SPIT
♰ ; synopsis: after a series of suspicious events, you finally figure out his secret after the combination of his multitude of gifts containing wearable silver jewellery, and his possessive lurking backstage and more specifically, the way he whines around your fingers.
♰ ; pairing: 90's era werewolf!liam x stage handler fem!reader ♰ ; wordcount: 4.8k ⸸ ; warnings: nsfw, 18+, sub!liam, semi-public sex, messy sex, whining, begging, finger sucking, masochism / pain kink, hair pulling, penetrative sex, dry humping + frottage, oral fixation, smoking (reader smokes), shotgunning, sexual tension, finger sucking, face slapping, etc!
a/n: creds to my beloved pookie @soerikacanwait for the finger sucking idea...hehe, enjoy! x lowk not my best, sorry guys <3
a few days had passed since you last saw liam; he had kept true to his word to take care of your hangover, which part of you expected for him to be at your front door early in the morning with a bag full of groceries. but clearly, it more so meant him leaving you a little care package on your doorstep, a little note attached, signed only with his initials.
you had rummaged through the bag, gratefully taking a swig of the cold lucozade, easing that sickly dryness seeping through your mouth, before noticing a small glimmer down the bottom of the bag. you fished around for it, which ultimately resulted in you tipping everything out of the plastic bag, only for a dainty silver ring to clammer down against the wooden floorboards.
you fumble to pick it up as it spins, heart lurching in your throat at the gesture. you convince yourself he must've dropped it in there mistakenly — surely it was his own, there's no way he bought it for you, right?
the ring had a relatively thin band, embossed with a few decorative swirls. it was subtle, and something so undeniably him that it made your heart hurt. through the painful, cloudy haze of your hangover, you slipped the ring onto your finger, honestly a little surprised at how well it fit. and there was no possible way that any of liam's rings would fit your own hands — there was a very clear difference between you and his hands.
nausea trickles over in your stomach, either from the implied admission of his gift, or from your hangover, you're not sure. yet, you clamber over to your toilet, regretting last night's mistakes as your head throbs, and your stomach slushes with each and every move.
you don't see liam for the next couple of days like you usually do; you don't see him lingering in your local grocer, or taking a walk in your nearby park, you don't even see him lingering outside the venue. it's odd, and a little unsettling. honestly, you're beginning to wonder if something happened to him, until you find another little note perched upon your doorstep.
“sorry for the radio silence. gig tnite. 7pm - LG x”
you smile to yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart stammers at the small 'x' dotted next to his initials. you look back down at the ring on your finger, shaking your head softly before tucking the note into your pocket and going back about your day.
you don't see him until you take your break, sneaking out the back door to take a quick smoke, trying to ease the stress wound up tight in your body. some kid had broken a brand new subwoofer by dropping it after ignoring explicit instructions from you to not do that, a band had changed their set times last minute forcing you to haul ass to get everything organised, and worst of all you had felt those fucking eyes on you again. like someone was lingering, just watching.
“'ey there stranger,” liam's voice floats through the air, his warmth following as he slides up next to you, holding out his hand expectantly. “smokin' without me?”
“how forward, considering you went awol,” you bite back with a small smile, rolling your eyes as he grins cheekily at you, eyes bright and his smile even brighter. you scoff before fishing out your pack of smokes, and flicking open the lid towards him. he plucks one from you, muttering a small thanks. “seriously, where'd you go? thought you died or something.”
“oh y'know,” liam shifts uncomfortably as he pops the unlit cigarette into the corner of his mouth. “band shite and allat.”
“huh,” you nod, not believing him for even a second. just as you open your mouth to question him, liam's warm palm slides over the back of your head, pulling you inwards as the other holds his cigarette against yours, lighting his own. he lingers there for a little longer than necessary, staring down at you intently through his thick eyelashes.
your heart jumps, eyes widening slightly before he pulls back like nothing happened. his lips curl into a cocky smirk as you awkwardly try and regain your composure, inhaling faster than usual like it'll help ease your jittering limbs.
