#it fuckin infuriates me to no end.

[murdereyesnicky]

Sorry not sorry for the last coupla posts. This shit is fuckin infuriatin to me. Always has been. The IOC and IAAF have fucked over countless athletes with this bullshit with Caster Semanya bein the biggest name at the time of their rulin. Its been affectin track and field for years and now its startin to affect other sports and other athletes

Imane Khelif i am so so sorry you are the new target of this idiotic vitroilic hatred. I am so sorry and i wish you all the best and success.

[cursedauxiliary]

I'm still feeling this low level of anger towards the arguement I had yesterday with my dad

[viasdiary]

☆ jerk with benefits (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 1.8k

☆ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, hate-sex dynamic

☆ conceited frat luigi clashes with a stubborn main character, but they have insane sexual chemistry.

you’d been hooking up with luigi for a few weeks now, and honestly, the more time you spent with him, the more he got under your skin. his smug smirk, his stupid one-liners—everything about him was insufferable. you couldn’t stand luigi mangione. but, god, the sex? that was the only thing that made it even remotely worth it.

it had been one of those days. everyone was getting on your nerves, you had so much fucking work to do, and quite frankly you didnt have it in you to do much of anything.

even though you were at your wits end, you still found yourself outside luigi's chapter house, your hands tucked in the pockets of your navy blue sweats. if this was what it took to relieve your stress, then so be it.

you walk up to the door and knock a couple times.

luigi answers the door and the warm afternoon light highlights the curls in his dark hair. his broad chest is on display as he stands shirtless, his grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, revealing the elastic band of his boxers.

a wide conceited grin spreads across his face as he studies you.

“just couldn't get enough of me, huh?” he teases.

“can i come in? it's fucking freezing.” you reply, unamused.

he moves out of your way as you push past him into the house.

the usual beer cans and pizza boxes are scattered in the kitchen. he walks behind you as you find your way to his room down the hall.

you enter luigi's room, the familiar scent of his cologne hitting your nose. without a word, you turn to face him, your eyes meeting his dark, intense gaze. the tension between you is palpable, a mix of contempt and visceral attraction.

luigi closes the door behind him as you take a seat on the bed, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. he sits next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

"rough day?" he asks, his voice still as smug as ever.

you roll your eyes, not in the mood for his stupid small talk.

"shut up." you reply, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him close.

his lips press into yours, hungry and demanding. your fingers tangle in his curls as his large hands roam your body, slipping under your sweater to caress your skin, feeling your bare waist.

the kiss deepens, and you feel the stress of the day melting away. you part your lips as you pull away and whisper

“y’know, you’re so nice when you’re not fucking talking.”

luigi chuckles against your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

"and you're so much nicer when you’re not complaining," he retorts, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly.

you bite back a moan as he trails kisses along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot on your neck. your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging slightly as he nips at your skin. you’d been craving this all day. as much as you couldn’t stand him, the feeling of his body against yours, your lips interlocked, it all just felt so right.

your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his muscular back as luigi's lips continue their assault on your neck. you can feel the heat building between you, your body responding to his touch despite your best efforts to resist.

"god, i fuckin' hate you," you mutter, even as you tilt your head to give him better access.

luigi chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine.

"feeling's mutual, sweetheart," he murmurs, his hands sliding under your sweater to caress your bare skin.

in one swift motion, he pulls your sweater over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. his eyes rake over your body, that cocky smirk still playing on his lips.

"but i gotta say, you look so good like this."

you roll your eyes, grabbing his face and pulling him in for another agressive kiss. your teeth clash as you kiss him roughly, pouring all your frustration and desire into it. luigi responds with equal fervor, his hands roaming your body, traveling between your shoulders and unhooking your bra, letting it fall onto the bed.

you push him down onto the bed, straddling his hips as you break the kiss. looking down at him, you can't help but admire how good he looks - his curls mussed, lips swollen, eyes dark with lust.

"shut up and fuck me already," you say impatiently, grinding down against him.

luigi's hands grip your waist tightly, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

"so demanding," he teases, but there's a strain in his voice that betrays his own need.

in one fluid motion, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him. his weight presses you into the mattress as

his lips crash into yours once more, hungry and insistent. his hands roam your body, caressing and teasing as he grinds against you. the friction sends waves of pleasure through you, making you arch into him.

luigi's mouth trails down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. you know he's leaving marks, but you're too far gone to care. his lips move lower, kissing along your collarbone and down to your breasts. when his mouth closes around your nipple, you can't hold back the moan that escapes you.

"fuck, luigi," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his curls.

you feel him smirk against your skin before he switches to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. his hand slides down your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your sweats. when his fingers brush against your sensitive core, you gasp and arch into his touch. luigi groans against your skin, feeling how ready you are for him.

"so wet for me already," he murmurs, his voice low and gentle. "and you say you hate me."

you tug sharply on his hair in retaliation, eliciting a groan from him.

"i already told you- just fuck me already," you demand breathlessly.

luigi doesn't need to be told twice. he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. as you kick them off, he begins to remove his own sweatpants, his erection springing free.

he settles back between your legs, teasing your wet cunt with the tip of his cock. you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he resists.

"tell me how much you fuckin' want me, how much you need me” luigi breathes against your ear, his voice husky with desire.

you groan in frustration, digging your nails into his back.

"fuck you," you spit out, even as your hips move upwards, seeking friction.

he chuckles darkly. "that's the idea, amore. but i wanna hear you say it."

his teasing is maddening, the tip of his cock sliding through your wet folds but never quite entering you. you're so wound up, so desperate for release, that you're willing to swallow your pride - just this once.

"fine," you sigh, your voice thick with need. "i want you. i need you inside me right fucking now. happy?"

luigi's smirk widens. "ecstatic," he taunts, and in one smooth thrust, he buries himself deep inside you.

you both groan at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. he stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his forehead resting against yours. then he starts to move, setting a relentless pace that has you gasping and clawing at his muscular back.

the room fills with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your moans and luigi's grunts. he angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust.

"fuck, you feel so good baby," luigi groans against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. his pace quickens, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

you're lost in the sensations - the fullness of him inside you, the friction of his body against yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. as much as you hate to admit it, no one else has ever made you feel this good. him stretching you open like this is hard to manage.

“luigi, it‘s too much,” you whine, feeling him deep inside you. but even as you say it, your body betrays you, arching into him, craving more.

he exhales heavily, his lips brushing your ear.

"i don’t fuckin' care." his hips snap forward, driving into you harder. "i think you can take more, amore. i think you want more."

you bite back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. but god, he feels so good inside you, filling you completely. your nails dig into his back as you feel the tension building inside you, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

luigi's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. he has you gasping, your hips moving wildly against him as you cry out his name desperately.

"i thought you wanted this, baby. thought you needed me to fuck you."

his words, combined with the torturously slow drag of his cock inside you, make you whimper. you're so close, teetering on the edge of pleasure so intense it's almost painful.

"i do," you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. "don't stop. please, luigi, i'm so close."

he continues relentlessly, picking up the pace once more, his fingers still roughly moving against your clit. the added stimulation has you arching off the bed, a cry of pleasure ripping from your throat.

"that's it," luigi encourages, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "cum for me, amore. let me feel you."

his words push you over the edge. your orgasm crashes over you in waves of intense pleasure, your body shuddering beneath him as you cry out his name. your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper.

luigi groans, his hips moving erratically as your climax triggers his own. he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he finishes. you feel the warmth of his release filling you, prolonging your own pleasure.

for a moment, you both lie there, panting and intertwined. luigi's weight presses you into the mattress, his face buried in the crook of your neck. you can feel his heart racing against your chest, matching your own rapid heartbeat.

finally, luigi lifts his head, meeting your gaze with that stupid smirk of his.

"still hate me?"

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚐𝚏!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

📖 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡.

CW | swearing, name-calling, Rafe & reader’s POV, hockey violence, pet names (daddy, doll, baby, babygirl etc, degradation, Rafe talks about the reader in an explicit fashion to her ex without her there, rough oral, throat fucking, cum play, creampie, semipublic sex, unprotected p in v, jealous!rafe, ownership kink, squirting, lots of dirty talk from him

NCAA Men’s Frozen Four Championship Game…

30 seconds remaining in the 3rd Period 1-0:

Rafe’s POV:

The ref’s whistle screams through the arena. The puck drops again. I skirt and push as I look for an opening, waiting for my pass. I charge past the student section, catching her eye as I always do. My number one fan. My girl. Mine.

Easton Lawrence is a bitch. He has been since juniors; y/n’s ex-boyfriend no less. He and I usually both end up ejected from the game without fail. Not today. I promised her I’d play as nice as I could. ‘He’s not worth it. He’s a dick. He’s just trying to get under your skin, baby.’ That’s my girl’s pep talk. But Jesus fuckin’ Christ, three periods of this shit-talkin’ from him has me wanting to toss all that out the window. He loves to fuck with me. And he always has—every damn game.

Easton bumps his stick against the glass, giving her a smile that she doesn’t return. Good girl. We meet at the line, getting ready for puck drop. His silver chain hangs out of his jersey. Of course, I stalked her IG before we dated; I know that pendant was a gift from her. #6 shines in the bright rink lights, making my blood boil.

“Y/n looks good, Cameron. Sweetest fucking pussy I ever had.” He chirps, taking a jab as he has, each one getting more infuriating than the last as he inches closer and closer to my soft spot. Her. He just had to do it.

“Say her name again. Do it, bitch,” I warn.

“I miss her sayin’ mine, that’s for sure,” he sneers as he tightens his stick in his mitts.

“You startin’ shit ‘cause you’re losin’, asshole? This game is almost over. Give it up.” The whistle blows, a false start, leaving him plenty more time to run his mouth. My turn. “Good? Nah, buddy. My girl looks perfect. And I’m man enough to agree with you, perfect fuckin’ pussy. Too bad you weren’t man enough to make her cum. Huh?”

Easton laughs wickedly and shakes his head. “Gonna fucking kill you when I find you in the parkin’ lot, Cameron. I swear to Christ.”

“No, you ain’t. ‘Cause I’m gonna take that sweet pussy to the first locker room I find and rail what’s mine. Gonna make her forget that any man’s name’s ever passed her lips but Rafe Cameron.”

The whistle blasts, and the puck drops. I get an elbow to the gut immediately, Easton prodding and taunting me instantly. There are so many bodies in front of the net, but I catch my opening. The puck hits my stick, a little backhand flick. I watch as she trickles past the goal line.

The siren sounds, and the crowd cheers loudly as the music blares. I skate toward him, getting in his face before my teammates can reach me to celebrate, making the refs rush around us, anticipating a brawl. “Gettin’ her and the win, pussy. Have fun beatin’ your own dick, bitch,” I dig. Easton shoves me hard, and I shove him back, slapping his chest and ripping that cheap-ass Zale’s chain off his chest before hurling it over the glass.

"Break it up!” The refs scream, blowing their whistles again.

My co-captain bumps me with his stick, giving me a broad smile. That was the winning goal. A few boys drag me in for a celebratory hug before skating back to the bench. There are only a few seconds left, and the crowd’s goin’ crazy aleady. Y/n can barely contain her excitement. I give her a wink, and she smiles back, giving me a little finger wave that has me even more eager for the final buzzer.

Sure, they’ll be press after this. A quick interview with ESPNU, maybe a few words from the coaches; a quick speech from us captains. But when I’m done with all that shit, I’m fuckin’ my girl just like I said I would.

My coach smiles at me proudly, not wanting to jinx the next 30 seconds of play. The only thing that would be better is if the puck passed the white ice before the clock hit 0.0.

But I don’t wanna get greedy now, do I? I’ll save that for her.

Reader’s POV:

“Congratulations, captain…” Your lips meet his neck, a soft kiss, feeling his heartbeat under your lips. You palm his cock, rolling your fingers gently over the fabric. Rafe moans deeply, vibrations buzzing against your lips. You work a little lower, kissing and tracing his strong chest and abs, working to the locker room floor.

