt your head as you keep moving your foot, thankful for the long tablecloth. “I have a few ideas, you know?”
He gasps when your foot presses against his crotch. “Fuck” he curses under his breath, fists clenching as he tries to compose himself. He gives you a deadly look, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. This only adds to your desire for him.
You decide to have some mercy for the poor guy, so you lower your foot and start eating your meal as if nothing happened. Michael lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting in his seat as he tries to hide his obvious erection under the tablecloth. This can’t be fucking happening.
You try to hide a smile, eating your delicious pasta with bechamel sauce while wicked ideas cross your mind.
You eat the last forkful of pasta, letting some sauce drip down the corner of your mouth. “Mmm, delicious” your soft moan catches Michael’s attention, sucking in his breath as you wipe your mouth, looking at him.
He shakes his head and stands up quickly, abandoning the hall. You chuckle and take a sip of water, already planning your next encounter with him.
Michael slams the door of his dorm and quickly gets rid of his pants, cursing when he sees the wet patch near the tip. He rests his head against the door, closing his eyes as he pumps his cock through his boxers.
“F-fuck…” he’s so painfully hard, he can explode at any moment if he doesn’t take care of it soon. His mind travels to the day before, when you were kneeling between his legs with his cock in your mouth. That night, a few hours after you left, he jerked off to the thought of you, again.
He’s done that a couple of times, he has to admit. Ever since the day he saw you for the first time, how sweetly you talked to him and how nice his name sounded from your lips. He should be ashamed of behaving like a horny teenager, but fuck it. The way you looked at him, how you talked to him, straight out of his dreams.
You’re fucking dangerous to him; he knows it, and you know it too.
He takes off his boxers, spits in his hand and immediately wraps it around his cock, whining at the contact. He wishes it’s your mouth though, warm, wet and welcoming. He wonders if that’s how your cunt would feel too, maybe tighter.
His hand works up and down, wet sounds filling the room as he remembers how wet you were from just sucking his cock, how you touched yourself while your mouth was on him. He’s not going to last long, not when he’s thinking about your moans and whimpers.
He speeds up the movement of his hand, chest heaving and gritted teeth, closer and closer to his orgasm.
He even wonders if you touched yourself like you said you would, picturing you pleasuring yourself while thinking of him is what makes him explode. He hisses out your name as he comes, hot ropes of spend coating his lower stomach, cock twitching in his palm.
Michael takes a few moments to catch his breath, looking at the mess he made. When he finally softens, he goes to the toilet and cleans himself, grabbing a new pair of clean boxers to put on. After all, he has one more lecture to end the day. Hopefully, that would keep him busy.
He can’t let anything distract him from his studies, especially not you.
With your books in hand, you enter the library. It’s almost noon, so it’s not too crowded, most of the students in their rooms, most likely.
You’re there to look for Michael, of course, also to study but mostly for Michael. The way he looked at you earlier, that menacing look on his face did nothing but turn you on. You want to unleash the beast that he probably is, you’re not stopping until Michael Gavey is in your bed.
You spot him reading and making some notes on an empty desk at the end of the library, so you take a seat on the other side of the desk.
He notices you immediately, the smell of your perfume invading his nostrils. You see him swallow hard, nodding at you when you say hi.
You open your books and start reading, actually focusing on the written words despite having Michael near you. Plus, you teased him enough earlier, poor chap had to run to his dorm to jerk off, because of course he did.
After teasing him during lunch you felt somewhat… terrible. A tiny voice in your head is constantly bothering you, telling you that what you are doing is wrong. Michael’s not like the guys you typically date or have sex with, and not only because he’s a virgin.
Everyone says Michael Gavey is an insufferable, full of himself and creepy guy, and even though you don’t know him 100%, you wouldn’t say that it's true. He can be complicated at times, but that doesn’t make him a totally awful person. He’s rather sweet when he wants to, adorable too.
You don’t want him to feel used, even though you’re not doing that. You’re just acting on your desires, and you know he craves you as well. He’s just playing hard to get. And that’s what makes him different from the rest, that’s why you want him.