“nice ring,” he comments after a beat of silence, gesturing to where the silver ring sits dormant around your finger. “looks like the person who gave 'ya that had good taste, eh?”
“you wish,” you scoff with a shy smile. “...what's the deal with it?”
“found it 'nd thought 'ya would like it, me,” liam keeps his answer short, unable to meet your eyes. you tilt your head as you turn your body to face him, keen on interrogating him further. you swear you can see his pulse tick against his neck as he shyly looks over at you, his cheeks tinted with the lightest shade of pink. “what?”
“careful, gallagher,” you chime playfully, holding up your hand and wiggling your fingers playfully at him, the silver catching in the light. “might start to think you actually like me or something...”
“mhm, maybe,” he breathes out, eyes narrowing inwards ever so slightly. you freeze for a second, breath hitching in your throat as he stares down at you. you shrivel underneath his intense gaze, suddenly starting to feel like some sort of prey. “would that be so bad?”
a beat.
“...no.”
“thought i said 'ya should stay away from the big bald wolf of britpop,” liam's voice drops an octave, his chin tilting downwards as he steps closer. your eyes drop to his lips, watching as he takes another drag before gripping your chin, fingers imprinting into your jaw. he leans down as his fingers drag your jaw downwards, forcing you to open your mouth. he breathes the smoke into your mouth, watching as your entire body melts into him, like something so pliable. “shush, stay still f’me.”
you're too stunned to respond, your entire body locking up as a warmth spreads through your body, simultaneously loosening your joints, just letting him take control. liam notices — he always does — and his lips tick into a open-mouthed smile, eyes flickering over your face before slowly stepping back. his fingers slide from your jaw down to your chin, tapping upwards and forcing your mouth to snap shut. his lips curl into a self-satisfied smirk as he leans back against the brick wall, taking another drag as if nothing happened.
your thighs are shaking ever so softly, eyes wide and doe-like as that familiar, impatient ache begins to throb through your lower abdomen. your cheeks warm under his knowing gaze, eyes averting down to the ground as you clear your throat, popping your cigarette back into your mouth.
“well,” he begins, forcing himself to ignore that sickly sweet smell beginning to fill the air. he clears his throat, dropping the butt of the cig onto the floor and crushing it into hot ash with the tip of his foot. “i'll catch 'ya inside, huh, pretty?”
“yup!” you reply as normally as you can, even though you both know you're not fooling anyone. liam lets out a quiet chuckle before shooting you a grin and a quick little wink, pushing the door back open and slinking back inside a little hurried. you let out a breath you hardly knew you were holding in, nerves fluttering inside you so violently that you honestly felt a little light-headed. “jesus fucking christ...”
you press a knuckle against your eyebrow, letting out a shaky sigh and shutting your eyes in an attempt to relieve the nerves bundled inside you. you tilt your head backwards until it knocks against the brick wall, bringing your cigarette back up to your lips. you hurriedly finish the rest of your cig, trying to avoid the onslaught of spiralling thoughts as quickly as you can. you busy yourself for the rest of the day; cleaning up everyone else's mistakes, ordering new equipment, making sure everything is order before liam goes on stage. anything to keep your mind from straying too far. you avoided areas you knew liam would be — green rooms, the bar, and even those corridors you've seen him hovering around before.
liam knew. of course he did. so, he kept his distance, observing from afar, waiting to pounce. noel’s warnings swirled in his head as he watched, his moral compass begging for him to not get involved. but it was a little too late for that, huh?
20 minutes until he’s on stage and he’s sitting on some unoccupied BLACKBOX, tapping his foot impatiently as he watches you scurry around, directing your team. his tongue rolls over his bottom lip, fingers moving to scratch under his jaw, eyes narrowing inwards as your usually quiet voice booms across backstage.
he’s familiar with assholes taking charge while they did nothing — believe him, he’s had more than his share dealing with his pompous older brother. but seeing you in your element, clipboard in hand and your cute little headset as you lecture some poor kid who almost cost your company another couple grand in equipment, had liam’s heart racing faster than usual.
you dipped your head as you slid your headset off, slipping off your mic pack and placing it on some nearby table. liam sat still, completely oblivious to the world around him as he watched with tunnel vision, his body eerily still. he could hear the blood rushing in his ears, an electric thrum ticking under his skin, causing his heart to race faster and faster. his eyes tracked you as you quickly walked off backstage, slipping behind a curtain to sneak into the crowd.
liam’s lips ticked into a small smile, his leg beginning to jump as he leant back with a quiet sigh.
