#one; because i used to help with sound for a band and i very quickly learned that certain things just...illuminate a person's voice more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spookysteddie · 3 months

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Studio Sessions

18+ MINORS DNI

Modern!rockstar!Eddie x influencer!fem!reader

Series masterlist here

cw: voice recording during sex, reader gets insecure, studio times, fluff, flirting, pet names, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, dirty talk, reader gets what she wants.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: this got away from me... I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to send in requests for these two if you have them!! ALSO: this is the last post for them I'll have with a tag list... it's so much work and not that I dont love y'all ( I do) it's just hard. I hope y'all still love me and understand ❤️.

...

Is it normal to miss someone you just met?

Is it normal to go on a few dates, sleep over their house like every night and still miss them immensely when they're gone?

You and Eddie have spent every moment together since that first real date. Has he asked you to be his girlfriend yet? No. But you really don’t like to think too far into that one because then you’ll spiral, which is no good for anyone.

It didn’t matter too much. You knew it didn’t matter and you knew that he wasn’t fucking anyone else because he was either in your bed at night, or you were in his. I mean he could be fucking other people during the day, but you doubted it.

Back to the missing him part. It feels weird to miss someone who is a few feet in front of you, who you can literally see. But here you are, Eddie standing on the other side of some glass gathering things, and you miss him. You can’t help your thoughts from wandering back to if he feels the same way. But also, why would he? Men don’t act like that, right?

“Sweetheart, you ready?” Eddie's voice cuts through the fog of uncertainty.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. You were in the studio with Corroded Coffin, getting to watch their recording process. Eddie is right, there is something missing from a few of those songs, but you’re unsure if your voice is what is missing. You’re willing to try, though, still honored every agreed to this.

Eddie sets you up, putting headphones on you so you can hear the music. “Okay, sweet angel, don’t get too close to the mic because it can cause the sound to get a little weird. Got it?”

“I got it.” You grin up at him. He kisses you sweetly, your body growing hot.

He leaves, going to stand outside the booth with the rest of the band and his producer. He gives you a thumbs up, smile lighting up his face. He’s been more than excited that you agreed to do this.

You hear a count before the music starts, you quickly look down at the lyrics sheet in front of you. When you get the cue you start, turning on the most bedroom voice you can manage, eyes locking with Eddie’s as you speak. “Mine, be mine. Love me. Never let me go.”

You smirk at him as he squirms, his friends hitting his arm. You aren’t sure why it makes you happy to watch him squirm but it does. You let out a laugh, real and loud, instead of saying your next lines.

The producer perks up, cutting off the music, “oh my god, that was amazing! I need more of those.”

You feel your face get warm, a small and shy giggle leaving your chest. You don’t hear Eddie enter the room, but you can feel him. His energy calling to yours. You hum, not caring that they’re still recording you.

He pulls your headphones off, “great job, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, baby.” You lean in kissing his lips. It’s quick, just enough to get a taste of him. “This is a lot of fun. I like this!”

“You sounded very beautiful.”

You giggle, looking up at him grinning, “I was just talking.”

He kisses your forehead and whispers to you, “no. You were using that voice you use when you’re desperate for me to fuck you.”

You freeze, looking up at him. He’s looking at you with that sexy smirk on his face, making your stomach flip and clit pulse. God, he’s so hot when he’s doing absolutely nothing, dressed in black sweatpants and a sweatshirt, dressing comfortably for the long day in the studio. You could kiss him, right now.

No, scratch that, you could fuck him right now. You would if there weren’t six other people looking at you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you whisper, winking up at him.

He kisses you quickly, leaving you wanting more as he pulls away. “Ready for the next one?”

…

You’ve been here for 8 hours.

Between adding little snippets of your voice, the band recording the rest of their songs, adding background vocals and putting in instruments, it takes a while. And you are tired. So tired in fact that during their last two songs, you fell asleep on the little couch in the studio.

You know this because you’re woken up by a soft voice and a hand brushing your hair out of your face.

“Sweet angel? Hey, baby.” You know it’s Eddie's voice based on the softness and sweetness he reserves only for you.

You stretch, groaning just a little as your joints crack, “m’sorry for falling asleep. Didn’t mean to.” Your voice sounds small and a little crocky with sleep. You cover your mouth as a small yawn slips out, “s’cuse me. I’m sorry.”

He laughs, kissing your free hand, “don’t apologize. We had a long night and early morning. Could’ve gone back to my place and slept?”

You shake your head, “mm-mm. Gotta be supportive. It sounds great and your fans will love it.”

His grins widens, lips meeting your knuckles. He looks tired too and you sort of regret keeping him up most of the night. Well, actually, it was a mutual thing. You’d tried getting him to go to bed but he just ‘couldn’t get enough’ and then when you tried again, while he was still inside you and growing soft, but the second he shifted, you were pushing him on his back and riding him. See, mutual.

“I’m glad you think it’s great, sweet girl. But you won’t upset me if you go home.”

Home. The word clangs through you and makes your head spin. It shouldn’t because he definitely didn’t mean anything behind it. It was his home so of course he’s called it just ‘home’ and you are for sure overthinking it.

You shake your head, both to clear it and to answer him, “no. I can wait. How much longer?”

“Like another fifteen minutes? I just need to listen to that last take and the boys need to add some background stuff. Then we can go.” His thumb is rubbing along your knuckles, his touch soft even if his hands are calloused.

“I’ll wait.”

And you do, this time staying awake. You post some instagram stories, making extra sure to mute it so you don’t spill a single note. Everyone loves the little insights to your time with Eddie, his fans enjoying seeing a different side to him. Of course, your parents still aren’t happy.

You haven’t spoken to them since that phone call. You don’t need their opinions and Eddie has yet to be a bad person when it came to you.

In fact, he’s good at planning dates and making sure no one follows. Blocking the paparazzi from getting unflattering photos of you. Sending you with security if needed. He cares. He cares more than anyone else ever has.

It feels nice to date someone who doesn’t see you as a ticket to their fifteen minutes of fame. Who didn’t look at you as a way to further their own career. Sure, Eddie was more famous than you were, something the press loves to point out. But in some way you were on the same level. It was more than refreshing.

“Ready?”

You look up at his brown eyes and nod, letting him take your hand to help you up, your coat already in his hands.

Once you both are ready to brave the slightly chilly weather, he takes your hand and leads you out. “There’s going to be people out here okay? Just so you're prepared.”

You grin, looking over at him, “I am prepared, Eddie. I know the cost of dat- um, being seen with you.”

If he catches your almost slip up, he doesn’t say anything. He just smirks, squeezing your hand as he opens the doors to the outside. Cameras flash and people scream, you’re practically blinded by the flashing bulbs. It doesn’t last long though, Eddie helping you into the car before getting in himself and closing the door, the sounds of screams muffled slightly.

“God, I love them but the screaming kills my ears,” he presses his finger to his ear, blocking it slightly before releasing it.

You giggle, raising a brow, “aren’t you used to it? You hardly wear your ears on stage.”

It was true. Eddie had this habit of taking out the ears he wears on stage, usually used to help keep beat as most artists can’t hear the music coming from the speakers.

He shrugs, “ya aren’t wrong but I feel like I’m far enough away that the sound doesn’t hurt that bad? I really should keep my ears in so I don’t like lose my hearin’ before I’m 32.”

“Should hear it from the crowd,” you tilt your head slightly. “I had to get little ear plugs after the first time I saw you guys live. My ears rang for a few days after and I was yelling cause I couldn’t hear.”

His eyes get wide, “that sounds awful. I should get ya some custom ears so you can hear what we’re doing on stage.”

That makes your heart flutter a little, the fact that he wants you to hear all they do. “I don’t think I could deal with the metronome ticking.” He looks at you, “how do you know that happens?”

You playfully roll your eyes, scrolling through your phone till you find a post you liked a little bit ago. “This. It’s a video of what Taylor Swift’s sound like inside. It was very interesting.”

He watches it, three times actually. And then he giggles and scrolls, some familiar music starts to play and you already know what he’s looking at. Your face flames as you move to take your phone back. Unfortunately, he’s faster, moving so you can’t grab it from where you sit.

He scrolls again, “you like these edits of me?” His tone is teasing and you feel like you’re going to die. He was never supposed to know you like thrist traps of him, most of them to his own songs.

“E-Eddie give it back,” you plead with him.

But he shakes his head, scrolling again and again and again. “These edits are actually really good. M’impressed. I also think it’s cute you like them.”

You finally reach your phone, tugging it from his hands, “it’s rude to go through someone's phone, Eddie.”

He fake pouts, “awww, are you embarrassed baby?”

You don’t say anything as he coos at you because you are embarrassed that he saw those. But fuck, he looked so fucking hot in those edits. They make you feel things deep inside you, things you’ve used your vibrator to take care of.

He leans forward, his hand reaching out and cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. I think it’s kind of hot you have those liked.”

He pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, soft kiss. That feeling comes back, the one with a voice that questions why he hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. It’s been some time and you spend a lot of it together. You don’t want to push him, to make him look at you as needy or too much or annoying. That’s the last thing you want. You’ve heard it enough, from boyfriends, from your parents, from the people in your comment section. And the last thing you wanted was to hear it from Eddie.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes scanning your face. Fuck he knows.

“Are you okay?” He asks you with worry in his eyes. It kind of makes your chest hurt to worry him.

“Oh yeah! I’m fine. Just… tired.”

But, of course, he sees right through it, “no. You’re in your head. Come on… spill it.”

You can’t. You want to express to him how you feel, to ask him to not waste your time. If he isn’t interested in you then you need him to tell you that so you can move on. But you know he is interested, you just sat and recorded bits for their album for fucks sake! He calls you sweet names and listens to what you have to say. He fucks you in a way you’ve never been before. He’s in tune to you and your needs, so the idea he doesn’t want you is absurd.

But… “nothing. I just have that photo shoot coming up and I’m just nervous. It could make or break my career.”

Half truth. You were nervous about the campaign. It could make or break your career if you didn’t do a good job or if people didn’t like it.

He looks like he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t push you further. You wish he would.

…

Eddie’s lips kiss along your chest, nipping a sucking sweet marks into the skin there. Marking you. Owning you. His hand moving up to tease your breast while his mouth sucks on the neglected one.

His phone is set up beside you, the little red dot indicating he’s recording. It definitely catches the gasp you make as he works your chest, but he just feels so good you don’t think about it.

He asked you six times before hitting record if you were okay with this, him voice recording. And you were, truly. He wanted your moans for his music but wanted some variety in there. So, he’s recording the entire round of sex. You’d be a dirty little liar if you said it didn’t turn you on. The idea that he’ll have this on his phone and in his music. Your moans immortalized on tape? It was hot as fuck.

Eddie swaps sides, eyes meeting yours as he licks and sucks and bites. It hits you right at your center. He was hot as fuck, actually. Looking slightly feral as he kisses down your body. You can’t take your eyes off of his when he settles between your legs, putting them over his shoulders to give him more room.

“God you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he runs a finger through your slick, making you moan. “So pretty. Was so hot watchin’ you today.”

“But I-” he licks up your slit, cutting you off what you were about to say.

He sucks on your clit, making your back arch. It was insane to you how well he knew your body. He’s learned every dip, every curve of your skin. He’s learned exactly how to drag deep moans from you with his mouth, tongue and cock. Memorized them. He did it quickly too.

“B-but I didn’t really do anything.” He slips two fingers inside you, stretching you out. “God! Fuck that feels good.”

He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and curls his fingers. Eddie knows exactly what he’s doing, turning your brain off with every thrust of his fingers.

“J-just like that, baby! Oh god, don’t stop.” You can feel the orgasm building deep in your belly, your whole body growing hot as you squeeze his fingers. “M-more. Eddie, I need more.”

He adds a finger, the burn from the stretch feeling incredible. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh my god.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, just a babbling mess. This was typical when it came to the way Eddie worked your body. He’s the only one who’s worked you like this.

Your orgasm hits you, mouth dropping open as your back arches on the bed, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!”

You ride it out with Eddie’s help, his fingers slowing and his mouth coming off your clit with a soft pop. And when he finally removes his fingers, sucking them between his lips and moaning, you feel empty. You need him to fuck you, to feel him inside you.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just can’t get enough,” his voice drops a few octaves and you swear your heart stutters for a moment.

“Please…” you whine.

It hits you then that he is fully clothed and you are as naked as the day you were born. The dynamic is hotter than it should be, you might need to talk to your therapist about that. Or not. That’s an issue for another day.

He pulls off his shirt, stomach flexing with the movement, “please what, angel?”

His hands pull at his belt, tugging it through the loops before meeting the same fate as his shirt on the floor. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth and you forget the English language for a moment. He pops the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down as he waits for your answer.

You manage to find it, “please fuck me. I-I need it.”

He slides his jeans and boxers down his legs, his hard cock bobbing free. You squirm, licking your lips while your eyes rake over him. You need him, need him in many more ways than just sexually. You need him as yours, need him to love you. You can see the life you’d have if he called you his. Your babies would be beautiful thats for fucking sure.

You don’t really have time to think further on it because Eddie slides inside you, his lips meeting yours and swallowing your moans. He tastes like you, cigarettes and weed. An odd mix but you love it anyway.

“Shit, pretty girl. This pussy feels amazing. S’like you were fuckin’ made for me.”

Your heart pounds and you know he can feel it, you can feel his. “I-I was. I was m-made for you, Eddie. Made for you” You kind of don’t mean for it to come out, but it can easily be brushed off as heat of the moment dirty talk.

But there is something in the way he’s fucking you right now, something different. It’s slower than it has been, sweeter. Like he wants to take his time here, like he wants to feel every inch of you. His eyes shine with lust and something else, something he blinks away before you can decipher it. You have a feeling you already know what it is, because you feel the same way.

“Yeah? You think so?” He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Think we were supposed to end up here?”

You’re going to die if he keeps talking like this. He’s actually going to kill you. More so because you do believe in the invisible string theory. Everyone can say you’re going too fast, but you think your string is attached to him. Everything about him screams it in confirmation.

“Y-yes. I do.”

He kisses you soft and sweet, adjusting slightly to hit that sweet spot inside you. You gasp into his mouth, hands coming up to his cheeks to hold him there while you kiss him. Again, it’s all slow and sweet and filled with emotion.

“Glad we’re on the same page, baby.”

He fucks you just a little faster, hitting all your sweet spots and making the coil in your belly twist tighter. “I- oh my god, Eddie.”

He laughs, not straying from your lips, “I love when you pray to me.”

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a deep moan falling from your lips as your velvet walls squeeze him. It makes your head spin and you kind of feel like you’re going to pass out from how good it feels. You don’t, of course.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl coming for me. My pretty angel.”

“Y-yours.”

He nods, “mine.”

Mine

The word cycles through your head over and over, making you clench harder around him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck fuck FUCK!”

He spills inside you as he moans your name. It’s angelic when he does it and you’re gonna make him send the recording to you immediately so you can hear it again and again. He collapses on you, being careful to not crush you with his weight.

“I s-swear on my life, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

You giggle, shaking your head, “i bet you say that to every girl you fuck.”

He lifts his head, his face serious, “no. I don’t. You’re the first person I’ve ever said that to.”

You just stare at him, not knowing what to say.

“Did you mean what you said? About us being made for each other?” He asks it quietly, like he’s afraid of anyone hearing him. Anyone but you.

You swallow the lump in your throat. You can do this, tell him how you feel. Right? “I-I did. We fit together so well. Don't ya think?”

Now it’s his turn to swallow, “I do… I meant it too.”

You aren’t sure where this is going, but you hope to whoever the fuck is listening that it’ll go your way.

“You did? You haven’t known me that long.”

He shrugs, “so? You spend every night here, or me at your place. You get to know someone pretty quickly that way.” He laughs a little, pushing some of your hair out of your face.

Ask me

“I would agree,” you say as you run your fingertips up his arm.

“Would you agree to stay forever if I asked you to?”

You hold your breath and nod. He gives you a look that makes you squeak out a small “yes.”

A huge grin breaks out across his face, bright white teeth showing, “then stay. With me and be mine. And I’ll be yours. No more wandering around lookin’ for each other.”

You blink away the burn behind your eyes, you cannot cry at someone asking you to date them, “n-no more wandering.”

#stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader

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gurugirl · 2 months

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The Ranch Hand | cowboy!harry

2.5k word preview below the cut

Your boyfriend, Jessie, sat down a bucket of beer on the table you were sitting at and pulled his stool up as you grabbed a cold one for yourself and twisted the cap off.

You didn’t know the band that was playing but they sounded pretty good, especially for a Friday night with a cold beer in your favorite little rowdy country bar.

Jessie hated the bar. He was more into cocktail joints with white tablecloths and live classical piano. The kind of place you had to dress up to go into. You didn’t blame him. He didn’t come from where you came from. You two had only a couple of things in common.

The first was that you were both from wealthy families. Your dad was a rancher and he owned half the county. You’d never hurt for anything. Jessie’s family ran the county and were all involved in politics. He went to some fancy school in a different state and only came back because his father wanted him to step into the role of prosecuting attorney.

The second thing you had in common was that you lived in the same town.

That was probably where your similarities ended. You liked Jessie. Mostly. He was usually pretty nice, if not boring, and your parents liked him so that was a plus. In fact, they set up your first date with him and it was easier to just keep things going to make your mom and dad happy.

“You look uncomfortable,” you spoke as you kept your eyes on the band and Jessie struggled to pull the metal cap from his bottle.

“I’m just… there’s peanut shells all over the floor and everyone’s staring at us.”

You laughed and shook your head. You were gonna have to break up with the guy. He couldn’t handle you and you knew that was the truth. He hated getting his hands dirty and even though he looked like he should be able to remove a bottle cap, it wasn’t the first time you had to do it for him.

Taking his beer you looked directly at him and twisted the cap off, dropping it to the floor before handing it back to him.

“I never drink beer. Not used to taking caps off…” he spoke as he took a sip. Shitty excuse.

You noticed that some of the workers from your dad’s ranch were in the bar. Probably causing trouble. The guys who worked for your dad could be rough around the edges but they were always nice to you. Just a bunch of cowboys looking to make ends meet. They all had a place to stay on the ranch at the bunkhouse provided and they were also paid pretty well. So on almost any given Friday and Saturday night, you could find some of them at the bar picking up local women, dancing, fighting, drinking…

This was your scene. This was what you enjoyed most. The rough and gritty. Salt of the earth. Phonies were quickly sniffed out in a place like this. It was why people were staring at Jessie.

You took another gulp of your beer and then you caught sight of one of the ranch hands already looking at you from across the room. Harry. He was very easy on the eyes. He’d been working at your dad’s ranch since he was 19. He’d earned a spot of trust with your father after all his years of hard work and now he had quite a lot of responsibility given to him. He had his own small cabin out of the way of the bunkhouse. He made a lot of financial decisions for your father as well. Negotiated prices for cattle sales, went to auctions to buy large equipment, handled the daily goings on of the newbie ranch hands, and did all the hiring and firing. But he also still worked his ass off. He’d pick up slack when the other workers needed help or couldn’t do the job. You imagined he was at the bar to keep the guys in line and make sure they didn’t land themselves in jail.

You and Harry were close from the beginning. You always went out of your way to meet every new worker that came on but Harry was a little different because he’d been around for almost ten years. You certainly favored him over all the others.

“Why’s he coming over here?” Jessie whined as Harry walked through the crowd with his eyes on you and a mischievous grin on his face. You just knew he was bout to do something to piss Jessie off, which was easy to do.

“Cause he’s comin’ to say hello.” You smiled at Harry as he tipped his cowboy hat to you, stepping between you and Jessie, and reaching in to grab a bottle of beer from the bucket your boyfriend bought.

“Uh, that’s ours,” Jessie sat up straight in his stool as he watched Harry uncap the bottle and take a swig, ignoring him completely, jade eyes still on yours.

Harry placed his elbow on the table and leaned in close to you, those handsome green eyes running over the features on your face, “Hi.”

You felt yourself heat up and kept your eyes on his, “Hi.”

You would have forgotten all about Jessie but then…

“Excuse me. Is this for real? That’s our beer,” Jessie reminded the cowboy.

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up with his hand on your shoulder, softly squeezing before he looked at your boyfriend, “Sorry about that bud,” and then he looked back down at you, “Okay if I have this, sweetheart?” He lifted the bottle of beer upward.

You nodded, “Of course you can have it, Harry.”

Harry’s grin widened as he took another drink and Jessie stood up to move in front of Harry. Maybe in an attempt to intimidate him? You weren’t sure exactly. But one thing you knew was that Harry would put Jessie down in the blink of an eye. Jessie wasn’t a small man but Harry was scrappy and liked to get dirty. Didn’t mind a scuffle when the moment called for it either. You’d seen him put a lot of men in their place.

“Next time you ask before you take.” Jessie pointed. You snickered to yourself. It was a good attempt at least.

Harry laughed and dragged his eyes down your body before he tipped his hat again and walked right into Jessie’s shoulder, making him stumble into the table. Harry looked back in faux surprise at Jessie and then at you with a wink before he went back to where he’d been before with the other guys.

Okay, so maybe Harry was a bit of a dick. But he’d never been rude to you. And you liked him, unfortunately for Jessie. Harry was not a fan of your boyfriends. He’d made that clear since Jessie started coming around four months ago.

“You just let him take a beer like that?” Jessie gestured toward where Harry had gone.

“I did. What’s the problem? I know this bucket wasn’t expensive so you’re not hurtin’ for the money.”

He took a deep breath and looked off toward where the cowboys were drinking, “Do you like him, Y/n?”

You pursed your lips to the side in thought as you watched people line dancing and stomping on the peanut-covered wood floors in their cowboy boots. Now you didn’t really need to think much about that question. Because you did like Harry, and he liked you the same. All the stolen kisses and sneaky moments you two had… it’s just that that could never happen out in the open. Your dad would never go for it and Harry might lose his job if your parents ever caught wind of anything happening between you two. So you’d always kept your distance because that was the most practical option.

But you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t like the man. Anyone with two eyes could see how handsome he was.

“Sure,” you shrugged and looked at Jessie.

“Like him, like him?” Jessie looked back toward you across the table.

“Why are you worried about it, Jes? Even if I did, it’s not a good match. My dad would kill him.”

He shook his head and watched the people on the floor dancing with their big, shiny belt buckles glistening under the shoddy lights, the strum of guitars, and a twangy voice singing an old Garth Brooks song.

You got up and waved when you saw your friend Chelle. She was among those dancing and you weren’t going to miss it, “You coming with me or not?” You looked back at the dud sitting on his stool with a scowl.

“Go on ahead. I’ll be right here.”

You rolled your eyes. There was only so much more you could take of Jessie. If he had even shown an ounce of something that looked like fun you might want to stick around longer. Hell, if he even would have just stood up to Harry about the way he had been very clearly flirting with you in front of him (rather than get so worked up over the beer Harry took) that could even be something for you to think about. But the man wouldn’t dance with you, he wouldn’t ride horses on the ranch, he wouldn’t go to rodeos, and he most certainly didn’t want to do anything that could sully up his nice clothes once in a while. Stepping over peanut shells was his limit. If it weren’t for your parents you’d never have considered him in the first place.

“Y/n!” Chelle pulled you in next to her and you began moving yourself in line in a weave; right, back, front… You always felt like an idiot when you joined in on line dancing but that was part of the fun. Everyone looked like hillbillies and idiots out there and it was a blast.

The music, the atmosphere, the raucous noise from everyone laughing, singing, shouting, stomping… your country girl roots were in full bloom that night. And beer after beer then a couple shots of whisky probably did you no good but you were going to enjoy your night with or without your boyfriend who did not move from the spot where you left him. Part of you, at one point, hoped he’d just go. He was uncomfortable and not having fun. You knew the only reason he was there was to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t do anything dumb.

And the later it got the more wild the bar became. More people filled in the small space, the music was louder, some of the lights at the edge of the room were dimmed, and the line for the bathroom grew longer.

“He gonna sit over there watching me all night?” You heard Harry from behind you as he moved in step, a bottle of beer in his big hand you noted as you turned to look up at him.

You laughed, “Probably. He’s jealous.”

Harry licked his pink lips and tampered what you knew was a big grin, “Oh yeah? Why’s he jealous?”

You both did a clumsy pivot turn together and you just smiled up at the handsome cowboy and shook your head.

There was no need to answer Harry. He knew what was going on. He knew you liked him just the same as he liked you. It had always been something secret between you two but it was obvious to almost everyone around. Except for your father. That was one time when you were both on your best behavior.

“Surprised you’re still here. Don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?” You asked.

He nodded, “Sure do. Just keeping an eye on everything going on here is all. I’ve got a responsibility for most of the people in this bar right now.”

