#barry keoghan and you

[thefallennightmare]

Broken-four

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest*

Pairings: Barry Keoghan x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, implied smut, mentions of alcoholism and death.

Summary: A failed marriage wasn't in the cards for Reader, she thought she found her happily ever after with Barry. While trying to overcome the heartbreak, a tragic event brings them back together temporarily. Will the devastating loss bring them back together or be what pushes them apart for good?

Authors Note: Even if no one is reading this, I'm still continuing it because I like to read it back.

Birds chirping melded with the sounds of soft sobs as I stood broken, eyes boring into the large hole in the ground, the two caskets being lowered down slowly. There wasn’t anyone around me, opting to let me mourn my parents' solo, and I was thankful for that because I didn’t want them to see the way my body swayed or smelled the alcohol on my breath. 

Tears welled in my eyes as the caskets fell deeper into the ground and once it was out of sight, the wall I had built to protect me from the last couple days finally shattered. My shoulders shook as the sobs washed over me, small screams of my pain echoing through the large, open area of the cemetery. 

No one made a move, unsure what to do to console me, as my entire world crumbled six feet below. My knees buckled and as I prepared myself for hitting the ground, strong arms wrapped around me to hold me up. His large hand pressed circles on my back while his soft voice cooed in my ear. 

“I got ya. It’s a’right. I’m right here.” 

I buried my face into Barry’s chest, his familiar scent lingering in my senses, and my arms wrapped around him tight. 

“They can’t be gone,” I sobbed. “I have no one left.” Barry hushed me by placing a gentle kiss on my hairline. “I’m here, grá.”

Wet eyes stared up at him when I heard the all too familiar word utter from his lips. 

Grá.

Love. 

He used to call me that all the time when we first got together, the pet name faltering from Barry’s vocabulary so long ago. He knew the way it affected me, I could see it in the way his face softened, an apology spewing from his mouth. 

“Force of habit,” he sighed. 

I looked back to the ground, still in his embrace, and the two of us watched the dirt fill up the grave. Everyone else around me had slowly begun to leave, not wanting to get in between Barry and I. 

Soon, we were the only two left and that was when Barry gently squeezed my shoulder. 

“It’s time, Y/N.” 

I shook my head, weak, unable to say anything. 

“Come on, I’ll take ya back home,” he said. 

“I don’t have a home,” I murmured, broken. 

A sorrowful sigh fell from Barry’s lips before he began leading me away from the now buried grave and towards his car, not allowing me to fight against him. To be honest, I had no energy to do that. I was beyond mentally drained and the only thing I wanted to do was crawl away underneath a blanket and sleep away the rest of the day. 

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned turning over in bed. 

The setting sun was blasting its rays through the curtains of my childhood bedroom and it felt as if my brain was being squeezed tight, the hangover from the last few days raging to life. 

I ran my hands over my face, letting out a few deep breaths to give myself a sort of pep talk to rise from bed. The growling in my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything in a while but I wasn’t sure if the sickness I felt washing over me was because of that or the previous hangover. 

The rest of the day had been a blur, the only thing I really remember was Barry bringing me back to my parents house after the funeral and I fought against him as he tried to bring me inside. 

“You’re drunk, Y/N.” 

I pushed him away, stumbling up the concrete steps. “Fuck you, Barry. I’m fine.” 

He watched me with disappointment in his eyes and I nearly tripped over my feet while walking in the house, the door slamming behind me. 

I wasn’t sure how I made it safely in bed but didn’t dwell on it for long as I rolled out of bed, my feet dragging down the short hallway. I came to a sudden halt at the sight in front of me. Barry was in the kitchen, towel tossed over his shoulder, as he was finishing up cooking a rather large meal, my favorite meal. 

His eyes fell on me, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Oh, good. You’re awake. I was about to come check on ya.” 

I pointed to the two plates on the table, surrounded by the steaming food. “What’s this?” 

“Figured you’d need something in your stomach to fight that hangover,” Barry informed. 

“You didn’t leave?” I asked, unmoving. 

Barry nodded towards the table. “Sit.” 

“I’m not hungry,” I lied. 

Then the heavens above wanted to laugh at my expense because my stomach growled, loudly, and Barry simply raised a brow at me. 

“Sit, now.” 

With a sigh, I obeyed and sat at the far end of the table and watched as he placed food on my plate and pointed to it. 

“I want ya to eat half of that at least,” Barry ordered. 