“ah, liam, there you are!” the stage manager called out, almost making liam bristle. “you’re on in five, and y/n said goodluck.”
“oh,” his lips stretched into a wolfish grin, a warmth spreading through his chest “did she now?”
with a newfound confidence and motive to perform, liam strutted onto the stage, raising his hands and gesturing for the crowd to cheer as he yelled something you could never decipher. he immediately took control of the room, boasting about like that cocky front-man persona you had seen in the news. nothing like the liam gallagher you smoked with outside — no longer a humble, boyish guy who happened to have an abundance of cheek. no, on stage he was someone different, someone who could command the room without lifting a single finger.
“are yer' mad fer' it?!”
as their set progressed, you stood in the swaying crowd, staring up at him with stars in your eyes, a wide smile plastered on your face. liam's eyes would catch your own, lips ticking into a smile as sweat dripped from his brow. his eyes were heavy as he stared down at you, his voice whinier and bordering on the verge of painful desperation. he was damn near singing his heart out — hand clasped around the microphone, leaning into each note as the vein in his throat bulged under the stage lights.
it was intoxicating.
liam slung his hand around the microphone as noel stepped forward to play his solo. his star-shaped tambourine was held tight between his canines, arms placed behind him as he sat down on the stage, sweat dripping from his forehead. his eyes were dilated, tongue pressing against his cheek and sliding over his lower lip as he searched the crowd for your face, looking a little disorientated.
you raised your hands in the air with the rest of the crowd, waving them side to side. liam immediately caught the glimmer of silver on your finger, his entire body heating at the realisation that you were actually wearing it. even more sweat pooled against his hairline, body flushed with an unbearable heat. he leant his head back, letting out a strained groan and praying to god his oversized parka would hide the noticeable hard-on he was sporting.
he tilted his head forwards, eyes directly landing on yours. you swore his pupils were so dilated they swallowed any trace of blue in his eyes. he was now staring you down, tapping his leg against the stage, tongue pressing against the side of his cheek once more.
he was looking at you like he could eat you alive.
you tried to ignore it. tried to ignore the almost unbearable heat spreading through your lower abdomen. tried to ignore how much you wanted — no, needed him. liam seemed to react almost instantly, his head dropping backwards once more before he pushed himself off the floor, awkwardly adjusting his parka and gripping the microphone for dear life.
throughout the rest of the gig, his eyes never left yours, singing like every word was yours and yours only. it was easy to ignore the crowd and everything else happening around you, his stare so overwhelming and grounding at the same time. you felt a little drunk on the electricity thrumming through the venue, head swirling and thighs clenching together while they finished off their set.
a humming thrill was still present in your body as the venue began to clear out, the post-gig adrenaline was ticking under your skin, making your head feel a little fuzzy. through the haze, you pushed your way through until you could sneak backstage, flashing your badge at anyone who gave you a look.
you hurriedly made your way to liam’s designated green room, shuffling your footsteps and smoothing your sweaty hands over your clothes in a weak attempt to not seem as desperate as you really felt. you knocked on the door before pushing it open, half expecting to see a herd of groupies throwing themselves at him.
liam turned to you, sweaty and ruined. he was in the midst of trying to wipe his sweat off his hairline with a white towel, a half-empty water bottle in his other hand while he slouched on the couch. your breath hitched for a second before you fully stepped inside, shutting the door behind you.
“y/n,” he breathed out with a small wince, leaning his head back against the neck of the couch as he wiped the towel over his lower neck. your heart skipped a beat, watching the almost erotic scene as he lifted his head a little to stare at you. “sorry, 'm just a lil' hot.”