“Oh yeah? All the guys seem to be doing okay. No one’s getting too crazy tonight it seems,” you looked around at the other workers, and most of them were two sheets to the wind but they were tame and having fun.

“Still my responsibility. Plus you’re still here.”

You grinned, “That I am. Figured I’d close the place down tonight.”

Harry laughed, “You usually do anyway. Always have been like one of the boys. Just as rowdy as the rest of us.”

You loved it when you got to talk to Harry. Loved how he looked at you and how he’d say your name. Loved how so many times you’d done just this and it felt exactly like what you wanted.

Another shot of whisky at the bar with Harry and you started to feel woozy. Your world was spinning but you were still having too much fun to call it a night.

“I should take you home,” Jessie appeared, taking you by your shoulders and pulling you away from Harry. For a short time, you’d forgotten he was still there.

“No, I think Harry’s gonna take me home.” You looked up at Harry.

“That’s right. Was just about to take her home.” Harry spoke as he stepped in closer to Jessie.

Jessie laughed and you felt his firm grip moving you away but you were too drunk to really put up any kind of fight.

“Nah, just stay here with the rest of the drunk cowboys. I got her.”

Harry followed you and Jessie out the front of the bar as Jessie opened up the passenger door of his nice car.

“You gonna be all right sweetheart?” Harry ducked down to ask you before Jessie could close the door – Harry blocking the space so he could look at you as he reached up for your face and softly turned your head to look at him.

You nodded, “It’s fine. I just need to go to bed.”

“That’s enough. She’s fine,” Jessie closed the door.

Your memory was only clear in bits and pieces as Jessie drove you home. You remembered him berating you for acting like a clown and then when he brought you to your room the memory of him kissing you and taking your hand to cup over his crotch was vivid. You remember telling him you had to go to sleep but he was angry at you. You could feel that too. You remembered his anger and how he shoved you down into your bed before he was hovered over you.

But then you remembered being on your knees in front of your toilet and expelling the contents of your stomach furiously. Jessie’s words rang in your ears about how you were gross and just as nasty as all the cowboys on the ranch. How he didn’t want to fuck you anyway when you were drunk.

You woke up on your bathroom floor and Jessie was long gone.

NOTE: This is a 15k+ Patreon-only one shot. If you'd like to read more consider signing up!

xoxo

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #firstpost #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #cowboyrry #harry styles fan fic #cowboy!harry #harry styles fanfiction #ranch hand harry #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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sugrhigh · 1 month

Text

BACKSTAGE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- your best friend caught the eye of the bass player in a band local to boston, your hometown, so you’re invited to the second to last stop of their US tour. they can definitely put on a show, and all of them are very welcoming when you meet them backstage. then there’s the asshole grumpy drummer with the inflated ego, who can’t seem to stop staring.

warnings- cursing, smoking, drinking, ???

band au (triplets are in their mid 20s)

drummer!matt x fem!reader (this song ^^ inspired me and it’s good af so i’m including it)

a/n: this has been brewing for a while and i kinda forking love this concept, i hope i brought it to life well! hope u enjoy and as always my inbox is open for whateva #kisses ****part 2 to come

@fawnchives @55sturn @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @sturnlova @cupidsword @junnniiieee07 @mattnchrisworld @cherrypostsposts

“are you sure you want to do this?” you ask her as you two linger by the bar at the back of the venue.

people are clearing out, all happily chattering after an incredible concert. you have to admit that it was a great performance, and the sold out crowd helped.

they’re a pretty talented band. and the bass player really wants your best friend.

all it took to get him interested was a single comment on one of his recent posts. adelaide is undeniably gorgeous, and she’s also built a decent following through her recent modeling jobs.

she stands out in any comment section and in crowds like these, so it makes sense that he hit her up. that’s why you’re here anyways.

mister bass player had invited you guys to the first of two sold out shows in this place. it’s the last stop on the band’s US leg, in their hometown, which happens to be where you and adelaide live.

“yes dude, for the hundredth time, im sure. and he’s waiting on us, so stop stalling. i know you have more balls than that.” adelaide gives you a pointed look.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “i promise you i don’t care enough about what these guys think to be scared.”

“now that sounds more like you.” she teases as she pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

the light from the screen illuminates her face, and you watch as she taps something out quickly.

“chris said someone is gonna come get us.”

“can’t wait.” you smile sarcastically as you respond.

addy doesn’t even get the chance to yell at you about your attitude before a big buff guy dressed in all black approaches the two of you, dark hair slicked against his skull. SECURITY is printed across his jacket in bold yellow letters.

“you ladies enjoy the show?” his voice is deep, which matches his huge stature perfectly.

“oh, it was amazing! i’m assuming you’re jason?” adelaide beams at him, pushing her dark curls out of her face.

he nods once. “that’s me. you guys ready to head backstage?”

“yup, just lead the way.”

the two of you follow jason back down toward the front of the stage, around the protective barricade to a door that almost blends right in with the venue’s dark walls.

he knocks on it three times. another tall man opens it for him and ushers the two of you inside before people start to pay too much attention.

“dressing rooms this way.” the new guy leads you through the backstage area, down a narrow hallway until he stops in front of one of the doors. there’s a little placard with their band name on it, which is cute.

this time nobody thinks to knock, because it’s already pretty loud. once the door swings open the sound is even more overwhelming.

you count seven people, all sitting around on the couches and vanity seats in the dim lighting. three of them are nearly identical, which surprises you. you thought there were only two brothers in the band.

several bottles of champagne crowd the coffee table already, and they’ve only been off the stage for ten minutes.

all of them are watching the two of you now, and it makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

“look who it is.” one of the twins (or apparently triplets) that’s sitting on the couch sets his glass down and gets up to greet you.

his brown hair is long, longer than the others, hidden slightly by a black boston hat. he’s dressed in a celtics jersey and baggy jeans, clearly happy to be representing his city tonight.

“good to see you, chris.” adelaide smiles into his chest as he pulls her into a tight embrace that lasts for a few seconds too long.

“i promise it’s better to see you.” he smirks as he finally pulls away, not even trying to hide his gaze as he admires the way her outfit hugs her body.

then he turns to you, and you suddenly feel like a spotlight is shining directly in your face.

“it’s nice to meet you too, y/n. addy tells me you’re even cooler than she is.” chris says, wrapping his arm around your friends shoulder lazily.

“can’t argue with that.” you shrug with a grin, impressed that he remembered your name without having to ask.

he looks around and clears his throat, and the others stop chatting. “everyone, this is adelaide and y/n. introduce yourselves.”

one of the clones that was sitting beside chris speaks up now. “shouldn’t they know who we are?”

he looks directly at you with an uninterested gaze that’s somehow still so intense you almost lose your breath. he’s in all black, fluffy hair styled a bit shorter than chris’s.

his harley davidson muscle tee is cut off right above his black pants, revealing just the smallest sliver of his stomach as he leans back against the cushions casually. so many tattoos, so many rings.

it’s annoying that you notice this, even despite how pissed off you are at his stupid question.

“i hate to burst your bubble, but i wouldn’t be able to guess your name even if someone put a gun to my head.” you bite back without thinking, and laughter erupts around you.

“that’s exactly what you deserve for a dickhead comment like that, matt.” another currently-unnamed guy says.

he’s on the other sofa with the last of the carbon-copy brothers, arm around the waist of the beautiful girl that’s perched on his lap. the couple smile at you and adelaide.

“feel free to ignore him. i’m nathan, lead guitar.” he introduces himself.

“i’m his girlfriend jen.” the dark-haired woman chimes in, offering you a friendly wave.

“im nick,” the triplet sitting next to them finally reveals his name, “i’m not in the band, i’m just their tour photographer. my brothers got the musical talent.”

“kids a genius with a camera though.” chris adds, still sidled up against adelaide.

“names sam. i’m the singer.” a blonde boy with hair cropped close to his skull says with a nod.

he’s sitting on one of the vanity chairs that’ve been set up in a half circle, tipping the rest of his champagne back after he speaks.

“and i’m just his older sister gabby.” the girl beside him sticks her hand out, and you take a step forward to shake it.

“dont say just. and i love your necklace.” you compliment the barbed wire chain around her throat, and she waves her free hand at you, flushing slightly.

“you’re sweet.”

“it’s nice to meet you all. the show was fantastic, we had a blast.” adelaide addresses everyone with that award-winning grin you know and love.

chris leads her over to the couch and they sit down, pressed against each other like they’re attached at the hip. you have to admit it’s a little cute. you take the open chair next to gabby, opting to avoid sitting next to matt just to be near your friend.

“are you both from boston too?” sam asks, reaching to refill his drink.

jen gets up from nate’s lap to grab two more glasses from one of the cabinets, which is a kind gesture that you weren’t really expecting.

“yeah. we met in college and ended up staying in the city together.” you answer as he moves to pour your champagne next.

“that makes you what, 22? i am about to serve you alcohol.”

you can’t help but laugh, so adelaide answers instead. “we’re 25, but i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he puts his hands up in apology as you grab your glass. “so not recent graduates then, my bad.”

you can still feel matt staring at you, and when you meet his gaze over the rim of your drink he doesn’t shy away. your own eyes narrow slightly, because you dont understand why he won’t fucking quit it.

“what do you do for work?” nathan questions, and you finally break out of your trance to look over.

“i was in publishing for a bit, but i mainly model now.” addy responds first.

chris’s hand goes to grip her thigh endearingly as she sips her champagne. “can’t you tell?”

“stop it.” she nudges him slightly, though you can see a faint blush appear beneath her bronzed skin.

nate rolls his eyes before looking your way. “and you?”

“i’m a media manager for a few different brands.”

“really? like who?”

it’s matt speaking, you know even before you turn your head to meet his cold eyes once more. he’s challenging you, inked arms crossed over his chest defensively as he waits for an answer.

“well for one, those pants you’re wearing? i work with that company.” you reply bluntly.

you’d recognize those cargos anywhere, the faded star patches are a dead giveaway. matt’s face drops in surprise, and nick snorts, giving you a nod of approval that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i can’t believe you work for vamped. we all get like, half of our wardrobe from there.” he admits.

“raiding her closet is a real treat, trust me.” adelaide makes it sound like a joke, but she actually does love to come over and steal all your favorite pieces.

it would be annoying if you didn’t love her so much.

jen smiles, cuddled back up on her boyfriend’s knee as she looks between the two of you. “i like you girls already.”

“yeah, and i respect anyone who can humble matt that quickly.” sam nods along in agreement, and you recognize that he’s talking about you in particular.

“oh, so i take it he’s like this all the time then?” your question is directed at sam, but you’re looking at the subject himself as you ask it.

“pretty much.” chris nudges matt with a silly grin, and he scowls in return, though he’s still watching you.

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, and you don’t like it one bit. to be fair, you don’t know him at all yet, but you know the type.

you’ve met enough high profile people through vamped to understand that this kid thinks he’s some kind of god, probably because his friends tell him so.

but you’re not his friend, and you don’t owe him any politeness if he can’t bother to reciprocate it. you keep your eyes on him as sam redirects the conversation away from the two of you, another challenge of your own, and he finally looks away a moment later.

you take it as a win.

a few rounds of drinks later you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, blissfully tipsy as you continue to swap stories about anything and everything with the rest of the group.

chris and adelaide are in their own little world, whispering shit back and forth to each other like school girls.

matt hasn’t said a single word to you since you name-dropped your highest paying client just to embarrass him. he watches the rest of you interact, though that burning gaze of his always seems to meet yours anyways.

its driving you crazy, and you’re itching for a quick pause from the socialization, as nice as (almost) everyone has been.

“i’m gonna go for a smoke.” you address the group, mainly adelaide, and you’re met with a couple nods.

“same.” matt replies gruffly, and your heart falters.

of fucking course.

he pushes himself to a standing position before you can protest, or say anything really. his shirt is even more cropped now that he’s stretched to his full height, and you’re staring straight at his exposed happy trail and v-line. you’re pretty sure you see the top of a small tattoo by his hip.

your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself grabbing your little purse from the floor.

“hurry back, i wanna hear more about this PR box fiasco.” gabby points a finger at you as you get up next, and you smile even though you know it’s a weak attempt.

“i’ll be quick.” you promise her.

adelaide gives you a little wave goodbye, which doesn’t quell your nerves as you turn to follow matt, who doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

he just throws the dressing room door open carelessly, letting it swing back so you have to stop it with your hand before it hits you. you glare at the back of his head, though you follow him in silence because you don’t know the way outside.

another security guard stands in the hall, and matt greets him with a quick nod as he heads outside, once again neglecting to hold it for you.

you mutter a quick hello to the man before stepping onto the little back patio. it’s the end of summer, edging toward fall now, so there’s just a slight chill in the air.

he’s already leaned up against the brick wall, situated on one of the steps down to the gated parking lot. for the first time tonight, he’s actually not looking at you, and it’s somewhat of a relief.

you dig around in your bag to retrieve your crinkled carton of cigarettes, flipping the lid open to pull one out and stick it between your lips. you’re about to put them away when matt clears his throat.

“can i bum one?” he asks softly.

it’s the least aggressive he’s been all night, and it throws you so off guard you can’t find anything to say back so him. so you just nod slowly, grabbing another cigarette for him and passing it over.

“thanks.”

“you got a light? couldn’t bring mine in.” you mutter, though your words slur because of the cig that’s between your teeth.

matt nods, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other slips into his back pocket. he pulls out a red disposable lighter and ignites it in one swift motion.

he holds it up to your mouth, burning the end of the thin roll of tobacco. he’s staring at your lips, thinking about how soft they look wrapped around that filter paper.

matt doesn’t want to be wondering what it would be like to feel them against his own, because you embarrassed him. he hates being embarrassed, especially by someone who walked right into his dressing room like she owned it.

you’re unlike any girl he’s ever met, and he’s fucking entranced.

you inhale, glancing to meet his blue eyes as the smoke fill your lungs, completely unaware of his thoughts. it’s familiar, and it calms you down a little bit.

you pull it from your mouth to exhale, watching as he lights his own before slipping the plastic device back into his pocket. he slumps back up against the wall, kicking one leg up to steady himself.

it’s silent again for a moment while you both enjoy the brief hits of nicotine, letting the clouds swirl up into the night. you both go to ash at the same time, and he breaks the tension first.

“so, what did you think of the show, sweetheart? your friend spoke for you, but i’m sure you have your own opinion.” he says, one side of his mouth tilted up.

you weigh up his statement, rewinding to an hour ago. you guys were in the upper wing, right by the stage in the front row. the view was great, and the energy was definitely there.

you remember matt, sweaty and focused as he banged on those fucking drums like his life depended on it. your eyes were drawn to him for a lot of the performance, to the intensity he brought to the stage.

that was before you knew about his superiority complex, though you should have been expecting it. he is, after all, a rising rock star.

“it was good.” you reply bluntly, shrugging as you bring your cigarette back to your lips.

he fully smiles now, though it’s not a warm one. then he follows your lead and takes another drag as well, his tattoos shifting as his muscles flex and relax due to the movement.

“don’t fucking humor me.” matt finally says seriously, and you narrow your eyes.

“i wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter either way. you think you’re the shit regardless.” you snap back.

matt softens a bit at your tone, but he’s also backed into a corner. you confuse him, because you’re impossible to read. that’s never happened to him before, and it’s annoyingly enticing.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“i know your type.” you argue sourly, sucking in another mouthful of smoke.

he turns his full attention to you now, shifting so he can look you right in the eyes. you wish it didn’t intimidate you so much, but the way he’s been leering at you all night makes you sweat.

“and what type would that be, hm?” matt goads.

you nudge at the concrete with the toe of your sneaker, pausing briefly to compose your answer.

“you’re arrogant, which either comes from the fame or the praise, or most likely both. in fact, you’re so cocky that you probably can’t be around anyone without patronizing them. i bet they all tell you how talented and badass you are, but you wanna know what i think?” you ask him, taking a hit of your cigarette for dramatic effect.

and it works. matt is hanging onto every word, waiting for you to deliver the final punch as you take a step closer, blowing the vapor toward him.

“i think that the whole time, they’re just waiting for you to shut the fuck up.”

for a second the world is still, and neither of you move an inch. he’s just studying you, eyes skipping across your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“you want to know what i think?” he questions you quietly, and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move.

so pretty and pink, and you know he would taste like tobacco and sweat. you want to give in, but you won’t. one thing about you is that you’re stubborn, and you refuse to make the first move for this asshole.

“i think you like it.” matt finishes, so close to your lips now that he’s practically whispering his words against them.

just as you think he’s about to kiss you, to give you the power you crave, he tosses his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out before stepping around you.

the only reminder that the moment was real is the door slamming shut behind him.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #drummer!matt #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #band au #matthew sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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luxurychristmaspudding · 3 months

Text

you and your friends (tommy's party pt. i)

summary: your handsome new roommate spells trouble. but you've got a handle on it. haven't you?

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. roommate!frankie, stoner!frankie and stoner!reader. mentions of drinking and smoking weed - they're having a good time! no lady and no baby. idiots in love, split pov, lots of fluff tbh and a whole lotta sexual tension. reader and frankie are little creeps n freaks. reader pays a visit to benny, frankie hooks up with 1 (one) other person. f&m masturbation, voyeurism, lots of cuddling. use of pet names (good girl, baby etc. (platonic, of course))

song is tagged at end of fic - header does not represent reader, only the album!

wc: 9.6k

an: *mc voice* let's get this party started!

part ii - tommy's party

When Frankie catches a glimpse of you from across Will’s crowded living room, he’s not so sure Benny’s idea is a good one.

The room is lit with yellow lamplight, heavy with the scent of sweat and alcohol and cigarette smoke. There are people crammed in everywhere; slumped over chairs and sofas, leant against door frames, moving in and out of the kitchen with the click of the door beads. A sluggish bass thumps out over the party, the thrum of laughter and conversation cushioning any other sound.

He stands at the back of a sofa which has been turned inwards towards the centre of the room, leaning over Santi and Will as they howl over some story they’re retelling for a couple of girls squished between them. Frankie had been quite happy listening and laughing along, but he’s distracted when Benny taps his arm with his beer bottle and motions over to you.

‘That’s her,’ he says, ‘The girl I was telling you about.’

And yeah, he’s very quickly sure that this is a bad idea.

Because you’re beautiful. A gorgeous wrap dress clinging to your curves, each outline flowing like you’d been poured into it. Jewellery clinking and glittering around your wrists, neck, and ears, and your hair shining like each strand had been arranged by some ethereal hand. Your smile bands out around you, bathing your audience in a kind of glow, a reflection of your warmth. Frankie watches as you tip your head back slightly in a boundless laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the soft clasp of your hand falling on the forearm of the man sat next to you. Fuck.

Frankie swallows drily, and Benny places a hand on his shoulder.

‘Come on, Fish,’ he says, ‘I’ll introduce you. I’ve told her about you already.’

Frankie doesn’t want to move. He’d much rather watch, much rather have Benny do the heavy lifting here. He doesn’t think he can talk to you, much less make a good first impression.

But his friend is guiding him forwards, and he can’t help but be shepherded. Panic rises like bile in his throat, and he thinks of turning around, excusing himself to go to the bathroom and just sitting in his truck for a while instead, but then -

Your bright eyes flick up to find Benny approaching you, and your face lights up. You stand from where you were perched on the arm of a chair and walk around the bundle of people whom you'd entranced. You place a gentle hand on a soft-haired woman’s shoulder, inclining your head to say you’ll be back in a minute, before you open an arm to Benny.

‘Benny!’ You call, squeezing his waist as the younger man presses you to his side, planting a kiss to your forehead. ‘How are you, man?’ You ask. Benny returns your greeting, answering your question, but Frankie can’t concentrate on anything he’s saying. You listen intently to his friend, smiling and asking a couple more questions, before looking properly at Frankie.

‘Sorry - hey,’ you say softly, ‘You must be -’

‘Oh god,’ Benny chuckles, ‘Sorry, yes. This is Frankie.’ Benny moves to press Frankie forwards, and he stumbles a little as he catches your outstretched hand. If you notice, you don’t say anything, just smile warmly at him and shake, giving him your name.

‘It’s good to meet you, man,’ you say, ‘Benny here has told me a lot about you.’ Benny laughs, clapping Frankie on the back.

‘Only good things, Fish,’ he grins, ‘I promise.’ Frankie rolls his eyes at him.

‘So, you’re interested in the room?’ You ask, and Frankie turns back to you. He nods, swallowing.

‘Yeah, really interested. It’d be great to come over and take a look if you’re around.’ He surprises himself at how easily the words roll off his tongue. You offer him another kind smile, nodding encouragingly, and he finds himself relaxing.

‘Of course,’ you say, ‘You’d be very welcome to. You have glowing recommendations from the boys, anyway.’ You lean in closer to him, lowering your tone conspiratorially. ‘I’d have you moved in tomorrow if I could. Sold on you already.’ Frankie beams bashfully down at the carpet and bites his lip, Benny’s idea straying dangerously back into good territory.

‘I wouldn’t believe everything they tell you.’ He says, eyes trailing over your neckline, the dip in your cleavage, the hollow of your throat, skin gleaming and a little damp with sweat. You reach out and tuck a stray curl peeking out from his cap behind his ear.

‘Not at all, sugar,’ you murmur, and your touch, the pet name, sends a shiver down his spine. ‘I think we’d get along just fine.’

Benny leaves you both soon after, in search of another beer. He asks if you want one and you politely decline. Frankie does the same. You lead him to a quieter corner by the back window and pull him into easy conversation. You laugh and tell him this is his ‘interview’, but confess that you really have no idea what that might involve. Frankie lets you ask him any question that comes to your mind, and in this pool of time, you discover everything you could need to know about each other. Where you grew up, what your parents were like, whether you enjoyed school, what you eat when you’ve had a bad day, how often you clean the bathroom, what you do now, and what your dreams are for the future. You ask tentatively, respectfully about Delta Force. Frankie appreciates the way you preface it with an out - you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to - but he finds that he does. He spares the details but tells you about training, about flying, about meeting the boys. He tells you about Tom, and as little about Colombia as possible. You nod, brow furrowing in sympathy, in feeling, and squeeze his knee in comfort.

Frankie’s heart shouldn’t skip the way it does, but then you’re asking him more about what Tom was like, how his family are. When his eyes mist over, you take his hand. He runs a thumb over your knuckles. He tells you, cringing, about the coke charge, about his licence. About how he’s getting it back in spring. You grin brightly at him, congratulating him, sucking air in through your teeth and doing a little dance in your chair. Frankie laughs at you, heart swelling. He doesn’t know how you’re getting him to do this - tell you all this stuff, make it feel okay, make him feel great. But he loves it. He could get used to it. You’re sat close to his side, shoulder to shoulder, and you are so warm, your skin so soft. Frankie leans in closer.

‘How did you meet Benny?’ He asks, breathing the words into the shell of your ear over the music. You squirm, dipping your head away from him, and Frankie wonders for an awful moment if he’s misjudged the closeness, if he’s already overstepped your boundaries.

You look at him sideways, your body angled away from him.

‘He didn’t tell you?’ You ask.

Frankie raises an eyebrow, mouth open, ready to apologise. His brow furrows and he shakes his head.

‘No.’ He says. You smile at him, sighing heavily through your nose.

‘It’s a little embarrassing,’ you say, avoiding his gaze. ‘We met at a bar. We got on really well, and -’ you huff out a breath, meet Frankie’s eye again. He’s still watching you, not having put together the pieces. You roll your head onto your shoulder, pick the label on your bottle. ‘We slept together, Frankie.’

Frankie’s heart drops.

‘Oh.’ He says.

‘Yeah,’ you laugh, ‘Oh.’ You’re quiet for a moment, Frankie scrambling for the right thing to say. He’s too slow. You clap your hands down on your knees and rise from your seat.

‘I’m gonna head outside for a bit,’ you say. He watches you disappear with a weak smile, an anxious feeling welling in his chest.

Frankie sits for a few minutes, taking pulls from his beer, looking out over the crowd assembled in the living room.

His spots Benny lent against a wall, held up by an arm outstretched beside a girl’s head. A tongue of fire licks up through Frankie’s belly, and he has to sit with it for a moment to work out what it is. Jealousy. He’s jealous that Benny has already touched you, has already heard you. Jealous that Benny has already crossed that threshold, and now he has to be the one to move in and keep his distance. Arbitrary rules, he knows, rules which have been disregarded before. Already, you’d be more than a quick fuck. It’s crass, but Frankie knows you should be more than someone you take home from a bar. Maybe you are - you’re here, after all, clearly invited. Frankie’s mind rocks with the notion that Benny is saving you, keeping you around. It would be cruel of him, but not impossible. Benny had a bad habit of getting what he wanted.

Frankie grinds his teeth, tears his eyes away from his friend. Stupid, stupid. You’re someone he’s only just met, someone he might be living with. Whatever weird thing this is going on in his brain, he needs to fix it quick. Thoughts like these are not suitable in situations like living together.