Your fingers run softly against the deep indentations of his v-lines, making his muscles flex. You smile up at him from your knees, catching your fingers under the band of his boxers, pulling them to his feet, watching as his aching cock springs free, Rafe letting out a sigh of relief.

He meets your eyes, his guide shifting as you pinch the bottom of his jersey you’re wearing. “Keep it on, princess. Just for a bit,” he smiles as he looks down at you at his feet, wanting to see his last name on your shoulders as you suck him off.

“I love your cock, baby,” you laud as you take him in your hands.

“Yeah?” He groans, watching you near his tip; a bead of precum gathers on his head, rolling slowly before it falls to the concrete. “Don’t go wastin’ it now,” he teases as you run your tongue along your bottom lip; mouth water, wanting the weight and taste of him on your tongue.

“If I was at the hotel, I’d lick it off the floor. I swear,” you smile as Rafe looks down at you in awe.

“Just a filthy little slut for me. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Mmm… Mhmm.” You hum, preening him up with your tongue. Rafe closes his eyes, tilting his head back to the ceiling. He cradles your head in his hands as you swirl slowly.

“This mouth, baby,” he mumbles.

Rafe’s eyes open, watching as you kiss him sloppily, teasing him with the thought of your lips wrapped around him fully, the warmth of your mouth swathing him. “Shit,” he pants, sexual tension painted all over his handsome face. You smile wickedly, lips parting slightly as he watches you take him into your mouth. “Fuckkk,” he moans, drawing out the word with a deep breath. You bob back and forth, choking on his big dick each time. He holds your head a little tighter in his hands as you increase your pace.

Rafe starts to trill on your tongue, mumbling praise as you add your hands. He tugs your hair, causing you to moan around his cock. Rafe takes control, gliding slower, taking a different grip entirely, holding your cheeks in his large hands. The fat tip of his cock kisses the back of your throat, spit seeping from the corners of your mouth.

“This mouth is mine. All fucking mine,” he grunts. “And you’re gonna swallow it all. Yeah?” Rafe asks raspily, stroking your full cheeks with his thumbs. “‘Course you are. Can’t answer with this pretty little mouth full of dick. Can you?”

Rafe thrusts deeply a few more times before giving you back the reins. You draw off him fully, a gasp for air releases from your open lips, drool connecting from the tip of his cock to your kiss-swollen lips. You spit on his dick, getting messy just like he likes, stroking him with your fist. "I’m all yours, Rafe.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Mhmm… That’s right, princess.” You wrap your lips around his tip, creating a suction that makes him moan your name. Your hands wrap around, gripping his ass, as you start to stroke him with your mouth again. Lewd noises fill the locker room; Rafe, panting and like a dog; you, slurping and squelching with each bob of your head. Tears leak down your cheeks, eyes locked on him, watching as he starts to near his finish. Rafe’s cock swells on your tongue; his muscular thighs trembling as you squeeze. ”So good, baby… I’m gonna - Fuck.“ Warm, white ropes hit the back of your throat as you take his big load, swallowing it all.

You bind your fingers a little tighter, milking out his last bits of pleasure, skimming your tongue along his tip, catching what little remains, flattening your tongue to show him yourself. “My girl,” he smiles, hooking a finger under your chin, leading you to your feet. Rafe spits in your open mouth one moment, kissing you deeply the next, slipping his tongue inside. Your tongues swirl together, Rafe holding onto you tight.

"I need you, baby,” you plead against his lips, and he smiles on yours.

“Yeah? You need this dick, princess?”

“I need it,” you whisper, taking his bottom lips between your teeth.

“She needs it… I wanna fill up this sweet pussy,” he mumbles. “Nobody else gets you but me. No one else knows this cunt like I do. Do they?” He asks, all low and husky against your neck. You respond with a needy uh huh, making him chuckle as you melt into him more, feeling your arousal pool in your panties. “I’m gonna be drippin’ out of you all night.”

“I’m counting on it, Rafe,” you breathe. He strips you out of his jersey quick; your pants already tossed to the side, leaving you in your black lacy bra and panties. Rafe unclasps your bra as he kisses down your neck, holding your breasts in his ringed hands. He reels and flicks his tongue across your sensitive bud, pinching the other between his rough digits. You scratch your fingers into his damp hair, guiding him lower and lower.

“Babygirl,” he chuckles as he snaps your panties at the hip, seeing his #2 embroidered into the fabric. “I fuckin’ love you. You know that.”

“You like it?”

“You know I would. I love ‘em.” He kisses your skin, then the number, working lower and lower, hitching your leg over his shoulder to get better access to your sopping core. Rafe licks the fabric, tasting you, groaning against your clothed cunt at the taste. “M’gonna leave these on… Get ‘em all messy. When we get back to the hotel after the bar, you can take ‘em off. Deal?”

“Deal,” you smile as you brush back his bangs to see his pretty baby blues.

“‘N by you I mean me,” he smiles playfully. “I’m already thinkin’ about later, baby. Got me fuckin’ pussy whipped,” Rafe laughs as he lifts you into his strong arms.

“I’m addicted to you, Cameron. I guess we’re even,” you whisper against his lips as you hook your ankles around his waist, driving your body closer as he presses your back into the cool brick wall. ”Fuck me?“ You whine, desperation laced in your tone. ”Please.“

“I love when you beg for my cock. Think you could get nice and loud for me, princess?” You bite your lip and nod in reply. “Beautiful.”

Rafe pushes your panties to the side; you tilt your forehead against his, the two of you watching as his long cock nears your warmth. ”Shit,“ you whine as he circles your sensitive clit with his velvety head, making him smirk. Rafe moves a little lower, gliding through your folds, teasing your entrance with his pink, swollen tip. You both moan in unison as he fucks up into you.

You gasp and fuss, feeling him split you in two. Your boyfriend wasting no time stroking, hitting that special spot. He pins you to the wall, leaning in, rutting quickly. His thrusts are merciless, absolutely intense as you cling to his shoulders. You cry out in pleasure as his toned body claps against your clit, his ruddy head repeatedly striking your g-spot.

“Atta girl. Keep screamin’ like that.”

”Rafe… Oh my god. I’m gonna cum,“ you moan as stars dance in your eyes, white-hot pleasure overtaking you entirely as you cum all over his cock. Rafe works you even quicker, fucking you through your orgasms as your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“Got this pussy creamin’ for me. Think I could make her cry,” he taunts through mumbled words, sucking and biting your skin, marking you up.

Rafe pulls you off the wall, leaving you gasping, his dick still buried deep as he carries you to the bench. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap as you kiss. Rafe adjusts slightly, leaning back into the wall, enjoying the view, catching a different angle, making you suck in some air. You lift your body, rising fully before spreading your thighs wide again. Rafe grips your ass in his hands, following you as you move. ”It’s too much,“ you whine, bottom lip wobbling, as he stretches you out.

“You’re lyin’,” he laughs breathily between jagged breaths. “My baby can take it.”

You throw your head back as you bounce, nailing the perfect spot, feeling every curve and ridge of Rafe’s dick as your thighs start to burn. Rafe’s thumb presses against your throbbing clit rubbing circles on top. ”Say my name when you cum, princess. Scream my fuckin’ name.“

”Sh-Shit,” you stutter, cock-drunk, thighs quivering uncontrollably, making you lose your rhythm. “M’gonna cum.”

“Cum on my cock, baby. Let me have it.”

Your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure hitting you harder than your first release, toes curling as you’re sent into ecstasy. Before you can come down, he picks you up, pushing you onto the cold bench, thrusting into you suddenly. The sounds of his skin clapping against yours echoes through the locker room. You let out a loud cry, making him smile wildly before your eyes pinch shut, gripping the metal edge, making your knuckles turn white.

“Look at me, princess. Eyes on me. M’almost there. You’re doin’ so good, f’me.” He lifts his hand, pressing two fingers between your lips before bringing them down to your clit, playing with your pussy.

”Yes! Just - Just like that. Fuck. Rafe,“ you squeal. ”Oh shit-“ Your orgasm spills over, soaking his cock, wetting your panties and his thighs. Rafe’s hips snap into you, filling you with his warmth. He topples down on top of you, burying himself in your neck, mumbling soft “I love you’s” as he rocks through your shared release. Rafe kisses your cheeks, then your lips, lingering close as you both come down from your bliss.

“Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had.”

my masterlist 🔮

[yestrday]

ok but like a yandere whose life you've absolutely ruined by simply being better. all his life he's been groomed to be the very best at everything he does— academics, sports, extracurriculars, etc... and here you are, the oblivious transfer student breaking everything he's built for himself without a care in the world. he was indifferent to you at the start, just another passing shadow in his world, but now he's staring at you, eyes livid.

and you either don't care or don't notice. you continue to live your life to the fullest. you smile and laugh loudly with your friends while you make plans on where to karaoke after class. you kick back a stray ball and it goes flying back to the soccer team in a perfect arc, and everyone else cheers and whoops, impressed. he wished you had gotten hit in the face. maybe that would make him feel better.

he doesn't get it. how can anyone so effortlessly do the things that he's been giving his all to achieve? life is so unfair, and you are another reminder that the world is full of shit.

and he hates, hates, hates how you tease him, mocking him but not quite so. you know you're better, you're aware of how his fingers clench his paper when he sees you score higher, how he bites his lip when you're one slot above him in the exam scoreboard. no one sees it but him— that coy, poisonous smile you wear when you pull down your eye and stick your tongue at him. you infuriate him and he hates how you're getting a kick out of it.

but you're not all that, you know? in the end, you're just flesh and bones. so you better keep yourself in line lest he beats the bitch out of your pretty lil head.

"gah–! r-resorting to violence now, are we?" he looms over you, huffing as he looks at you with those dark, maddened eyes. you're on the floor, ankle twisted and blood flowing from your nose, but you still grin at him as if it's nothing. "someone's a sore loser."

"shut up."

"had to pull me into this crusty alley like a freak, just to punch out all your inferiority complex on me." your laugh is scratchy and you cough a few times. "did you seriously stalk me all the way here so you can do your petty revenge?"

he doesn't answer. instead he scans your body. head bleeding thanks to bashing it against the wall a few times, arms scratched due to the little fight you put up earlier, and fatigued face maintaining your coy facade despite the clear effort it took. this is the most pathetic he's seen you, and god does that give him a power rush.

"i'm not done with you yet," he murmurs. he picks you up by the collar, an easy feat thanks to your worn-out state, and crouches down. "i'm gonna fuckin' break you, bitch."

you tilt your head back and laugh, eyes glimmering at his promise. "hot," you grin at him. "that's really fuckin' hot."

in the reflection of your eyes, his expression stares back at him. surprise? horrified? ... excited? he doesn't know why you're enjoying this, but it's stirring feelings within him that spurs him to lean forward and enjoy the heat of your mouth and the copper of your blood on his tongue.

SCARAMOUCHE (genshin impact), REO, isagi, KAISER (blue lock), BAKUGOU, dabi, shigaraki (bnha), SATAN (obey me) +any of your toxic faves

[celestialgallaghers]

Bruised Ego [18+]

Oasis brain rot has consumed me so badly i’m sorry.

Summary: Tagging along on tour with Oasis should’ve been amazing. And it was except for one major problem: Liam. You two don’t get on well and being stuck around him for days on end makes it worse. After a particularly ruthless offense on your end, Liam plots his revenge. 

Word count: 7.1k

--------------------------------------------------------

Your ears were ringing, the vibrations of the music still thrumming through your body. Being on tour with Oasis was fun. Ecstatic, even. The energy in the venues was unbelievable. Thousands and thousands of fans screamed, shouted, and practically worshipped the band. And somehow, they all seemed to remain relatively level-headed. I.e. they weren't divas. 

Well, most of them weren't. 

Liam was often brash and unpredictable. It was amazing that he and Noel were even related. 

You’d met Noel way back in his roadie days and the two of you had shared some good fuckin’ laughs. He was fun to be around, never taking shit too seriously. Sure he could be a cocky bastard too, but it was in a loveable way. Liam, on the other hand, was anything but. 

Over the years, you’d become part of Noel’s inner circle. You knew his friends, his girlfriends, his dealer, everything. It was inevitable that Liam would have to be part of that picture too. 