Almost two hours pass by, and the library is empty except for the two of you. You look around, just in case, and close your book with a loud noise. He doesn’t even flinch, too absorbed in his reading as you make your way towards him.
“Hello Mike” he looks up from his book and takes in your appearance. He audibly gasps at the sight of you in your black skirt and black knee high socks, lips curved into a smile. He leans back in his chair when you hop on the desk in front of him, looking up at you like a deer in headlights. “How did the study session go?” You ask as you rest the palm of your hands on the surface of the table, supporting your weight as you lean back and tilt your head.
Michael presses his lips and blinks. “It went well. I’m more than ready for the quiz.”
“I knew it. I told you before, Michael, you’re really smart. I like smart guys” you lean forward again, speaking in a low and feathery voice.
You hear him gulp. “Oh, uhm, I actually have to go, so” he tries to stand up but you press your foot against his chest, forcing him to sit down. He looks at you with a dumbfounded expression.
You frown. “What are you constantly running away from me, Mike? You don’t want my company?” you stretch your leg, pushing him as he shakes his head.
“N-no, it’s just…” he licks his lips, trying to find the correct words. “You’re dangerous to me. You tempt me so much” he admits with a sigh. You smile.
“Well, baby, sometimes we just have to surrender to our desires… as I’m doing with you. I told you, Michael. You have no idea how much I want you…” your eyes never leave his face, watching as his pupils darken with lust. His eyes follow the movement of your hands, caressing your thighs as you open your legs.
“Yesterday, after you tutored me, I returned to my dorm and I touched myself, Mikey…” his eyes widen and he yelps. “I told you I would finger myself until I came, and that’s what I did, baby… I pleasured myself thinking about you… I was so wet and tight” you bite your lip as your hand creeps up your inner thigh, Michael’s breath catching in his lungs. “I’m wet right now, Michael. Would you like to see how wet you make me? Would you like to feel how tight I am?”
Michael can only nod eagerly, mouth watering at the thought of touching your pussy, his already hard cock straining against his cargo pants. When you get his confirmation, you open your legs even more, but he stops you. “Wait. We cannot… I mean, we’re in the library” he whispers, looking at you like you were a mad woman.
You giggle. “Relax, baby. We are the only ones here. No one ever comes here at this hour, right? And we’re at the very end of the library… if someone enters, we’ll hear footsteps and we’ll know.” You reassure him with a warm smile, and he can’t reject you.
“O- okay… but I… I don’t know how to…”
“Shh, I told you I would teach you, remember? And I’m sure you’ll learn really fast. Now come closer, get on your knees.” Michael quickly obeys your orders, and gets on his knees before you, face right in front of your clothed pussy. “Good boy.” You hike up your skirt, giving him a sight of your cotton pink thong.
“Shit…” he mutters when he sees the wet spot, your arousal evident.
“I know… and it’s because of you.” He lets out a soft whine, afraid that your words alone could make him cum in his pants. “Now, take off my underwear.” His hands shake when he does so, clearly nervous and excited to touch you properly. He examines your dripping pussy with his jaw dropped. You move your legs up, feet pressed against the surface of the desk, completely exposed to him.
“Fuck, you’re dripping… what should I do?” he asks with genuine intrigue, eager to learn.
"Give me your hand" you lean in to grab his hand and guide it towards your cunt, his fingers tracing your clit. “Touch me there. It’s my clit”
He marvels at how you gasp when he touches you, his fingers drawing gentle circles over your bud. “Is this okay?” When you nod he continues touching you with his index finger, paying attention to your reaction.
“You start slowly, then you can add a bit more pressure and go faster… fuck, right there…” you breath, small whimpers leaving your lips. He continues touching you adding more pressure when your whimpers turn into moans. “Oh, shit, yes Michael” you throw your head back, his touches setting your whole body on fire. “Please, put your fingers in me” you plead and he nods again, following your instructions.