Frankie stands, but instead of speaking to Benny, instead of getting to the bottom of why you’re here, he follows you through the door beads into the kitchen and out the back door.

You’re sat on the porch swing just below the kitchen window, and the surprise of finding you so easily brings Frankie to a sharp halt. You look up from your bag, eyes wide, lips slightly parted in the glow of the porch light.

‘Hey,’ you say softly, ‘Are you okay?’

Frankie breathes out heavily.

‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘Sorry about that - in there,’ gesturing over his shoulder, back into the house.

‘Oh,’ you say, shaking your head and bringing out a small plastic baggy from your purse. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s not a thing. There’s no -’ you wave a hand around your head, ‘Feelings there or anything. We’re just friends now.’

Frankie nods, leans against the doorframe. Hums a response.

‘You wanna sit?’ You ask, scooching over on the swing, patting the space next to you.

Frankie pushes off the frame and comes to sit next to you. He rocks the seat slightly with his feet, yours dangling a little too far off the ground to move it.

You grin at him, delighted with the movement. You shuffle to tuck your legs under you.

‘Amazing,’ you grin, ‘See? Already a dream team.’

Frankie grins back at you and watches you take more items out of your bag. A small, circular grinder, a tiny rolling tray, pink papers. You pop open the baggy, and the smell of the dried plant seeps through the air, rushing up his nostrils. Frankie breathes deeply, watching you sprinkle some of the bud into your open grinder. You close it, and look up at him.

‘You a narc?’ You ask, lips still quirked.

‘No.’ Frankie chuckles. You bite your cheek, shrug your shoulders.

‘Ya never know…’ you coo, and Frankie grins.

‘I got busted for coke, baby,’ he reminds you, ‘I’m not gonna rat you out for weed.’

You laugh, nudging him with your elbow.

‘Fair enough.’ You say. Frankie watches as you twist the grinder back and forth over the bud, entranced by the motion of your hands. His lips part, watching the strong flex of your wrists.

‘Do you smoke?’ You ask. His tongue dips out to lick the pillow of his lower lip, and you trace the movement with your eyes, fascinated. You swallow, clearing your throat softly. ‘Frankie?’

His eyes dart up to yours, embarrassed, flushed.

‘Yeah?’ He says.

‘Do you smoke?’ You repeat. He looks away from you, shy, shaking his head.

‘I used to,’ he says, ‘But not for a long time.’

You nod, looking out over the garden with him. The cool wind brushing through the trees, the luminescence of the town beyond their feathered tops.

‘You wanna share?’ You ask. He looks back at you, surprised, eyebrows high on his forehead. You shrug. ‘Don’t have to, of course. Especially if it’s not gonna be good for you. Just that - if you wanna move in, I’m afraid it’s a habit I won’t be quitting.’ You raise an eyebrow at him, half apologetic, half warning. He swallows visibly.

‘What if I get too high?’ He says, breathless. You snort, balancing the rolling tray on your knees as you separate the hash out onto the paper, on top of the lavender you’ve pulled from your purse.

‘It’s okay, sugar,’ you say, ‘I’ll look after you.’

Frankie stares at you, eyes wide.

You snicker at him, finish rolling, and lick the paper. Frankie watches the swipe of your tongue, its slow draw along the edge, and feels his cock twitch in his jeans. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea -

He watches as you perch the joint between your lips, put your shit back in your bag, and pull out a lighter. Your eyelashes flicker down to rest on your cheeks as the lighter clicks and you cup your hands around the flame. You take a deep breath in, hollowing your cheeks, lost to the sensation, the taste. Frankie’s jaw flexes, and he has to look away again. You exhale the thick smoke, blowing it away from him, taking another drag before knocking your hand against his arm.

‘Want some?’ You ask.

Frankie mutters a thanks and takes the joint clumsily in his fingers, rotating it until it’s comfortable in his grip. He brings it to his mouth, and you watch as he sucks in and immediately sputters out again. He bends over his knees in a hacking cough, and you gently take the spliff as you pat his back.

‘You okay?’ You ask, taking another draw for yourself. Frankie leans back against the seat, sucking in great breaths of air, eyes watery, his body still twitching. He gulps and nods, not looking at you. ‘Good.’ You say, softly.

Frankie tries again a few minutes later, and is a little more successful. You finish the rest of the joint together before you flick the roach off into the darkness. Your body hums with the crickets and the static of the night air, and you can’t wipe the grin off your face.

‘This is nice.’ You say dumbly, turning to face him.

His arms are crossed and his jaw is clenched again. He breathes deeply through his nose. You scrunch your face up at him, and he notices the movement out the corner of his eye. His gaze slips to you for just a second, and a large smile slips across his features. You giggle at him, heavy and giddy. The urge to take the hand folded closest to you strikes, and when you do, he turns to look at you properly.

‘You have really nice hair,’ you say softly. Frankie chuckles, unable to help himself. You grin at him. ‘What?’ You say. ‘You do.’

Frankie laughs harder, and you reach over to take the cap off his head. He makes a slow, unconvincing grab for it before you settle it on your own hair, kneeling up to swipe a hand through his curls. He watches you, unable to look away, and you gasp at the feeling of it carding through your fingers.

‘So soft,’ you breathe, delighted. You look into his eyes again, one hand cradling the back of his head. His eyes dart down to your mouth, and you lick your lips before starting to giggle. ‘Anyone ever told ya you got baby cow eyes?’ You say.

Frankie’s brow furrows slightly. His words are slow and slurred. ‘What?’

You giggle harder and move your hand round to cup his cheek, looking at him very seriously.

‘Your eyes,’ you say, ‘Are like a baby cow’s.’ A slow spread of joy glows across Frankie’s features. His eyes scrunch up with his smile. ‘Nooo,’ you cry softly, ‘Now they’re all happy. They’re not all big and brown anymore.’

Frankie laughs with unbridled amusement, his head dropping from your hand as he clutches at your knees.

‘A baby cow?’ He gasps. You nod quickly, enthusiastically.

‘Yeah, Frankie. You got real pretty eyes.’ Your own are wide and earnest, and that seems to convince him. He raises an eyebrow before grinning goofily at you, lifting a finger to tap your nose.

‘You think I’m cute.’ He says, and you snort, which only sends him off into a flood of more giggles.

‘I didn’t say that. Only said you got pretty eyes.’

It’s only a little, tiny lie. And you think it’s for the best.

You spend another hour out on the porch before returning to the party, and though you don’t stray far from each other, you make a point of finding Frankie before you leave. You hand him your phone, and he stares at it, confused, before you roll your eyes playfully and say -

‘I need your number, dummy. For the room.’

He taps his number into your phone, and you save it with a little cow emoji next to his name. Frankie bites away his smile.

When he’s lying on the sofa in the dark later, surrounded by bottles and cans and ashy cigarette ends, he can’t stop grinning to himself.

You text him early the next morning, giving him a time and a date to come and see the flat. Frankie replies with so much enthusiasm that he flushes when he reads the message back, dropping his phone onto the coffee table as he stretches out on Will’s floor. He sacrifices his spot on the sofa to Will and Benny, Santi beside him as they watch Face/Off over breakfast.

He doesn’t see your reply until the movie ends.

Can’t wait! So excited to see you!

He sets his phone back down with a happy sigh, so loud that Will and Santi, and then Benny, ask him what he’s so pleased about.

He only gets them to stop probing by smacking Will in the face with a cushion.

---

Frankie moves in a week later, while you’re at work.

You think it’ll be much easier for you both. If you were in the flat you’d only be in the way, and he probably needs the space and time to figure out where he wants to put his stuff. Plus, the idea of seeing him all hot and sweaty is one that, quite frankly, you’ve been trying to avoid.

Benny had told you all about his friends on that first date at the bar. You had been taken with the way he’d talked about them, so fond and positive. You’d enjoyed asking him so many questions, and were delighted when he asked you so many in return. And Benny was cute - he was hot. Enthusiastic and giving and good. But you knew, even laying next to him, both panting, turning your heads to grin at each other at the same time, that it wouldn’t go anywhere.

He had been your type on paper. He’d ticked so many boxes, and you had both fallen into that first date with such excitement - but there was just something missing. There was no burn. You had a good time, you wanted to see him again, but you didn’t yearn for him the way you wanted to. You didn’t miss him when he wasn’t around, you weren’t worried about him fucking other girls.

It hadn’t been a difficult conversation to have. Benny took it better than you’d hoped, and once it had been established, friendship came easily. You met Will, got on well, and the three of you would go for drinks. Benny would come over to watch a film and eat takeout, and you never touched each other. Sure, you thought about it. But you were on a mission to make life easier for yourself. To not fuck around and get attached to someone you shouldn’t get attached to.

So you should have known better when he introduced you to Frankie. Should have made up some excuse, even if he pretty much had the room after all the boys had told you. Should have backed out as soon as those beautiful brown eyes blinked at you, at that first curve of a shy smile, as soon as you’d tucked that curl behind his ear. Because Frankie was someone you could get attached to. Watching him cook, watching the steam trail out behind him after a shower, watching him stretch out on the sofa with a book, having him crinkle his crows feet at you from across the kitchen as he sips his coffee, the low timbre of his voice reaching you across the floorboards, none of these things are something you needed to know, to see. You should have known better.

Work has been busy, long.

So busy you had to stay behind for a couple of hours to make sure the late shift got set up properly, and then you could trudge home. The bus journey, the walk up the hill, the clamber up the stairs to your front door.

When you make it halfway up the stairs, you can smell it. A delicious, warm waft of heady spices, of richness flowing down through the stairwell. You breathe deeply, aching feet pausing on the concrete just so you can tip your head back and inhale. Your stomach growls loudly, and you wish whoever is cooking a good meal, because it sure fucking smells like it.

The smell is stronger on your floor, and you’re still taking deep breaths when you push open your front door. There’s the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen, the low hum of the radio playing. You toe off your trainers, leaving them next to a couple of unpacked cardboard boxes, splashing your keys into the bowl on the sideboard.

‘Frankie?’ You call. There’s no answer.

You move towards the sound, and push open the door to the kitchen.

Frankie is stood with his broad back to you, stirring something in a pot. He bops his head and hums in time with the radio, unaware of you behind him.

‘Holy fuck, Frankie. That smells amazing.’

He turns with a wide smile, a spatula in his hand.

‘Welcome home. I made enough for us both.’

You grin at him, dropping your bag and shucking off your jacket, coming to stand beside him. You ask about what he’s cooking, and he talks you through each step, the ingredients he’s used, and finally, blessedly, tells you it’ll be ready in five minutes.

You eat across the table from each other in quiet, easy conversation. Even with it all so new, with so many of his unpacked boxes still dotted around the flat, it feels like Frankie has always been here.

You wash and dry the plates side by side, laughing and happy and full. You retreat to your respective bedrooms to change into your pyjamas, and then you prop your door open for Frankie to come join you if he’d like. You flick on an episode of Adventure Time and dig around in your bedside table for your rolling stuff, sitting cross-legged and giggling at the cartoon as you grind, arrange, and roll the joint.

Your roommate appears in the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

‘Come in,’ you say, beckoning him closer, shuffling on the bed to make room for him. He eyes the spliff in your hand. ‘Wanna join?’ You ask. He hesitates.

‘Just a little.’

You nod, stretching off the bed towards the window, grabbing your lighter from the ledge. You flick it to life as Frankie watches from the bed, your legs bare below your sleep shorts, your nipples hard beneath your t-shirt in the cool night air. You jerk your head at him as you exhale, and he crawls over the bed towards you. You try not to think of the way he moves as you hand it to him.

Frankie puffs from the joint a couple times, and passes it back to you. You continue the routine until there’s nothing left, finishing the last couple of tokes before flicking the roach onto the street below.

‘What do ya wanna do?’ You ask him, closing the window. Frankie’s settled back on your bed amongst your pillows. He frowns at the ceiling.

‘Watch a movie.’ He says, and you giggle at the tacky sound of his speech.

‘Come on then, buddy,’ you say, taking his hand and pulling him from the mattress. ‘We’ll watch it on the sofa. You need some water,’ you sing, leading him towards the kitchen. ‘And we’re gonna need snacks.’

Frankie chuckles at the way you say it, a faux accent twanging at your words. He lets you push him down onto the sofa and watches you dopily as you busy yourself with refreshments. You dump everything on the coffee table before turning on the TV.

‘Help yourself,’ you say, gesturing to your stash, and Frankie leans forward in slow motion to grab a can of coke. You giggle at him. ‘What do you wanna watch?’

Frankie cracks the can open and shrugs.

‘Don’t mind.’

You think for a moment, roving through Netflix before slapping his arm.

‘Oh my god!’ You laugh. ‘Notting Hill. We’ll watch Notting Hill. Holy fuck, it’s so bad when you’re stoned, you have no idea.’

Frankie groans beside you, leaning forward again to grab a bag of chocolate pretzels. He rips them open and offers one to you.

‘Whatever you say, boss.’ He smiles.

Halfway through the film, Frankie’s eyes begin to seriously droop. You can’t blame him. It must have been a long day.

When his head drops to your shoulder, you let him cuddle in. He stays there for a while, but when he wakes with a start at the soreness, you manoeuvre him to turn and lay with his head on your lap. He’s pliant and soft in your hands, sighing with relief as he settles. You run a hand through his curls, scratching at his scalp, twisting strands gently around your finger. You stroke and scratch absentmindedly, watching Hugh Grant’s dramatic confession, only remembering what you’re doing when a deep snore resonates from below you.

You look down to find Frankie sound asleep, peaceful face turned up towards you. You admire his silky hair, the scruff of his beard, the heart shaped patch on the side of his face. His soft, full bottom lip, strong nose, the slope and sweep of his brow. You smile at him, something stirring in your belly.

‘Little baby cow.’ You murmur to yourself, and bite your lip to keep from smiling any wider.

---

The first weekend you have off together comes weeks after Frankie moves in.

You have a long, cosy lie in before running your respective errands in the morning, planning to reconvene in the afternoon with food and movies and your other favourite pastime.

By some miracle, you get home before Frankie, and unload your bag of snacks and oven food onto the kitchen table. You’re just organising it, putting away what needs to be in the fridge, when Frankie steps through the front door with a crate of soda and your favourite flowers in his other hand.

‘Hey,’ he grins at you, kicking the door shut before stepping into the room and holding out the blooms. ‘These are for you.’

You take the flowers carefully, admiring the colours, the form, the texture. You look back at him with shining eyes, and Frankie blushes.

‘How did you -’

He shrugs, moving to put the soda in the fridge. With his back to you, he says -

‘You mentioned them once, ‘bout a week after I moved in.’

Your heart melts a little, touched at the care, the thought.

‘Just thought, ya know - don’t need an occasion. Sometimes it’s just nice to pick something up and say I thought of you.’

You blush at his words, just as he turns back around and spots on the table -

‘Holy shit,’ he says, picking up the chocolate covered pretzels. ‘I was just thinking of these! I didn't get any while I was out and they’re my -’ He looks up at you, a knowing smile creeping across his lips.

‘Your favourite,’ you say. ‘I saw them and thought of you.’

Frankie laughs, stepping forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

‘Dream fuckin’ team.’ He says.

You’re both back in your pyjamas within ten minutes, sat on Frankie’s bed, a joint on the bedside table ready to go.

He flicks through the home screen of his Playstation, settling on Red Dead Redemption 2, starting up the game as you lean out his window to dispel the first stream of smoke. You pass it back and forth between you, and when it’s done Frankie chucks the roach in his bin. You climb underneath the duvet and watch Arthur Morgan’s adventures through hooded eyes, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. He’s warm and solid beneath you, and you wrap your hands around his arm, breathing him in. You watch in rapt fascination as he tracks down carvings in the mountains, giggle and scold him when he barrels down the wrong side of the roads, and swat at him when his horse gets hit by a train. He loads back up his previous save to get her back, and you visit a time traveller, hunt for vampires in Saint Denis, and squeal when a UFO appears over an abandoned hut filled with rotted bodies. He tells you the stories of the characters in a spaced out slur, and you immerse yourself in the sunshine, the rain, the snow, the mists. You close your eyes to the sounds of hooves, of birds, of nature, of Frankie’s strong heartbeat and his deep breathing.

At some point in the evening, you wake again, sitting and stretching. Frankie smiles sleepily down at you.

‘I’m gonna head to bed in a bit.’ He says, and you smile at him, kneading your neck.

‘No worries,’ you mumble. ‘I’ll head to mine, too. Catch you in the morning.’

Frankie fist bumps you as you stumble towards the door.

‘Thanks for hanging out.’ He says. You snort at him before opening the door.

‘No worries, Fish,’ you say, ‘I’m sure I was great company.’

He grins back, and you blow a kiss before snicking the door shut.

Your own sheets are blissfully cool, and you turn on a little quiet music to get yourself off to sleep. The soft, slow jangle of guitars and low voices do the trick, and if you turn your head just so, you can still smell Frankie on your pyjama top.

---

When you come through to the kitchen the next morning, Frankie is already cooking breakfast. He looks cosy in his old Lakers top and sweats that only just cling to his hips. It tightens something in your belly.

‘I’m making eggs and bacon,’ he says, before gesturing with a spatula to the percolator. ‘There’s coffee over there if you want some.’

‘You tryna seduce me or something?’ You ask, waggling your eyebrows. Frankie laughs at you, gorgeous little crows feet crinkling in the corners of his eyes. You have to look away quickly to hide your own gooey expression.

‘No,’ he says, voice grappling with something of an edge - laughter, a little teasing, ‘I’m not in the business of fucking my friends.’ You flash your eyes back to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, and he’s peering at you from below his eyelashes, biting his lip. A grin blows out across your cheeks, and you bite your lip back.

‘Unfortunately for you, I am,’ you sigh, sweeping your hand across the edge of the kitchen table before glancing at him, his attention turned back to breakfast. ‘Santi still single?’

Frankie freezes over the eggs he’s cooking. He looks up at you slowly. Your heart dips in your chest, legs flooding with the feeling that you’ve definitely said the wrong thing.

‘Are you - are you… interested?’

You feel your cheeks heat.

‘I -’ you rub your face, trying to organise your thoughts. Frankie feels something like a freight train headed towards him. ‘No,’ You say, turning fully towards him, smiling a little. ‘No, I’m not. He’s great - he’s a lovely guy, but no.’

Frankie nods, once, twice, before staring back down at the yellow in the pan. He can’t remember what he was doing. Frying or scrambling? They’re too far gone now. He’ll have to try and pass them off as an omelette.

‘It was a stupid joke.’ You mumble, and Frankie shakes his head at the pan.

‘No, no,’ he says, ‘I just, ya know, if you were -’

You smile at him.

‘You’d set me up?’

Frankie shrugs. You smirk.

‘Well then. If you’re patient, sugar, I might make my way through everyone. Finish with you, of course, make sure we last a little longer.’

Frankie’s head whips up, jaw dropped. He breathes your name, and you laugh.

‘My god, Fish. I’m kidding.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Frankie laughs, relieved, disappointed. You dance around the kitchen table towards him, reaching out your hands to squish his cheeks, chanting got ya, got ya, as Frankie curls the dish cloth from over his shoulder to whip you with it.

You shriek and leap out of his way, running from him.

Frankie makes no move to follow you, turning off the stove instead, plating up the eggs and bacon. You’re still giggling at him, now armed with a dish cloth of your own. He points at you with the spatula.

‘Sit.’ He says, and you laugh again, taking a seat as Frankie brings over the plates and cutlery. As he settles, you leap up. Frankie watches you.

‘Where are you going?’ He says, spearing some egg with his fork. You return to the table with two mugs of coffee.

‘Can’t forget the most important part of the meal.’ You say, sitting and slurping loudly, winking at him over the ceramic.

Frankie laughs at you through a mouthful of food.

‘You coming to Will’s tonight?’ He asks, swallowing.

You hum a little.

‘Yeah, guess so.’ You say.

‘Boys’ll be there,’ he says, ‘So you’ll know a few faces. Not sure who else.’

You nod, shovelling bacon into your mouth. Frankie smiles.

‘Sure,’ you say, ‘I’ll come.’

That night, you find yourselves round at Will’s again. What was supposed to be a relatively quiet poker night has inevitably turned into too many people drinking too much booze, but he never seems to mind.

Frankie is back leaning on the sofa, listening to Santi and Will talk. He’s laughing, thinking he should go and grab you in a minute - he doesn’t know how many of these stories you’ve heard, but he’s sure you’d enjoy them. He has a compulsion to watch you laugh, to see you enjoy the people around you, to feel the shine of your company, to see the way you look at him, eyes dancing with amusement, always as though there is some kind of joke you’re thinking of that only he will understand.

When he looks around the living room, he can’t find you. It’s not unusual. He knows by now that you’ll be off chatting to whoever is lucky enough to find you, and he finds himself moving in the direction of the kitchen, pushing through the door beads. When he doesn’t see you in there, he catches Benny at the sink, asking if he’s seen you.

‘Sure,’ he says, ‘I was just with her. She’s out on the porch swing.’

A muscle flexes in Frankie’s jaw as he moves away from Benny, that familiar creep of possessiveness crawling up his throat. Stupid, stupid. He’s already asked him, knows that he wants nothing from you. So why does it irritate him so much?

You’re outside on the swing just like Benny said, gazing up at the stars as Frankie slumps down beside you. He bounces the chair, and you giggle at him.

‘Having a good time?’ You ask. He nods.

‘Yeah. You?’

You nod, tilting your face to look at him. Frankie doesn’t know when he decided it, but he’s sure your eyes are the prettiest he’s ever seen. He loves the way they shine out at him now in the glow of the porchlight, warm and kind and soft. That sunny feeling he gets as he watches you moves something silken and deep within him, something lonely.

I was just with her. Unfortunately for you, I am -

‘What?’ You say softly.

‘Nothin’,’ he shrugs. ‘Just glad I met you.’

You scoff lightly at him, knocking your head against his shoulder.

‘Glad I met you, too, sugar.’ You murmur, and when Frankie meets your eye, his breath seizes in his lungs.

You are so close.

Your eyes dart between his own and his mouth, lingering on the shape of his lips, the flecks of grey in his moustache. He can’t move as you lean closer to him, as you ghost two fingers over his wrist. Your eyes are burning, teasing, curious as he stares down at your lips, soft and inviting, curved around so many wonderful words, wrapped around the end of a joint or a beer bottle -

‘There you are,’ Will says, bursting through the back door. You startle away from Frankie, and he feels dizzy at the change, at the rush of what was about to happen. The warm press of your body against his. ‘C’mon,’ says Will, ‘We’ve got a poker game to win.’

You watch as Frankie hauls himself away from you, settling back in the swinging chair. When the door shuts behind the two men, you press a hand to your chest, feeling the rattle of your heartbeat.

---

You wake as though through fog, to a noise you can’t quite place.

It’s quiet, but almost right by your head. A slick, rhythmic sound, heavy breaths, quiet groans, curses. Through slipping sleep, you process them, too tired to be embarrassed, to be thinking straight. The sounds of Frankie jerking off go straight to your core, and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter as you listen, as you slip your hand beneath the elastic of your panties and join him, careful to muffle your own sounds to hear him better.

You become frantic as he grows louder, as he mutters to himself, as his bed moves just enough to squeak. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he looses a particularly loud fuck, and then a strangely familiar word, followed by a long, low groan. You come hard on your fingers, panting as the heat subsides, as you hear Frankie leave his room and head to the bathroom.

Languid and liquid in the sunbeams on your blankets, it takes you longer than it should to decipher what you’d heard. Longer than it should to wonder if it really was your name he’d gasped as he came.

Frankie needs air.

He needs to get out of the apartment, so while he’s drinking his morning coffee, he drafts up a list of things to do. Parcels to return, small things to buy, a new coffee shop he’d like to try out. Anything to try and clear you out his head. The feel of your body pressed against his on the seat, the ghosting of your fingers on the inside of his wrist, the flame in your eyes. The way you’d jumped when Will found you, whether you meant it, whether he was imagining it, what he was going to do, what he was not going to do -

You shuffle into the kitchen still in your pyjamas, stifling a yawn behind a hand. You help yourself to coffee from the percolator, and Frankie tells you he’s heading out. You nod and give him a squeeze, saying you’re off to the gym, anyway. Frankie tries not to think of how your ass looks in your blue leggings, and sets off down the stairwell.

He stays out for as long as possible, breathing in the fresh, spring air, looking into shop windows and petting passing dogs. He only decides to call it a day when his stomach starts growling and his feet start aching.

He feels good, energised.

Maybe he should get out more often.

Frankie shuts the front door gently behind him, placing his keys in the bowl. He says your name, only half expecting a reply. You didn’t say when you were heading out, or when you’d be back.