“clearly.”
“c'mere,” liam mutters, his voice quieter than usual like a sense of longing was hidden behind his words. you folded immediately, walking over to him without another word. before you could even sit down next to him, his hands are immediately gripping your waist and pulling you down into his lap. “can't fuckin' stand it anymore—”
“liam, wait—!”
“please,” liam whispered, his mouth instinctively chasing yours as you tilted your head backwards. you gasp, placing both hands on his chest, surprised by the warmth immediately lifting through your palms. his hands grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer against him, his nose nuzzling against your neck. “please y/n, i-it hurts.”
“liam—”
you're cut off as liam slams his lips against you, the force propelling you backwards. yet, his firm grip on your wrists pull you back against him as his lips claim your own. it's messy and desperate; his teeth clash against you, small whines filtered between the two of you as liam's hips buck up against you, his clothed cock grinding against the seam of your jeans.
his hands drop from your wrists to grip the back of your head, desperately pulling you against him, his tongue running along the seam of your mouth, hurried and desperate. your hands curl against his soaked shirt as you let him in, moaning softly at thew new contact. a soft groan escapes liam's lips, his large palms dropping from your head to slide over your waist before coasting over the planes of your lower back. he whimpers as he starts to insistently push you down, his hips jerking up to meet yours.
“p-please,” liam whimpers through a broken moan, stuck between wanting to shove his face into your neck or shoving his tongue back inside to taste more of you. you're already panting, hardly realizing how hot you'd gotten as liam holds you against him, rolling his hips up against your clothed cunt. liam lands on tucking his face against the crook of your neck, letting out a quiet whimper as your hips rock against him. “tried so hard to stay away, but fuck...”
pre-cum leaks through the thin fabric of his pants, his impatient movements becoming quicker and more erratic as his tongue slid over the side of your neck, a pathetic moan escaping his lips. god, he needed this. couldn't even get on stage without thinking of you riding his cock, fucking him stupid. couldn't even think properly without the image of you on your knees popping up.
“yeah, baby?” you tease, equally as breathless as you raise your hips, aligning your clothed cunt with his cock, steadying yourself as your palms splay over his chest. liam's not even fully aware of what he's doing now; just mindlessly and frantically bucks his hips upwards against you, babbling, rushed whispered phrases.
“s-shouldn't be fuckin' do this—fuck, please—need you, please—need this—” he's whining, overcome by the hot desperation boiling in his core. he pushes his hips ups while pulling you back down against him, desperate for whatever friction he can get. “need to feel you, baby—please.”
his hands are now pawing at your jeans, fingers looping around the waistband and tugging. you laugh breathlessly, before gripping his hands and moving them off you, pinning them on either side of him.
“stay,” you command simply, watching liam's jaw snap shut immediately. he nods enthusiastically, swallowing harshly and keeping his hands still as you move to unbutton your jeans. he's watching intently, use every last bit of self-control to stop himself from fidgeting as you step off and undress yourself. your eyebrow ticks upward at liam's obedience; he's sitting there patiently, eyebrows furrowed upwards as his tongue rolls over his lips, not daring to move a single muscle while he eyes you up and down. “good boy.”
liam's hips buck upwards as a sinful whine escapes his lips, the flush on his cheeks spreading down his chest as you wrap your laps back around him. he's shuddering, thighs quivering as your bare cunt slides against the fabric of his pants. he can feel everything — and that sickly sweet smell of your arousal is only make his head spin.
you cup his jaw, the cool silver ring pressing against his hot skin. he hisses while raising his head, straining to reach your lips. you lean down just enough to breathe hot against his mouth, the ring pressing harder into his skin. an involuntary whine slips from the back of his throat, hips bucking upwards in a particularly harsh thrust.
“babe—” he chokes out, eyes fluttering shut before bursting back open as he gasps. “please, need 'ya so fuckin' bad, p-please...”