“Holy fuck you’re so wet and tight” he moans when he pushes two of them inside your slickness, watching how they disappear in your cunt, coated in your arousal.
“Hmm, your fingers are so good Michael. Move them please, curl them a little b- fffuck, just like that” you gasp when you feel his long, slender fingers find your sensitive spot with ease. “Touch my clit with your thumb… yes, yes, like that” Michael’s a quick study, you realised. He’s driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, you’re gonna make me cum.”
Michael smirks proudly, looking at your face contorted in pleasure. He can feel how you get tighter around his fingers, his cock twitching at the feeling.
“I wanna taste you… please, let me taste you” he begs. “Want you to cum in my mouth.”
If that isn't the hottest thing you’ve heard him say. You bite your lip and nod. “How can I say no to that?” You let your legs hang off the desk and proceed to instruct him on what to do next. “You can kiss me there, then you can lick all the way up to my clit, and then- oh!” you throw your head back as Michael’s tongue flattens against your entrance, licking you gently as his hands hold your thighs apart. You watch with mouth open as he devours your cunt, his nose rubbing at your bud repeatedly as he tongue-fucks you. His gaze is focused on you, you bring a hand to his head, pulling him closer as you chase your orgasm. “Yes, yes, Michael don’t stop!”
A moan from his lips sends vibrations to your cunt and you come with a loud cry of his name, the obscene slurping sounds he makes adding to the sensation.
Michael doesn’t let a drop go to waste, licking all your juices eagerly. He moans at your taste. “Fuck, that was so fucking hot, you taste so good.”
You look at him though hooded eyes, his chin shining with your arousal and his glasses all fogged up. He stands up from the floor, and wipes his mouth and chin with his hand. “Gods, Michael… that was amazing…”
“Really?”
“Yes, you learned very quickly” you chuckle and jump off the table, leaning in to kiss him. You can taste yourself in his mouth. You pull back to caress his cheek and he leans into your touch, your heart melting. What’s happening to you?
He hands you your underwear, which you put on quickly. He stays there, rubbing his hands together.
“Uhm… can we do this again? I-I really liked this…”
You grin. “We can definitely do this again… but not here. You can come to my place” you ask as you fix your skirt and stockings.
Again, his eyes widen. “Now?”
“Not necessarily, baby. Let’s take it slow, yeah? But if you want, I can help you with this…” you point at the evident bulge in his pants. He immediately blushes and chuckles, shaking his head.
“Oh, uhm… sorry about that.” He apologises as he tries to cover it, but you stop him by grabbing his wrist.
“Don’t feel ashamed, Mikey. It’s flattering, knowing that I get you this hard.” You look at him into his eyes, you can hear his heavy breathing and notice his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Do I make you this nervous?”
“I told you… you’re dangerous to me.” he breathes and raises an eyebrow. “And you’re also a fucking tease, did you know that?”
You gasp and point at yourself with your finger, feigning innocence. “Me? How am I a tease?” you ask, reaching for his belt with your hands, your eyes fixed on his.
“You know exactly what you’re doing… today during lunch, for example.” He explains, his eyelids heavy as your hands neatly undo his pants, letting them fall with a clicky sound, the metal of the belt hitting the wooden floor.
“What did I do during lunch? I can’t recall” you tease him as your fingertips trace the line of his hard cock through his boxers, biting your lip when you feel a wet spot there.
“You were teasing me, touching my leg and all under the table” Michael’s voice is low and raspy, stirring something inside you.
“Did I? I truly don’t remember doing that” he curses when your hand slides under his boxers, wrapping around his shaft.
“I- I was so hard I had to run and…”
“And?” You know exactly what he’s trying to say, but you want to hear it from his lips. When you don’t get an answer, you stop your movements.
“Fuck, I ran to my dorm and had a wank” He hisses with eyes closed and you continue your ministrations, your thumb stimulating his weeping tip.
“Oh, really? You jerked off thinking about me?” You lean in and start kissing his neck, leaving kisses along his clenched jaw.
“Y-yes. Not the first time” he throws his head back, leaving you more space to kiss and lick.