He yanks his boots off by the shoe rack you set up last week, and tucks them away neatly. His feet carry him towards the kitchen, fingers itching to hold a cup of coffee and sandwich before a soft sound stops him. His heart leaps in his throat, and he freezes, not daring to take another step.

He registers the soft sound of the running shower, and anticipation lodges itself in his belly. He waits, heart hammering in his chest, and almost moves before he definitely, definitely hears it again.

You moan softly on the other side of the bathroom door, and Frankie’s eyes flutter shut.

He should go. He should absolutely go, but he can see from here in the hallway that the bathroom door is open just a crack. And he has always been a flawed person, which is why it doesn’t surprise him that when he goes to shut it, to knock, to move past, he can’t keep himself from looking. Can’t stop his eyes from finding you, back against the tile, hair dripping down your shoulders, water spattering across your skin as you stand with your legs apart, one hand spreading you open, fingers moving fast across your clit. Frankie grips onto the door handle as his eyes close again.

Because he knows what’s about to happen. Hot shame floods through him as his cock hardens embarrassingly fast, a thin ringing in his ears as he opens his eyes again, takes in the soft flesh of your thighs, the flow of water, the rivulets tracing your skin, your glistening core, the way your fingers move so desperately -

And Frankie can see it, can feel it, can taste it when he imagines opening the door and climbing there with you, not giving you a chance to be surprised before he sinks to his knees and replaces your hand with his mouth.

With shaking fingers, he unbuttons his jeans, unzips his fly, and begins to stroke his cock.

He has no idea how long you’ve been in there for, but he watches closely, ravenously for your tells. It’s not gonna take him long, but he wants to watch you fall apart first.

He watches you move your weight so you slump a little lower on the wall, a harsh gasp leaving your lips. He watches as your hips twitch and roll forwards as you slow your pace, rubbing harder instead of faster, and he barely contains his own moan as you whine, high-pitched and needy, echoing off the walls. He watches your tummy clench with each stroke of your fingers, stares with drooling amazement as you snake a hand up your body to grasp and play with your tits, squeezing them, rolling your nipples between your fingers, pinching them as hard as you can. Frankie grunts when you gasp out a fuck, and for a long, heart clenching second, he thinks you hear him. You slow your movements, trying to peer through the dark crack in the door.

Frankie can’t move, can’t stop fisting his cock as he watches you, precum dripping through his fingers, the dirty thrill of getting caught spurring him on.

You listen carefully, turning your head to the side to see if you can catch any more noises. Satisfied you’re still alone, you continue, this time quickly finding a pace which Frankie can tell will send you off the edge. Your wet skin, the slick sounds of your fingers even over the running water, and your moans, gasps, curses, getting even louder.

Frankie stares still, enraptured by the goddess in front of him unravelling herself, and he wants nothing more than to touch you, taste you, smell you. He tries not to think of what he’d give to be inside you, but a soft moan escapes him anyway. Imagining the clench of your warm, wet cunt, hearing you make those noises for him, the slip of your wet skin in his grasp, your tits in his hands, the bite of your teeth on his shoulder sends him rocketing to his orgasm. He barely has time to wrap the bottom of his t-shirt around his cock, biting his fist as he empties himself, opening his eyes just in time to watch your body spasm and clench, your back arch, your head knock against the tiles as you cry out oh fuck, oh fuck, oh god.

Once you finish riding it out, whimpering and twitching, you close your eyes and breathe heavily. Frankie feels feverish, head tipping forwards onto the door frame as he tucks himself gently back into his boxers and pulls his jeans back up. He takes one last breath before a short, shrill beep echoes throughout the apartment.

Your eyes snap to the door again as you jump, and Frankie flinches, slowly backing away as you cock your head at the gap. Beep. Frankie can feel his pulse in his ears as he reaches the front door with soft treads, managing to open it quietly through his blind panic just as you turn the shower off. He slams it shut, calling your name from the entryway, cringing at the breaking huskiness of his voice. He waits a few seconds as though he’s taking off his shoes before running to his room, hearing the snick of the bathroom door closing just as his shuts behind him.

Frankie leans against the wood, forcing short breaths in and out his nose. Beep.

The smoke detector again, on the other side of the door. It shocks him back to life as he rips his shirt off, stuffing it deep in his laundry hamper before scrambling for a new one, praying to whatever god is out there that you hadn’t just caught him in such an obvious lie. That you hadn’t just caught him jerking off to you masturbating in the shower.

Frankie leaves his room as quickly as possible, knowing that the longer he stays in there the more likely it is you’ll know something is wrong. He yanks the door open, stepping out into the hallway, stopping to listen on the hardwood floor. There’s not a peep from the rest of the flat, but the door to the bathroom is now wide open, small tendrils of steam slipping out into the hallway. Frankie takes a deep breath and steps lightly down the hallway to the kitchen, intent on coffee this time, on something to distract him, something to do with his hands. Beep.

He works on autopilot as he pours the grounds into the percolator, throwing up a mental wall every time a glimmer of your body passes through his mind. When he sets it over the stove top he grips the counter, shoulders hunched, chewing his cheek as he breathes heavily through his nose. This time, the beep of the smoke detector makes him jump, and he swipes a hand over his mouth.

‘We need to change the batteries in that.’ You say, and Frankie flinches as you breeze past him into the kitchen. He can’t look at you, shame and arousal colouring his neck, all the way up to the tips of his ears. He makes a noise in his throat, and you shoot him a look over your shoulder.

‘You okay?’ You ask. He swings his eyes to you, and you look back at him the same as always. Warm, kind. You can’t know. You must be oblivious, and somehow that makes it worse.

‘Yeah,’ he says, and tries to smile, ‘Just need a coffee.’

His eyes try not to linger on your body, try not to linger on your lips, your hands. He grips the countertop harder. Stop it. Stop thinking about it.

You smile back at him.

‘If you’re sure,’ you say, sidling closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. You squeeze and wink up at him. ‘Can you make me one? I’m exhausted.’

Frankie tries to muffle his sharp intake of air with a cough. I’m exhausted. How long had you been in there? Had you even been to the gym? Or had you just spent the morning grinding and moaning and coming -

‘Sure.’ He croaks, and you frown at him.

‘You’re really feeling okay?’ You ask, bringing the back of your hand to his forehead. ‘Might be coming down with something. Tired and coughing.’

He shakes his head a little too enthusiastically.

‘No, I’m fine.’ He says, interrupted only by the beep of the smoke alarm. You pull a face at it, and he moves to take the coffee off the stove.

‘Go get the ladder,’ he says, ‘And I’ll change the batteries.’

You swish out of the kitchen, and Frankie scrubs his face with his hands, groaning out a god before taking two mugs from the cupboard and filling them. He’s just finished pouring in the creamer when you struggle back through the doorway, huffing under the weight of the stepladder.

‘Coffee’s there.’ He says, jerking his head in the direction of the mugs as he takes it from you. Frankie sets it up under the detector, stepping up the first couple of rungs before you stand in front of him. He quirks an eyebrow at you, and you tighten your hands around the ladder’s sides, holding it steady.

‘Don’t want you doing any damage to yourself.’ You say softly.

Frankie nods and continues climbing, trying not to think of how close you are. He focuses as he reaches the ceiling, stretching up to unscrew the device.

You swallow as you’re exposed to the slither of skin the action reveals, golden in the afternoon light, and the dark hair which trails down, down, below the waistline of his jeans.

‘Take it for me.’ He says from above you, and you drag your eyes away to meet his, flushing as you reach up to grab the alarm, fingers brushing. You watch as Frankie’s gaze darkens, as he takes you in, flushed, lips bitten, standing at the perfect height. The greedy way you’d been looking at his stomach, water, thighs, fingers -

‘Thank you.’ He says, and you take the detector away to replace the batteries, your fingers shaking. Frankie watches you hungrily, the curve of your jeans, the slope of your neck when you flick your hair behind you. He’s still watching when you turn back to him and hand him the device.

‘Good girl.’ He says. Heat rushes through you at the words, your breath catching in your throat. Frankie’s movements falter only slightly before he’s reaching up again to screw the detector back in. You stare at his belly, the coarse hair, and try to think of anything but nuzzling your nose against the skin, breathing him in, unbuttoning his jeans, taking his cock in your mouth, thinking about what he’d look like, what he’d feel like, what he’d taste like, whether it would be as good as what you’d imagined in the shower -

Frankie steps down from the ladder, prizing your hands off the metal, folding it shut and carrying it back out the room.

‘All done.’ He says.

You run a hand through your hair, pinching the bridge of your nose. Jesus.

You take a seat at the dining room table, and when Frankie joins you, you drink your coffee in near silence.

At work, later that evening, you shut yourself in the bathroom during your break. You bite your lip so hard it bleeds when you make yourself come, embarrassingly quick, to thoughts of what might have happened if you’d kissed Frankie’s stomach on the ladder. The uncomfortable ache in your core barely sated, your panties soaked, you try to do anything to distract yourself for the rest of the shift. Anything to keep your hands busy.

And in his bed, later that night, when he’s sure you must be asleep, Frankie takes his cock in his hand again. It doesn’t take him long, guiltily indulging in what he’d seen from the crack in the bathroom door. He comes with a quiet groan and a whisper of your name, wishing that you were there to lick the salt off his chest.

He falls asleep to thoughts of you, like he has done from the night you met.

---

A week passes, and Frankie's pretty sure he's going insane.

He can’t shower without picturing the way you had stood there, moaning and gasping. He can’t stop thinking of the way you had looked at him on the ladder, the way you’d looked at him sat on Will’s porch. He has to jerk off at least twice a day, and aside from it being a fucking inconvenience, he’s beginning to feel like a creep.

He thinks he needs to get laid.

There’s a girl you work with - Tasha - who gave Frankie her number not long after you started living together. She was pretty, nice enough, but Frankie hadn’t been looking for anything, and he certainly didn’t want to shit where you ate. But he texts her anyway. It’s late and sleazy, but she says yes. They meet at a bar, and when they stumble through the front door, you’re already home.

You’re sprawled out on your bed, a joint already rolled, leftovers from work in the fridge, ready to hunker down and fill Frankie in on your day, ready to hear him tell you about his, watch some shit on the television. Tonight felt like a David Attenborough night.

You jump as the front door bangs open, as two sets of feet come tumbling in. Your heart beats loudly in your chest at the noise, at the intrusion, unsure whether you should leap up to defend your roommate or hide. Then you hear the wet sounds of kissing, the low mumble of Frankie’s words, a high-pitched laugh you recognise as the front door shuts and Frankie’s opens.

You wait with baited breath, somehow unable to believe what is happening. Your fingers flutter on your chest, anxiously pressing the skin there.

Frankie’s never brought anyone home before. You don’t quite know what to do with yourself.

You’ve also never quite thought about how thin the wall is between your bedroom and his.

The realisation makes your skin flush, heated even more when you hear the mumbles and groans from the other side of the wall. Frankie saying something in a language you don’t understand, and Tasha’s breathy reply.

You don’t know how long you listen for, frozen on your mattress as you listen to the creak of Frankie’s bed, the whines and moans falling from them. The low timber of Frankie’s speech sinks itself into the centre of your body, heating and melting. You close your eyes as you try to pick out what he’s saying, as you listen for his panting breaths, his low moans. You can feel your underwear growing wet with slick, your body tightening - hot - and then Tasha cries out.

The sound shocks you from your reverie, shame, annoyance imploring your body to move. You raise up on your knees and pound your fist against the wall. Everything falls silent.

You breathe deeply for a moment before Frankie says something quietly, answered only by Tasha’s low giggle. Your tongue feels like ash in your throat as they both say a couple more things, more laughs pouring through the wall before you’re up, pulling on a hoodie over your tank top, leaving your room.

There’s another shock of silence as Frankie and Tasha hear you moving, but you’re already pulling your trainers on. You can hear Frankie say something on the other side of his door, can hear it getting louder as he moves towards it, but you’re slamming the front door closed before he can intercept you.

Your Uber ride is quiet, seething. You chew your lip, clench and unclench your fists. Your phone buzzes in your grip several times, but you don’t check it.

When you reach the low, suburban house with the cacti out front, you waste no time worrying about whether you look pretty enough. Because he’s always said you are on the nights when he’s had too much to drink.

You should know better before you raise your hand to knock. But you don’t spare a second thought as your knuckles rap against the wood. You shut down all other thoughts as the door swings open, him knowing exactly when to expect you as soon as you’d called. Something about military training and timing.

‘Hey.’ Benny says, standing in the doorway, moving aside to let you pass.

‘Hey.’ You smile back at him as you step into his house, toeing off your trainers, stripping yourself of your hoodie.

Benny eyes you hungrily as you stand before him in your tank top. You feel the heat coil in your belly again as he steps towards you, the slick in your underwear pooling as he kisses you hard and hot and open mouthed, as you tangle your hands in his hair, as you scratch at the bare skin of his hip beneath his top. You moan against him when you feel him already hard at your stomach.

‘Bed.’ He growls.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal x reader #peach pit #tommy's party #you and your friends #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #Spotify

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hotchfiles · 2 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — one. the drumroll.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. content warnings: very canon divergent because criminal minds timelines fuck me up. emotional cheating (not on reader). no happy ending (for now). angst. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. word count: 1,5+k. a/n: summary based on himym's victoria and her theory.

laughter fills the room and you feel your cheeks grow warmer, the scotch you told him earlier you were not going to drink burning your throat as hotch called you a weak drinker, “this is supposed to be a celebration, hotchner, why would i want this hellish thing burning my insides?” you complain even though it’s the third time he refilled your cup already.

“burning insides is not that bad of a feeling.” he probably doesn’t mean it to sound as dirty as it does, but the proximity, the alcohol and the attraction you can’t help but feel for him turn almost everything that leaves his lips into an invitation you just can’t accept.

still, you laugh and raise an eyebrow, “it depends of the cause of the burning, sir, would rather something else warm me up, scotch isn’t my first choice.” his own laugh is more contained, air leaving his nostrils and cheeks flushing at the path the conversation was taking.

unconsciously, or you both rather believe it was, you scooched closer to him, his hand landing on your thigh and suddenly none of you two were laughing. his hand felt like fire ablaze on you, a fire only aaron himself could extinguish and it was obvious he felt the same, his eyes glued to your lips and breathing heavy as the drinks on your stomach.

you close your eyes, that feeling of anticipation running over you and you sense his other hand lift, cupping your cheek affectionately, you lean on it and the cold feeling makes you come back to reality, opening your eyes and getting up quickly.

his wedding band.

he was married. recently married to his high school sweetheart.

this could not be happening.

you were both in the hotel room you were sharing as rossi and gideon shared other, alone, drinking.

this could not be happening.

aaron shakes his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts of you filling his mind, a pained expression as he did so. "that's enough scotch." it's merely a whisper but to you it sounds loud as a drum, ringing right through your ear.

"yeah, i–i'm gonna take a shower." you take your whole bag, no time to sort through anything and lock yourself in the bathroom, banging your head to the wall a few times softly.

this could not be happening.

the sun does nothing but upset his pale skin, doesn’t matter how many times you’re both burning under it looking through a crime scene, he never gets even slightly tanned. his neck is starting to get red but you can’t help but love the las vegas desert for forcing him to wear sunglasses that give his boyish features more edge.

“stop staring at me, i’m red as it is.” caught. he doesn’t look at you to call you out, feeling your eyes on him whenever you got lost on his features. he never gave you the grace of not calling you out on it, like you did whenever you caught him staring at you. truthfully, you were too afraid he would stop looking for good if you did. so you let him stare at your profile, your hands, and even your ass when he thought you weren’t looking. he’s a guy, if someone else caught him it wouldn’t be too damaging.

“i’m not staring, did you even put sunblock before coming?” by now you’re both just walking back to the car, parked way too far from the scene not to disturb it.

“you know i don’t like the feeling of it on my skin.” you do know it, as he knows you like when your chapsticks taste fruity instead of sweet. as both of you share the knowledge of the smallest and biggest things about each other.

“you’re gonna look like an old man in less than five years.”

“and you’re still gonna love me.” the nonchalance of his voice is what kills you the most. he knows he shouldn’t be saying these things. he knows he shouldn’t smirk like that when he does it. but by keeping it light it gives the feeling of innocence. just banter between two co-workers who spend way too much time together.

“yeah, sure…”

stuck between a rock and a hard place would be the perfect explanation for the conundrum you were put in. taste of the last beer you mouthed down in one go still on your tongue as you took the hand aaron so willingly offered you.

haley was just some steps away, graciously dancing with dave, nothing weird or suspicious about it, as it had been when you danced with him, gideon and other people from the bureau that night.

when aaron got to asking you for one you couldn’t tell him no without being suspicious, but even though you two had never crossed any physical lines, the uneasy feeling by the pit of your stomach made it seem like everyone around knew how you shivered whenever he touched you.

it was a slow song, purposefully so as he waited anxiously for one so he could dance with you, his eyes looked like flames as they burnt holes into your skin before turning away. no words come from you nor him, his hands gripping on your waist as yours delicately stayed on his shoulder desperately trying to look normal was enough for you two to know exactly what was going through each other’s minds.

how he wished he could be like that forever, feeling your warmth and your trembling under his fingers, and how he knew he shouldn’t feel like that.

he loved haley. she was his best oldest friend. his high school sweetheart. she brought him back to earth whenever he was too into the horrors of his work. his beautiful caring wife. aaron would never do anything on purpose to hurt her, he wouldn’t cheat, even if working with you made him think about it every single day.

still, you felt like the mistress. the other woman. you felt your morals twirl inside you as if they were stored in your stomach ready to be thrown out any time he was close–which was all the time, it was the job.

the way you tethered between the acceptable and the borderline cheating with the lingering hugs to feel each other and each other’s scents, the late night talking that began with just work but always ended in something completely different–how he loved the beatles and the white album and you loved telling him each time a different album of theirs that was better, simply to piss him off. abbey road gave us come together and here comes the sun, hotch, white album has nothing on it. that was the last one, but once it was revolver, then rubber soul, you just had fun seeing his brows furrowed for something other than work.

haley got him out of it, but you embraced him for his full self. the nearly obsessive fbi agent and the nerd who used to collect coins. you would put your hand on his shoulder and sit by his side, take half of the files and go hours and hours on end analyzing it with him, even when the case was classified inactive. if he didn’t give up on it, neither did you, and it always went both ways.

for him, truly, it was nearly impossible to give that up. and it was impossible to bury his feelings too deep, it was always bubbling up at the surface, like a finger always brushing a against a trigger but never pulling it.

the song ends after a mix of eternity and seconds, and the beat of the next one pulls you both back to reality, your hands leaving his strong shoulders as if they were filled with thorns ready to hurt you. “i need a drink.” you say more to yourself than to him.

he doesn’t reply, but his eyes tell you the only thing he wants to say.

i’m so sorry this can’t happen.

he’s the one to take you to the airport, and he won’t cry or ask you to stay, he tried already when you told him about transferring to the crisis negotiation unit. but his eyes do water at the thought of not having you by his side at arms reach, even if you were just a few miles away in washington. it was far enough to cut the cord. to put an ending to whatever it was that existed between you two and had been brewing for the past two years.

instinctively he holds you as if there was nothing to come between you, his forehead touches yours and you both close your eyes. lips so close they could touch. that doesn’t happen.

it won’t happen.

shamelessly you let your tears fall and aaron soaks it up with his thumbs, “no crying. i’ll always have your back, understand? anything you need, call me.” the underlining of it is a silent prayer, begging you to call either way, to not forget him. you won’t call, he knows it, still, he begs.

you won’t forget him, and still, you won’t call.

the last glance you share say it all.

i wish this could’ve happened.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario #aaron hotchner angst #hotch angst

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sluttyminghao · 11 months

Text

down under ♡ j.w.w

♡ pairing: idol!wonwoo x female!reader ♡ genre: smut ♡ word count: 1.6k ♡ this fic contains: long-distance relationship, guided masturbation, video chatting, masturbation (f and m), wonwoo has a very very deep voice, reader gets off to his voice ♡ synopsis: wonwoo has landed in a new country and is pretty tired, but still makes the effort to call you. what he doesn't realize is how his husky voice will affect you. ♡ a/n: I wish I could say I was sorry but I'm really not, big thanks to @lovelyhan for proofreading for me :)

“Oh, hey!”

“Hey, baby, how are you?”

Wonwoo’s voice comes through the screen a little crackly, but it settles relatively quickly as his laptop adjusts to the hotel’s wifi. You can see him perfectly clearly, his dark hair fluffed up and his round specs perched delicately on the bridge of his nose. You could immediately see how exhausted he was, the dark circles under his eyes are prominent, but he still managed to call you as soon as he got to his hotel room and got settled in.

It made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m okay, the bed feels empty without you but I’m sure I’ll manage, I always have,” your sentence has wonwoo’s features morphing into one of guilt, but he brushes it off quickly knowing that you always do fine when he goes away on tour. He smiles as you continue chatting about your day and what you did after he left for the airport in the early hours of the morning.

He didn’t want to leave you, your sleeping form nestled comfortably under the two blankets you always required. It was hard to drag himself out of the warmth of the bed you two shared and into the cool autumn air, but it was part of his job as an idol to be prepared at any time for any situation.

“But enough about me, how’s Australia? Was the flight over okay?” You see Wonwoo chuckle as he readjusts himself on the hotel bed, to which you can see a peek of his naked collarbone and shoulders. You had been so wrapped up in catching up with him before that you hadn’t even noticed he was half-naked and sitting on camera with you.

“The flight over was…okay? I didn’t get a lot of sleep because Vernon kept talking to me about a new video game that’s coming out soon, but the food was good, especially for plane food, and didn’t have any trouble with customs,” his voice is so soothing but you can tell he’s tired just from how it’s dropped an octave.

You don’t want to admit the way his voice sounds is turning you on, especially given how exhausted he was from his flight. However, you couldn’t help feeling your panties begin to stick to your folds the more he elaborated on what the band’s tour would be like over the next few weeks, the deep and dulcet tones of his voice going straight to your pussy.

Whilst Wonwoo was exhausted, he was still sharp enough to see you weren’t in the right frame of mind either; your fingers picking at the skin of your lips and your eyes darting in all directions, not looking him in the eye (as best as you could over a camera anyway.)

“Baby, what’s going on?”

Your mind is hazed over with lust, your fingers teasing your sopping folds and picturing that they were Wonwoo’s instead. You had almost completely forgotten he was on camera with you, observing how your body writhes and how your whimpers cascade through his speakers like a wonderful harmony.

He doesn’t have to ask you again what’s going on.

That’s when he begins to formulate a plan, something that will send you over the edge over and over.

“Angel, come back to me, I want to see your pretty face.”

You're finally snapped out of your haze at the use of the pet name, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn at the prospect of what you’d just been caught doing. You can see Wonwoo grinning at you like he normally does when you are desperate for release. What you can’t see, however, below the camera is that he’s now discarded his slacks and is sitting butt naked on his bed, cock rigid and leaking precum onto his lower abdomen.

“Sorry…kinda got caught up…”

He raises an eyebrow at you as you try to explain yourself and trip over your own words, and can’t help but notice you’ve removed your loose-fitting shirt and are now sitting in just your bra and presumably, underwear. Just imagining the sight of you alone like that has his cock twitching against his stomach.

“What were you thinking about darling? Guide me through your thoughts.”

You can see his eyes have grown darker, pooling with lust and want. Your heartbeat quickens and suddenly you feel much more vulnerable than before, but push the feelings down very quickly and gasp when you glance back at the camera.

Wonwoo has shifted his laptop to the end of the bed, exposing his naked body to your eyes. You can see how his cock is red and angry, with small pools of precum landing in the crevices of his abs. He wraps a hand around his cock and begins to pump himself slowly, and you watch as his head falls back with a small groan at the contact.

“Go on, angel, tell me.”

“Oh, uh, well, I saw your collarbones earlier and I pictured myself leaving marks on them, and then I pictured your fingers teasing me all along my thighs and my pussy…”

Your voice trails off as you watch Wonwoo spread his legs and start pumping his cock quicker, his groans and moans becoming much more prominent the more you talk. You can’t help but to kick your panties and bra off and spread your legs, moving your laptop to the end of the bed so he can see all of you.

“Keep g-going, fuck, so good for me…”

A new wave of arousal floods your body and you can feel your cunt growing slicker by the second. Your fingers quickly find your folds again and begin to tease, sliding up and down almost torturously while your thumb glides over your clit and makes your thighs twitch with the contact.

“I… I also picture how good you fuck me, how you hold my throat when I-I’m about to cum, and-and how you always hold my thighs apart and tell me how good I am for you,” you finish your sentence with a whine as you let a finger slip inside your entrance, still feeling empty without his touch.