“Yes, dad,” I grumbled while stuffing my face with the food. 

Oh, how I missed his cooking. 

He was always the chef in the relationship. 

Barry sat across from me and we ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the grandfather clock ticking away from its place in the living room and our forks scraping against the plates. 

He slid over a tall glass of water to me and I didn’t bother fighting him against it, knowing that he wouldn’t allow me to have even a sip of alcohol. 

“How’s the hangover?” Barry asked while grabbing our empty plates from the table. 

I shrugged. “I’ve had worse.” 

He hummed in response then began cleaning the kitchen as my eyes trained hard on his form, seeing the way his back muscles tensed underneath his shirt brought back so many memories. Most of them being us tangled together in the sheets. 

I shifted in my seat, hoping it would scratch the itch I felt burning low in my core. 

“Barry?” My voice came out quiet, the sudden question nagging inside my head. 

“Ya?”

He didn’t bother to look away from the sink full of dishes that he had been washing. 

“Why did you stay? I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on right now,” I asked. 

His actions halted briefly and finally locked eyes with me. “If I’m being honest, Y/N, I planned on leaving after the wake but when I realized that you were drinking again I knew that I couldn’t leave ya; not yet.” 

I cracked my knuckles under the table, a nervous habit, and sighed. “I relapsed, it’s fine. I can get sober again, I’ve done it before.” 

With the last few plates washed, Barry set them to the side and dried his hands, leaning against the counter. 

“Cause I was there for ya.” 

I scoffed. “Oh, and now you are? Let's be real, Barry. You’re only here because my parents died, you said it yourself.” 

“Y/N,” he started. 

The chair scraped against the hardwood floor as I stood, not wanting to get into this fight with him. 

“I’m not dealing with this right now,” I said. 

I tried to make a break for the front door, needing some fresh air but Barry knew me all too well, knowing where exactly I had planned on going. He stopped me in my path by standing in front of me. 

“Yer not going anywhere,” he said. 

“Move,” I demanded with hard eyes. 

Barry didn’t budge. 

“I’m not going to say it again, Barry. Fucking move,” I seethed. 

He shook his head. “You’ll have to fight me. I’m not letting you go to the pubs tonight.” 

“God, you’re so infuriating!” I yelled, pushing at his hard chest.

My push did nothing to move him. 

“Why did you come back?” I pushed him again. 

“Did you come back to rub it in my face that I’ve lost everyone?” 

This push was a bit harder but did nothing against him, as he sucked in a bottom lip, body swaying a bit. 

“Are you happy to see that I’m a fucking failing after our divorce? I have no home, no parents, no husband. Nothing!” 

He sucked in a bottom lip, body swaying a bit. 

This push did make him stumble a bit but he regained his composure rather quickly. Tears had begun to fester in my eyes but I did everything I could to keep them at bay, not allowing them to spill over my cheeks. 

“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” 

My voice echoed through the small home as I gave one last push on Barry’s chest, watching him fall onto the couch behind him. Tears fell to the ground at my feet and I licked up the saltiness from my lips, sobs wrecking my body. 

Barry looked up at me with sad eyes and went to reach for my hand. 

“Y/N, please-.” 

I smacked his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me! Is this what you wanted? To completely break me? Well congratulations, you’ve succeeded. You can leave now.” 

I stormed away from him, fingers almost reaching for the bottle of vodka on the bar cart as I passed it. Once I was back in my bedroom, I let the door slam behind me, locking Barry out literally and figuratively.

[anterieur]

chris fleming truly has his finger on the pulse of tumblr’s zeitgeist

[k-wame]

Barry Keoghan & Jacob Elordi for Saltburn (2023) dir. Emerald Fennell Q&A

[osc-piastri81]

SALTBURN (2023) dir. Emerald Fennell

[riickgrimes]

Spoiled dogs, sleeping belly up. No natural predators. Well, almost none...

SALTBURN (2023) DIR. EMERALD FENNELL

[dumbbsomeone]

People who said the Saltburn bathtub scene was traumatizing never stepped foot on this app, wattpad, or ao3 🤷‍♀️

[pinkhysteria]

[prideprejudce]

Saltburn is a vampire movie even though there wasnt a single supernatural element and you cannot convince me otherwise

[agroteraa]

Artemis

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.

Word Count: 5,5K

After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.

So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...

You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.

"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.

"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."

"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.

When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.

