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aemstarg · 4 months

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Ahhhhh it’s perfect!! I love you so much!! 💜💜

"Reasons To Cry" - Michael Gavey x Catton!Reader + Onesided!Oliver Quick x Catton!Reader

a/n: from an anon request for michael gavey x catton!reader + dacryphilia hehehe. reader is bimbo coded 🩷

Summary: Felix doesn't think Michael is good enough for you, but you can't bring yourself to care.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, dacryphilia, oral f receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, unknowing exhibitionism

Word Count: 2,275 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You love your brother, but sometimes? The man drives you absolutely fucking insane. Felix has always been rather overprotective of you, his little twin sister, chasing away any boys who came sniffing around, claiming that they weren’t good enough for you. You’ve never so much as had a boyfriend, barely even managing to hook up with a boy before you started at uni. You wish your application had been submitted to Cambridge rather than to Oxford, that you could’ve had a chance to learn who you are without your twin. The two of you have been so deeply ingrained in each other’s lives since your birth, that sometimes it feels hard to tell which of your thoughts are your own and which are ones you’ve merely taken from Felix.

But, as luck would have it - and to Felix’s delight, the pair of you are accepted at Oxford, along with Farleigh. You know that between the two of them standing at your side like a pair of feral guard dogs, you’re never going to be able to have the university romance you dreamed of when you watched all those silly American “chick flicks”. Some boy finding you, sweeping you off your feet, stealing kisses in the library, sneaking into your room. You rue the loss of this romance before it could even begin.

At first, you’re drawn to Felix’s new friend, Ollie. He’s cute, you think, and he seems rather interested in you. But there’s something that unsettles you in the way he looks at you. You don’t know what it is, and when you try to bring it up to Felix, he surprisingly brushes it off as you just being shy. But that’s the thing. You’ve never been shy. You just have a gut feeling. Farleigh seems to share it, though he doesn’t say anything to you. So, instead of engaging with Ollie, you pull away from the group a little bit.

That’s when you meet him.

Michael Gavey.

He’s a former friend of Oliver’s, you learn when the two of you are partnered for a presentation in your statistics class. At first, he comes off as rather snide, and as Farleigh would so eloquently put it, “cunty”. When he hears your last name called, you can hear the little scoff under his breath, see the roll of his eyes. You walk over to him, dressed in your pink plaid skirt, your white sweater, with a friendly smile on your face. He eyes you up and down, scrutinizing, arching a brow when his gaze lands on the pink Converse you’re wearing. Someone doesn’t seem to be a fan of color. It’s not your fault you love pink.

Michael is cold to you at first, but ever so slowly, he opens up to you when he realizes that, despite not matching his intelligence, you’re willing to put in just as much work into the project that he is. You may be ditzy and slow to catch onto things, your head in the clouds, but you’re sweet. You’re kind and you don’t seem to think of yourself as better than him simply because you’re a Catton. That goes to your credit, and eventually? He stops being such a cunt. He comes to fancy you first, truth be told, but it develops into something deeper than that. Slowly, he starts considering you as something he’s never truly had.

A friend.

For your part, you adore Michael. You find his view on things to be interesting and refreshing. He opens your eyes to the fact that there’s an entire world beyond the one you grew up in. And you’d be remiss to say that you don’t find him attractive. Because, God, you do. You’ve never had a crush this bad. The way you twirl your hair and giggle at everything he says, feeling like a total idiot, the way you feel the heat rise to your cheeks when he looks at you as the two of you study together. You love the awkward little way he laughs, the way he blushes every time your hand brushes against his when you walk. And it makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he wants you too.

So, with little hesitancy, you invite your new friend to spend the summer with your family at your country house. You giggle shyly, covering your face as you bounce up and down on the balls of your feet when Michael teases you for being rich enough to even have a family estate, but he quickly agrees to accompany you, saying he’d love to spend the summer with a new friend. His face sours when he sees that your brother has invited Oliver, but he does his best to ignore the bootlicking cunt and spend time with you, as he intended.

Michael is surprisingly polite when he meets your parents. You half expected him to make some quip about their lavish lifestyle, but he manages to remain prim and proper. Your mother couldn’t give less of a shit about Michael, dismissing him early on in favor of fawning over Ollie. It irritates you but you’re quite happy when your father seems to take a liking to your guest. You know Michael is far from being charming, but somehow, he manages to get your father to like him.

The main person he doesn’t win over, however, is Felix. Your brother pulls you aside one night after dinner for a chat. You, him, and Venetia. You sit on the bed as your older brother and sister begin lecturing you on how Michael isn’t a good fit for you, how he seems so condescending, how you two have nothing in common. Felix mentions that he wishes you’d go out with someone like Ollie, and you see the way Venetia stiffens at the suggestion. You brush that off and glare up at the both of them, crossing your arms and sticking out your chin defiantly.

“I’m not a little girl. If I like Michael, I like Michael. Sure, he’s condescending and a bit of an arse, but guess what? He’s the most real, genuine person I’ve ever met in my entire life. So the two of you and Mum can spend your time getting caught in Oliver fucking Quick’s nasty little web. I’m not having any of it-”

“Don’t talk about Ollie like that-”

“Oh, shut up, Felix!” You snap, storming out of his room with tears of anger rolling down your face, seeing both of the males in question standing outside, listening in on your rather loud argument. You look between the two of them, nostrils flaring with annoyance, before grabbing Michael by the hand and dragging him to your bedroom, “All of you can kiss my arse.”