Despite your comments coming to a stop, Wonwoo’s movements don’t. With the perfect mixture of his imagination and your words, as well as your pretty whines and moans coming through his laptop speaker, he’s able to buck his hips into his hands harshly and bring himself to the brink of his orgasm.

Your mind is complete mush as you slip a second finger into your entrance, pumping quickly to find your own release. A hand reaches up to squeeze at your boobs, imagining it’s his large hands rather than your own, much smaller in comparison to his and not feeling nearly the same.

For a while, you both just let each other get caught up in your moans and whines, letting them tangle together in the most harmonious of ways. The sight of you alone has Wonwoo almost blowing his load, and he has to bring his hand down to his base and squeeze tightly enough to ensure he wouldn’t cum as quickly.

“I’m close,” Wonwoo’s voice has grown even deeper in his own chase for release and you feel the rubber band in your stomach tighten even more. Even though he’s not physically with you, it’s almost as if you can feel him with you as your orgasm begins to peak. He can tell you’re close too, with the way your voice quivers with each moan and word you try to pronounce.

“Cum with me, angel, are you ready?”

You whine out your response as your thumb moves harshly over your clit and a third finger enters your dripping cunt, picturing that it’s his cock instead. Incoherent mumbles begin slipping from your lips and your mind grows delirious as you wait for his signal to cum.

“Three.”

“Two…”

“O-one. Cum with me, baby.”

The white light explodes over your vision as you cum hard from his command, your fingers getting coated in juices and your body trembling violently as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. You peek your eyes open and can see Wonwoo in a very similar situation, except he has cum painting his entire abdomen up to his chest, and all down his thighs.

While you both come down from your highs, you can hear each other panting and it takes all your strength to pull yourself up and bring the laptop back up so that your face and chest are all that’s in view now. You take in the sight of him post-orgasm, still recovering with his head hanging low and his thighs lightly trembling.

“Won? Are you okay baby?”

He lifts his head and smiles at you dopily, before lifting his laptop back onto his lap. You can see his lips are slightly swollen from being bitten, and he looks so soft. While you wish you could stay on call longer, you knew it was getting late for him, and he still had to shower and eat.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“Good, now please go and eat something and get to bed early, you look like you’re going to fall asleep any second!”

He grins at your loving scolding and says his goodbyes to you, but not before blowing you an air kiss and promising to call you when he wakes up the following morning. You smile and turn your computer off, before heading to the shower to think about Wonwoo and his fingers some more.

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teddypickerry · 1 year

Note

adding onto the Jess Mariano x reader where he has a crush on her, it’s sort of like how he was with Rory except he’s more touchy but not in an uncomfortable way, It’s like those guys that make excuses to touch you

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄.

pairing! jess mariano x fem! gilmore reader

word count! 2k

warnings! strong language

summary! in which your best friend jess pines for you by doing things for you <3

a/n! this kinda sucks but whatever. this is also unedited!!! promise i’ll edit it later. also WHY IS THERE LIKE NO JESS BLURBS ON HERE?? i’ve read all of them. help. if you want to be tagged everytime i post a jess fic or any fic really sign up for my taglist <3

THE AMBIENCE OF STARS HOLLOW had never seen the same since jess mariano moved to town. the charming town filled with chilling weather and almost burnt colored leaves were hardly the same. there was something about the leather jacket wearing boy that changed the traditional small town. maybe it was because he was the only atheist in town, taylor doose had spread around the town.

the moment you heard the words utter from the market owner you had huffed. it had never been fair to judge someone for their beliefs or views, unless they were actively hurting someone with their words or of course - physically. that's what you had been taught at least and seemed to have believed throughout all sixteen years of life. so the moment the town came conspiring against the new boy, you were sure to make sure there was someone on his side.

so when you came to work that morning you complimented his band t-shirt. and with that, you seemed pretty much in. it had been almost two months since the boy moved to the small town and you had nearly forgotten life without him. you'd grown very fond of him, despite the rest of the town's opinions differing. but luke enjoyed the two of you and your friendship. "it's good for him" the diner owner told lorelai gilmore, your mother, one evening. she never found herself agreeing but it was hard when she watched him chase you around the diner with an album in his hand. smiles brightly shone on both of your faces.

it was two days later that you found yourself wiping the diner counters after school. earbuds placed in your ears. a familiar melody playing throughout them, your favorite song. one jess had learned was your favorite his third day in the hollow. when you gasped excitedly when it began to play on the radio, singing along making him smile. a grin he quickly yanked off of his mouth when his uncle luke caught him. "sleep with a hanger in your mouth, huh? got a little crush, jessie? aw." he could practically hear luke's words.

so you scrubbed the counters, the sound of the diner bell being unheard as the boy entered. his jean jacket toppled over a flannel. truly channeling his inner john bender. it was easy to spot you. something about the magnetism you seemed to have on him. you were a goddamn fridge. and he truly believed that in a good way.

you nearly screamed when you felt arms around your waist, picking you up quickly. you were quick to realize it was jess as he lifted you off the ground, making you drop the cleaning rag onto the table. you swatted him with your free hand as an earbud fell from your ear. "what are you doing?" you nearly screamed at the boy as your interaction was now the lady liberty of the diner. "got something for ya'."

"is it on the ceiling? i don't think so. so just put me down, jess mariano!" he chuckled at your words as he set you on the ground. you were quick to turn around nearly falling into the boy not used to how close he was standing to you. there was a pretty smirk on his face. one you honestly couldn't stop thinking about. but the envelope in his hand had your attention much more. "what's that?"

"your will to live. picked it up for you off your grandmother's shoe," jess's lips curved at his own words as you fought a smirk. a hum released from your mouth as you reached forward for the envelope resulting in him reaching for it about his head. he couldn't bare the look on your face as you gave him your best puppy dog face. "jess," you whined. pulling the earbuds from your ears and sitting them on the table. "i will strangle you with these."

"but then we can't go see the strokes," he tilted his eyebrows as you furrowed your own. you stood frozen for a moment in confusion. there was no way you were going to see the strokes. you hadn't even able to get tickets the week before when they were being sold. despite wanting to go more than having a left leg. "okay that's a sick joke. even for you."

"me, joke? nev-a." jess smiled as he tapped the envelope to your chest. you had never been more confused as you reached for it, pulling it into your hands. he had taken a step back as you opened the envelope between the two of you. and there they were. two tickets to see the strokes. "jess...?"

"happy birthday," jess joked knowing your birthday was several months ago. you had wasted no time jumping into him, your arms wrapping around him as he wrapped back. picking you up in the process, before you pulled him back down. your arms wrapped around his neck as he laughed into your shoulder. there was doubt every customer in the diner was watching the two of you. the disturbance causing great entertainment for the eating folk. especially luke, who was stood in awe of his nephew. who seemed very selfless in this moment. first time for everything, i guess.

it was three days later that jess mariano found himself staring up at the sky. the dark shade of blue filled with stars that lit the night sky - but they had nothing on you. your beautiful face remained a thought in his mind all night long. until he we would see you at school, where he couldn't help but stare at you as you sat at your seat. smiling at him ever so slightly. he just wanted to hug you. he didn't know why. i mean jess was never one for hugs but god - he could hug you until the poets ran out of rhyme. in other words, until the end of time.

the next week, spider-man was at the stars hollow theater. so naturally, the two of you found yourselves clung together in a red love seat in the small room. several groups of people around you guys, all focused on the film. but jess couldn't keep his eyes off of you. a popcorn balanced in your lap, one he argued to buy you but you won that argument of course. your eyes were locked on tobey maguire while his on you. you noticed the moment you sat down how close he was to you. your legs touching as he leaned in a little closer. jess wasn't the guy to get nervous, no, but he was a little nervous around you.

so when you turned to him twenty minutes into the film, your eyes locking, his heart nearly stopped. "are you gonna watch the movie or what?" you whispered to him, a newfound confidence boosting through you. he could only admire how close your face was to his in that moment. and how much he wanted to kiss you. "hm, i like this view much better."

and with that, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in. your head leaned onto jess's shoulder nuzzling into him comfortably. and fuck, he would have thought he died and went to heaven.

nearly two weeks later was the concert. the two of you hadn't seen one another very often since the movie night. partly because you were stuck with your grandparents in maine for a few days, and partly because jess's feelings towards you started to mess with him a little bit. he didn't want to mess up whatever the two of you had first of all, and second of all, he had never felt this way before. sure, he had went on a few dates. but those were dates with girls. but you, you were so much more. you were his favorite person. so, he couldn't fuck that up.

but, the evening of the concert be sucked all his feelings down. not ready to ruin an evening the both of you looked forward to so much, over his feelings. a red baseball tee cling to his waist, his classic leather jacket over it to fight the cold december month. he leaned against the door as he knocked on it loudly, making sure you would hear.

the moment the door opened, he completely forgot the attempt of lost feelings for the evening. the way you looked in your tank top and jeans (and of course leather jacket) made his heart jump a mile. he decided in that moment, that he wanted you. he truly did. scratch that. he needed you.

"hey, jess." your voice was like a simple song turned to a symphony. you immediately noticed his hand on the doorway, his position giving you a great look of him. your heart also raced. god, you're both idiots.

"hey, y/n. you..." jess's voice trailed off as he gave you a small smirk, one that was too familiar. he let out a breath as he stood normally and stepped back. "c'mon."

you wasted no time shutting the door behind you, following him to the car. there was something off about him today. you knew he was avoiding you, you'd called him three times in the past week and everytime luke answered. "uh... he's busy right now, y/n. he'll call you later." spoiler alert, he never called.

the entire car ride reciprocated the interactions between the two of you in the past few weeks. silent, awkward, & non-existent. the radio hummed in the background during the hour drive. jess tapped along to the beat as you got lost looking out the window. it was forty minutes in that you finally glanced over at him. his eyes were on the road, his hand messing around with the radio. "are you gonna watch the road or not?" jess asked, mirroring your words from weeks before.

you let out a laugh, biting down on your lip for a second as you watched him glance over at you. with that pretty boy glance that made you go mad. "i like this view much better." you repeated his own words, a smile appearing on his lips. it was what happened next that made you nearly jump a mile. jess moved his hand from the radio, settling on some black sabbath. his fingers brushed your knee, warmly placing them above his knee. his hand cupped your leg, inching it up slightly. jess rested it directly in the middle of your thigh.

the smile on both of your faces spoke for the two of you. and god, it felt so good. the moment you arrived at the venue jess didn't let you out of his touch. his fingers intertwining with yours as you made your way with the crowd. his warm hands never left yours even when handing the tickets to the bouncers - which of course was a hassle. but you couldn't complain. because the way you felt when he touched you was something unbelievable and something you never felt before. you truly wanted to be his.

standing beneath the stage with hundreds of other people. but all you wanted to do was look at the boy beside you. the boy who bought you tickets for the show. the boy who punched the guy who said he'd have to "double bag" if he got anywhere near you. the same boy who snuck into your room last month when you called him up crying, to simply let you know you had someone. and the exact same boy who you were falling in love with. and who was falling in love with you.

the lights dimmed as the band took stage. the shared smiles on both of your faces and squeeze between your hands was all you ever needed. several songs and several sweet interactions between you two as he watched you dance around and laughed along. singing together as he wrapped his arms around you. and simply simple shared smiles. it was when "last nite" started playing that you noticed him looking at you a certain way. the concert was ending soon. and your seeming fairytale coming to an end.

but the perfect ending to the perfect night had to happen at once. the sweet sounds of the band echoing throughout the venue. his eyes were locked on you, no care for anyone one else around the two of you. his hand gripped your waist, the other already holding your hand. you looked at him, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him in closer. and just like that, his lips pressed to yours. your lips moved together passionately something the both of you had both waited for, for months.

"i'm gonna take you home as my girlfriend."

#jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #gilmore girls oc #gilmore girls #rory gilmore sister #jess mariano x y/n #milo ventimiglia

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captainsophiestark · 7 months

Text

Subtle Clues

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Star Wars

Day 4 Prompt: "Do you even know what this means?"

Summary: Anakin and his SO think they're doing a great job of keeping their relationship a secret. They are not.

Word Count: 1,197

Category: Fluff, Humor

Dedicated to @ghostofskywalker for her help coming up with an idea for this prompt! Thanks Tori!!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been in Skyguy's quarters before. Have you?"

That one little question from Ahsoka, Anakin's padawan, made my heart stop in my chest. I'd been in Anakin's quarters many, many times, the most recent being just last night when we fell asleep curled up on his couch together. But because of the Jedi, I couldn't admit that I was dating Anakin. It was our most carefully kept secret. So, I shook my head.

"I probably have at some point, I've known him so long," I said, being very careful to sound casual. "But I don't remember the last time, or for what."

"I bet he's a mess," Ahsoka chimed, skipping along next to me without a care in the world. I smiled a little, despite how tired I was.

Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and I were shipping out from Coruscant after a brief stint back here. Anakin had left early this morning, along with Captain Rex and a few other key members of the 501st, to start getting things back in order. As a result, I'd had to wake up even brighter and earlier to get back to my own quarters before Rex showed up to leave with Anakin. Now, because Anakin had forgotten his datapad, I had to go all the way back to his quarters a few hours later to get it for him.

"He's definitely a mess," I grumbled. To be fair, I'd probably qualify too. But still.

We pushed open the door to his room, and Ahsoka stepped through without a moment's hesitation. Anakin had said he'd left his datapad on the bedside table, so that's where I headed while Ahsoka looked around the living room.

I sighed heavily when I got into the bedroom and found it exactly where he'd said it'd be. Exactly where he'd left it last night, after we'd moved from the couch to the bed in a sleep-haze and watched a few short holos on it before passing out again. I tucked it into my bag, then headed back into the living room.

"Y/N! Look at this!"

I found Ahsoka standing just behind the couch in the living room, waving a t-shirt around in the air. A second later I had a heart attack as I realized it was mine, my favorite casual shirt, that I'd ditched last night in favor of stealing some of Anakin's clothes that also qualified as favorites.

I gave a noncommittal hm, trying to figure out how best to respond and not look incredibly, immediately suspicious, but Ahsoka quickly latched on to my initial response.

"Do you even know what this means?"

I tried not to let the irritation or panic show on my face. "Uh... Anakin's a mess?"

"No! There's no way this is his, he hates this band."

I swore, loudly, in my head. I was going to kill my boyfriend for forgetting his stupid datapad the next time I saw him.

"It means that Skyguy had somebody in here with him! Y/N, what if he's dating somebody?"

"Wow, Ahsoka, that's... wow."

"I wonder who it could be?" she said, talking to herself more than me. She turned away and started pacing the room, my t-shirt held tight in her hand. I tried to think of something, anything, to get out of this situation, but my mind kept drawing a blank. "I mean, who could he have brought into the temple without someone noticing? It's not like other Jedi make a habit of losing clothes in each other's rooms..."

I stood frozen in the doorway to the bedroom, using every ounce of strength and training I'd ever received to keep my expression neutral. There had to be a way out of this, some way to get Ahsoka to drop it and move on-

"Master Kenobi!"

My head snapped up, my heartbeat jumping to lightning speed at Ahsoka's words. Sure enough, Obi-Wan stood in the door with his hands on his hips, watching the two of us.

"What are the two of you doing in here?" he asked. "We're supposed to be leaving in a few minutes."

"Anakin... forgot his datapad..." I said weakly, holding up the object in question. He looked from that, to me and the obvious unease I must've been radiating through the force, to Ahsoka, still holding my shirt in the air. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I see that. And what do you have, young Padawan?"

"I found this shirt in here," she said, holding it out to him. "I think Master Skywalker might have been... with someone."

Obi-Wan walked over to Ahsoka and pretended to inspect the shirt, stroking his beard and giving a thoughtful 'hm'. The whole time, I focused all my energy on projecting the loudest "NO!" possible at him through the force. He must've heard it, but he was clearly ignoring it.

"Well, that's an easy answer. It belongs to Y/N."

The words were out of his mouth faster than I could stop him. I used the force to grab a pillow off of Anakin's bed and hurled it at Obi-Wan, which he annoyingly ducked. Ahsoka looked between the two of us, mouth open in shock.

"WHAT?"

"They've been dating for quite some time now."

Ahsoka whirled on me. "You and Skyguy told Obi-Wan and not me?"

"They didn't tell me," Obi-Wan continued, jumping in before my brain could unfreeze enough for an answer. I just stared between him and Ahsoka, mouth gaping like a fish. "They're just terrible at hiding it. I caught the two of them kissing behind a column in the Temple when we got back here a few weeks ago."

Ahsoka stared at Obi-Wan in shock, and he looked back, his arms crossed. I finally managed to shake myself out of it, the horror wearing off a little faster than when Obi-Wan had caught me and Anakin. I sighed, walking past both of my friends on my way to the door.

"We might not be as good at hiding it as we want to be, but the two of you are still the only two who know besides Padmé and the 501st, so... do us a favor and keep it to yourselves. And sorry we didn't tell you earlier, Soki."

I didn't miss the look Ahsoka and Obi-Wan exchanged as I passed them, instead choosing to ignore it. We were supposed to be leaving in ten minutes, after all, and now that I had Anakin's datapad there was no reason for me to wait around any longer.

"Do you want me to bring your shirt?"

I froze on the threshold at Ahsoka's question, grimacing. I didn't need to turn around to see Kenboi's smirk. I cleared my throat.

"Yes please, Ahsoka. Thank you."

"Sure thing."

Her tone was teasing, and I knew Anakin and I were going to be hearing about this almost nonstop from his young Padawan. I guess we'd deserve it, since we were apparently much worse at keeping secrets than we thought we were, but still. I wanted to get on board the ship with Anakin as soon as possible so I wouldn't have to take the brunt of the teasing alone.

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bloodmoonmuses · 1 month

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it waits for dawn | lee taeyong

requested by an anon! send me an ask!

genre: taeyong x reader, friends to lovers, summer coworkers, non-idol au, fluff sorta kinda :)))

wc: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of blood, some swearing

summary: while working your summer job, you meet an eclectic boy who's obsessed with stars and the beauty of the universe.

Working at the planetarium was an odd summer job, sure, but it was about the same pay as the ice cream shop or (God forbid) the zoo. The facility remained pretty empty most days, save for the occasional field trip or savvy tourist. For the first two weeks you worked there, it was just you and the manager, Taeil. Then, one day, Taeil says he finally found another lackey- some guy who just finished his undergrad.

You’re not sure why a college graduate would be slumming it at a planetarium, but you don’t question the matter any further. At least now you’d have someone to split responsibilities with.

“He’ll be here any minute,” Taeil tells you.

When he walks in, you’re a bit taken aback. His cotton candy hair and smattering of tattoos almost clashes with the nerdy polo and khakis he’s wearing. You assume this is his attempt at looking “professional”, which is funny because you’re in a band tee and cut-off shorts and Taeil is practically in pajamas.

“I’m Taeyong,” he says bashfully, dipping his head as a greeting.

You shake his outstretched hand and his ears turn red. He has the biggest eyes you’ve ever seen, like a drawing almost. The prevailing word at the front of your mind is “cute”. He’s very cute.

Taeyong is a sticker book come to life, eclectic and vibrant against the dullness of the overcast day. You’ve never seen him around before. You would’ve remembered. He must be new in town- or a figment of your imagination. A part of you wishes it’s the latter.

“I’m ____,” you say, fixated on your still conjoined hands. When Taeyong realizes he hasn’t broken away from the hand shake, he drops his arm quickly, coughing to fill the awkward silence. Taeil is none the wiser.

“If you could show him around the place, that’d be nice.” Taeil says nonchalantly. He walks back into his office, going to take his daily three hour nap. Taeyong looks at you confusedly.

“If you had any worry about this being a strenuous or uptight job-” Taeil’s snoring interjects, “-I can assure you, it is not.” you contend. “It’s like a movie theater, honestly. We run the projection presentations every other hour, and when there’s field trips, we walk the kiddos around for about 45 minutes or so.”

“Ah, really? That’s it, huh?” Taeyong looks a bit disappointed.

“Yeah. Pretty easy,” you say, shrugging. “Oh, and we stock the gift shop.”

—

The next day, Taeyong somehow manages to bomb his first real shift.. You’re shelving plushies in the gift shop when you hear a loud crashing sound. When you make your way to the supply room to see what happened, Taeyong is buried in a pile of commemorative cups on the floor.

“You okay?” you ask, trying not to laugh. The moon phase tumblers are the most popular of the gift shop items, constantly needing to be restocked.

“I think so,” he says. As you help him stand, you notice blood on his hand.

“Need a band-aid?” Taeyong’s eyes shimmer with tears, and he places his cut finger into his mouth, pouting a bit. He nods and you grab the first aid kit off the wall. It’s covered in a layer of dust from lack of use. You blow on its surface.

“How’d you cut your finger?” you ask, still giggling a bit.

“I tried to catch the box as it was falling.” He winces as the air hits his wound. “Ouch.”

You “tsk” at him, shaking your head as you open the first aid kit. “Taeyong, you gotta be more careful. Taeil doesn’t care if we live or die!”

He chuckles. “That’s not true! I think he has a soft spot for me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this cleaned up.” You take some alcohol and soak a cotton ball. Then, you clean his (minor) cut, unwrapping a bandage and securing it around his finger. He looks at you with wide eyes.

“Kiss it better for me?” he asks, jutting out his lower lip and extending his hand towards you.

“You wish.”

—

Taeyong and you become quick friends. If he comes in for a shift after you, he brings you ice cream. If the two of you close together, he walks you to your car. If you take a day off, Taeyong sends you pictures of Taeil sleeping.

He’s a great conversationalist as well. You learn a lot about him over the summer. He wanted to be a firefighter before falling in love with art, dancing and music. Now, he has a bachelor’s degree in visual art. He shows you videos of him dancing and lets you look through his sketchbook. He talks about his sister and how she’s just as kind as him. He tells you about his love of stars, and how he mediates on them as if they’re lost lovers.

Despite the warmth Taeyong’s eyes fill you with, there’s also an underlying sadness in them- stress beyond his years swimming beneath their sparkling glory. He doesn’t speak much of it, but you can feel it. You can also see that stress leaving his body everytime he cranks up the projector for the solar system presentation. His favorite planet is Saturn.

You’re quite fond of Taeyong. You realize this when you catch yourself staring at him on a particularly slow day. A few elderly couples have come to see the permanent exhibit in the front of the facility, but other than that, it’s just you and him here. Even Taeil has taken a day off, the sloth of summer’s near end seemingly blanketing the entire town. The day progresses in slow motion.

Taeyong’s sleeves are rolled up, exposing his arms. You study his tattoos, committing them to memory. His ever changing hair has been black for a few weeks now, which was a bit out of the ordinary for him. He looks a bit pedestrian, if that’s even possible, and not elven like his usually colorful hair makes him seem.

Despite the snail pace of the day, Taeyong is working way more than is actually necessary- always a self-starter and ready to please.

“Take a break, Taeyong. You’re gonna have a heat stroke.” The A/C unit is busted. Again. You’ve plugged in a few portable fans, but they’re not doing much.

“Inventory’s gotta get done eventually.” You’re enamored with the multitudes of Taeyong’s character. He’s often an easy going guy, but stern when it counts. Not a killjoy, or anything to that extent, just more upright than you’d assume at first glance. Such is the issue with assumptions; they’re just asking to be subverted.

You feel bad watching Taeyong lug around boxes by himself, so you push your laziness aside and begin helping.

“I got it,” Taeyong says.

You continue to lift a box, following him on the trek from the supply closet to the gift shop. “I know you’ve got it, but you’re gonna die if you carry all of these on your own.”

“I’m not gonna die,” Taeyong says, blowing a few strands of hair out his face as wobbles about.

“Tell that to the red flush covering your whole body, Superman.”

Taeyong huffs at you. “You’re so mean to me,” he says. There’s that lower lip again. It’s becoming your weakness, the more he pouts at you. Sometimes you tease him just to see it more often.

“Fine. Want me to stop?” you say, putting down the box you’re carrying. You pretend to walk off.

“No, don’t leave! I feel like I’m gonna die!” Tayong shrieks.

You deadpan at the cartoon of a human standing in front of you.

It’s a field trip day and the planetarium is packed. Unlike the usual, Taeil is actually helping, saying something along the lines of “all hands on deck” as if that doesn’t entail a total of six hands. The children stream in like a school of fish, neon summer camp shirts glowing in the bright sun. They’re beaming at one another, skipping and running around with boundless energy. Their liveliness sparks something in you, smiling so much that makes your cheeks hurt. What hurts more, however, is seeing how sweet Taeyong is with the kids. He takes the lead on showing them around the permanent exhibit, explaining the solar system and composition of stars and other space rocks. You watch from the back of the crowd, blaming the flush of your face on the temperature and not on the fact that Taeyong’s smile makes your breath hitch.