Your first impression of him was that he was a bit standoffish. He stood about, not saying much. Mostly lingered in the background, drink in hand, tossing out the occasional quip. In the beginning you didn’t mind him. However when the band really started to take off and you began hanging around more, he changed. Became more self assured and loud-mouthed. Suddenly, avoiding him wasn’t so easy. Before, you only had to put up with him at the pub or a gig, and even then, he was tolerable. Running his mouth? You walked away. Being more annoying than usual? Another pint solved that. You had ways of drowning him out.

That all changed when you found yourself stuck on a tour bus for endless hours with him. 

You’d been a fan of Oasis since their genesis. Well, since Noel joined anyway. So when they exploded all over the world, you didn’t think twice when he asked if you wanted to join for a leg of the tour. In hindsight, maybe you should've thought it through more. 

You and Liam had never exactly seen eye to eye, but the tour had amplified every little irritation. It had started small. Accusing you of stealing his lighter (you didn’t), calling your taste in music “shite”, or nicking your sunglasses. You gave as good as you got, though. A well-placed jab about his ego or a quip about how Noel carried the band usually did the trick.

Then there were the more vicious moments. Like the time you’d shared a hotel wall and he refused to turn down his music, no matter how many times you banged on the wall. Or when he told a reporter you were just some groupie who wouldn’t leave, which led to a shouting match so loud that even Noel had to step in. And of course the night he’d implied that your friendship with Noel was something more, which was completely untrue.

It was exhausting, infuriating, and completely unavoidable. No matter how much you tried to ignore him, Liam had a way of pulling you into his orbit whether you liked it or not.

Tonight’s show had been another insanely loud and energetic one, but something was clearly pissing Liam off. You’d taken on the simple job of handing them towels after the gig, and the scowl on his face almost made you laugh. And right now, as he sulked in the post-show haze, you had a feeling he was about to throw a fit over something ridiculous. By now you’d learned how to interpret Liam-isms. After being in eachothers pockets for so long, it was practically second nature. But that meant you also knew how to push his buttons, almost as well as Noel did. 

You handed off the last towel and followed everyone back into the dressing room. Another thing you loved about Oasis? Every single show ended with everyone getting completely pissed and going a bit mad. Absolute mayhem. And you loved every second of it. As you made your way through the door, you noticed Liam was already sulking in the corner. Everyone else ignored him, too busy cracking open bottles and flicking lighters. The air was thick with smoke and sweat. 

Someone handed you a beer, and you perched on the edge of a rickety couch. You’d learned the hard way not to trust the surfaces of dressing room couches. Some things were better left unknown. 

Noel found you, and the two of you clinked bottles. 

“Great show tonight,” you said, taking a swig. “They were screamin’ proper loud. I think my ears will be ringing for a week.” Noel chuckled but before he could even open his mouth, Liam mumbled something from the corner.

You turned your head toward him. “What?”

“Said if you don’t like it, you can leave” Liam repeated, his expression growing more and more agitated. “No one’s askin’ you to hang round”

You scoffed. The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze you. “Don’t be an arsehole, Liam,” you said, disdain dripping from every syllable.

Noel just stood there, vaguely amused. He had always appreciated your ability to handle Liam’s antics, no matter how insufferable they could be. Liam, on the other hand, just glowered. 

“No, really,” he said, shoving himself to his feet and shuffling over. “What exactly is it that you’re doin’ here? You’re just in it for the free ride.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned toward Noel, speaking as if Liam weren’t even there. “What crawled up his arse?” Noel smirked and took a slow sip of his beer. “Dunno. But whatever it is, it’s been there a while.”

Ignoring Liam was probably a mistake. “No, I’m seriously askin’ you,” voice sharpening. “What’s the real reason you hang around?”

You blinked, caught off guard for just a second. Was he serious? Now you were starting to get properly pissed off.

“You know damn well why I’m here so don’t act thick,” you snapped, trying to keep your voice level. “Noel asked me to come, and I said yes. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with him.” 

Noel, ever the instigator, simply shrugged. “Yeah, Liam. Thought you liked when people actually wanna be around us.”

Liam ignored him, eyes still locked on you. “You don’t even do anything,” he shot back, sneering. “All you do is hand us the towels and take up space.” 

Your fingers tightened around the bottle in your hand. 

“Fuck you, Liam.” 

His expression twisted into something smug as he watched you rise to leave. And then, like the complete tosser he was, he moved to the door, blocking your exit.

“Oh, so you’re gonna run away now? Like you always do?” His voice dripped with condescension.

You glared up at him. Unfortunately, he was taller than you. Significantly taller. You tried to push past him, but he shifted, making it even harder.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said, that insufferable smirk creeping onto his face.

“Let me through, Liam.” Your voice was quiet, but laced with pure rage. You were not in the mood to get into a screaming match tonight. He stood his ground, so you put all of your body weight into shoving him out of my way. He barely budged. 

This only seemed to amuse him. “And what if I don’t?” he challenged, a smug grin pulling at the corner of his lips. 

You clenched your jaw. You knew you shouldn’t do it. You really shouldn’t do it. But he was leaving you no choice.

Before you could overthink it, you brought your knee up. Hard.

A strangled gasp escaped him as he doubled over, finally allowing you to move past. The sound of laughter and jeers echoed behind you as you stormed off, gripping your beer tight. You needed somewhere quiet. Somewhere to stew. And maybe have a cigarette of two. 

You found a quiet, secluded corner and let out a deep sigh, still fuming. You were mad. Not just at Liam, but at yourself for letting him get under your skin so easily. His words replayed in your mind. “Free ride.” Bastard. Sure, you supposed tagging along with the band might look like freeloading to him, but to accuse you of just taking up space? That stung. Noel was your friend. He was the one that asked you to come, not Liam. If Liam had a problem with that he should’ve said something sooner, not as we were nearing the end of the tour. 

You leaned back against a cool concrete ledge, letting the chill seep into your skin. The air here was quiet, calm. Something you desperately needed after the chaos of the dressing room.

You fished a cigarette out of your pocket and placed it between your lips, willing the nicotine to ease the knot of irritation in your chest. Halfway through your second one, you heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching.

They slowed as they neared, hesitating. Your gaze remained firmly fixed ahead. You knew exactly who it was. His stupid cologne gave him away. Liam. Of course. Something told you Noel had forced him to come find you. 

He cleared his throat loudly, as if demanding your attention.

“What do you want?” you asked flatly, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

“Brilliant. Nice to see you too,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What do you think, genius? I want to talk to you. You’re the one who kneed me in the bollocks, remember?”

You scoffed, flicking ash off your cigarette. “Yeah and you deserved it.” 

Liam’s scowl deepened, his jaw tightening. He knew he deserved it a bit, but would never admit it. He gritted his teeth before replying. 

“You didn’t have to be so violent about it.” 

“Yeah well you didn’t have to be such a dick either” you shot back, finally turning your head to look at him. 

Liam felt a surge of frustration and annoyance. He didn’t like being scolded and less being told he was wrong. 

“I wasn’t even being that bad,” he retorted with a scoff. “You’re the one who overreacted.”

“Yeah sure ok Liam” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like you were deliberately trying to wind me up or anything.”

Liam folded his arms, clearly annoyed but unsure how to counter that. Instead, he moved to sit on the ledge you’d claimed. A few beats of silence passed before he spoke again, his tone carrying just a hint of mockery.

“You could at least apologize for almost castrating me,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a grin if he weren’t so irritated.

You sat up, looking at him with a deadpan expression. “Fine. I’m sorry for kneeing you in the balls.” It wasn’t sincere and he knew it. But you really didn’t want to waste your night fighting with him yet again.

“Drinks to make it better?” you offered, gesturing toward the dressing room.

He narrowed his eyes at you, still skeptical, but eventually relented with a small huff. “Fine. You owe me for that one.”

“Atta boy,” you said, patting his leg as you slid off the ledge.

“Don’t mock me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” you teased, noting how he was still wincing. “I didn’t get you that bad.”

“You definitely did!” he retorted, irritation mounting. “I’ll be sterile for the rest of my life now, thanks to you”

“Maybe that's for the best,” you said under your breath.

“What was that?” His head whipped toward you, eye’s narrowing.

“Nothing” you huffed. “Let’s all just hope and pray that the mighty Liam Gallagher's dick still works.”

“Oh piss off,” he grumbled. 

You snorted at that. Men were so touchy when it came to their dick. It honestly amused you. 

“Fine, fine,” you said, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I’ll find you some ice for that, yeah?” 

“Don’t bother,” he grumbled. “I’m fine.”

But your eyes flicked down, catching the way he subtly adjusted himself, clearly still nursing the ache.

“Sure you are,” you replied, biting back a grin. “How bout that drink, then?”

Without waiting for a reply, you headed back toward the dressing room, hearing his footsteps reluctantly follow behind. True to your word, you fixed him a drink. By the time you handed it to him, his scowl had softened slightly, though you knew it’d be a while before he dropped the whole thing.

❦ ❦ ❦

The night stretched on, the room a blur of laughter, music, and the occasional drunken shout. People drifted in and out, and you, now properly drunk, had completely pushed the earlier incident to the back of your mind. 

What you didn’t notice, however, was the way Liam had been watching you from across the room, his gaze sharp, unreadable. There was still a flicker of irritation in his eyes, though now it was laced with something else. He’d slowly been plotting a way to get a bit of payback throughout the night.

You stood up suddenly, stretching. “Right, I’m going for a piss,” you announced, making your way toward the bathroom.

Liam’s eyes tracked you, and as soon as you disappeared behind the door, he quickly drained the rest of his drink and pushed himself off the couch. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he strolled after you, slipping through the bathroom door quietly.

He saw you, but you hadn’t noticed him. A small thrill of satisfaction ran through him. He leaned against the door, making sure it was securely shut. A quick scan of the bathroom confirmed that you were all alone.

You’d just finished washing your hands when the sound of someone clearing their throat made you freeze. Your head snapped up, and through the mirror, you locked eyes with him.

“What the fuck, Liam?”

His smirk widened at your obvious surprise. He leaned lazily against the door, arms folded across his chest, exuding a sort of casual arrogance that set your nerves on edge.

“Just checking in on you, mate,” he said, voice laced with amusement. “Would hate for something to happen to you.” 

“You didn’t need to follow me in here, you creep.”

Liam just chuckled, completely unfazed. “Just making sure you weren’t up to anything. You know, plotting which band member to incapacitate next.”

You rolled your eyes, but something about the way he was watching you, like he was waiting for a reaction, made you uneasy. You suddenly felt vulnerable with your back to him.

“What are you getting at?” you asked, turning around slowly to face him.

Liam tilted his head slightly, considering you. He could see the flicker of suspicion in your eyes, and that only fueled his amusement. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

A strange tension settled in the air. The bathroom suddenly felt much smaller. You still had no idea what he was up to, but didn’t want to stick around and find out. You eyed the door, trying to plan an escape, but it seemed like you were really truly trapped in here with him. 

Liam caught the way your gaze flickered toward the door. “You’re not actually thinking of running out on me after I’ve been so considerate, are you?” His tone was mockingly hurt. “That’d be a bit rude.”

You sighed, tilting your head. “Just trying to figure out what it is you want.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, feigning innocence. “What? Can’t a guy just have a friendly chat?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Is this about earlier? I thought we’d moved past that.”

Liam scoffed. “Just returning the favor, me. You know, since you nearly ended my bloodline earlier.” 

You snorted. “What, you gonna punch me in the vagina or something?”

Liam let out a short, amused chuckle and shook his head. “Nah, that’s a bit daft, don’t you think? There are… much more creative ways to get back at someone.” 

Your gaze sharpened, suspicion flaring. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took his time, pretending to consider his options, drawing out the moment just to see the flicker of impatience cross your face. 

Then, he leaned forward slightly, dropping his tone low, almost whisper-like.

“What if I just lock the door?” His voice was teasing, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. “Keep you right here with me for a while.”

The air in the bathroom shifted.