“No? How many times did you do it?”
“M-many times… since the very first d-day I saw you… shit” he bucks his hips trying to get more friction, but you keep going at your own speed, enjoying how putty he was in your hands.
“Hmm, so you fuck your hand thinking about me, and what do you picture? Tell me” you whisper in his ear, feeling his chest pressing against your tits.
“Oh, fuck… I think about you… your mouth around my cock… your hands all over me” you can already feel him twitching in your hand, a small drop of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead. “I’m not gonna last long, please.” Michael sobs, eyes shut as you continue moving your hand up and down, slowly, torturing him. “Please, I need you to go faster”.
“I won’t go faster until you tell me exactly what you think about when you pleasure yourself, Michael” you demand, making him shiver.
He clenches his jaw, his chest heaving as he tries to speak. “I imagine how your cunt would feel around my cock… I imagine myself fucking you, your moans and whimpers… fuck, fuck, don’t stop I’m s-so close” he begs, unable to hold it any longer. Happy with his answer, you start moving your hand faster.
“Come on, Michael. Cum for me, baby, let go” you watch as he comes with a soft whine followed by a moan of your name, his brows furrowed and cheeks flushed as his orgasm washes over him. Seeing him like that is so hot.
When he finally comes down from his high he opens his eyes, finding your hungry gaze. He looks down and sees his now cum stained boxers. “Fuck” he whispers at the sight of the mess he made in your hand as well, and curses again when you lick your hand.
Then, you lean in and kiss his cheek. “Good job, baby. You did so well for me” you purr, his heart pounding when you praise him. “I should get going. Remember, you’re more than welcome to enter my dorm. I’ll be waiting” you wink at him and gather your stuff, holding your books under your arm, heading off to your dorm.
Michael watches you leave, still not believing what just happened. He puts his cargo pants back and takes his books, putting them inside his bag. He thinks about the cold shower he would have to take as soon as he steps foot into his room.
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#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x you#michael gavey smut#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey saltburn#saltburn#saltburn fanfiction#ewan mitchell#ewanverse#ewan mitchell fic#mydemimondewrites
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Study Buddy (1)
Michael Gavey x reader
Summary: when study partners are assigned, Michael - much to the envy of the boys in their class (and the girls) - is given (y/n) as his partner, but he might be the only one in the class who didn't want it.
Warnings: swearing like once, some sexual references at the end
Word count: 1.1K
A/N: hey hotties, sorry this one is short, I'm hoping to do a few parts so if you have any ideas or comments let me know :p
ʚ♡ɞ “NOW, I WANT to encourage you all to socialise a little more," Professor Wickes announces in his gruff voice, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses back up his aquiline nose, sighing as he rests his aging palms against the top of his monogamy desk, "as, well... you could all use it."
The class of introverted - for lack of a better word - maths nerds stare back at him, scowling a little at his words, but not protesting.
"Besides, your next exam is worth a fair amount, so I want to make sure you're all sharp." He continues, sitting down in his seat with a sigh,
"We've allocated you all a..." he looks down at the paper in his hand and sighs, closing his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks up at the other man in the room, Professor Müller - an overly enthusiastic, young, recent graduate who had become head of something or other involved in initiatives to improve this or that. "You seriously want me to call it that?" Professor Wickes asks, looking at Professor Müller, who nods with enthusiasm. Professor Wickes sighs and mumbles something under his breath before continuing, A study buddy... we've allocated you all a... study buddy."
The students all glance around the room, their eyes landing on (y/n) - mostly the boys - with suppressed giddy grins and shy waves, eyes running up and down her. She scowls a little and scoffs, sliding further into her seat a little, arms folded over her chest as she tries to cover it a little, noticing one boy - Thomas Roland - staring at them.
Your tutorial groups will now also be a little different, they will be with just you and your study partner - only until the exam." Professor Wilkes explains, putting down a sheet of paper on his desk, "come and look then."