You should think he’s the nerdiest person in the world right now. This whole exchange would be great material to tease him with (-something about how he’s a softie and a loser or whatever). However, all you feel is a terrifying fondness taking over you, ripping at your chest as if it’d been ravaged by a lovesick wolf, its claw marks creating deep caverns where your heart lies. It fucking hurts how much you simply like him. You don’t even want to imagine- no, you can’t even imagine what’d it be like to fall in love with him.

One of the kids asks about Saturn and Taeyong nearly erupts with excitement. He talks in detail about its rings, tracing his fingers along the ridges of the replica of the planet. His eyes are sparkling, mirroring the faux stars above him.

When kids leave, you glance at Taeyong. A tired smile is plastered on his face and he contently sighs. “That was so much fun.”

“I’m not sure who enjoyed it more- you or the kids,” you state. Taeyong chuckles.

“Definitely me. I almost don’t wanna go home,” he says.

“Then let’s stay.”

After finishing your closing duties, you and Taeyong meet in the planetarium’s theater. In the center of the rows of seats is a projector.

“Lemme start the presentation,” he says, queuing up a video about Navajo astrology and constellations. “I’ve never actually gotten the chance to watch Southwestern Skies from the seats.”

After he presses play, the two of you sit right in the middle of the theater. The video comes to life on the dome shaped ceiling. Your jaw drops in wonderment, feeling less self conscious when you see that Taeyong’s mouth is also agape in your periphery. Then, you’re drifting in outer space with him, your seats floating away into the ether as you become completely absorbed into the stars that surround you. You rest your arm on the divider between your chairs, subconsciously inching your hand towards Taeyong’s. As it draws nearer, your desire to interlace his hand in your own grows. The nerve endings at your fingertips buzz. Taeyong is magnetic.

“This is my favorite part,” Taeyong whispers, awestruck. You try to break away from looking at him, to instead look at the display above you, but you can’t. Instead, you watch the stars in the reflection of his eyes.

The dome bursts with an explosion of stars as various constellations fade into view. Orion’s Belt, The Big Dipper, Libra and Virgo- Taeyong had told you about them in detail, insisting on thumbing through his astrology textbook as he explained. (He stole it from the library, leaving five bucks on the counter to rid himself of any lingering karma.) Finally, the Milky Way comes into view- referred to as It Waits for Dawn by the Navajo people. Taeyong audibly gasps.

“I think the whole thing is your favorite part," you tease.

“Mmm.” He nods in agreement.

Distantly, your mind wanders to how the summer is coming to a close. You’re not sure what will come of you and Taeyong’s friendship. You hope he won’t be a memory, or strangers like the two of you started as. You want him to be a fixture in your life- a constellation to familiarize yourself with and never tire of, even as the universe expands.

You realize you’ve been laying your head on Taeyong’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you move to sit up.

“It’s okay,” he says. Then, he places his hand on your head, guiding it back to his shoulder. “Unless your neck hurts, or something. Then, I won’t force you,” he adds hurriedly.

“No, no. It’s good. I’m good,” you say, returning your head to its original position. When the presentation ends, the lights in the theater automatically come up. Suddenly, the moment feels too intimate for daylight, and Taeyong must agree, because he’s tense. You can feel it in his shoulder, the anxiety radiating off of him in waves, but he doesn’t tell you to move, so you continue to rest your head on him

“Does the universe scare you? All the stars and planets and the unknown...” Taeyong says out of nowhere. Before you can respond, he says, “Ah, nevermind. Forget I asked.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as he backtracks.

“I like the question, silly!” You consider your answer for a moment, lost in thought. “ How infinite it is, yes. But the universe as a concept is very romantic. Like, philosophically speaking.”

“How so?”

You shrug. “It brought us together.”

“What a pretty thought,” he says.

Life’s a bunch of little universes sewn together. Self contained and finite worlds that exist within infinity. Like your summer with Taeyong- a blip in the grandeur of your life, simply due to how little time he’s spent in it. You want to sew a little bit more of him into your universe. To make him more than a blip. To make him your entire universe.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask suddenly, throwing caution to the wind.

“I’d like that,” he contends.

You lift your head from his shoulder and place a delicate peck to his cheek. Taeyong gently grasps your chin, guiding your face to his. He then kisses you on the lips, tenderly, his lips just barely grazing yours. The moment seems to stretch on for infinity, though only lasting a few minutes, and you make haste to sew it into the fabric of your memory.

a/n: unedited + feedback is always appreciated!

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong fic #taeyong fluff #nct 127 fic #lee taeyong #nct taeyong

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 9 months

Text

Imagine Prt 5

Was this all a dream?

“Wake up.”

Her eyes shot open and a blinding light almost burned through her retina like a magnifying glass to an ant. She shut her eyes tightly, opening them again only this time the light had been replaced with a face you’d love to wake up to every single day.

Only this face was the face of an unhinged, sadistic murderer with deep-seated obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. So, naturally, Y/N wanted to scream. She wanted to kick and scream. But for some reason, her throat felt as if she’d swallowed glass. Her limbs were bound to a flatbed with no support and it was bone-chilling cold.

Her dry tongue tried to bring moisture to her dehydrated lips but there was no use. The feeling began to over power her limbs. Why does it feel like she’d been running on rocks? She couldn’t wiggle her toes. Why is there cushioning lining the walls? Why is everything so stark white? Why does the door remind her of a prison?

Still trying to gain her motor skills, Y/N tried moving her head from left to right. She allowed her tired eyes to scan her body as best as she could. Thick leather restraints and rusty buckles kept her imprisoned to the bed. She could taste the fear on her tongue and it was far from pleasant.

“Hello, Y/N,” a smooth baritone filled her ears, “You’ve been out for a while now. Glad to have you back with us.”

She refused to speak. Who are they?

“You’ve created quite the ruckus this time around. Had I not saved you from what would have been your death, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

She could feel hot tears pricking her eyes.

“We had to put you out. Heavily sedate you. I usually don’t agree to this, but you somehow got your hands on a knife from the kitchens. Sadly, I couldn’t help you out of this one. Not when you almost killed me…”

The sound of his dress shoes click-clacked across the polished floor. He seemed to pace back and forth. Y/N kept her eyes on the padded wall. She thought she’d escaped his wrath. She wondered if her sister made it out safely. After everything April had gone through, she deserved to live. As for Y/N, she was the dumb bitch who fell in love with a psycho.

“Y/N? What are you thinking about?” He questioned with a patient voice.

She couldn’t find it in her to speak.

“One way or another, you’ll have to talk to me. Even if that means you’ll be tied to this bed.”

He approached her side with slow strides and reached out to stroke her hair back from her face. He then used his knuckle to wipe away her tears before quickly moving his hand away when he realized what he was doing.

“I care so much about your well-being because I have such a soft spot for you, Y/N. I know I shouldn’t say things like that…but I’ve grown fond of you as my patient.”

Patient?

Y/N turned her head quickly to look at him. To make sure she’d heard him exactly. She somehow missed the hospital band with the number 67 on it and her name.

“What?”

Her voice was cracking.

“What do you mean patient?”

Drinking him in, he’s wearing a white button down shirt, black slacks with a black belt, and polished black dress shoes. Gold-rimmed specs decorated his obsidian eyes and his hair is loc’d with a crisp tapered fade. A navy blue lanyard hung from his sturdy neck and a laminated badge attached to it. She studied the badge very closely.

Dr. N’Jadaka Stevens

She couldn’t believe it. This can’t be true. A Doctor?

He had a pleasant smile in the picture on the badge. It’s slightly faded and his hair was styled in a kinky fro.

“We’ve been through this many times before, Y/N,” He took a seat at the foot of the bed, “yes, you are a patient here at Gateway. You’ve been a patient here for over a year now.”

“Wha—no–this–no–no I–I’m not a patient.”

“Hm,” His eyes became sorrowful, “this is the deepest delusion episode you’ve had since being admitted.”

“Delusion?” Y/N squinted her eyes with confusion, “Are you trying to say I’m crazy?”

“No, no,” Erik shakes his head, “You suffer from delusional disorder. It’s what you’ve been diagnosed with.”

“I’m delusional?! Me?! After the way you’ve acted?!”

Erik adjusted his glasses as he stared at Y/N with no emotion.

“What is this? Another sick game of yours?! Where the fuck am I?!”

A hard knock to the door caused Y/N to jump.

“Everything is good,” He shouted towards the door.

A burly man turned his back away from the small panel of glass in the door.

“What is this place, Erik?”

“Gateway.”

“This where you keep all of your victims before you murder them?!” Y/N snapped.

He smirked, “No, Y/N, I’m not the psychopath you think I am. Maybe that’s how you see it in your altered reality, but I’m just your psychiatrist.”

Y/N laughed maniacally.

“Okay! You’ve won! Now let me go!!!”

He stood from the bed. Y/N began to kick and writhe. The bed was mounted to the floor with bolts specifically for this reason. She started becoming light headed from her dehydration and the urge to vomit overcame her.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” She screamed.

“You hate the fantasy you’ve created in your mind. To you, I’m Erik, The one that held you captive, kidnapped your sister, murdered her boyfriend, murdered your ex—”

“YOU DID ALL OF THOSE THINGS! So what is this?! Are you really some twisted doctor?! What are you going to do now, torture me until I beg you to kill me?!!!”

He turned his back on her. He removed his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. He couldn’t keep up with the amount of times this has happened. It always ends in this very room.

“But, would you even do it? Would you do it when I’m pregnant with your baby, Erik? If you kill me, you kill the one link to you. All of those lies about how you would never hurt me,” Y/N broke down crying between sentences, “You lied to me. You don’t love me, you don’t love anyone or anything. You’re not capable of love. All you know is death and heartbreak. You’re fucking crazy. You’re the one that should be tied to this bed, not me. I wish I never fucking met you.”

N’Jadaka shut his eyes slowly. Y/N’s words stung. He knew that she wasn’t well, but why did her made up world hurt his feelings so much? No one can see or know how that made him feel. He’d lose his job and never see her again.

“Y/N, I’m going to show you something,” He finally turned to look at her, his face expressionless, “This is your file. Your patient file. Everything within this manila folder is between you and I. It’s worn out because I’ve shown you this file many times before. This is the only solution to your episodes. Showing you proof that THIS is the reality you are in…”

N’Jadaka took long strides towards Y/N. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as if she were chasing her own breath. He opened the file and held it above her head so that she could read it. The first page was her information, including her diagnosis. Delusion Disorder. She squinted to focus and when the words seemed to connect, her eyes scanned the page. Her brows creased with worry and her lower lip trembled.

N’Jadaka flipped the page. Now, she was seeing her criminal profile. It was a crime of insanity. Not guilty by reason of insanity. Remaining confined to Gateway. A double homicide. Y/N’s eyelids fluttered and a fresh swell of tears rolled into her hairline. N’Jadaka couldn’t bear the look on her face each and every time.

“April…Darrell…no…no…I wouldn’t have…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N…”

“This—you made this up. You typed this up to make me look crazy—”

“You murdered your sister and your fiancé in cold blood. You can’t remember any of it because you were having an episode. You blacked out and woke up in handcuffs. This happened almost two years ago, Y/N.”

“No…”

“You’ve been admitted to Gateway Mental Hospital as an inmate and you were assigned to be my patient.”

“This…what is…no…”

She could feel the blood rushing to her head. Her eyes darted back and forth. Visions of blood and the sound of pleads and cries pierced her ears.

Slash!

Y/N no! Please, please, I’m so sorry!

Y/N!!!! Don’t do this!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

Slash!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Splatter splatter splatter

I—I’ll always love you…

_________________________

“Time to wake up.”

Y/N could hear a voice…a sonorous voice. She stood up on wobbling legs and covered her ears. Y/N stumbled and hit the padded white wall behind her. Only one light soaring high above her illuminated the room. She turned to press her face into the soft yet firm wall to hide her eyes. She felt like a vampire.

She woke up from a dream. She was caressing her pregnant belly while sitting on the beach in the sand. She was alone and there was a sunset. She couldn’t see the man that had her sitting between his legs with her head resting against his chest, but she could see his bloody hands with deep slashes palming her belly.

Both hands were covered in tattoos. It looked like a scripture with faded ink. Squeezing her eyes tightly, a sharp pain in her temple had her keeled over in pain. She was having a migraine. Y/N was exposed from behind, the curve of her nude cheeks and the smooth dip in her spine on display for whoever could see.

“Y/N, this is Dr. Stevens. I’m at the door. Please, don’t fight today.”

A loud buzzer sounded off and she leaped away from the padded wall. Dark circles beneath her eyes, Y/N studied the heavy door. It opened and in walked Dr. Stevens with a tray of food. Behind him were two men wearing all white from head to toe. They had disgusted looks on their faces. Maybe that was a disguise, because Y/N could see past the pure hate in their eyes and sense desire. She wanted to rip their eyes out and feed it to them.

There is a table next to her bed mounted to the floor and Dr. Stevens placed the tray of food there. Y/N cut her eyes to the tray to see what it was. Her stomach rumbled then.

“Turkey and cheese. Apple juice. And a fruit cup.”

Y/N slowly looked up at Dr. Stevens. He was dressed in another white button down shirt again but this time he wore khakis that hugged his tight ass and strapping thighs. Brown loafers on his feet and a gold Rolex completed the look. His gold-rimmed specs were in his shirt pocket again.

“You haven’t eaten in 24 hours,” N’Jadaka turned to the men, “Go ahead, unchain her.”

The two guards gave each other a look before they both approached her. One man yanked the long chain connected to the cuffs on her wrists while the other crouched down to take the ankle cuff off. Y/N looked down at him with a burning desire to knee him in the face. He could feel her staring, so he looked up and glared at her.

“Whatchu lookin at, girl?”

His face was red with anger.

“Stop looking up my gown.” Y/N warned him.

He chuckled darkly, “you wish I was looking up your gown you crazy bitch—”

“Watch your mouth,” N’Jadaka shoved the guard, “Time to go.”

The guard got into N’Jadaka’s face. N’Jadaka stared at him with amusement with his hands folded in front of him and his feet wide.

“You gon’ hit me? Do it. I can have your ass fired in a heartbeat. I know how much of a dirty mother fucker you are. Did you think I forgot?”

The guard's face turned purple.

“Now, I suggest you get out of here. And don’t let me find out you’ve been harassing the female patients again.” N’Jadaka said.

He twisted his lips and clenched his fists but instead of making matters worse for himself, he stormed off leaving the other guard behind. They shut the door with a slam and N’Jadaka looked to the ceiling to calm himself. Every day he has to remind himself that he is a professional and this isn’t the time or place to get into an altercation. He’d already been warned many times in the past and it almost cost his license.

“Sorry about that,” N’Jadaka exhaled slowly, “I can get a little…why don’t you sit down and eat, Y/N?”

She watched N’Jadaka sit on the bed.

“Come on, sit.”

Y/N finally took a seat in front of the table. She pulled the tray closer to her with her finger tips. Picking up the sandwich, she slowly took a bite and began mashing it with her teeth. She could feel her teeth chattering as if she were cold. Her leg bounced with nerves and she could feel tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Good?” N’Jadaka questioned.

Y/N simply nodded her head.

“Is today better than yesterday?”

Y/N wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. She swallowed her food down before speaking.

“What happened to my baby?”

N’Jadaka paused. He leaned forward onto his knees with his elbows before locking eyes with her again.

“…you’re baby never made it, Y/N. You had a miscarriage.”

Y/N touched her belly gently. Her fingers gripped the gown tightly. Now she was bent over wailing into her food. Her tears soaked the bread of her lunch meat sandwich. N’Jadaka watched her cry, his fingers itching to comfort her. Pull her into an embrace. But, he knew he was being watched. The only place he couldn’t be watched was his own office. But Y/N didn’t have outside privileges for another month.

“I—I just don’t understand any of this shit,” Y/N sniffled, “Why would I kill them? I loved my sister. I—”

“The knowledge of the affair broke you. What you didn’t know, and what your mother failed to tell you, was that your father suffered from the same thing. He had obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and he suffered from delusions. It got so bad that he jumped out of a window to his death. When you started showing signs of the same thing, your mother kept it from you. She felt ashamed to get you the help you needed.”

Y/N couldn’t tell her reality from fantasy anymore. She felt like she was living a lie.

“April and Darrell didn’t deserve what happened to them, but that doesn’t make you a bad person, Y/N. You’re just ill. I’m here to help you work through that. You’re one of the most difficult patients I’ve ever had but that’s what I love about my job. I will never give up. I’ll find a solution.”

Y/N fidgets with the hem of her gown. The hard metal chair beneath her naked butt made her feel numb. She badly wanted to see her sister. Not bloodied and slaughtered, but smiling and full of life. Memories of Darell made her aware of her delusions at times. She hadn’t met Erik at a poetry reading, it was Darrell. The home on the beach belonged to him as well but there was no glass chamber, sound proof walls, and cuffs to the bed. So why had she replaced Darrell with Dr. Stevens?

“I am a bad person. I killed my sister and my fiancé because I found out they’d been fucking. Cut off the engagement, sure, disown my sister, sure, but murder them in cold blood like I did?”

Y/N pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes to stop herself from crying.

“These cuts on my hands…are from the knife…I used to kill them…”

“Y/N. Breathe. Remember the exercise I taught you. Breathe in and hold for five seconds then release.”

Y/N did the exercise a few times.

“It must feel very frightening to have these nightmares. To have these delusions.” N’Jadaka said.

“…why do I keep seeing you in my delusions as the monster when I’m the monster?”

N’Jadaka stands to pace back and forth in front of her. This was something he did often.

“…Sometimes a person with delusions will treat others as though they are someone else. It’s a reaction to the delusions. It’s a type of delusion called persecutory delusion. It’s when you have a belief of harassment or persecution. It also plays into your OCP.”

Y/N clung onto every word.

“…you’ve somehow decided to see me as the villain because I represent your current life. Your life is confined to these walls,” N’Jadaka placed his hands in his pockets, “you see my face everyday. You speak to me everyday. It shows that you are trying to fight your way through your recent struggles, but also you’re…”

N’Jadaka halted his footsteps. He stopped speaking mid sentence and blinked his eyes rapidly, as if he were remembering where he was.

“I’m what?” Y/N questioned.

N’Jadaka looked over his shoulder at the door and then he glanced over at Y/N. He struggled with what he wanted to say, but ultimately, he decided to keep it to himself. For now.

“I think we can end this session for today. I’m going to discuss with the hire-ups about resuming your personal sessions. I feel that with many eyes on us, no matter if they can’t hear, it doesn’t make this personal. Private. Do you understand?”

Y/N stared at N’Jadaka with a bewildered expression.

“I’m sorry,” N’Jadaka glanced down at his watch, “I have to go for now, it was nice talking to you today.”

He walked away and knocked on the door. The loud buzzer sounded off again and the door opened. Dr. Stevens left without a backwards glance and the door shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone to her thoughts.

______________________

Curls tangled, nails cut short, and skin dry.

Y/N was in the showers for the first time in a long time. She’s now back in her old room that had normal walls, a softer bed, and better lighting. She has all of the things she enjoyed from puzzles, books, and stress balls to warm sheets. She returned to the circle room that reminded her of a large sunroom where she could do a myriad of activities and even play games with the other patients. All supervised of course. The soft carpet with colorful shapes would feel so good compared to the hard floors in her room and those cozy socks with the sticky bottom would keep her warm and cozy on colder nights.

She was able to comb her hair out, pull it into a messy bun, and she was able to apply lotion to her body. All supervised. Despite looking like the undead with dark circles under her eyes, Y/N felt better. She wondered if they would ever get tired of putting her away for a month in the padded room. She can’t control her delusions. They know this. Y/N walked into the circle room accompanied by two guards and found an empty table near a window. She said hello to some of the patients that she recognized and found herself a puzzle to complete.

Now that she was living her reality, she felt so alone. No family, no friends, no fiancé, no baby. She was going to die alone and crazy. She mustered the little strength left within her to fight back tears. The only person who understood her was Dr. Stevens and she hadn’t seen him in three days. He’s always patient and understanding with her, even when she’s accusing him of being a psycho. Y/N wouldn’t admit it to him, but there was a part of her that couldn’t stop reliving the delusions because she enjoyed the way he made her feel.

He was attentive, affectionate, and assertive. The sex was amazing. While she sorted through her puzzle pieces, the thought of sex with Dr. Stevens had Y/N squirming in her seat. He would never think of her that way. A murderer who’s crazy? Nah. He probably has a loving family of his own. Probably leaves this hospital every night to go home to a home cooked meal, a hot shower, and wet pussy. He probably kisses his children good night and tucks them in like the good daddy he is.

The way he defended her and the glint in his eye and the rasp of his voice turned her on something vicious. She’d have thrown herself at him if it wasn’t for her current predicament. She desperately wanted to know what he’d wanted to say to her. Where is he?

Y/N looked up to see the nurses entering. They were bringing around snacks and their second round of meds. Y/N rolled her brown eyes and returned to her puzzle. One of the nurses finally came around and Y/N never put up a fight. She accepted her lorna doone cookies and orange juice. She took her antipsychotics in front of the nurse and washed it down with a small cup of water. She would have to speak to Dr. Stevens about them upping her dosage.

Thirty minutes into her puzzle and loud thunder brought her attention to the window. All the other patients seemed to gravitate towards the windows as well. Y/N closed her eyes and imagined herself dancing in the rain. Gown soaked, the smell in the air, the breeze blowing her curls into her face.

“I enjoy a rainy day myself.”

Y/N turned to see Dr. Stevens. He’s wearing a black long sleeve fitted sweater and dark blue jeans with black dress boots. His badge is clipped to his hip this time and he replaced his gold-rimmed specs with Calvin Klein frames. It must be a casual Friday for the doctors today.

“Where have you been?” Y/N asked.

“I took some time off. Another puzzle?”

N’Jadaka made himself comfortable in the seat across from her. He picked up the box to see what the picture looked like since Y/N wasn’t finished.

“The Disney castle. Cinderella’s castle?”

“Yes…you took time off to do what?”

Dr.Stevens placed the box back down and cut his eyes to Y/N. She clenched her thighs shut.

“To see other patients. You’re not the only patient I treat, Y/N.”

Y/N tilted her head at him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Y/N leaned into the table with her elbows, making herself closer to Dr. Stevens.

“I thought that I was the most difficult patient you’ve ever had?”

N’Jadaka picked up a puzzle piece, “yes. But I have to put in time with other patients as well.”

“I don’t like it,” Y/N cleared the table and placed the puzzle box at the end of the table, “what if I have another episode? I almost killed you, remember?”

“Breathe,” Dr. Stevens spoke with a hushed tone, “After dinner you will resume sessions with me in my office. Don’t worry, we can talk for an entire two hours about anything.”

“…and you’ll tell me what you wanted to say the last time but couldn’t?”

N’Jadaka lowered his gaze to his hands and his mouth twitched slightly.

“Breathe,” Y/N smirked.

“I have to go. Finish your puzzle. It keeps you focused.”

N’Jadaka rose from his seat and took one final look at Y/N before walking away and out of the circle room.

__________________________

Y/N adjusted the oversized heather gray pullover she had on that matched the sweatpants covering her lower half. The guard that had the chain to her cuffs stopped in front of Dr. Stevens’ office door. He knocked twice and she became jittery. The guard, Anthony is his name, looked down at her with annoyance. Y/N couldn’t recall the last session she had with him in his office, but she were nervous. No cameras. Just him and her.

“Thank you.”

Released, Y/N walks into the office and Dr. Stevens shuts the door behind her. Everything about Dr. Stevens' office screamed welcoming. The soothing colors surrounding her promoted a sense of calm and relaxation. The artwork on the walls told Y/N a little something about him. Art of the African diaspora. As her eyes scanned the walls, she came across the tribal mask she’d seen many times in her delusions. The mask Erik had worn the night he gunned down the kind man behind the club.

Plants decorated window sills, comfortable seating whether on the floor or a chair, and nothing distracting and triggering crowded the space. It smelled clean, and it felt like home. Y/N took a seat on a tufted dark gray chaise and propped her legs up.

“Welcome back, Y/N.”

“Feels good to be back,” Y/N pulled on the sleeves of her sweater anxiously.

“How was your day?” N’Jadaka asked.

“Better than I thought. I didn’t have a nightmare last night.”

“Oh? That’s good to hear, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

“Ha,” Y/N shook her head bashfully, “don’t say things like that.”

“That I’m proud of you?” N’Jadaka questioned.

“What is there to be proud of?”

“You’re improving.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why’s that?”

“Why’s that?” Y/N echoed, “Well, I’m still having episodes.”

“Fewer episodes. You’re getting better.” N’Jadaka clarified.

“I’ll feel better when it stops.”

N’Jadaka crossed his arms over his chest.