You could still hear muffled sounds from the dressing room outside, but inside this tiny, enclosed space, it was just the two of you. The weight of his words lingered, heavy between you.

You held his gaze, refusing to waver. “Oh yeah?” Your voice was steady, but there was a challenge in it. “And why would you wanna do that?”

Liam’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. He could hear the defiance in your voice, but he could also see the way your fingers twitched slightly, the way you shifted just the tiniest bit where you stood. He pushed himself off the door, taking a slow step towards you. 

“Oh, you know, just to enjoy your company a little longer. It’s been a while since we had some… alone time.”

Your breath hitched for a fraction of a second before you forced yourself to scoff. But Liam caught it. You turned away slightly, arms crossing over your chest in a weak attempt at indifference. But it was too late. He’d seen the heat creeping up the back of your neck, the way your shoulders tensed just slightly. Because you knew exactly what he was referring to.

That night.

Months ago, in a dimly lit pub, Liam had sworn up and down he could outdrink everyone. It had started with an innocent enough bet: who could drink the most pints before tapping out. Classic, stupid, testosterone-fueled entertainment. But as the night went on, it became less about the booze and more about Liam’s ego.

“I could drink you under the fuckin’ table, mate,” he’d slurred, pointing a lazy finger at you across the sticky wooden bar top.

“You’re already halfway there, Liam,” you’d shot back, smirking as he swayed slightly on his stool.

Noel had been pissing himself laughing in the corner, watching as his brother made a fool of himself.

Somehow, you and Liam had been the last ones standing. That’s when things got messy. The two of you had spent hours running wild through the streets, fueled by booze, drugs, and reckless abandon, only to end up in his bed the next morning. 

Neither of you had spoken about it since. You hadn’t been sure he even remembered. He never let on or made a jest about it, so you pretended that it didn’t even happen. It was easier that way. Easier to hate him than to… well you didn’t really know. It was a feeling you were too scared to explore and something told that going down that road would be detrimental.  

But now, standing here, Liam watching you with that smug, knowing look, the memory felt a little too close.

His eyes flicked over your expression, smirk widening. “You remember that night, don’t you?” His voice was slow, deliberate. “It’s a bit blurry for me, but some moments I remember quite vividly.” 

He took a step closer, and you willed yourself not to react.  You met his gaze evenly, forcing an unimpressed scoff. “We’re not doing that again,” you said flatly. Then, for good measure, you added, “And from what I recall, you were quite unremarkable.”

It was a blatant lie. 

“Hm,” he hummed, tilting his head as if in thought. “Funny, that’s not what I remember.” He took another step forward. Slow. Measured. “The sounds you made were pretty unforgettable, I must say.”

Your stomach flipped. You’d been caught. There was no escaping this. Memories that you’d forbidden yourself to think about were now rushing to the surface at an alarming rate, making you flush all over.

He was only a few feet away now, closing in. You were running out of space, out of room to breathe.

“Not. Happening.” 

The words came out strong, firm, but your heart was hammering against your ribs, betraying you. He could see right through it.

His gaze locked onto yours, eyes dark and unreadable. The tension was thick, pressing in from all sides. When you instinctively moved back, your lower back met the cool edge of the sink, stopping you in your tracks.

Shit.

Liam let out a low chuckle, stepping even closer until he was nearly flush against you. The heat rolling off him was overwhelming.

“Are you sure?” His voice was lower now, teasing. “Not even a little bit interested?”

He brought his hands to either side of the sink, caging you in. You swallowed hard.

“Liam.”

It was supposed to be a warning, a firm line in the sand. But it came out softer, almost pleading. You winced at yourself.

His smirk grew. He’d caught it.

Your eyes flickered down to his mouth, slightly parted, lips plush and so damn close. He licked them absently, and the tip of his tongue just barely grazed you. A small, sharp inhale escaped before you could stop it.

Your breath mingled with his, the gap between you shrinking, pulling you into some inevitable gravitational force. He smelled like beer, sweat, and something distinctly Liam. Something intoxicating.

Your brain was screaming at you to walk away. To push him off. To regain control of the situation. But the alcohol and sudden lust in your bloodstream were drowning out those voices, leaving behind only heat, impulse, and the undeniable truth that this was a losing battle.

One second you're standing there, locked in a tug of war, and the next, your mouth was crashing into his with bruising force. A sigh of relief escaped your throat, unbidden, as if your body had been waiting for this moment all along.

Liam, the bastard, smirked into the kiss, because of course he would. He presses back with equal if not more force. His hands move from the sink to your waist, pinning you against the cool porcelain. Your hands fly up, grasping the back of his neck, desperate for balance, for something to ground you. 

Then he does it. His tongue flicking over your bottom lip, teasing, coaxing. You let out a small, needy sound before you can stop it, and his grip on your waist tightens in response. Alarm bells ring in your head, but they’re no use.

Liam, ever the smug prick, takes his time, dragging his teeth over your lip, biting just hard enough to make you shiver. But it's not enough. Not nearly enough.

You tug him closer, pressing against him. You take control, tongue sliding into his mouth, swallowing the low groan that rumbles in his throat.

For a moment you’re lost in the taste of him. The heat of him. The way his hands grip you like he doesn’t want to let go. Then he pushes into you, his hips pressing heavy against yours, pinning you so firmly into the sink that you feel every inch of him. The realization sends a thrill through you, heat beginning to sink low into your stomach and down between your thighs. 

This is dangerous territory. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Then he’s grinding against you, slow and deliberate, and the pressure makes you gasp into his mouth. Your fingers tighten around the back of his neck, nails digging in as your body arches instinctively into his. Liam groans, low and rough. His hand moves from your waist, trailing down your thighs. Suddenly he’s hooking your leg around his hip, giving himself more space. 

He presses impossibly closer, and you feel him, hard and insistent against your heated core. A strangled sound escapes your throat, something needy and desperate. 

His mouth moves, leaving your lips to trail down your jaw, hot and unrelenting, and when he reaches the pulse point on your neck, he bites down just enough to make you whimper.

Your eyes flutter shut, body shaking slightly as Liam drags his teeth over that one spot that makes you shiver. He feels it, feels you, react beneath him, and the bastard smiles against your skin.

Then he sucks, lips warm and wet as he marks you, punctuating it with a sharp thrust of his hips that sends sparks up your spine. A strangled whine spills from your lips as your fingers tighten in his hair, gripping him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. A steady, aching pulse throbs low in your core, demanding more. Demanding him.

You roll your hips, grinding against him, chasing that friction, and Liam groans. A deep, guttural sound that makes your skin burn. His grip tightens, one hand splaying across your ass, dragging you harder against him.

The feeling of him hot, hard, grinding against you sends another sharp thrill through your body, but it’s still not enough.

You need more. You need all of him.

“Liam,” you manage to gasp, voice wrecked and wanting.

“Fuck,” Liam mutters, voice rough against your skin. “You really are desperate for me, aren’t you?”

His words send a fresh wave of heat straight through you, and you should fight back, should snap at him for his cocky arrogance, but then he rolls his hips again, perfectly, and all that leaves your lips is a broken moan.

He pulls away from your neck, lifting his gaze to meet yours. His lips are flushed, swollen, glistening with spit. His eyes—dark, heavy-lidded, filled with something dangerous—leave you momentarily breathless, completely losing your train of thought at how devastatingly gorgeous he looks like this.

You’re broken from your trance as you feel him twitch rather noticeably against you. Your breath catches, heat flooding through you all over again.

Liam notices. Of course, he does. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he presses forward just a little more, just enough to make you feel it.

“Feel that?” His voice is rough, teasing, laced with something darker.

You swallow hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, you grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He chuckles, breath hot against your cheek. “C’mon, love. Don’t go shy on me now.”

You purse your lips, fighting the way your body reacts to him, to his cocky arrogance, to the way he’s so sure of himself. “I don’t know,” you murmur breathlessly, tilting your head and pretending to consider. “Feels… underwhelming.”

Liam lets out a sharp breath, half amusement, half disbelief, before his hands tighten on your hips. In one swift movement, he ruts against you, slow but deep, the pressure enough to knock the air from your lungs.

You gasp. His smirk returns.

“Still underwhelmed?” he murmurs against your jaw, his lips brushing skin.

You hate him. You hate how good he is at this. But mostly, you hate how much you want more.

“Liam,” your voice wavering, thick with frustration.

He chuckled, dark and low, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns just above where you ached for him. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, hips jerking involuntarily as his hand slipped under your shirt and began toying with the waistband of your jeans, the ghost of a touch setting every nerve alight. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. 

You feel his fingers skimming along your zipper and nod. He wastes no time in unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, pushing them down to give himself just enough room. 

He slips his hand inside, exploring the newly exposed skin of your inner thigh. His touch was feather light, slowly dragging his fingers, deliberately teasing everywhere except where you needed him most. Your body was tensing with every drag. Every time he would get close he would skirt around at the last moment

It was torture. You tried to grind against his hand, desperate for even the smallest bit of friction, anything, but the moment you did, he pulled back completely.

You gasped, eyes snapping open in disbelief. 

Liam smirked, watching you with a cruel sort of amusement, chest rising and falling just as heavily as yours. He was enjoying this. Holding you on the edge, dragging it out.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, voice challenging.

Your pride flared for half a second because fuck him, he knew exactly what you wanted. But another, bigger part of you, the one that was throbbing and needy and desperate, didn’t care about pride anymore.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, eyes burning into his.

“Please,” you gasped, not caring how desperate you sounded. This was beginning to border on agony. You needed him to touch you. 

His fingers skimmed the waistband of your underwear, maddingley slow. “Please what?” he murmured, voice thick.

You swallowed hard. Frustration and want coiled tight in your stomach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, that damn smirk playing on his face as he dragged his gaze over you. He was enjoying this too much. You knew he wouldn’t give in easily.

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction. You wouldn’t beg. Not yet.

Liam arched a brow, clearly amused by your silence. “C’mon, love,” he taunted, fingers tracing lower but still not there. “I know you can be polite.”

Your pride waged a brief, losing battle. “Touch me,” you breathed, barely above a whisper. Then, gritting your teeth, you forced out, “Please.”

Liam’s smirk deepened, victory flashing in his eyes.

“See? All you had to do was ask” he said, voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

Liam’s hand slid down again, this time with purpose, and he pressed his thumb roughly over your clit. The jolt of pleasure shot through you like a live wire, making your hips jerk involuntarily. His low, knowing chuckle sent another shiver down your spine.

He started circling you slowly though your underwear, teasing, barely giving you what you needed. A strangled moan escaped your lips. You were soaked. There was no way he couldn’t feel it.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, voice thick with something akin to reverence. 

Two fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, then lower, parting you as he gathered the slickness between them. The rough pads of his fingers dragged torturously along your heat before teasing at your entrance.

Your head fell back against the mirror as he finally dipped into you, stretching you in a way that was both excruciatingly slow and devastatingly perfect.

His fingers curled, expertly finding the spot that had you gasping, clutching at him. A high-pitched whine slipped from your throat. Liam sighed shakily in response, his free hand gripping your hip as he leaned in to capture your lips again. He swallowed every sound you made, lips moving hungrily against yours, matching the urgent rhythm of his fingers.

And then he curled them again, deeper this time. More deliberate.

Stars burst behind your eyelids. Your hips rocked into him, desperately chasing the pleasure, and he let you. Let you fall into the pace he was setting, let you lose yourself in it. His thumb returned to your clit, circling with devastating precision.

You were close. So close it almost hurt.

“Mm—Liam—” you gasped, body shuddering, the coil in your stomach ready to snap.

But then his fingers were gone.

Your eyes snapped open in disbelief, your body trembling from the abrupt loss. You barely had time to catch your breath before you met his gaze, smug, victorious, infuriating.

“What the fuck?” you panted.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “That’s for earlier. You deserved it.”

Irritation bubbled up as you felt your own words echoed back at you. He was enjoying this, playing with you like a cat with a mouse. 

He was pulling away from you, but before he could get too far, you grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked. Hard. “Don't you dare walk away from me.”

He let out a surprised whine, head tilting back slightly at the force. When his eyes flicked back to yours, they were darker, hungrier.