The students, notably the boys, practically shoot out of their seats, rushing to read it. After a few seconds, they turn with scowls. Their eyes all fix on a figure sat at the table in the back corner of the room, head down, hand writing furiously against his notebook. At the feeling of their stares, he lifts his head, adjusting his glasses.
“What?" Asks Michael.
Their eyes then trail to (y/n), sat in her seat, phone out, laughing to herself at something someone said, twirling a strand of her hair, crossing and uncrossing her legs to adjust her leather skirt and tights. She, too, feels their stares and looks up.
"What?"
"Are you free this afternoon?" (Y/n) asks, trailing behind Michael, who is walking quickly through the corridors of Magdalen College.
"No."
“This evening?" She continues, having to run a little to catch up, the heels of her leather boots clicking against the stone floors as she does.
"No.”
She sighs, "tomorrow?"
"No."
"When then?"
She sighs and speeds up so she's stood in front of him, stopping him from walking. He sighs and rolls his eyes, his grip tightening on his textbook that's clutched to his chest.
"Why don't you want to study with me? Do you not like me or something?" (Y/n) asks, a confused furrowing of her brows adorning her face, "I mean... sorry if I, like, give a bad vibe or something.”
He scoffs at her words and rolls his eyes again.
"See!" She says at his scoff and eye rolling, "you have a problem with me."
“I don't have a problem with you, I have a problem with... your kind." Michael replies.
"My... kind?" An amused smile and raised eyebrows form on her face, "please tell me you aren't one of those guys who are always like 'ugh society... nice guys.... females..’”
Michael blushes, "No. But 'female’ is the correct ter-"
"Oh, my God, please stop before I gag." (Y/n) replies with a grimace, "let's not.”
He rolls his eyes and tries to walk past her. (Y/n) sighs and holds her hands up, "Come on, it's just a couple of study sessions. We don't even have to talk, just a chill vi-" she's about to say vibe, but feels his incoming scoff, "atmosphere."
He sighs.
"Look, an hour, tops. She says, "besides." she pauses a moment, her eyes looking up as she seemingly finds the courage to continue, "I could.. I could actually use some study help.”
“..."
Michael's eyebrow raises a little, "you?"
"Yes."
"Need help?"
"Yep."
"From... me?"
"No, that random guy there. She says sarcastically, pointing to some passing student who looks at her and back steps, thinking she was calling him over, "no-sorry, no, I.. she apologises to the student and sighs, "just... nothing." The student looks at her weirdly before continuing on his way down the corridor.
"Just... please?" She asks, turning back to Michael.
He's silent a moment. He's considering it.
"I work alone."
She closes her eyes and takes a breath, "please?" (Y/n) thinks to herself and then continues, "I’ll give you something in return. I could pay you? Like a tutor?"
"I don't need money"
"You're a student of course you need money.”
"I don't want money."
She groans, "Well I'm not going to fuck you."
Michael's eyes widen and he blushes deeply, flustered, "Well... I don't want you to."
"What do you want then?"
He thinks again. He could ask for... no, that's too shallow. Too stupid. It would go against everything he stands for, it would compromise his values and his inte-
"Get me invited to a party."
She raises a brow at the request. But she nods.
"Okay, deal"
Michael kicks himself internally, pissed at himself for asking for such a shallow thing - but he also can't ignore the little spark of excitement that flickers in his tummy too. He composes himself and nods, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"I'm... I'm free now, if you want to get it over with." Michael suggests.
"I thought you were busy?" (Y/n) asks with a grin.
“...shut up."
They start to walk. She laughs and links her arm with his, "lead the way.”
He quickly moves away, pushing her arm off and hugging his textbook tighter, "don't touch me."
“Why? Worried you'll get hard?"
He blushes deeply and scoffs, turning his head and stepping further away from her. But he doesn't reply.
He blushes deeply and scoffs, turning his head and stepping further away from her. But he doesn't reply.
"Oh, my God, you are such a virgin!"
"Shut up." ʚ♡ɞ
#saltburn#saltburn fanfiction#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey x you#x reader#fanfiction#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader
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