“You keep having these delusions so frequently because something is triggering it.”

Y/N creases her brows.

“Elaborate.”

“Let’s see,” N’Jadaka rolled up his sleeves and took a seat in front of Y/N on an ottoman, “You have these delusions because you still haven’t forgiven yourself for what happened. You want to blame everyone else around you instead of accepting what happened as truth. That’s one part of it. Another part is…your desire for me.”

Y/N leisurely looked up at N’Jadaka. They stayed that way for a moment, just staring at each other, never turning away. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears and she took her sweater to wipe her eyes.

“Is it that obvious?” She said between sniffing, “Am I really that messed up?”

“I never implied that,” N’Jadaka smoothed his hands down his face, “Desiring me doesn’t make you messed up.”

“Why do you give a fuck?” Y/N sassed.

“I’m supposed to—I’m your doctor—”

“N’Jadaka,” Y/N spoke softly, “Tell me how to get over you.”

N’Jadaka nibbled on his bottom lip. He shook his head and stood up from the ottoman. Why was he struggling with this? Having feelings for your patient? That’s completely inappropriate.

He had to come up with a response that was the complete opposite of what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t want her to get over him. He desires her just as much as she does him.

“…I keep thinking about the way Erik made me feel,” Y/N was staring off into the corner, lost in her words, “He has his demons, and he is a sadistic person, but he did it all for me. I was his world. He loved me and made love to me. And while I’m having sex with Erik in my delusions, it’s your face that I see.”

“…I told you why that is, Y/N, and why you have to let go. Every bit of information I’ve given you isn’t to steer you wrong. I can’t begin to imagine the struggle—”

“Ain’t no breathing or meds or forgiveness gonna stop me from wanting you, Erik.”

N’Jadaka locked eyes with Y/N.

“I’m not Erik, my name is N’Jadaka. And you refer to me as Dr. Stevens.” N’Jadaka reminded her with a stern voice.

“How long will it take for you to admit your feelings for me? Hm?” Y/N threw her legs over the side of the chaise, standing up, “This back and forth is getting old. You said that we could talk about anything, right? Let’s talk about Erik.”

“Fine. Fine.”

N’Jadaka motioned for Y/N to have a seat. She didn’t recline back this time. Her back is ram-rod straight and she’s staring across at N’Jadaka like she wanted to eat him alive. He kept the connection going, watching her closely.

“I thought you said that you hated Erik?”

Y/N pondered.

“I hate the way he makes me feel. He makes me feel helpless and complete at the same time. It’s scary. Like…being here kind of does.”

“Helpless and complete. Helpless in the fact that you can’t do anything about being here and complete…I’m going to be honest, what exactly makes you feel complete about your life now?”

Y/N stroked hair out of her face, “when I’m by myself…in my head…I feel…I feel alone. When I’m with you…I feel better. The hole in my chest fills up again.”

N’Jadaka’s jaw clenched.

“Yes, you’re Erik in my delusions, but you’re Dr. Stevens in my reality. It keeps me balanced.”

_________________________________

When N’Jadaka had first laid eyes on Y/N, he could see how broken she was. He has all kinds of patients with many behavioral disorders. Sociopaths, PTSD, obsessive compulsions, phobias. And yet, when he’d seen Y/N and learned of what she’d done after reading her patient profile, N’Jakada could see that she was different. Her case of delusions was something beyond what N’Jadaka had ever imagined.

To Y/N, her psychiatrist knows her inner thoughts and feelings better than anyone. She can say anything to him and he doesn't judge her, but only seems to understand her better. She feels safe and comforted whenever she sees him. He knows just when to hand her a tissue when she's about to cry, and they share laughs together because her sense of humor is so like his. She finds herself looking forward to sessions and even wondering what to wear. She daydreams about him and wonders if he feels the same special connection to her. Perhaps she's become his favorite patient.

“…These are typical experiences of what occurs in many forms of psychotherapy that focus on exploring and understanding the patient's inner psychological life known as transference. It means that the patient is transferring feelings she has toward a parent or authority figure, onto the therapist…”

“…Erik is like an authority figure to you. He controls you. He keeps you handcuffed to his bed and you can never leave that beach house. He’s overprotective. Dominant. Unhinged. I’m hoping, Y/N, that you’ll gain some insight into your distortions onto other relationships in your life. With my help, you can come to grips with this pattern, put your distortions into perspective and move on with your life.”

N’Jadaka tapped the pin in his hand against his notepad. Y/N sat wringing her hands, a nervous energy surrounding her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t actually love N’Jadaka.

“I’m going to put you under,” N’Jadaka stood up and walked over to Y/N, “I want you to lay back and prop your feet up for me…good…now, close your eyes…that’s it…now, listen to the sound of my voice…”

Erik stood behind her while she reclined on the chaise. Her fingers are clasped over her abdomen and she looks like a sleeping beauty. He studied the contours of her beautiful features–more so her lips, and then he cleared his thoughts to speak.

“You’re at the luxury beach house. You can sense that the morning is approaching. As your eyes peel open, you scan the room and reality hits you. You’re cuffed to the bed once again…what have you done this time to upset Erik?”

Below him, Y/N’s breathing increases. Her face is contorted with fear and she brings her arms above her head to mimic the position that Erik has her in.

“You can hear him coming into the room from the bathroom…what does he look like to you?”

Y/N licks her lips, “He–he’s naked.”

“Naked?” N’Jadaka’s eyes drop down to stare at her, “why is he naked?”

“I…I can smell the YSL body oil he puts on after he showers. It’s sweet yet…woodsy.”

N’Jadaka uses YSL body oil. He makes a mental note of that detail.

“So he’s taken a shower? What happens next?”

Y/N’s eyelids move rapidly.

“He crawls on top of me..I scream…he covers my mouth…”

Y/N folds her lips into her mouth to mimic Erik’s hand covering her.

“He says…don’t scream…I won’t hurt you…I love you.”

“Do you believe him?” N’Jadaka questioned.

Y/N arched her back, thrusting her chest towards N’Jadaka. His eyes scan her body, wondering what is happening now.”

“What’s happening, Y/N? What is Erik doing to you?”

“H–he’s sucking my nipples.”

N’Jadaka arched a single brow, “So, you’re naked as well?”

“Yes,” Y/N exhaled, “He prefers me naked so that I’m ready for him.”

“Hm,” N’Jadaka grips the edge of the chaise, “Why do you keep giving into him?”

“Because he’s so addictive. No matter what he does…oh!”

N’Jadaka walks around the chaise, staring down at Y/N. He could feel his heart racing in his chest.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“Yessss,” Y/N raised her legs and spread them open, “Mmmm…just like that…”

“You seem to be enjoying Erik’s pleasures,” N’Jadaka didn’t move when her foot touched his chest.

“Erik…why do you make me feel the way you do?”

N’Jadaka parted his lips but no words came out. Y/N’s sock covered foot smoothed down his chest until it was on his crotch. N’Jadaka inhaled, his fists tightly clenched as Y/N started massaging his erection with her foot. He couldn’t believe how hard he was. She would use her toes to rub the print of his tip and then she would slowly drag her foot up his shaft. He could feel himself throbbing and it ached him.

“Time to wake up, Y/N.”

To his disappointment, her foot dropped, but the throbbing didn’t stop. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. N’Jadaka took a seat on the ottoman to try and hide his stiffness when Y/N sat up. Her curly hair was wild and the sweater she was wearing was hanging from her left shoulder.

“You want to remain in these delusions because of Erik. I…I think it’s because of me and…maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Y/N said.

“Maybe it’s best that I stop being your psychiatrist. I feel that I am a trigger for you.”

Y/N was taken aback.

“Where the fuck is this even coming from?” Y/N argues.

“Watch your language,” N’Jadaka stood up, “I want you to get better. In order to do that, I have to make this sacrifice. I don’t want to—”

“Then don’t.”

N’Jadaka looked at her, “It would be for the best—”

“For you? Or for me? Who are we really talking about right now?”

N’Jadaka sighed, “For the both of us.”

“Explain!” Y/N commanded.

“Lower…your…voice.”

N’Jadaka turned his back on her. The silence between them stretched on but the storm raging outside matched their inner turmoil.

“Or what?”

N’Jadaka placed his pad and pen on his desk. Y/N’s eyes scanned from his sturdy back all the way down to his legs. His arms are covered in bulging veins from his fists being clenched.

“This stays between me and you.”

He turns, removing his glasses. He didn’t look away from her as he folded his frames before placing them on the desk. Y/N held her breath.

“I’ve grown to have feelings for you, Y/N. Feelings that I know I shouldn’t have. I try every time to–to be professional when it comes to you…but I can’t. I’ve become obsessed.”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“…And I know that I shouldn’t. Which is why we have to stop these sessions. There is another great psychiatrist here, Dr. Jane—”

“No. I refuse to see that bitch.”

“You know who she is?”

“Yeah, and I don’t like her. I like you. So no. You’ll just have to fight the urges.”

N’Jadaka stroked his chin, “And will you?”

Y/N turned away from him and looked out of the window.

“You have to make me that promise, Y/N.”

“That’s the thing,” Y/N stood and made her way towards Dr. Stevens, “I don’t want to…”

“Then we can’t do this,” N’Jadaka looked down on her with his arms folded, “You know what happens if they find out? I lose my job. My practice. I will never get to see you again. You’ll never get better.”

Y/N looked up at N’Jadaka through her lashes, “No one has to know…”

N’Jadaka chuckles. Those dimples she loved appeared in his cheeks.

“Easier said than done—Y/N, what are you doing?”

She’s on her knees in front of him now. N’Jadaka doesn’t make any attempts to stop her despite his words.

“Get up, now. I don’t want to have to pick you up myself.” He warned her.

“I like how demanding you can be,” She smirked.

He fought the urge to smirk and Y/N giggled.

“I plan to be here for the rest of my life, N’Jadaka.”

“Fifteen years isn’t the rest of your life.”

“That’s if I’m being good,” Y/N traces N’Jadaka’s solid girth with her finger, “and I don’t want to be good…and I think you like it when I’m bad, right?”

N’Jadaka grunts.

“Stop doing that.” He spoke darkly.

“Or…what?” Y/N challenged.

_____________________________

Somehow his pants found their way down to his ankles. His briefs were there too.

The tightest mouth was practically inhaling his dick. Tip to base. He couldn’t believe it. Not what he was doing, but how impressive it is that she could fit him all the way down her throat. That shocked him more than her sucking his dick like those popsicles on a hot summer day.

He was unbelievably hard. Each pass of her soft lips, wet tongue, and tight throat had him groaning. He lost all control and gripped her by her curly hair, guiding her. His hips started pumping as she was sucking and he imagined himself bending her over doing the same to her pussy.

This was madness. How long before he comes to his senses?

“Fuuck,” N’Jadaka spoke with a low register, “Suck that fuckin’ dick…”

He couldn’t hold back. Professionalism where?

He twitched in her mouth when she started slowly sucking on his top. He could feel his balls tighten.

“Y/N…that’s it…you’re such a bad girl…”

“…such a bad girl…yes…suck this dick like you would suck Erik’s dick…mhm…all the way down…that’s it…mhmmmm…”

She was back to doing it with no hands. N’Jadaka was staring at her with knitted brows and his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Does Erik make you swallow?” He questioned with a whisper.

Y/N nods her head.

“You better swallow every fucking drop of my cum, Y/N.”

Stroking him, she started sucking on his sack.

“I bet that pussy is so wet…”

She popped her mouth off, “It is…for you.”

“I can’t wait to see it for myself.”

She ran her tongue up the length of his shaft and back down to his balls. She twisted his length at the base of his tip and N’Jadaka could feel pre-cum oozing from his slit to prepare for his release.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…that perfect ass…that pretty mouth…those eyes…I beat my dick to you in bed at night…”

“I play in my pussy at night because of you, Doctor,” Y/N looked up at him while stroking him, “and I can show you just how I do that anytime you want…”

“You’re such a freak…”

“And so are you,” Y/N smiled, “This dick is so fat..”

“Stop playing with it and suck it.”

Y/N alternates between sucking his tip and balls. It was the way she took care of him that had him lost for words. All he could do was grunt and moan. Tongue on the underside of his length, N’Jadaka groaned and the sound was deep and sultry. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he coached her to bring him to climax. Over and over she would bring him closer and closer.

N’Jadaka wasn’t prepared for the way his body seized all control. It hit him so suddenly. He quickly grabbed Y/N by the hair and shoved his hard dick into her mouth. He took control and pumped her mouth like a mad man. Spit flying and her gags filling the room, N’Jadaka spurt deep down her throat. His hips stuttered out of control the more she emptied him.

“Look what you made me do.”

His saliva covered dick bounced in her face. The thinnest stream of cum dropped from his tip and Y/N used her tongue to clean him off.

“Get up. We only have fifteen minutes left.”

N’Jadaka stepped out of his pants and took off his shirt. Y/N couldn’t believe how identical his body is to Erik’s. Muscles covered his entire frame. He had a thickness to him that screamed pick me up and toss me around.

He did just that.

N’Jadaka laid her down on the chair and started undressing her. She helped him so things could move along quicker. He climbed between her legs and took a nipple into his mouth. Y/N moaned softly, this feeling so foreign to her. She couldn’t recall the last time in reality that she had her nipples sucked on. To see this fine ass man do it and WANT to do it had her lost for words.

“That feels so good…please don’t stop, N’Jadaka.”

Y/N pressed her nose into his neck and inhaled his scent. He was warm to the touch and soft yet sturdy.

N’Jadaka popped a nipple out of his mouth, “I want that pussy in my mouth…”

Y/N shoved his head down between her legs. His teeth dragged over the skin of her abdomen before finding the mass of curls between her legs. That turned him on even more. Frustratingly, N’Jadaka positioned Y/N so that she was slightly on her side with one leg elevated and the other bent out of the way. He got down on his knees and spread her outer lips with his tongue.

“Ooooh, shit,” Y/N’s thighs shook out of control, “Dr. Stevens…”

With a fist full of his locs, she rode the pleasure. He had his entire face buried between her hairy pussy lips and he didn’t give a fuck. All she could see was his nose pressed into her mound and his eyes shut. He was making all kinds of sounds down there like some primal animal. That tongue and those plump lips were working overtime to make her cum. Whenever she would move her legs, he would force them back. His hands were firm and at times it hurt the way he was holding her legs. His tongue was unrelenting. His lips were lapping her up as if it were his last supper.

“Unh, fuck,” Y/N couldn’t say much else. He had spit dripping from her pussy. He had her clit swollen and sensitive. He was doing things with his mouth that she never felt before. Tongue in her pussy? Never. He had her muttering incoherent words when he used the tip of his tongue to flick her clit.

When he started sucking on her clit, Y/N had to cover her mouth to keep quiet. He opened his eyes then and watched her closely. It was an unspoken command to shut the fuck up and take it. What good will it do to make it known that he was eating her pussy? If she made a sound, it would mean no more of this in the future. Y/N couldn’t have that. Dr. Stevens couldn’t have that.

She couldn’t explain the way he was sucking on her inner folds. No words could describe it. He did it like he waited his entire life for this moment. The desire he felt for her resonates with the way his lips suckled her expertly. She could hear the raunchy sounds and to her shock he even dragged his tongue through her wet curls.

Y/N bites down on her lip, drawing blood, fighting with all her might to not moan out loud. When he started sucking all over her pussy with his hands on the back of her knees, leaving not one spot untouched, Y/N’s mouth dropped open and her eyes crossed. Toes curling, thighs shaking, body convulsing, she came in his mouth. The hold she had on his locs was enough to scalp him.

N’Jadaka finally came up for air. His heavy breathing and wet beard turned her on so badly.

“We only have eight minutes…”

He didn’t waste time picking her up and carrying her over to his desk. He pushed all of his belongings out of the way with a rush and sat her on the edge of his desk. She let him move her body in whatever position he wanted her in. He decided on holding her by her ankles up in the air and whispered in her ear to hold on.

“Keep still, Y/N. When I put this dick in you…you better not make a sound, understand?”

Y/N nodded her head and N’Jadaka wasted no time sinking deep inside of her. His eyes shot up to give her a warning look to keep quiet but how could she when he thrust inside of her like that? She wasn’t prepared. It’s one thing to have delusions about the dick, but to feel it in reality? He stretched her good.

N’Jadaka for a moment couldn’t believe how tight she was. He began snapping his hips into hers, wanting to feel it again, watching the way his dick would enter her. There was a lot of wetness down there. He almost slipped out a few times. Y/N had to hold his waist with one hand. His locs fell into his eyes and it reminded her of Erik. The way he stroked her reminded her of Erik.

“I wish I could take you home with me,” He whispered between strokes.

“So you can do what?” Y/N asked with a seductive tone.

“So I can put you like this and in any other position I want.”

“You love this fucking pussy?”

“Yes,” N’Jadaka pressed forward and held his dick there, “I don’t have to ask if you love this dick, I can tell…look at all this mess.”

Y/N’s eyes fell to the creamy mess all over him.

“Didn’t know that pussy could do that, huh?” He whispered.

Y/N’s mouth fell open but no sound came out. Tears fell down her cheeks because of his words and because he was hitting her spot. He picked her up and dropped her down onto his dick. She let him take control of her body. She was so small compared to him.

“Daddy, I can’t take it like this,” Y/N said.

“I’m daddy now? You’re gonna take it like a good girl.”

Y/N felt as if she was ready to burst, “Wait—”

“You pushing?” He looked down, “Don’t squirt…”

She didn’t listen. Thankfully it wasn’t a lot.

“You don’t listen, Y/N.”

N’Jadaka pressed her back against the desk and he was practically on top of her, dropping ten inches deep. She gasped, unable to control the liquid that followed. At this point N’Jadaka didn’t care. He was close. She felt amazing. What did he get himself into?

“This my fucking pussy…”

She didn’t argue that.

“Don’t look away from me,” He commanded, “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

Y/N was in a trance staring up at him. Her body jerked beneath him and as her back arched, she came all over him, making even more of a mess.

“Ahhhh, yes,” He withdrew his hips and came all over her stomach, “Hmmmm…”

N’Jadaka bit down on her shoulder. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted to stay like this. With his cum sticking to her flesh and his still hard dick resting between the lips of her pussy.

“We have to get dressed…”

Reluctantly, he peeled himself from her embrace. He helped Y/N down from the table and she rushed to get her clothes on. They were all dressed in time for Anthony to come knocking on the door. One last look at Y/N and N’Jadaka grabbed her by the face to kiss her. He hadn’t kissed her the entire time.

He broke the kiss, “Give us a second.”

His tongue slithered into her mouth and they kissed like that for what felt like five minutes.

“Alright,” he pulled away after she sucked on his bottom lip, “You have to get back to your room. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Y/N pressed her face into his chest to remember his scent.

“I’m looking forward to it, Dr. Stevens.”

N’Jadaka grabbed her by the hand and squeezed while his other hand tapped her on the ass. He walked her to the door and finally let go of her hand. Opening the door, Anthony was waiting patiently with her cuffs. She fought hard not to look back at him because it would give too much away.

“Same time, after dinner.”

Anthony started making his way down the hall pulling Y/N along, reminding her that she was imprisoned to this place.

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @daddiespamm @lisayourworries @bellleame @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @1lavender-menace @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @washillary @bakarisprincess @melodicheauxxlovesfood @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @90sisthenew80s @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @honeyandpeaches10 @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @angelicniah @queenfaithmarie @soulfulbeauty19 @asweet-serendipity @kartierkitten @iamching07 @ladymac82 @bbygirlwiththatass @cydneyloo @sexysativa605 @chrisevans-world @aijha @novaniskye @princessxotwod @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @neesiewrote @kenbieee @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @richgirlaesthetics @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @beautybyfire @abluesforlyssa @xo-goldengirl @mbakuetshurisprincess @4ftwonder @raysunshine78 @sensitivelegend @sourbabynaee @gotbeefbitch-blog @joonswan @cool-fancyone @efonteno @akimi-youngblood @badassdoll @shyblackgurl @childishgambinaax @teheeboo @skylahb @gigafaex @readingaddict1290 @circeaphoenix @xsweetdellzx @carewornblackgirl @queengodiva619 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @seyven89 @jamaicanqueenaa @soufcakmistress @eyeknowmywrites

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger smut #crazyerik

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 8 months

Note

HEEYYY MY LOVE!! OK SO, I HOPE IM NOT GIVING U TOO MANY REQUESTS IN A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME 😭😭 CAN I GET THE WHOLE BAND (separate obvs) X MALE READER WHERE -I HOPE THIS DOESNT SOUND GOOFY ASF 💀- WHERE READERS, LIKE, OBSESSED WITH PHYSICAL TOUCH AND YK WHERE WHEN U HUG SOMEONE THEY KEEP SHUFFLING AND NUZZLING CLOSER TO YOU SO IT FEELS LIKE THEYRE TRYNA CLIMB INSIDE OF U (not like that u goofy goober 🤭🤭)??YEAH CAN I GET IT WHERE READER DOES THAT. LY BBG. (I ACTUALLY DO NOT REMEMBER IF I ALREADY REQUESTED THIS HELP)

(Hell yeah! I do this all the time to people I'm comfy with and I love it)

Touch!Obsessed!Male!Reader

Bill Kaulitz

Bill fucking loves this shit

You may not know why you do it but Bill is so happy you do

He's shuffling and nuzzling even closer to you

Oh my god he's so happy

He feels so safe and everything

He doesn't care why you do it

He just knows you do

And you find comfort in it so I think he loves that as well

The first time you did he was probably confused but baby boy just rolled with it the whole time

He was pleasantly surprised

Even if you did it when you guys were just friends

He craves this shit all the time

He wants to be in your skin and much as you wanna be in his

Tom Kaulitz

Tom is so smug when you do this stuff

"You wanna be by me so bad, huh?"

He's teasing the whole time with saying stuff like that

He may act like he doesn't want or like it at times but the second you pull away he wants it back

When you go to long without touching him he gets confused

He actually thinks you're mad at him or something

Please, please, please come up and surprise him with it

Especially on the bad days because this stuff can calm him down so quickly

Boy will snatch you up the second you do it and he will keep craving it

He gets so used to it that it's now apart of his daily routine

He calls it his daily hug time

Sometimes he'll just go up to you and hold open his arms as an invite

Take it

Gustav Schäfer

Gustav was so surprised the first few times

He didn't get why you were so obsessed with touch for a while

He then just came to the conclusion you just wanted to be with him

And babe he loves that so much

He feels so happy when you come up and just wanna hug him

He's the type to never let you and hug keep running his hand over you the same amount as you do to him

Sometimes he'll just be laying in bed and you'll come in and lay on him

So much so you'll wanna be inside his skin

He openly invited it

Sometimes he'll just be having a bad day and the second a hug comes out he forgets about his day

Especially if you do this when you know he's having a hard time, frustrated or when he's feeling nervous or disappointed

The hugs lift his spirit in ways he cannot describe

He's just so in love it's corny

Georg Listing

This man was actually one to be like

"Why?"

I don't feel he's very, very open with touch especially if you do it in public

He likes the touch he just doesn't get why you are obsessed with it

But soon enough he just becomes as equally obsessed

He doesn't know how he could be so obsessed with touching you until you showed him how comfortable you are touching him

Your so bold and so open with your love and touch he couldn't help but reciprocate it

Especially the hugs

Hell want a hug like that from you around the homophobes just to run it in their faces

Also at times he is very tired and wants affection

He is craving that hug

He is dreaming about that touch all day until he gets it from you

Makes him feel oddly safe and loved?

He also is one that can't describe it but once he feels it it's over and he loves it

He is drunk on it I swear

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan @lyzit @trixiekaulitz @laylasbunbunny @5hyslv7 @limaswife

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butyou-callmewhenyourebored · 10 months

Text

Ross MacDonald Imagine

Summary: In which you and Ross have always been in love and the boys are just waiting for the two of you to realise. Loosely based off the prompt “Did you really think we didn’t know you two were together.”

Warnings: Swearing, a bit of vulgar language. Insinuating towards sexual themes in parts. Tiny bit of actual smut somewhere in there. minors dni Mentions of an actual name near the end to avoid the use of y/n you guys will just have to deal with it or imagine your own name yourselves.

Author's Note: I know this has taken me for fucking ever to finish. But you will be delighted to know or maybe not if you think it's shit. But this fic is over 18K words. I'm so in love with this man it is very easy to write for him. So enjoy! x

p.s if you guys could help think of a title for this little number that would be great!

Word Count: 18.5K

Growing up with international pop stars always sounds great from an outside perspective until you see them once in a blue moon. Sure it’s all glamorous parties, fancy events and VIP passes when they’re in town but honestly you’d rather just be on the sofa in your house with your best friends. Too many bodies, not enough space for bums and being all up in each other’s personal space whilst you nurse the hangovers you know you’re all too old to be having at your big age. But that wasn’t the case when your best friends toured the world two years at a time before they even got chance to come home and invade your space for a measly few hours, a couple of days at the most before they ventured off back to the rest of their lives.

