Brycee

“Fuck you, Cade.” I shake my head. “No, Rhett. Fuck you. You fucking bolthead. You had something with that girl.” I huff out a laugh. “Cade, you don’t even like her.” “I like her because she’s good for you. I like her because she doesn’t take our shit, and she doesn’t roll over for you like some lovesick puppy dog. I don’t like her because she’s smarter than me, and that’s fucking annoying.”
― Elsie Silver, Flawless

“Boys?” Mam’s voice filled the air. “What’s the matter—Oh, Gerard, why are you in your underpants?” “Your son”—Gibsie paused to point an accusing finger at me before continuing—“ejaculated on me.” “He did?” Mam asked with a hopeful expression on her face. “Yes, he did!” Gibsie groaned, shuddering from head to toe. “I didn’t fucking ejaculate on you,” I shot back, torn between laughing and fucking crying. “I ejaculated and you sat on it.” “Same difference,” he barked, furious. “Same fucking results, Johnny!” “Oh, love, I’m so happy it’s working for you again,” Mam said, sagging in relief. “But you shouldn’t be interfering with yourself when your friends are over.” “What?” I gaped at her. “Are these words actually coming out of your mouth?” “It’s all over my uniform, Mammy K,” Gibsie told her. “He ruined me.” “I know, Gerard, love,” she coaxed,”
― Chloe Walsh, Keeping 13

“You look beautiful again. Good touch on hiding the redness on your cheek. I didn’t think I hit you that hard.” I glare at him. “I hope Bernadette shoots me in the head.” “Strange thing to hope for, but okay. Ready?”
― Leigh Rivers, Voracious

“Because I’m obsessed. I’m addicted.”
― H.D. Carlton, Haunting Adeline