“then work for it,” you tease with a sly smile, watching as the liam gallagher crumbles and falls beneath you, pathetic breathless whimpers escaping his kiss-swollen lips. you slowly grind your hips against him, the drag painfully slow and teasing enough for liam to throw his head back with a forlorn groan. “you gonna be a good boy for me, liam?”
“yes—yes!” liam splutters out without hesitation, hands still laying next to his sides. “please lemme make 'ya feel good, please, babe.”
you look down at him with a smile, fingers dancing over the buttons of his jeans. his entire body is trembling underneath you, the flush on his cheeks spreading to the tip of his ears as your hand cups his clothed bulge. he lets out a shaky sigh of relief, staring up at you through his thick lashes like a wounded puppy.
“please,” he repeats for the nth time. “i'll be good i promise.”
you finally give in, hands making quick work of his buttons and fly before awkwardly shoving his jeans down his mid-thighs. you lift your hips to let liam discard of both his pants and boxers before he's dragging you back into another messy kiss. his tongue rolls across your bottom lip, silently begging for you to let him taste you. you oblige, one hand curling through the strands of his hair littered across the back of his neck.
your other hand drops between the two of you, fingers curling around the length of his cock. his breath hitches, a warm shiver curling through his spine at the feeling. your lips stretch into a smile against his, your hand guiding his cock to glide through your drenched folds.
you curse under your breath as the tip of his wet cock presses against your clit. liam squirms underneath you, eyes tracing your face like he's trying to memorise everything. your other hand drops from his hair to grip his shoulder, keeping yourself stable as you beginning to grind down against his cock. it's wet and messy; your slick spreads over him, your aching clit throbbing from the attention as it catches against his leaking tip.
the friction is almost too much to tolerate — each deliberate, aching drag of your wet cunt against his cock making his mind all the more hazy. you teasingly circle the tip of his cock around your drenched, clenching entrance but never quite slipping in. liam's trying to keep himself sane, moaning quietly every so often while his hands grip your hips, continuously flexing and unflexing.
your rhythm grows sloppy and almost erratic, your breath quickening with each needy thrust of your hips. without warning, your hand wraps around his slick cock before you're sinking down on him, arching your back as his cock slides into you. it's a tight fit and an even tighter stretch — each inch punches a gasp out of your lungs, leaving you breathless and shaking against him.
“s-shit...” liam whimpers from underneath you, throwing his head back as your cunt clenches around his length, trying to suck him in further. once adjusted to his length, you start pulling up until just the tip is left inside of you before dropping yourself all the way down. liam's jaw drops open into a sinful 'o' shape as you set a fast, punishing rhythm, hands spread over his chest like you owned him. “y/n—y/n, o-oh fuck.”
he can't stop himself from bucking his hips up inside of you, his head falling backwards as you pulse around him, trembling at how fucking full you feel with him inside. he's letting out incoherent mumbles and whines — stuff you can hardly understand — as your cunt tightens around him, small pants escaping your mouth.
you raise a hand to cup his jaw, only for liam to let out a pained whine as the silver ring slides over his warm cheek. your eyebrows furrow, hips moving over him while his hips lifting to meet yours like he's acting on instinct. his mouth drops open and before you can think, you're shoving your fingers into his mouth.
“what's that, baby?” you tease with a wicked grin, watching as liam's eyes roll back at the feeling. his pained whines are muffled as your fingers press down against his tongue, his spine curling as his fingernails dig into your hips. “can't understand you, need to use your words.”
“h-hurts, babe,” he chokes out, voice trembling. he's so fucking needy he can barely think. just a mess underneath you. “hurts.”
your eyebrows furrow further inwards, a sick, twisted realisation curling in your stomach.
you slide your ringed finger into his mouth, watching as his entire body curls, hips snapping upwards as he cries out. the silver burn, his tongue beginning to sting with a white-hot heat while your cunt clenches around him, sending his mind into overdrive.
“this fucking thing keeping you away from me? this little thing?” you snarl, shoving your fingers deeper into his mouth. he whines while obediently wrapping his lips around you, face flushed as he ignores the hot, simmering pain burning through his body. “dirty boy, trynna keep yourself away from me.”