"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."

"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.

You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?

That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.

You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.

Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.

It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...

... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.

* * *

"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.

"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."

"Why aren't you with them too?"

"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.

"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."

At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.

He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.

"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.

Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.

After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.

"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.

"Hello!-" you started.

"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?

You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.

"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.

"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."

"Yeah, that’s great..."

"And how was yours?"

"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."

"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."

You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.

The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.

But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.

"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."

With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.

At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.

But no.

You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.

His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.

The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.

"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.

You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.

After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.

*Knock-knock*

"Oliver!"

The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.

"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.

You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.

He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.

He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.

The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.

His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.

Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.

He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.

He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.

"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."

You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.

Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.

Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.

* * *

Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.

But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.

Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.

The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?

The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.

"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."

Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.

Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.

"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.

"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.

"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.

"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.

The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:

Baby, can't you see I'm calling?

A guy like you should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm falling

There's no escape, I can't wait

I need a hit, baby, give me it

You're dangerous, I'm loving it

You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.

Too high, can't come down

Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic?

He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.

It's getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil's cup

Slowly, it's taking over me

What a confession. Or was it a call?

You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now

Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.

Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.

The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.

You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.

"Oliver!"

He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.

"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"

"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."

You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.

It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.

"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.

"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"

Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"

You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.

Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.

"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.

At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.

Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.

His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.

You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.

"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.

He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.

"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."

"My sweet Y/N..."

Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.

"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."

Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.

"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.

“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.

You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.

You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.

You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.

You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.

"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.

"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."

Oliver chuckled softly.

"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."

Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.

"Yes, I guess, it is."

The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.

He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.

The fun continued. The hunt was a success.

[castielsprostate]

can we stop attacking actors for their looks, especially when they're not "conventionally attractive"? especially for their teeth or their hairline or the way their cheeks look or if their noses aren't perfectly shaped? can we have unique people in media without trying to destroy their being for something they can't, and shouldn't, have to change???

[thefallennightmare]

Broken-five

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest*

Pairings: Barry Keoghan x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, implied smut, mentions of alcoholism and death.

Summary: A failed marriage wasn't in the cards for Reader, she thought she found her happily ever after with Barry. While trying to overcome the heartbreak, a tragic event brings them back together temporarily. Will the devastating loss bring them back together or be what pushes them apart for good?

Authors Note: enjoy to whoever it is reading this!

Gone were the morning sun rays, now the afternoon blaze blasted into the windows of my bedroom, warming up my body. A loud groan echoed off of the walls as I slowly sat up in bed, glaring at the brightness of the sun, its happiness causing my stomach to rile with disgust. 

Didn’t it know that I was trying to mourn, my parents and a hangover?

The blankets were thrown off of me as I reluctantly got out of bed, for one thing. 

More alcohol. 

I silently prayed that I was alone, Barry leaving last night when I asked him too. The last thing I needed while I drowned in my sorrows were his judgment or disappointed eyes. 

My feet halted, almost screeching against the hardwood floors, as I took in the sight in front of me of the empty bar cart. Every single bottle of booze was gone and it was the same for the cabinets where I knew my parents hid the extras. 

“What the fuck,” I grumbled. 

Had I been in such a tired haze last night that I either drank them all or poured them out without remembering? 

Suddenly, a deep voice sounded from outside on the patio and by how fast he was speaking, I knew something wasn’t right. His back was to me, the muscles under his shirt tightened as he leaned farther over the railing, letting out an annoyed breath. 

“I'm sorry, but she needs me. I can't leave her. Christ, she just lost her parents. Can't you have some respect for that?....We were married, not anymore.” 

The way Barry stressed the word ‘were’ made my stomach drop, trying to prove a point to whoever he was on the phone with. 

“There's nothing between us, I was the one who asked for a divorce, Alyi…..No, I'm pretty sure she hates me, there's no more love there….I'm staying because I can't leave her, she needs help….

He stood straighter, back rigid, as he placed a hand on his hip and let out a breath. "I can't answer that because I'm afraid ya won't like the answer....Yeah, whatever Alyi.”

Barry spewed a few curses before pocketing his phone and as he turned to face me, he tried his best to give me a small smile. He failed, though, his anger being too much. 

“Who was that?” I asked while crossing my arms. 

He shook his head. “No one.” 

I hummed. “Well, it seems like this ‘no one’ is pretty upset about you staying here with me.” 

“Ya well, she’ll get over it,” Barry more so told himself.