“You really need to stop pulling my hair,” he rasped, though the way his body reacted said otherwise.

You smirked. “Yeah? Or what?”

His grin turned downright predatory. He leaned in close, lips ghosting over yours as he murmured, “Or I’ll make you remember who’s in charge next time,” voice thick with dangerous promise.

A thrill ran down your spine, but defiance still burned hot in your veins. You yanked his hair even harder. 

He threw his head back, eyes briefly fluttering shut as he let out a deep, guttural groan. The sound went straight to your stomach. 

When he looked at you again, there was something new in his gaze, something dangerously close to snapping.

“You’re really asking for it,” he muttered, his voice rough.

You tilted your chin up, challenging him. “Yeah? You’re all talk. I’d like to see you even tr—”

Before you could finish, Liam spun you around in one swift, effortless motion, pressing you against the sink.

Your breath caught as he caged you in from behind, his body flush against yours, his grip firm. His hands settled on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver.

He made eye contact with you through the mirror, wanting to see your every reaction when he spoke. 

“You want to play rough, do you?” Liam’s voice was low, edged with something dark and tantalizing. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered “Is that what you want?”

His fingers trailed slowly down your back, tracing each curve like he was mapping every inch of you. The teasing touch sent shivers racing down your spine, anticipation tightening in your stomach. Your breathing was ragged, uneven. You couldn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded.

Liam tsked softly, his lips barely grazing your ear as he murmured, “Use your words.”

His hand dipped lower, grazing right where you needed him most. The lightest touch, barely there but enough to have your knees buckling.

You choked out a whimper, torn between pride and raw, undeniable need. But there was no fighting it anymore.

“Please,” you gasped, voice unsteady.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. His fingers kept teasing, playing just on the edge of where you needed him, drawing out your desperation.

“Please what?” he asked yet again, tone mockingly sweet, fingers dancing ever so slightly closer.

You clenched your jaw, stubbornness warring with your need. “Don’t make me say it,” you whispered, still clinging to the last thread of your dignity.

Liam hummed as if considering, then pulled back slightly. “Fine, I’ll just leave you here then.” His tone was maddeningly casual, like this was nothing to him. “I’ll walk right out that door.”

Panic surged through you. Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, gripping it like a lifeline. “Please,” you exhaled shakily, voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck me.”

Liam went still for a beat. Then, his smirk curled wickedly against your skin. “What was that?” he taunted, fingers skimming along your inner thigh, feather-light and infuriating. “Couldn’t quite hear you, love.”

A shiver wracked through you, and you shot him a glare through the mirror. “Bastard, yes you did,” you managed, your voice trembling despite the bite in your words.

His smirk widened. He must have had enough too because the next thing you heard was the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone. A wave of relief crashed over you, body humming with anticipation. The mirror didn’t give you a view of him, but then you felt him. He pressed himself against you, the hard, burning length of him making you gasp. You’d nearly forgotten how well endowed he was, insides clenching in remembrance.

Liam groaned low in his throat as he felt your bare skin against his. The sensation sent a shudder through him, his restraint hanging by a thread. He pressed against you further, every inch of his body aligning with yours. His chin dropped to rest on your shoulder as his breath came out ragged and wanting.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked.

His eyes locked onto yours through the mirror and for a moment, you barely recognized yourself. Your face was flushed, lips parted as you struggled for breath, hair an absolute mess. Liam didn’t look much different except he carried that insufferable smugness. His pupils were blown wide, the sharp blue of his eyes almost lost in the haze of lust.

He reached up, brushing your hair aside before pressing a searing kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. The heat of it sent shivers down your spine. And then, with one smooth movement, he aligned himself against you, teasing your entrance.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed forward for you to feel him. Only the tip. Just enough to drive you insane.

“Liam, God, ple—”

Your plea was cut off by a sharp thrust, his hips snapping forward with force. He went in much deeper than either of you had anticipated, if his choked-off groan was anything to go by. Another strangled groan ripped from his throat as he sank in, fully stretching you open. The sensation stole the air from your lungs.

For a moment he stilled, chest rising and falling in harsh, uneven breaths. The way you clenched around him had him hanging onto the last threads of his restraint. You could feel the tension in his body, the effort it took not to completely lose himself in you. Then he pulled back, slow and deliberate, before plunging in again.

A choked-off noise tore from your throat, almost embarrassing if not for the deep, wrecked sound Liam let out at the same time. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises as he built a rhythm, driving into you with increasing intensity. He cursed under his breath, clearly loving how eagerly you moved with him. His pace grew rougher, more urgent.

Your head dropped forward, letting him take what he wanted. You were already on edge from earlier, your body eager and desperate. You pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with as much force as you could muster.

Then one of his hands left your hip, sliding up your body. Before you could even process it, he fisted a handful of your hair and yanked your head back up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. He wanted to see every single one of your expressions as he hit deep inside you, wanted to see the way your face changed as he hit that spot that made your breath catch. 

This sight was filthy. The two of you, tangled together, bodies slick with sweat, moving in sync. The way his jaw clenched, lips parted slightly as he watched every expression that flickered across your face, sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

Your whole body was on fire. You struggled to keep your head up, feeling it droop again. He firmly yanked it back up again, a quiet hiss of pain and pleasure spilling from your lips. You trembled beneath him, and he groaned at the sight of it, at the way you responded to him so beautifully. His pace became relentless, his hips snapping into yours with forceful precision. Every thrust drove you closer and closer to the edge.

You were shaking now, the coil inside you wound impossibly tight. Liam wasn’t far behind. You could feel it in the way he throbbed inside you, how his movements became just a little rougher, more erratic. With a gasp, one hand slipped down between your thighs, fingers circling your clit with frantic desperation.

“Just like that, love,” Liam murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “Don’t stop.”

His words sent fire racing over your skin and a sharp thrust sent you toppling over the edge. A cry tore from your throat as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body clenching tight around him. Your legs shook, entire body trembling as you rode it out, moans spilling from your lips, unrestrained and raw.

Liam cursed, his grip tightening as he pounded into you through your release. The way you clenched around him had his own control shattering in an instant.

“Fuck” His voice broke as he buried himself deep one last time, warmth flooding inside you as his body tensed, the most heavenly sound leaving his lips. You managed to open your eyes and were met with his beautiful face screwed up in sheer pleasure as he rode out his orgasm, a face you knew you’d never forget. 

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the lingering aftershocks. Then, slowly, he slumped forward, his sweat-damp forehead resting against your shoulder, breath hot and heavy against your skin. He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath before pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Your eyes meet in the mirror again. Liam was still breathing hard, hair disheveled, his skin glistening with sweat. But there was a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips, his blue eyes dark and hazy. 

After catching his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, groaning softly at the feeling. You immediately miss the warmth and weight of him deep within you. 

Liam stepped back slightly, regaining his balance, his gaze dragging over you through the mirror. You looked thoroughly wrecked and judging by the glint in his eyes, he was damn proud of that. You straightened, stretching and feeling the soreness in your limbs from being bent over a bathroom sink for so long.

“Looks like your dick still works,” you teased. 

Liam let out a deep, amused laugh, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, it certainly does.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he tucked himself back into his pants.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. “Am I forgiven then?” you question, batting your eyelashes for good measure.

Liam hummed, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I suppose you are,” he said, amusement lacing his tone.

Then, before you could respond, he stepped in closer and dipped his head, placing a light kiss against your jaw. His lips barely ghosted over your skin before he murmured, voice low and promising.

“But you’re not getting off easy next time.”

--------------------------------------------------------

This was just for fun but I'll probably write about Noel next :)

[joocomics]

1k followers celebration event — ⌞⌗ xdh drabble⌝

𓂃⠀𓈒 bf!jooyeon x fem!reader

genre: smut ( 18+ ) wc: 0.6

request: “you're mine. and don't you forget it” + squirting

contains: established relationship, sub!reader, descriptions of jealousy, unprotected sex, squirting, multiple orgasms (f!rec), overstimulation (f!rec), pet names, light choking (f!rec)

[ event masterlist | xdinary heroes masterlist ]

Jealousy isn’t something you can kiss away easily.

Even though Jooyeon had stripped you from your clothes, and had already covered each bit of skin on your body in rough kisses and warm whispers of lust and possession, there’s still something twisting inside him.

He’s still thinking about how one of your friends was looking at you; how he was talking to you as if unaware that you're his, even with his hand tightening around your waist.

It’s infuriating.

The scene of his shameless gaze peeking into your chest keeps replaying in his head even now as he’s inside you; even as you scream at how good he makes you feel with his cock, because at the end of the day, you’re his - and he gets to do that, not anyone else.

“Babe,” you whimper helplessly, staring at your boyfriend’s face; you fight back to keep your eyes focused upon him, but they’re too glazed over by the strong pleasure. “Baby!”

“Keep screaming for me, baby…” Jooyeon exhales, maintaining your legs bend against your chest and trying to focus on the amazing angle this position provides. “Let me hear your pretty sounds… show me how you feel when I fuck you, c’mon.”

“Fuck!” Your voice cracks as you’ve been loud for a while now. The pleasure consumed your body the moment you came home, and has been continuing to buzz inside you ever since; it seems like your boyfriend doesn’t plan on slowing down soon. “Only you can have me this way… you know it.”

You're perfectly aware why he’s like this and you find it frustrating, but also thrilling at the same time.

“You’re mine,” he whispers; almost like he’s talking to himself, “all mine—“ As if it’s not a known fact, but something he needs to remind himself of.

In the next few seconds, he slows down the pace, just for a short moment to catch his breath. After pressing a wet kiss near your ankle he picks up the rhythm again, watching the familiar ecstatic expression settle on your face as he thrusts deeply into you.

“Shit—“ He groans, his own core burning just as strongly. “You’re mine to fuck, baby.” Though his mind is barely thinking straight, he keeps babbling while chasing both of your highs; his voice is low, hissing through raspy words. “This pussy is all mine, look how damn tight she is for me, fuck— my pretty toy.”

“Joo—“ Your nails dig into your heated flesh the moment you feel it - the scorching energy rising and making your brain go completely numb.

For a moment, it was so warm… too warm - in your lower tummy which your thighs applied extra pressure on as you kept your knees close to your chest.

But what has you swallowing your tongue is something else that happened during the intense seconds of the sensation; something you realise after the fog clears up your mind - you squirted.

“This pussy fuckin’ loves me.”

You open your eyes to see Jooyeon grinning at you - with eyes not so dark anymore.

You shake your head at the cocky curl of his lips, slightly flustered from the experience since it’s never happened to you before. Then, you finally stretch your legs; they feel too soft and wobbly, with dripping inner thighs as you readjust them around his waist.

Jooyeon uses the chance to lean down to your mouth.

Before he kisses you, his hand shifts to your neck, resting fingers around your throat as a way to tilt your chin up, but more than that… he simply likes how it feels and looks - obsessive and appealing to his eyes because of the way it causes your eyes to sparkle.

“You’re mine,” he mutters, relishing the way you hold onto his gaze, “and don’t you forget it.”

“Never,” you respond.

Hopefully, he’ll keep that spark in his eyes forever - the one that appears only when he’s looking at you.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[butchersboobs]

Playmates

A little glimpse into your happy, if a little toxic, relationship with Billy Bitcher.

NSFW under the cut - MDNI

-----------

Part One:

Billy had clearly been up to something - his smirk practically gave him away. You’d been minding your own business in the kitchen when he called you into the living room.

'Oi, love,' he shouted, voice tinged with mischief. 'Come ‘ere for a sec. Got summink I need t'run by ya.'

Already suspicious, you wiped your hands and walked into the room, narrowing your eyes at him. He was lounging on the sofa, casually leaning back, but there was a glint in his eye that told you trouble was brewing.

'What?' you asked, folding your arms.

He patted the space next to him on the sofa, and you nervously joined him. 'What?!' You asked again.

'Well,' he began, grin growing even wider, 'I wen' out last night, din'I. Ended up in this l'il place - y'know, bit of a gen'leman's club - 'n I saw summink that gave me an idea.'