“w-wanted t'be good,” he mutters with a small whine, eyes glassy as the low, wet sounds of your cunt begin to fill the room. “please, babe.”
you keep your fingers there, slowly beginning to thrust them in tandem with the grind of your hips, leaning down to kiss around his face. liam's whimpering, hips bucking deeper inside of you. firmer. faster. enough to make your breath hitch as you speak.
“want me to stop?”
“no—no, no, please,” liam's shaking his head wildly as best as he can, eyes wide and doe-like. he wraps his lips around your fingers tighter, letting his tongue glide over them as he whines. “y-you taste better.”
you pull your wet fingers from his mouth before slapping his cheek in a way that makes liam's whole body ache for you even more. you grab his cheeks, holding your face as a greedy smile stretches across your face.
“good boy.”
liam whimpers, struggling to open his eyes as his hips twist impatiently. he opens his mouth expectantly, letting out a slutty little whine as you stuff your fingers back into his mouth. the pain makes his eyes roll backwards, a harsh haze settling over his consciousness as your hips grind down against him.
he begins to fuck up into you like it's the last time he'll ever get to have you. he bullies his cock inside of you, the tip pressing deep against your cervix, stretching your cunt out in a way that almost renders you speechless. your clit is snagging against his pelvis, each grind of your hips making your mouth fall open into a breathless moan.
he swears he can feel you everywhere, that familiar ultra hot ecstasy beginning to burn through him as you fuck yourself on his cock. your fingers are pressing down against his tongue, that stupid little silver ring only making his cock twitch inside of you. you angle your hips until his cock nestles against that spot inside of you, forcing your jaw to drop open as a sinful cry of his name escapes you.
your other hand drops down between your thighs to begin to rub small, messy circles over your clit. your thighs are beginning to burn, but spurred on from that delicious burn beginning to course through your lower abdomen, you slam yourself harder on his cock, desperate to hear those muffled whines from the man beneath you.
“f-feels good,” liam's groan is muffled, barely audible due to the wet clicking sounds of his cock fucking up inside of you. “wanna cum, babe, please.”
“then fuck me harder,” you say while grinding down against him, caution in the wind, focused on chasing that white-hot pleasure coiling in your stomach. liam moans in response, hips slamming up against yours, harder, faster. and you feel so full you can hardly breathe. “t-thaat's it, atta boy.”
it's all too much yet not enough at the same time; your fingers messily gliding over your pulsing clit, his cock pressed snug deep inside you, hitting each spot you didn't even know existed. suddenly, the knot in your stomach snaps, spilling warm as stars burst behind your eyelids.
liam cries out, drooling and whining as he follows straight after you, warm cum spurting inside of you all while he continues to rut up against your hips. tears are brimming in the corner of his eyes, his moans vibrating against your messy fingers only for them to fall out as desperate, broken whimpers.
just like you wanted.
too worked up to stop, liam's hips stutter, rocking you gently as he fucks his cum inside of your messy cunt, ignoring the way you try and shove him away. his brain sinks further into bliss, knocking his own braincells from his head with each desperate grind of his hips, stuffing you full of his cum.
“l-liam,” you breathe out, chest heaving as overstimulation ebbs through your ruined cunt. “stop.”
almost immediately, liam stops obediently, leaning his head forward to rest his sweaty forehead against your chest to try and regulate his breathing. his cum spills down your inner thighs until it begins to drip against his own, making his entire body shudder. his cock is still throbbing inside of you, his mind sharp and alert — nothing like the way he was before.
“need you,” liam repeats himself as he lifts his head, nuzzling his nose over your jawline before nipping you gently. “need 'ya so bad, baby, please.”
“c'mon,” you whisper, voice soft as you cup his cheeks, the silver ring making him inhale sharply. “lemme get you cleaned up.”
liam whines as you slide yourself off his lap, hands instinctively reaching out to grab you as you walk over to grab a clean towel. his eyes follow you around his warm, the musky smell of you and him mixed together make his heart beat faster.
he's got you. and now he won't let go.
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