“I don’t need your help, Barry. I’ve been doing fine on my own the past year,” I defended. 

“Right,” he nodded, running a hand over his chin. “That’s why you were just looking for a drink?”

My jaw went slack as I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. “Did you have something to do with the missing booze?” 

Barry scoffed while leaning his back against the railing now. “You’d really think I’d leave stacks on stacks of bottles here with you?” 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” I stormed back inside to get far away from him. 

It did nothing to deter him, Barry following me close behind. 

“Do you not see how bad of a problem you have, Y/N? It’s barely noon.” 

I spun on my heels, my hair flowing over my shoulder. “What I do is none of your business, Barry.” 

“Isn’t it?” He stretched his arms out wide. “I’m here with ya because I’m afraid of what might happen if I leave.” 

“Did you forget that you were the one that wanted the divorce?” I reminded him, voice raising a bit. 

“Oh for Christ sakes,” Barry ran a hand through his hair. “Your relapse has nothing to do with the divorce. 

I stared at him for a moment, completely dumbfounded that he was so naive to think that and a low scoff left my lips. 

“It has everything to do with it! You threw away everything for some girl you met at an after party? You knew her for all of two minutes and suddenly you decided to have an affair?!” 

Barry pointed a finger at me while shaking his head. “I was faithful to ya the entire relationship, Y/N. Don’t go saying stuff you have no idea about.” 

“Bullshit,” I spat. “It’s all over the internet, Barry! Pictures of you and her together. Did you even think about how I felt, seeing them so soon after we signed the papers?” 

His own anger faltered, only for a second, when he saw the lone tear that ran down my cheek. When I noticed him staring, I hastily wiped it away, refusing to let him get the satisfaction of hurting me once more. 

“This was a mistake,” I breathed. “Drunk texting you. If I kept my feelings to myself, you wouldn’t be here right now and I wouldn’t have to deal with this.” 

I pointed between us. 

“Please leave,” I begged.

Barry didn’t move, simply stood in front of me with his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. 

“I’m not leaving you.” 

His voice came out hushed and I had to strain my ears in order to hear him. 

“Please,” I begged once more, tears now falling from my eyes. 

Barry shook his head, biting his lower lip, as he closed the distance between us by placing a tender hand on my cheek. Fire spread all throughout my body, feeling his touch in so long that it brought back so many memories and I whimpered, eyes fluttered shut. 

“One week. Promise me you’ll stay sober for one week and then I’ll be gone,” Barry suggested.

Our eyes locked and I almost pulled away, told him to fuck off, not needing to make a promise for a problem I don’t have. But I realized that if I did agree to this, I could go the week with no drinking and then he’d be gone. I wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore or see his aggravating face. 

His beautiful, strong boned, aggravating face. 

“Okay,” I nodded, still in his embrace. 

We continued to stare at each other, his bright eyes piercing deep into me and my heart skipped a beat when the magnetic pull between us became too strong to ignore. I felt myself melting into him, like I did so many times before. He must have realized what was about to happen because Barry let out a low cough and stepped away from me, his hand dropping to his side. 

“I’ll stay on the couch. Do you parents still keep the extra blankets and pillows in the hall closet?” Barry rubbed the back of his neck. 

The corner of my lip pulled up in a small smile as he remembered that tiny detail from so many years ago. 

I nodded and shifted on my feet. “Yeah.” 

We stayed there for a few more seconds with Barry’s tongue wetting his bottom lip, before I pointed to the bathroom. “I think I’m going to take a shower.” 

There was a quick flash in his eyes as he hummed low, a deep rumble in his chest.  The tension around us shifted on the tether of angry conversation towards a very suggestive one. 

Before either of us did something we would regret, I scurried past him and decided to stay hidden in the bathroom until the burning itch faded from between my legs.

[strawberrybyers]

bisexuals how are we doing are you doing okay because i’m not

[k-wame]

BARRY KEOGHAN ↳ But yeah, he's…Nah. He's just, he's a gorgeous person, honestly. ↳ 'SALTBURN' Press | Digital Spy · Dec. 2023

[meyerlansky]

we made a wee bit of a mess up here. but the people are really swell and they're looking after us.

[wormswurld]

ollie after being kissed by felix in a room surrounded by people who want him: 🤗🤭🌟💖🪄✨

[bisexualfbiagents]

THE X FILES | Darkness Falls (1.20)