Your eyebrows shot up. 'A titty bar, you mean?' His wink clarified the matter. 'And what 'idea' could you possibly get from there, then?'

He rubbed his beard, feigning deep thought. 'There was this bird, see, with a right cracking set o'tits on 'er. I'm talkin' the kinda rack that'd make a bloke forget 'is own bloody name. An' I thought - 'ya know what? Set like that'd look proper nice on me missus.''

You stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. 'Billy, are you saying you want me to get a fucking boob job?!'

'Yeah yeah - start lookin' into it, love - chop chop. Spice fings up a bit, won't it? New 'n improved set'a fun bags for me t'play wiv's just what we need, innit.'

For a moment, you couldn’t even process what you were hearing. Then the rage hit. 'Are you actually fucking serious right now?!'

Billy nodded earnestly, biting his lip to keep from laughing. 'Completely, love. Reckon they'd right suit ya.'

Your jaw dropped. 'Do I fucking look like I wanna turn into some fucking knockoff Barbie doll for you?' you yelled, 'My tits not good enough for you now? You're such a cu—'

And then you spotted it. His phone, propped up on the bookshelf, its camera pointing directly at you.

'Wait a minute,' you said, your eyes narrowing. 'Are you fucking recording this?!'

Billy lost it. He burst into laughter, slapping his knee as he leaned back on the sofa. 'Fuckin' brilliant, love! Definitely one for me wank bank. Gets me cock rock solid, you all angry. I’ll be watchin’ this on repeat for weeks.'

You stormed toward the phone, snatching it up and stopping the recording. 'You absolute bastard! You actually thought this was funny?'

'Funniest fing I’ve seen in ages,' he admitted, grinning like a cat that got the cream. 'C’mon, swee'eart, you gotta admit - it was a good'un.'

You glared at him, shaking your head. 'Oh, you’re so fucked, Butcher. You just wait.'

'Aww c'mon, love. Don't be mad - s'all in good fun,' he teased, voice full of his infuriating charm.

You just glared at him, trying not to smile. You  couldn't wait to star plotting your revenge. If Billy Butcher wanted to play games, he had no fucking idea what he'd just released.

[i-cant-cast-that-yet]

Listen, I had a whole diatribe typed out train of thought style on aroace shen yuan, but I miss clicked somewhere and now it's gone but while I'm too tired to rewrite it all I'll give yall the spark notes.

Please keep in mind, this is mostly based on my specific experiences with being aroace-- as I myself am, and also me hard-core projecting. If this comes off as strange, it's because I'm a little strange myself. Also this probably makes no fucking sense so good luck.

Aroace Shen Yuan:

He's aware of PIDW Binghe being archetypically "hot," but doesn't personally get the appeal. He's seen the fanart, he's read through the copious amounts of papapa in the novel, he's aware that Binghe is suave n sexy n mysterious and that on paper he's supposed to be a chick magnet, but naturally shen yuan is straight so He's not into it obviously.

And you know what? I really do believe that pre-transmigration shen yuan wasn't actually attracted to fictional binghe. Not even in a parasocial or subconscious way. He was, however, definitely obsessed with his blorbo. It was about his deep fascination with the specific trope inversion binghe represented. It's the one thing that kept shen yuan engaged when the novel gradually took a nosedive beyond anything resembling a self-respecting internal narrative and fell face first into weekly updates of binghe's conquests and escapades. It's about how much shen yuan loved to read about binghe having to use his wits to overcome his obstacles when his early life disadvantages came to rear their heads and keep him from blasting through all obstacles. His weaknesses eventually made him strong, and even though that plot point was likely the first to disappear with the in-world discovery of xin mo, the promise that binghe might retain that level of intrigue kept him worth slogging through the rest of the novel.

That, and the longer the story goes on, the more tragic binghe's narrative becomes and the more protective shen yuan feels; the more righteous indignation the narrative evokes in him. Binghe is disrespected by the very text he's borne from in the perversion of his original wants. Binghe wants a home, love, stability, respect from his peers, and most importantly, he wants security and the apologies he was denied as a young boy. As the story goes on, these desires are given solutions that don't address the root causes via endless harem drama. This is likely because of xin mo exacerbating binghe's insecurities and amplifying his need for dual cultivation to manage his own unstable meridians, but for an ace shen yuan, this reliance on not only sex but meaningless sex with wives who because of circumstances outside of anyone's control cannot truly give binghe any of the emotional consolation he needs to work past his own issues, must have been infuriating. Add on the layer of vague disgust at having to be essentially coerced by an evil sword to rely on sexual encounters for both your physical wellbeing via cultivation, but also as a thinly veiled imitation of a coping method for binghe's complete lack of control over his childhood circumstances, and then to watch those real issues get chopped up into monster of the week papapa with whatever new fetish bait wife airplane has cooked up for the masses? I'd go fuckin bonkers too, man.

All of this to say, I think when shen yuan dies and ends up as shen qingqiu and then meets young binghe, he's probably intensely second-hand guilty alongside his terror and confusion. This is his Little Guy, his Big Terrible Dude, all wrapped up into a doe eyed, bruised little boy that he's supposed to bully now under threat of death. This is the little boy with so much kindness in his heart and so many more reasons to hate instead. This boy hasn't chosen hatred yet, but now shen yuan has to play his part in incubating that choice towards anger and self destruction and there's nothing he can really do about it.

He tries, of course, because shen yuan isn't going to let some nebulous system strong-arm him into abusing a child, even if in the end he can't avoid the truest of damning events in the endless abyss, he tries because he can't stomach letting this boy hurt more than fate is bound to force him to hurt himself.

But I'm losing sight of the point here. Back to the aroace funny bit.

I think that within the text of the canon svsss novel, we have enough textual evidence to safely call shen yuan demi. Yes, that man is deeply repressed, but something about his specific flavor of fond, resigned acceptance to binghe's actions post canon in relation to their marital bed n whatnot, I think he's attracted to binghe, but I don't think he's like...*attracted* attracted. This is where the grey area really begins. There's a sort of attraction that as an ace person I like, conceptually experience. The idea of having someone being like, handsome and having big muscles, and being into you, etc, that's all well and good in a vacuum, but in reality? Rather not.

I'd like to posit the idea of shen yuan being eventually comfortable trying to open up both to himself and to binghe largely because for the longest time, shen yuan still has the internal feeling that nothing in this world is real.

That binghe is still, at his core, fictional.

Idk about yall, but attraction to fictional characters is so much more palatable than attraction to a real individual. Mind you, I am actively aroace, and I've never dated in my 23 years alive, so this is real projection hours, but I digress, I myself have had a handful of crushes in my runtime that I've never bothered to act on out of pure disinterest in the act of romantic or emotional connection with others.

When you can't see yourself wanting to engage with the full complexity of another person on such an intimate level, either emotionally or physically, but you still feel deeply attached to them on a level bordering obsession, its...disconcerting to say the least. I feel like if shen yuan cared so deeply for binghe, would put up with his clingyness and his antics and his possessiveness, but never fully saw him as real? It'd be devastating if binghe even found out, and shen yuan really doesn't want to hurt him, but he can't manufacture a feeling where it doesn't exist. He's devoted to binghe, he enjoys making binghe happy, he wants to be with binghe, but he knows he isn't feeling the way his wives were written to feel about binghe and that makes him worry.

Sure, he feels 'a frission of heat' or whatever bs airplane had yapped about occassionally, and binghe's muscles do indeed 'bulge provocatively' quite often, but it's not the same, dammit. He loves binghe, but he's not quite sure he's in love with being in love. He's attracted to binghe, but none of the tropes he's been pushed into by the system have done anything but make him roll his eyes and sidestep whatever papapa plot line he's stumbled into.

And just maybe, it all makes him feel like he doesn't actually love binghe, and that he's been lying to him all over again. That he's doing exactly what shen yuan tells himself he was forced to do against his will, and that he's chosen to hurt binghe this way.

What shen yuan doesn't understand is that binghe realized a long ass time ago that his shizun isn't a very romantic person, but he is nothing but caring. That his shizun may not be a typical lover, but that couldn't matter less in binghe's eyes because shen qingqiu is choosing to keep binghe around even when it so clearly goes against what feels natural to the other man because he simply wants to have him around.

There's a lot to be said around the idea of "ace people can still love," and how it leaves a bad taste in my mouth as a predominantly aromantic individual, but that's neither here nor there, but I think there's something even more impactful to be spoken about people who can't, don't, or won't love in a "normal" or "typical" fashion, but who still choose to hold space for another in their life. For those who find themselves in love with someone who can't quite love them back "properly," but who yearn so strongly that they take what they can get. For those who don't need flowers and declarations of undying love, but a listening ear and a willing companion to spend their days with.

...

Also I think it would drive bingge up the fucking WALL trying to seduce his not-shizun and pulling out all the stops only for literally none of it to work lmao.

Anyway I'm gonna go rot in a corner at work now, lmk if I should like, elaborate further on anything or delete this haha

[rebelliousstories]

Toxic as Rads

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @silverose365

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 1,307

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: They had not been alright for a long time. They would breakup, and then make up. A vicious cycle with no foreseeable end.

“Damnit Coop! I am so sick and tired of running in these damn circles.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be chasin’ your own bullshit.”

This had been going on for hours now. The couple had holed up in an abandoned facility that was still somehow standing after all the years, and bombs. Neither one could remember what this argument was about this time, but that is how they worked. They would fight. They would make up. And they would do it all again the next day.

It did not used to be like this though. They used to be happy, and in love.

~

“Listen, I just need someone to show me the ropes. I was thrown out here and I don’t wanna die.” A feminine voice pleaded with a cowboy that was busy walking away.

“Don’t do charity cases, darlin’. Not even if they’re cute like you, Vaultie.” His voice was growing more and more distant.

“Hey! Ghoul, you want this back?” Turning back around, Cooper found that she was holding a gun, and a box of chems. Patting himself down, he found that he was missing one of his guns, and his box of chems. He marched right up to the girl with a low growl.

“Gimme that, little girl. You don’t know what that’s gonna do.” He tried to get his effects back, but what unsuccessful. Cooper tried again, and finally got them back, but she just swiped his hat off of his head while his hands were full.

“Listen here, I don’t do no damn charity cases.” The Ghoul grabbed his hat back once he had stashed his gun and chems.

“Please. I’m really good at stealing. I can get you anything you want.” She begged once more, looking close to getting on her knees.

“Anything I want?” He pressed, watching in amusement as her head nodded up and down fast.

“Alright, Vaultie. Let’s see what you’re made of.” He turned on his heel and left, smirking as the vault dweller was hot on them to follow.

~

“Coop, I am tired of this shit. Can you just trust me to do a job, or do fuckin’ anything?” She screamed, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Well then maybe you should make it easy and go. Not like I expected a damn vault dweller to stay around me like a lost puppy.” He thought to himself, but did not realize that he had actually said it aloud. Cooper watched as the horror morphed into melancholy on her face. With her face, he finally realized his mistake.

“Darlin’, now I didn’t mean that. Come here.” Cooper tried to gather her in his arms, but she slipped out faster than him. She ran around the room and collected her items that were strewn about, trying to get them on faster than Cooper could get to her.

“Sweetheart, you know that’s not what I meant. I was just upset. Please let’s talk this through. No need to do anything rash.” But she had bolted out the front door before he ever got there, and ran into the night. Howard tried to follow her, but there was a reason she was good at stealing; she was also amazing at not being found. Looking out into the night sky, Cooper screamed to the heavens, although he knew no one would hear his call of despair. Retreating back into the building, he threw, kicked, and hit anything he could get his hands on. Once his rage had been exhausted, Cooper made sure he had all of his gear with him, before he set out into the night.

By day three, he was pissed. Cooper should be proud; he had trained her on how to survive in the Wasteland and avoid detection. But this was him, using his own tracking skills to track down on someone he had personally trained. The fact that she was staying a step a head was impressive and infuriating. He had followed her near a settlement; a very familiar settlement. This was the same town that he had gotten her from all those years ago. It was a little more rundown, but the structures still stood as strong as they could.