You ignore the sounds of your brother and sister calling after you, Farleigh popping his head out and asking what the fuck is going on. Michael opens his mouth to ask the same, but all you do is grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down towards you, pressing your lips against his in a desperate, sloppy kiss. His eyes go wide as he stares down at you, fully frozen in shock for a long moment, pin drop silence in the hallway of Saltburn. But then, you feel his hand move to the back of your head, pulling you in closer, his body pressed up against yours as he begins to kiss you back. And it’s everything both of you have been dreaming of for the last several months.

When you finally pull apart for air, you just gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Michael’s normally sharp gaze is hazy and uncharacteristically soft as he stares at you, allowing you to pull him into your childhood room, locking the door behind you. Michael moves closer to you, wiping the tears that still pour down your face. He rests his forehead against yours, cupping your cheeks in his hand.

“Let me make you cry for a better reason.”

You gaze up at him through your lashes and nod silently, your lips meeting his once again in a passionate kiss. You run your hands through his hair, moaning against him, feeling his cock grinding against the thin cotton fabric of your panties. The fact that he’s this hard already makes you feel so fucking powerful, that you were able to do this to him. He grinds himself against you, his breath coming out in soft pants between your kisses, hands moving to grope at your tits. You whine, bucking your hips up against him, pleading for him to get these fucking clothes off of you.

Michael acquiesces, the two of you ripping at each other’s clothes, your little pink gingham sundress falling in a crumpled heap to the ground along with his shirt and trousers, leaving the two of you in only your underwear. Michael’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull at the sight of you not wearing a bra, his mouth going dry. You give him a coy little smile, taking his hands and bringing them to your tits, whimpering softly as he kneads them in his palms. You let out a loud whine of his name as he pinches one of your nipples, his lips twisting into a cocky smile at the way it pebbles against him.

“Need to be quieter than that, love,” he coos mockingly, “Don’t want to wake your Mum up, do you? Do I need to cover that cute little mouth while I fuck you into the mattress?”

His words have you rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he moves to sit back on his haunches between them. Your fingers twist in the sheets as he mouths at your wet cunt over the fabric of your panties, nuzzling his nose against your clit. You grind your hips against his face, desperate for him to just fucking do something, but he just runs his tongue along your pussy over the fabric of your panties, tugging at them to stimulate you. You can feel the sweat beading at your temples as he finally pushes them aside, burying his tongue inside you. It feels fucking incredible, the way he drags the muscle along your walls, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he does, bringing you closer and closer to your peak. Your toes curl, your stomach growing tight as you teeter on the precipice of your climax, but then? He pulls away. You stare up at him, annoyed.

“What the fuck, Michael?!”

“Want you to cum on my cock, love.”

The words are so simple and he says them so plainly, but you don’t think you’ve ever been more turned on in your life. You watch as he rids himself of his boxers, palming at his cock before tugging your panties down your thighs. You watch as he joins your bodies, pushing inside of you, his jaw slack, glasses fogging with how heavy he’s breathing. His gaze is hazy and unfocused as he bottoms out inside of you, feeling you so warm and tight around him. It takes everything in him not to cum then and there. He balances himself on his elbows, leaning over you, letting you adjust to him for a moment, pressing a kiss to your temple. Your eyes water, unused to the sensation, feeling his lips move to kiss your tears away.

Michael can’t think of anything more beautiful than you, his sweet little friend, crying at the feeling of being split open on his cock. You’re so precious, so innocent. He’s going to take so much pleasure in watching you come undone. He begins to fuck you in earnest, his hips snapping against yours as he gazes down at you, feeling your body tense around him with every thrust, your eyes rolling back as you continue crying out his name. He smirks and moves a hand to cover your mouth, whispering in your ear.

“We’ve got to keep quiet, love. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for me?”

You nod, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as Michael continues fucking you, the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot with every movement of his hips. You whimper and mewl his name against his hand, your body writhing against his own. You look so fucking pretty like this, your chest heaving with exertion, face covered with a thin sheen of sweat as he pounds into you, hips canting against yours faster and faster, feeling you squeezing like a vice around him, your eyes still shiny with tears and spurring him on. Your breaths come faster and faster as do his own, his voice a low rasp in your ear.

“Are you close?”

You nod, his hand still covering your mouth, scrunching your eyes shut as your climax overtakes you, pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave, so intense that all you can do is lay there as Michael reaches his own peak with a loud groan of your name. He collapses against you, the two of you laying there in your childhood bed, arms wrapped around each other, bodies trembling as you come down from your respective highs.

You hear a commotion at the door, like someone running, but you ignore it, eyes drooping with sleep as you slowly fade from the waking world.

Meanwhile, Oliver races back to his room, wondering just how in the world he’s going to have his turn with you, his hands covered with the evidence of what he’s done, the way he stroked his cock to the sound of your sweet little moans.

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