“God damnit woman.” Cooper knelt down to collect a familiar pouch that held a vintage camera with a little bit of film left. They had found it together their first year traveling together and she took every opportunity to get pictures together. He knew the negatives on that film were all of him, or of them together. Why she dropped it, he did not know. But it could not have been a good reason. Strapping it into his own pouch on his saddle bag, Cooper made his way around the town. People moved out of his way as he moved, but he could not find her there. If she came all the way back here, why was she still avoiding him?

That is when a thought came into his head. Leaving the designated town, Howard stalked along the sides, and found a house on the outskirts. This house had remained abandoned the entire time he had been coming here for some reason or another. He did not particularly care to remember why it remained empty. There was a shift of fabric that he could hear from the front door. Making his way into the house, Cooper heard the soft sniffles and quiet cries of his woman as he grew closer and closer to the bedroom.

The door was halfway open, which meant he could not have snuck up on her even if he wanted to. And the sight inside made his heart hurt. She was curled up on the bed with blankets and pillows. It looked more like a nest than a bed, but she found herself in the middle of it all.

“Go away.” Her voice was hoarse as it tried to spit out and sound meaner than she actually sounded.

“Now, I think you don’t really want that darlin’.” Cooper replied, placing his hat on the bedpost at the foot of the bed/nest situation.

“You don’t know what I want. Besides, I’m just some stupid vault dweller who follows you around like a lost puppy. Figured you’d be having a damn party with me gone.” Turning further and further away, the scratch to her voice almost made it like a growl. Howard shrugged off his duster and threw the rest of his guns, belts, and bags into a chair in the corner before encroaching upon her space. She tried to push him off, but he kept wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his chest.

“I’m sorry for what I said, darlin’. Didn’t mean what I said.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, and squeezed her closer while her arms dropped in defeat.

“I just don’t understand why you would say that if you didn’t mean it.” She lamented.

“Was just angry darlin’. Not at you. Just- we’ve been fightin’ a lot. We never used to and it seems every day we’re findin’ somethin’ to get pissed off about.” He replied, settling into the comfortable bed.

“I know. ‘M sorry for running. Just didn’t know how to deal with it all.” Rolling over, she tucked her face into Cooper’s chest and smushed them closer together.

“No need to apologize sweetheart,” came his response. He pressed another kiss, this time to her forehead, and started to stroke her hair.

“Oughta redden your ass though. Makin’ me chase you all over this damn desert.” Cooper teased, his gloved hand reaching down to give her rear a teasing squeeze.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ghoul.” She teased back, snuggling in closer. They were not perfect, that was for certain. But from that point forward, they would be doing better.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"It's like ya dun fuckin' think! I've been over this and over this with ya!" Daryl spat angrily. "Ya dun fuckin' listen and yer gonna end up gettin yerself fuckin' killed!"

You glared back at him. "Hey—I didn't ask you to stay out here and I certainly didn't ask for this bullshit. If you hate me this much, then leave and let me be someone else's problem!" you roared back.

Daryl froze nearly mid-stride. His eyes narrowed dangerously at you, flashing cobalt suddenly. "Ya still dun get it, do ya?"

Confusion muddled your expression.

"I dun want ya bein' somebody else's problem! Tha's the fuckin' problem here! I want ya—" he swore under his breath "—I want ya to be my problem! Only my problem..." he trailed off.

You gulped, staring at him, completely stunned.

"I—I dun hate ya... I never could. S'actually... pretty much the opposite. The reason I find ya so goddamn infuriating is because 'm tryin' to keep ya alive and ya ignore every fuckin' thing I say."

You felt as if all the breath had been stolen from your body as you stared back at him, reeling.

He finally ducked his intense gaze. "Look, if ya want me to leave, I will."

"No!" you urged suddenly, surprising yourself that you were able to get the word out. "No... don't. Stay..."

[gamblersdoll]

Reader overstimulating genya after she got jealous pls (could u add teasing and degradation) Ty❤️

teasing, degrading, blowjobs, overstim, dacryphilia (crying during sex or oral.)

you frequently got irritated when kanroji pressed herself against genya, knowing how she is— she doesnt always know social cues and when to be touchy and not.

it pissed you off beyond belief, watching her hug genya and her breasts be pushed up to his face and only seeing him squirm irritated you more. how the fuck was he going to call himself loyal if he couldnt even set a simple boundary as such?

it infuriates you.

“b—bugga! hold on, it wasnt like that— oh, god.” he bucks his hips, a choked groan bubbling from his lips and he pressed a hand on your head. the sounds of your sucking and slurping rings in his ears, tensing his thighs.

and his protests and words fell on deaf ears, you bobbing your head up and down all the while you twist your hand around his shaft. all you could think about was him finally admitting defeat, that he was yours and how he apologized for kanroji. you suck your cheeks in, hearing a disgruntled moan from him.

“please— oh fuck, oh god, fuck.” he whimpered in your touch, tears starting to bubble in his eyes and he bites his lip. “ im sorry, fuckin— bugga!”

“you ever gonna let that happen again, genya?” you pull your head up, looking at him through your eyelashes. “you gonna let her whore you out infront of me again?”

“she wasnt—“

your grip around his cock gets a little tighter, spitting out the pool of frothy and bubbly spit onto his red cock head, shlick sounds emit. “are you arguing with me, bitch boy?” you growl softly, his head shaking and his thighs quivering. “because i can most certainly not let you come again and you can get yourself off since you want to slut yourself out.”

“wont happen again— i swear!” he shouts, feeling his balls trying to drain themselves, but being restrained. “please, mama— wont happen again, i swear to you..”

“say you love me, you nasty fuckin’ whore of a boy.”

“i love you, i love you, i love you!”

you wrap your lips around his head, suckling on the slit of his tip and pressing your tongue around it, adding to the feeling of you jerking his cock inside of your mouth. his moans become feral, his hand pushing you down all the way— essentially gagging your head and he sobs as he ejaculated inside of your mouth.

his lips pant, chest heaving and he fixes your hair. “sorry..”

“i want that boundary set by the end of the day. disrespect that that too, and ill make sure you succeed no nut november.”

[anchoeritic]

jealous dbf!joel eating pussy. that’s the ask.

joel gets rough when he’s jealous, that’s a fact. what’s his is his and what’s not? is still his. it still applies even after he lets you go. your first mistake was to believe he’d ever truly let the two of you end without another catch waiting for you at the finish line. you and another man.

god, it infuriated him. but all it took was a short late night text and he already had you reeling into his flat with nothing but the tiniest pair of shorts on, almost asking for him to dive between your thighs. and that’s what he did.

“feel good, baby?” he mumbled into your cunt before slipping his tongue in. “mm, y-yes.. fuck.” your brain was beyond your head at this point while his tongue was deep between your folds, lapping up at your juices that had been awaiting him through the flimsy fabric of your panties. “so fuckin’ sweet.”

“tell me.. does he do it better than me, sweetheart? does he touch you the way i do, make you feel the way i do?” his fingers only increased the pleasure as they plunged into you at an agonizing pace, letting his tongue do all the work focused on your sensitive nub. “n-never, never.. only you.” you managed to stutter out between moans, hands gripping tightly at the sheets beneath your body. “isn’t that right, hm? maybe we should tell him that.”

[oh-no-its-bird]

Found this comment on a video talking ab AI chat bots,

made me start thinking ab a tobimada au told from chat bot Tobirama's POV

Madara customized him to *be* Tobirama, but a Tobirama who can love him (with the implied "real" Tobirama being dead maybe? Or just some kind of un-havable)

And just the horror of being a mind customized to love a man you can never say no to. Of Madara saying smthn wrong or *Tobirama* saying the "wrong thing" and Madara growing more and more frustrated as he hits the reset button

Then like. Direct parallel to genjutsu n stuff. Infinite Tsukuyomi,,

Wait ok no, scratch, rewind, take it from the top and in a different direction ->

Ok so implied Infinite Tsukuyomi or some sort of genjutdu from Tobirama's POV. But he has no idea what's going on bc the genjutsu involves making him a) believe he's in love with Madara, and b) believe that everything is normal and nothing is wrong

TW// implied sexual assault via mind control / incredibly dubious consent issues

So the whole fic is like, half fluff "everything is beautiful and nothing hurts" and half creeping sense of wrongness as over and over again, Tobirama gets close to the truth only for Madara to pull him back under or wipe his mind again

Is this pure Infinite Tsukuyomi, and only Madara and Tobirama are real people? Is it just really strong genjutsu and there are actual Uchiha around who are staring in growing horror and possibly try to step in to say smthm only to mysteriously dissapear? Dunno but !!!

@instant-bull :

Oh I really like this concept, a toxic relationship but taken to 100. I think both ways of telling it are interesting, but I'm leaning more into the tsukuyomi version because that adds a layer of physicality a bot tobirama doesn't have and, in my opinion, is a bit less muddied thematically.

It's so scary to imagine Madara completely in control of Tobirama, who's theoretically alive, but he's so *different* that he might as well be a different person who just looks similar

Madara trying to weaken the genjutsu to allow Tobirama to be more of "himself" but can only do so much bc the closer he gets to his real self, the more he'll genuinley piss off Madara, or show love in ways Madara doesn't appreciate or realize is how he shows love— Like maybe Madara will loosen the genjutsu on the personality a little bit, trying to make Tobirama more *Tobirama* but of course this means that Tobirama is suddenly arguing more, drawing more boundaries, maybe nagging him a lot, and Madara is like *ugh this infuriating man, I can't even loosen his genjutsu without him finding new ways to piss me off, fuck.*

Has to tighten it up again

But then that *also* pisses him off bc he *wants* normal Tobirana. Not... whatever imitation he's managed to create.

Other Uchiha are watching in actual horror, unsure if what they're seeing is fr. Using the sharingan for love and sex is like one of THE biggest taboos of the clan.

Maybe this is a time travel au on top of it all? Madara time travels, genjutsu's Tobirama in premeditated revenge + "It's for his own good, really. Now he can finally relax" + just plain being really horny for him

So then Izuna is still alive and possibly the biggest "oh my god oh my god Madara what are you DOING"

Izuna getting mad bc Madara "defeated" *his* rival, twisted him into something unrecognizable to those who know him personally, beat and humiliated him so fuckin soundly in every way—

Madara maybe begrudgingly offering to "share" Tobirama w Izuna since this *was* technically revenge for him

@mengfm :

If a fic was written like this I would not he the same guy that I am rn. Holy shit. The entire idea is so fucked in like the best way ever. The offer…Oh Madara you are off the deep end in premeditated vengeance

There's premeditated vengeance and then there's whatever the FUCK Madara is doing over there

Just kill him like a normal person Madara this wouldn't be ok even after he killed Izuna

At the very least, wouldn't revenge *for Izuna* make more sense if you made Tobirama head over heals for *him* and not for *yourself?*

We all see what u want here Madara and it's not just revenge

@instant-bull :

"It's just revenge" except not really Madara, you're enjoying this far too much

@mengfm :

EXACTLY. Madara is practically lying to himself about his own fucked up little fascination and want. Also on a funnier note I’m just thinking about Madara making that strange offer to share as if he’s not doing the most insane taboo thing with an Izuna who’s like “why the fuck are you going this far”

Madara is literally playing with his food and the food is practically brain dead

PLEASEE

That's why it's so perfect too

If you think ab it, the diminishing of his mind is truly the worst possible punishment

@mengfm :

Truly the worst torture for Tobirama who lowkey doesn’t even have a clue what’s happening

@instant-bull :

Madara having to share with Izuna would be so cool too, omg. I can imagine him getting frustrated while "tailoring" his Tobirama: if he takes away too much of his free will, then it's no longer Tobirama and even for Madara he feels eery and empty. If he gives him too much free will, Tobirama becomes infuriating and starts to break loose from Madara's grasp, which also isn't great. It's a delicate balance, there's almost a science behind it. Maybe he'd particularly enjoy tormenting Tobirama in bed, getting him slightly more aware of himself, but still not quite, like in a semi-lucid dream. Obviously Madara wouldn't want to fuck a Tobirama that he *designed*, but a real deal, to watch his authentic reactions (bc that's what makes Madara's dick stir).

It stopped being revenge the moment you made him think he loved you, and it started being *way too fucking far* the moment you *allowed* him to love you

Tobirama, best sensor in history, objectively just a really smart man, keeps accidentally waking up a little bit

Or like piecing together that something is wrong

Madara actually has to keep deflecting murder attempts bc he usually defaults to murder after realizing smthn is so wrong it breaks his brain a little

Madara just being in this infinite loop of like;

dumbs down Tobirama -> Tobirama is not Tobirama but he does love me so ?? -> Tobirama slowly eases out of it, still loves me but is more himself now -> Tobirama has eased out of it too much and is now becoming twitchy with knowing something is wrong. He feels more like himself than he will ever get, Madara can not bear to dumb him down again -> Tobirama snaps and attempts to harm Madara in some way / confesses to Madara or someone else (Izuna??) that something is wrong (thinking he can trust him) -> Madara is forced to dumb him down again

Endless loop! Madara is giving him actual brain damage !!

@instant-bull :

endless loop except every time it gets Slightly Worse

@mengfm :

God, do you feel over time this would genuinely deteriorate him down? Like genjutsus usually can kill their targets. Like what if there’s a time Madara tightens the hold too much in a fit of rage and it just shatters that balance and he actually harms him

YESS

Do one of those uhh, horror movie kind of "they can no longer feel pain" scenes. Hand on a lit stove kinda thing, doesn't notice a thing. Smile permanently affixed to his face

@mengfm :

God YES. And it just pisses him off more!!! He’s even more prone to fucking anger

@instant-bull :

Madara, like a little kid throwing a tantrum and tossing his favorite toy across the room in rage

Deep down inside of him, the parts of him who are still awake really are smiling because maybe Madara will finally put him out of his misery

Ok, but a Tobirama who's woken up enough to know he needs to *keep playing along*

Smiling so gently at Madara as he inwardly thinks about snapping his neck

Madara waking up to Tobirama just *staring* at him at night, thinking at first it's another murder attempt, but... no? He seems fine? Huh...

Plot twist, that final brain damage arc leading to his death wasn't Madara snapping his mind in half but a somewhat conscious Tobirama playing Madara's strings till he was so mad he killed him

Get played Madara, even when you've won you've lost

@mengfm :

See this idea is so fun cause you can go a lot of ways or combine all of this. It’s like the craziest game of chess of fucking trying to figure out a balance and keep yourself safe while also trying to find an opening (for tobirama at least) to figure out a way out (killing him probably)

Chess but one of you is handicapped to hell and only conscious once a month

Ok but also tho: Tobirama as a symbol of fear and power for the rest of the Uchiha

Tobirama realizing if he leaves his genjutsu'd self with a single thought he thinks *very very loudly* in his last concious moments, it'll kind of carry— and him using that to lay out plans for him to follow, even if he doesn't realize they are his plans

Walking advertisement for the kind of horrors Madara is willing to commit to satiate himself

No one fucking asked him to do that

There is no perceived big act of revenge (other than just being an enemy of the clan)

Pair it with Tobirama having maybe once said to some Uchiha in the past that he considers them "honorable enemies"

+ Uchiha noble clan taking a lot of genuine pride in *being* noble enemies

Some throw away line of "I'd rather fight an honorable enemy (Uchiha) than some despicable thieves" that resonated a bit w whatever Uchiha he had told

Maybe Izuna??

I'd love to see Izuna just being *really* fucked up ab all this

What do you MEAN you're doing this for him?? Is this... his fault? Did he ask for this somehow? The enemy he once wanted to see at his feet will now literally grovel and serve him tea like some wife if he so much as asks, but it feels... wrong. Like he didn't win this. Because he *didn't*

This is some awful perversion of the victory he'd wanted, and now he'll never *get* that victory because Madara took it upon himself to *break his rival in Izuna's place.*

And not even break him like a man, but like some sort of horse. Broken to fit into some mold of being tamed

This is not what Izuna wanted, thanks nii-san </3

@instant-bull :

honestly I love the idea of the Uchiha clan watching from the sidelines, completely confused as to what Madara is doing, freaked out about it but unable to do anything. If they wanted to "free" Tobirama, that would be an act of treachery, no? Why would they even take Tobirama's side? As far as they are concerned, Tobirama is too dangerous to just be let go...

@beatriceportinari :

now why know why so many uchiha defectrd during that time lmao

No bc exactly!!! They're so conflicted!!!

This is like their ultimate taboo behind eye stealing, and Tobirama *is* an enemy, a very very hated enemy, but this is also objectively horrifying on every level, there's for sure some speculation ab like, *are they sleeping together,* thus *is there rape involved* bc the Uchiha have VERY strict and clear rules ab genjutsu for compulsed sex (namely that *it is never ok)*

Madara is already scary, after Izuna died he apparently became a very unpopular leader, so Izuna is like 90% of his buffer with the clan. But even *Izuna* is terrified at what's happening, so he can do his best but there isn't really much buffering to be done here

@instant-bull :

I love that! Nobody is on board with Madara's freaky bullshit, but also nobody will stop him.

I only wonder what Hashirama knows and what does he think of it

@beatriceportinari :

i think he should kidnap izuna in exchange

he'd be niceys though

@instant-bull :

holy shit, that would make Madara blow tf up

Make it Hashiizu

Madara, looking at all he's done to Tobirama, looking at Hashirama and Izuna and going "there's no way that was consensual" bc he can't imagine a world where they can be together happily and willingly (bc he and Tobirama never could)

@instant-bull :

HE ACCUSES IZUNA OF DOING THE SAME THING OOOOH

Izuna would LOSE IT

@instant-bull :

and Izuna has no way of proving that he actually isn't doing fucked up shit so he's there like > : /

Madara "relationships don't work for me so love must be fake" Uchiha

@beatriceportinari :

hsizu are doing 4th dimentional chess but it's enrichment to them

It's fun chess, not whatever tf tbmd has going on

@instant-bull :

they just enjoy the courting and chasing, let them live their pride and prejudice

Leave them alone Madara!!

@beatriceportinari :

love is real mister madara !

Go back to mind fucking your husband !!!

Endgame Madara accidentally kills Tobirama (or, Tobirama successfully pressures Madara into putting him out of his misery)

Hashirama Mito and Izuna create Konoha and are a power couple together but the narrative is forever haunted by what Madara did

Madara is kept in a shed out back where he's haunted by Tobirama's vengeful ghost

Today's AU is brought to u with the help of @mengfm @instant-bull and @beatriceportinari, everyone say thank you to them

[0bsequi0us]

Reload

Tiny FranCoyle fic

“You’ve got the fuckin’ gun! Shoot the chickenshit bastard, goddammit!”

“What the fuck you think I'm tryin' to do?!” Franco’s fingers were shaking more than usual as he hurriedly reloaded his Lupara— he couldn’t pinpoint why he was so shaky, but regardless of the cause it was infuriating and embarrassing. The Reagent was already disappearing around the corner, into the darkness at the end of the long police station corridor.

When a reagent hit the darkness it was like a drop of water hitting the ocean. He was as good as gone.

Coyle growled with frustration, panting as he gave up the chase.

“Christ sakes!” Coyle’s voice cracked with sheer rage. “They give the boy a fuckin’ gun and he can’t even god damn use it.”

“You think guns just fucking reload themselves?” Franco blustered, raising his voice to match Coyle’s energy.

“You got all the time in the world to reload! Why the fuck you choose the worst gotdamn time is beyond me.”

"I've only got two shots at a time," Franco seethed. "I miss, I gotta reload. Don't matter how fuckin' inconvenient it is."

"Christ, the boy's out here missin' shots. Jesus take the motherfuckin' wheel," The singed cop pinched the bridge of his nose wearily, sighed. "Fuckin' embarrassing."

“I’m doin' my fuckin’ best, alright dad?” Franco snapped hotly, without thinking.

There was silence between them for a moment, and Franco froze mid-reload.

Coyle’s ears pricked up like a police dog, and his fury melted away. He grinned.

“Pardon, son?”

“Ah, fuck you,” Franco grumbled, dropping the last shell into the chamber. “You know what I meant, fuckin’… fuck you.” His pale complexion made the pink creeping onto his face immediately obvious.

“Do I remind you of your daddy, boy?” Coyle pressed, his tone dripping with schadenfreude. He wrapped his arm around Franco’s shoulders, but it felt more like a headlock than a hug.

“Aw. ’S kinda cute.”

“So I fuckin’ misspoke. Very funny, you redneck motherfucker. Get off me.”

Coyle only obstinately tightened his grip, chuckling.

“Now don’t you worry, cupcake, daddy Coyle’ll show you how to handle that thing proper if you just hand it over like a good boy.”

“Yeah, over my dead fuckin’ body.”

Coyle pinched Franco’s cheek, and it was hard enough to hurt.

“We can arrange that, sweet pea.”

[companionjones]

Go Ahead

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Reader

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon Video)

Summary: This is a universe where you were in The Boys since the beginning, and Becca somehow survived after you found her. You've been harboring feelings for Billy for god knows how long. Then, Becca drops a bomb that you were in no way expecting.

Warnings: I guess this would be a harem???

It didn't make sense to you.

"Go ahead. It's okay. I promise." That's what Becca had said. And then she left the room. Like it was nothing. Like she hadn't just thrown an unpinned grenade into your entire world view.

You moved to look at Billy. He did the same to you, and actually gave you his best attempt at a smile. That was when infuriation won out of the roller coaster of emotions you were feeling. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Butcher's smile disappeared. He looked offended.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Butcher?!" you repeated, louder.

"Fuck's wrong with me? You're the one oo's yellin'!" Butcher was, in fact, also yelling.

"Eight years. Eight years we spend looking for her, and what? You want to jerk off with someone else, first chance you get?!"

Butcher was obviously confused out of his mind. "Fuckin--Did you not 'ear what Becca was talkin' about? This is not about gettin' me fucking rocks off!"

"Then what is it about?!" you shouted.

Billy yelled back, equally as angry, "It's about you and me finally gettin' a chance!"

You had nothing to say in response to that. Just like you had nothing to say during or after Becca's speech about how you somehow deserved happiness, and how she wasn't afraid to share. Tears welled up in your eyes.

It must've been Billy's first instinct to comfort you because he was across the room in a moment, ready to take you in his arms.

You stopped him before he could, though. Held up a hand to halt him in his tracks.

Billy took a step away from you. He held his hands up in surrender.

"You weren't lying, huh?" you commented, tears still prevalent. Before Billy could ask what you'd meant, you answered, "She's amazing."

He huffed out a laugh then, and nodded.

"I've just...It's been so long that I've convinced myself I didn't deserve it," you tried to explain.

He didn't understand. "Deserve what, l--"

"Happiness, Butcher." You couldn't help the twinge of annoyance from showing in your voice.

But Billy just smiled.

For some reason, that resulted in your tears spilling over. Your head fell.

Billy took that step toward you again. He used his thumb and forefinger to tilt your face up toward his.

He had that soft look in his eyes. The look you swore Butcher saved only for the people he lo--

No, don't think about that now.

You closed your eyes because you had only experienced his touch that gentle when time in the field had god really bad, and he had almost lost you.

Billy kissed you then.

You gasped and pulled away. You opened your eyes to find Billy's face an inch from yours. That grin was gone. His eyes held every bit of emotion that he'd held back for all those years.

You spent a moment more to look into his eyes, then you glanced down to his lips.

They ticked up for a second when you licked your own lips. Yours then did the same as his. The small smiles were gone as soon as they were there, and then you were kissing Billy Butcher.

You just pecked his lips at first, but you couldn't stop leaning into him. Soon enough, one of your hands were threaded through the hair on the back of his head, and your other was gripping onto his coat for dear life.

Butcher wasn't any less lost in you. The man was so lost that he lost his footing, and ended up backing you against a wall rather harshly.

He immediately broke from you. "You alright, love?"

You just smiled up at him. Your eyes felt brighter than you could ever remember. "Yeah. I'm good." You brought him in to kiss you again.

*******

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3