You couldn’t really remember life without the boys. Having grown up with them in Cheshire, you had all gone to the same school and you were in the same year as Matty and Ross so you had pretty much gone your entire life with them in at this point. A lot of your friends from school had come and gone but the five of you collectively had weathered everything together. You loved the four of them so much, they were apart of your very being and the fact you didn’t see them nearly as much as you would ever like, hurts your soul too much to handle.

You of course in your own line of work were successful; both of your careers crossing paths due to Matty’s request and what Matthew wants, Matthews gets! Not that you’d ever say no him, which will probably be your downfall at some point. Whilst they were off becoming the best band in the world and building their fanbase, you were excelling in your chosen career path within styling, specifically mens grooming. And after a little bit of a drunken ramble from Matthew after your career highlight of grooming the Arctic Monkeys’ for their AM era, he asked you to come to LA to help kickstart their ilwys era because let’s be honest there was no styling during self titled whatsoever!

If you thought travelling the world with the Arctic Monkeys was your career highlight, Matty pretty damn made sure that the 75 were your only favourite northerners after that. Which was cute if you didn’t know the boy like the back of your hand, that and the fact Hann had let it slip over a brew one day that he was jealous of the Yorkshire men for “stealing you away!” There was no secrets between you and the lads, you guys were as close as friends could be. You were family.

You and Ross had always been naturally drawn to one another; especially as the band grew at rapid speed, you centred the boys, always there with a home truth to humble them when their head’s got too big. Not that Ross ever needed humbling, but you quickly became his (thier) piece of home when he (they) missed the simplicity and quietness of Cheshire whilst they was on the other side of the world. But then you also both became each other’s person when in a crowded room. Your eyes meeting and automatically knowing what the other needed; if that was another drink, a dance or to be saved from the chaos of the crowds of people or an escape plan. You had each other’s back, always.

You weren’t entirely sure when you and Ross fell in love with one another but to quote John Greene “It was like falling asleep; slowly and then all at once.”

2013

The boys had finally released their debut album and the five of you were currently sat in the boys’ tiny shared flat as you waited to see where they had charted. The countdown was on and they were quickly itching towards the top three on the album charts. There was a bottle of champagne you had bought waiting on the coffee table, the small static radio playing in the corner on the shelf above the tv. Radio 1’s album chart show recapping the rest of the top ten had you squeezing both Ross and Matty’s hands tightly as you waited in anticipation.

“And coming in at number two this week is a new entry from Nine Inch Nails with Hesitation Marks which means debuting at number one this week is The 1975 with their debut self titled album!”

The choked out gasp/squeal that came out of your mouth was quickly over powered by the sheer noise of the screams from the boys who were now jumping around their living room in celebration. Pulling your hands from your face, where they were covering your mouth in shock; Ross pulled you up from the sofa and instantly wrapping you up in his arms before spinning you round in what little room they had in the living room to begin with as you squealed in excitement.

Before you could really soak up what was happening; Matty was pulling you out of Ross’ arms and jumping on you like a toddler on a sugar high before pressing his lips against yours with pure adrenaline! Just about catching the two of you, Ross held on to your shoulders to make sure you both didn’t end up on the floor as you started cackling at their lead singer’s behaviour before he headed off to hug the others.

You couldn’t breath as Matty squeezed you tightly. A soft giddy chant of “We did it! We did it! We did it!” In your ear as he jumped in your arms.

“You did it!” You confirmed with a grin; holding him by the shoulders so you could see his face properly, your eyes glimmering as tears of pure pride and happiness threatened to spill. Pure elation etched across his face as he pulled you into him again.

“Dude! Stop hogging her! It’s my turn!” George came bumbling past everything in his way and ripping you from his grasp and into his own.

Jumping into the drummers arms; you clung on like a koala as you hugged him tightly, a singular arm reaching out behind you, you made a grabbing gesture towards the guitarist. Adam immediately wrapped his hand up in yours and pulled himself towards the pair of you, trapping you between the pair. Catching a glimpse of you sandwiched between his mates, Matty instantly made his way towards you, Ross hot on his heels to join you in a group hug.

“I’m so fucking proud of you. This just proves that all your hard work has finally paid off and everything that I’ve thought about you four is true. The rest of the country is just finally catching up!” Your eyes flitted between your four boys that you were currently sandwiched between, bright smiles reaching all of their eyes as they stared back at you warmly. “Okay stop! Or I will start fucking crying and we haven’t even started drinking yet!” You cackled loudly. “Speaking of… I think it’s time to open that bottle, don’t you think?”

“Matthew. The honours!” You smirked.

Jumping out of your personal space and into action, the boys all gave you a little breathing room as you jumped down from George’s arms, just as Matty snatched the bottle of Champagne off the coffee table and giddily ripping off the protective wrapping. Shaking the bottle as he popped the cork, the bubbly starting to spray over you all as he continued to shake it in celebration.

“All right that’s enough! That was expensive! I’d like to have at least one glass you twat!” You scorned before reaching for mix match wine glasses the boys had acquired over their time in the flat.

Two wine glasses, one champagne flute, a tumbler and a ‘worlds best dad mug’ which you weren’t entirely sure where it had come from to be honest but the assortment of drinking attire made you grin and it was so quintessentially them that you didn’t care that one of you was about to drink champagne from a chipped mug to celebrate their album going to number one. You just made a mental note to buy them a set for when their second went to number one instead!

It was several hours later and the group of you were severely drunk, the boys stoned after passing round a joint as you celebrated the boys getting to number one with their debut. You knew that the record label would throw them a bigger fancier party another time but you couldn’t think of anything more perfect than getting pissed in the flat with them.

You were currently deep in a heated discussion with Matty about his love for you and how he hates that you’ve already been stolen away from them. You felt like it was useless to try argue with a pissed Matty but as he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer so he could really get into the topic. If you weren’t as pissed as you were, you probably would have laughed at his persistence.

“Babe.” Matty’s whine; actually caused the smirk to spread across your face. “You’re going to leave again and that stupid handsome bastard is going to knock us off the top spot and then you’re going to be swanning round the world with them when you should be with us.”

“Matty love.” You grabbed onto the hand that was resting on top of your thigh. “I couldn’t give a shit if they get number one next week.” You reached up to grab hold of his face when he grumbled into his wine glass. “What I care about is the fact you just got a number one debut album! I am so fucking proud of each and every one of you because you deserve every bit of praise that you’re going to get from this because you’re so fucking talented.”

You turned round to face the other three boys. “You have worked your arses off for the past ten years to get to this moment. And your debut album is the number one album in the country! Do you understand how insane that is! My best friends have a number one album. That’s mental!” You then reached behind you, blindly grabbing onto Ross. “If they get number one next week? Cool. It’s just another number one to them, they probs won’t even care as much as they did the first time. But you could be number one for three weeks or you could have charted at number eight tonight and I would still have been just as proud as I am right now. Do you understand me?” Your voice firm as you looked Matty directly in the eye, his lip quivering a little as he nodded at your praise.

“Good. Now go get the shots in before I fucking cry again!”

Shoving your legs off of him, Matty rushed into the kitchen to grab something to pour whatever liquor he could find into so you could carry on celebrating. This was the thing, you hadn’t been working with the Monkeys very long but with their established career you’ve noticed that the events you’ve been invited to since you had been with them were all big industry parties where they had to talk to the big wigs and fake interest in everything everyone had to say. There was always work chat happening around you, cameras flashing and people in overly expensive outfits. Nothing was an intimate affair.

You’d rather do this. Passing a joint around the living room, getting wine drunk and curled up against your best friend (any of them will do) but it was currently the bassist who’s hands were rubbing circles against the top of your thigh, your legs draped over his as you conversed in whispers as the tiredness started to seep into your bones.

You could see it in his eyes too, yours flashing towards the clock on the fireplace. The hands striking 02:10, the realisation making the yawn press its way out of you and setting off a rippling effect as you watched Ross and then Hann yawn too. Snuggling further into Ross’ side, your head on his shoulder. You pressed a sleepy kiss to the crook between his neck and collarbone, mumbling the words “So proud of you.” Against his skin.

You felt a kiss pressed to the top of your head as he whispered; “So I’ve heard. Thanks sweetheart means a lot.” Before he announced he was taking you to bed to the rest of the boys and sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to his room where you fell asleep next to him but woke up warmly in his arms.

2015

Since the release of their debut album; your boys had been on a world tour and away from you way too long! You had also been travelling the world with the Monkey’s and experiencing tour life yourself and as much as you loved the Yorkshire men and the time you had spent with them since meeting them in early 2013. You really did miss your best friends and the moment the five of you had both finished your respective tours, you wanted nothing more than to be with them and be needy as fuck by not leaving their side until they physically had to prise you off them but luck wasn’t on your side.

It felt like that it was never going to happen when the boys were off on holiday and going straight into the studio as soon as tour was over for them. FaceTiming the boys with the time difference was always awkward and it wasn’t the same. Until Matty called you asking (read begging) you to come work with them as they started on their new album campaign. Your suitcase was packed quicker than you could say ‘The 1975’ you were now stood in the departure lounge ready to head to Los Angeles to see the boys. You looked down to see your phone was ringing once more for the fourth time that day. Matty’s face flashing up on your screen. Again.

“Matthew.” You sighed, pressing your phone to your ear.

“You’re still coming aren’t you? Please say you’re coming?” Matty started rambling as you moved further down the queue, literally heading towards the plane as you struggled to get a word in edge ways.

“Matty love. I’m literally getting on the plane right now. Calm down. You’re going to see me in eight hours and then you can annoy me all you want in person.”

“I won’t annoy you I promise. I’m just anxious and I really want you here.”

“Sweetheart. I actually encourage you to be annoying. I’ve missed you. All of you so so much. I can’t wait to be annoyed by you.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.” Matty sighed out a relieved laugh.

“Hmmm. I’m sure I will but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Look I really have to go. I’ll see you soon okay.”

“Okay. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too dickhead!” You laughed; passing the crew member your passport and ticket before heading down the tunnel, ready to be reunited with your boys.

When you touched down in the city of Los Angeles; the crowds of people and seemingly paparazzi that were swimming around LAX was giving you anxiety and sending your stress levels through the roof but when you saw Jamie stood holding a sign that had your childhood nickname ‘Mouse’ scrawled in Matty’s messy penmanship your heartbeat slowed down again as you quickened the pace, embracing the man in front of you.

“Boys wanted to come. Especially Matty but I didn’t want him to cause a scene. Thought you might not appreciate it after a long flight.”

“Thanks. As much as I love them, I’d rather not smell like plane when I see them too!” You let out a laugh as you both made your way out of the airport, your bigger suitcase in Jamie’s hand whilst you wheeled your smaller one towards the car.

Upon jumping in the back; you barely had any time to collect yourself or close the door before you were being attacked. Securely trapped underneath the body of whoever was already in the car, you spared a glance up at them once you had collected your breathing after your unsuspected heart attack to find Matty grinning down at you. Mirroring his grin; a cackle erupted from your chest as his curls tickled you as he repeated pressed kisses all over your face like an over excited puppy.

“Okay that’s enough. Jesus!” You finally managed to push him off you with a laugh just as Jamie jumped in the front.

“Buckle in kids! Not setting off until belts are on. No accidents on my watch!”

“Yes Dad!” The pair of you replied in sync. You and your curly haired best mate shared a side eyed glance before bursting into giggles as Jamie pulled out of the airport car park with a shake of his head, just as he launched into explaining that the boys refused to let you stay in a hotel so he was dropping you off at their rented house and he’d let the boys explain sleeping arrangements etc once you had settled in.

“Really fucking missed you mate.” Matty mumbled; snuggling his head into the side of your neck, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Me too. Can’t wait to squeeze the boys.”

“Yeah, they weren’t too happy I got to come to the airport but what are they going to do?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck all is what they’ll do!”

“I’m so happy you’re here, I can feel my anxiety slipping away already.” He hummed. “You’re not going back to those other northerners. You’re ours.” Matty spoke softly as he played with your fingers, the sweetness outweighing his very obvious jealousy.

“All yours love.”

You smiled softly at him, pressing a kiss to the top of his curls before riding silently back to the house that would become your home for the next however long you were in LA. When you entered the house; Jamie and Matty close behind with your suitcases you had barely made it into the entryway before George was barrelling towards you and sending you both tumbling to the floor. You let out a groan as you felt the weight of George’s gigantic frame on top of you.

“Missed you so much bitch!” He whispered in your ear as he squeezed you tight, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of your face.

“Missed you too G! But fuck I think you’ve just broke my back!” You groaned; wiggling under his weight to try dismiss some of the pain that was now coursing through you.

“Yeah I did!” George grinned and that was the moment you knew it was time to push him off you before you actually had chance to knock the annoying smirk off his face.

“God I hate you!” You exclaimed as you reached out to grab Hann’s awaiting hand, the giant sassing you right back that he knew you definitely didn’t, as Adam pulled you into a much more respectable greeting. Hugging you warmly before pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek and telling you he’s missed you loads, you squeezed him back tightly just as Ross came into view.

Stepping out of Hann’s arms; you shared a look of fondness with the bassist, the two of you beaming before sprinting into his arms where he squeezed you so tight you thought you might pop but you didn’t care because you with back with your favourite person (people). Wrapping your arms around his neck; you couldn’t help but sigh a deep sigh of happiness as you revelled in the warmth of Ross’ arms.

“God I’ve missed you so much.” Ross whispered in your ear.

“I’ve missed you more.” You whispered back.

“Impossible!” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before you abruptly turned in his arms to face the rest of the band and demanding a tour of your new abode.

Sleeping arrangements at the house; were that you were a bedroom short and no matter how much you told them you were fine with staying somewhere else and many arguments about how you were definitely not allowed to sleep on the sofa. You had admitted defeat; knowing you were never going to win and you were going to take it in turns sharing. Not that you minded; you guys were family. You had all shared tighter spaces and definitely worse spaces than a king sized bed in a luxurious house in Los Angeles. You were positive you would survive sharing with the band during your stay. Although Matty’s snoring was the one thing you were dreading when it came to Matty’s turn to share.

You had spent the first week sharing with Ross. Absolute bliss; he was clean, he opened up space in his wardrobe so you didn’t have to live out of your case and made space in his drawers for all your socks and underwear, he always let you choose what you watched before bed and was the best person to snuggle. You almost felt bad about not wanting to spend the next week with George! But as soon as you found out that Ross was more than willing to welcome you back for the rest of your duration after your week apart. You were quick to move back in with the bassist and that’s where you stayed much to your needy friend Matthew’s dismay.

The first week of being in LA was catching up with the boys, lying by the pool and catching a much needed tan that you couldn’t acquire back home and sitting in the studio whilst the boys work and doing nothing but admire them doing the thing you always loved the most. Watching them create magic. Then you were in back to back meetings with the band, Jamie and their team about the look they were wanting go for in terms of visuals for all their music videos and promo shots etc. It was something you were very excited about and couldn’t wait to start working on with them.

Love Me had been decided on the first single and you were currently on set and setting up everything you needed in terms of making sure the boys looked their absolute best. You were currently in the process of trying to tame George’s hair but neither your gentle giant nor his hair were cooperating when it came to sitting still.

“I swear to God. If you don’t sit still. I’m going to punch you so fucking hard.” You scowled at him. “The quicker this is done, the quicker we get finished. The quicker I can stop thinking of ways of hurting you and your curly headed mate.”

“He’s your curly headed mate too you know!” He chuckled at your unimpressed face. “I’m sorry. I’ll sit still promise.”

You were just on the edge of perfecting George’s look when Matty came barrelling in with Jamie hot on his tail as Matty’s sing song voice rang throughout the room, “Sweetheart!My beautiful best friend and love of my life!” He skipped straight on over and bouncing on the balls of his feet, stopping right next to George.

Taking a deep breath. You dropped your hands from George’s face, turning towards your best friend with a tight lipped smile. “You know you love me?”

“What have you done?” Your tone deadpan and already done with wherever this conversation is heading.

“It’s actually more what you can do for us.” Jamie interrupted. “Our main model didn’t realise that it was the boys she was booked for and is apparently already acquainted with Matthew.” Jamie paused to side eye his front man. Your own face less than impressed as you eyed him too.

“So she’s ‘politely’ declined and left. Matty didn’t want to do the main bit with anyone else so he’s come up with a plan.” Jamie then gestured for Matty to talk.

“Would you, my favourite person to ever grace this earth, please be my video girl? You’re already comfortable with me, you’ve seen me in several states of undress already and we’ve got mad chemistry and you’re so ridiculously hot that no one will ever know you’re not a hot shot model anyway! So what you do you say? Fancy a frolic in a hot tub?”

You blinked rapidly at him. You actually genuinely could not believe the words that were leaving your idiot friend’s mouth. He wanted you to be filmed in high definition to be seen by thousands of people and to live on the internet forever because he just couldn’t keep it in his pants. Frolic in a hot tub with him, in a bikini and do God knows what with him? Matthew couldn’t be serious? You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been staring at him when he started talking again.

“We’ll pay you double what you’re already getting. Please darling you know I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t desperate. We’d look so good together. It’ll be fun, I promise!”

You looked down at George who was next to you, he had some sort of amused look etched across his features that caused you to frown but then you caught the eye of Adam and Ross (your two favourite members of the band just fyi) looking at you sympathetically from across the room. You let out a sigh. God you needed to acquire some will power.

“You don’t have to pay me double. I’m already here aren’t I?” You rolled your eyes as Matty barrelled into you, yanking you into his arms. “I’ve just got one condition.”

Matty held your shoulders at arms length, promising. “Anything!”

Quickly glancing around the room, you caught the eyes of the rest of the band before smirking at Matty. “I’m not necking you. I have to draw a line somewhere Matthew!” The chortle that left George’s mouth was enough to make you grin as Matty’s face fell.

“What?! You’re no fun!” He sulked, before grumbling. “Not like we haven’t before.”

“That doesn’t count. We were sixteen!” You laughed; watching as he folded his arms across his chest like a child being told off. “You can’t play by those rules babe because then I could neck all of you in the video and no offence I don’t want to do that again.”

Your eyes quickly flashed towards Ross briefly before flitting back to Matty again. You thought you had got away with it but Adam definitely saw the interaction and the slight flush that crept it’s way onto his mate’s cheeks as you changed the subject, as Jamie directed you towards the wardrobe department to get you sorted for your music video debut.

Before you knew it you were in a skimpy swimsuit, bright blue eyeliner around your eyes, hair tossed into a cute messy bun and you were frolicking in a hot tub with Matty Healy. You’ll give him credit when it’s due, it was very easy to play pretend with him because he was right, you had a natural chemistry having been best friends with him over a decade and had seen him do some disgusting things in your time. So when his hands grabbed at your waist as he floated over towards you and ran his tongue straight up the side of your neck and straight up the side of your face, you couldn’t help but throw your throw your head back in laughter as his hands, his curls and his tongue tickled you, you really didn’t bat an eyelid.

Gently pushing him away; Matty almost instantly pulled you back towards him causing you to end up straddling him, so you cheekily licked his face in retaliation causing the two of you to grin at each other brightly before shoving each other playfully just as the director yelled cut.

“Excellent! You’re both amazing! Let’s see if we can get all five of you in there for some extra shots.” The director called out for the boys to join you.

You watched as the other three giants all clad in their trunks made their way over, standing up you knew as the smallest person there it would be easier to fit you in last than it would for them to climb in and end up squishing you. George dived straight on in without a second thought, splashing you as you attempted to get out of the way. Adam; ever the gentleman that he is, held out his hand to help you step out before stepping in himself like a normal person before floating off in Matty’s direction before Ross clambered on in too. Holding out his hand; your fingers found his easily, stepping back in and slinking back under the water and letting his hands naturally find your waist to pull you back so you were sitting against his chest.

“So more of the same please. Playful, splash the guys, flirt. Not as full on as before but look like you guys are all having fun!” The director shouted before yelling action.

The five of you continued to mess about, doing as instructed. It wasn’t exactly a chore to act like you were having fun with the band. Your laugh loud as you held your hands in front of your face as George spat jacuzzi water at you like the tramp that he is! Scrambling to get away you quickly managed to bump into Ross’ chest, causing you to turn and look up at him with a grin. You found him already looking at you cheekily, the look in his eyes made you shudder but you shrugged it off, sticking your tongue out at him as George surprisingly yanked you towards him at full speed. It all but continued until the director had decided he had enough footage of this particular storyboard for you guys to jump out.

You stayed sitting for a moment as Adam, Matty and George wrapped themselves in towels, finally having the space to stretch a little after being squished in between your friends for the past half hour. It was then you noticed Ross casually leaning against the side, arms wide as he watched you with a soft smile on his face. You were going to ask what he was looking at when you spotted a speckle on his cheek and floated on over, slotting into his inside easily and sweeping your fingertip across his cheekbone.

Holding your finger between the two of you, you glanced at it before glancing back up at the brunette. “Make a wish.” You whispered. Blowing gently so the eyelash floated away. Ross took you in for a moment, forgetting where you were and that Matty was stood behind the monitor still watching you. “You going to tell me what you wished for?”

“Won’t come true if I say it out loud now will it?” Ross cocked an eyebrow at you with a smirk.

“Right! Let’s get out before I end up looking like a prune!” You laughed.

“Prettiest prune I’ve ever seen though.” You blinked up at the brunette as he kissed the tip of your nose before jumping out, waiting for you with his arm out stretched ready to help out of the water and into some dry (his) clothes.

The footage of all five of you ended up being scrapped from the final edit of the video, claims of you all looked too squished in the tub.

What you didn’t know was that the real reason it was scrapped was because when Matty reviewed the footage; the fact you and his bassist were looking so sickeningly in love with one another whenever you looked in each other’s direction. He couldn’t risk having anyone say anything about it online, that and he wanted to protect you both. Also with your solo footage with him, you’re supposed be his hot chick and you couldn’t be looking at anyone else other than him but mainly the first thing.

2017

2016 had been a good bloody year for the boys! They had released their sophomore album I Like It When You Sleep For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware Of It in February and it had gone straight to number one in the UK and to the top of the Billboard charts in the US, giving them their first US number one. This time you made sure they were fully prepared for when your celebrations came around, gifting Matty (and the rest of the boys) who had just moved into a new house a beautiful set of wine glasses/champagne flutes each. Although nothing will ever beat drinking out of a chipped ‘Worlds Best Dad’ mug for self titled’s celebration but you did promise you’d celebrate properly this time and if anything, you stick to your promises.

They went and embarked on their world tour starting in Australia and The States in January and ending back home in December. It was a complete world wind and now you were both steady with your careers, you were able to travel with them for long periods of time in between your other jobs so you didn’t have to miss each other as much as you did during self titled. This you know Matty was very pleased with because it meant that you weren’t with the ‘other northerners’!

The boys had also been nominated for a Mercury Music Award for best album of the year and you couldn’t have been prouder of them. They deserved every number one album, every glowing review, every award nomination and it was a privilege to be by their sides as they achieved this. So when The Brit nominations came out in January and they had been nominated for Album of the Year and Best Group, you felt like your heart could burst. Then you got asked to attend with the band.

“Do you maybe, want to be my date?” Ross had asked shyly.

“You ask like I would ever say no! I’d be honoured to be your date MacDonald!”

So here you were the night of The Brits; your hair in curlers and a make up artist finishing off the last minute touches to your face whilst you were in between you running around the hotel room in your dressing gown and attending to the boys’ outfits that were hung up in the living room area of the suite management had hired out for you. Adam was already here; groomed to perfection (not like there was much to perfect with this angel of a man) and waiting for the others to arrive.

Ross was next to arrive just as your make up artist was leaving so as you quickly got him ready, your boys grabbed a bear whilst you waited for the troublesome twosome to arrive. Naturally they had to be hand delivered by Jamie because they were fannying about so as you rushed around, you thought about how grateful you were to earlier you, for thinking about getting yourself ready first before the boys showed up.

You could hear Jamie calling out that the car had arrived as he returned, the boys all shuffling about as they collected themselves ready to leave. You could hear Ross call your name as you rushed round the bedroom to find your shoes. Just managing to slip your foot into your last heel, you smoothed down the front of your dress as the door swung open. “Babe, the cars he…”

The bassist stopped in the doorway, jaw slack as he took in your appearance. Turning over your shoulder, a flurry of worry washed over you when Ross failed to continue speaking. “Do I look okay? God! This dress looks awful doesn’t it?” You asked, panic setting in as you nervously ran your hands down the front of your dress. Ross blinked at you; his expression one as if you had three heads. Shaking his own quickly, he let out a short chuckle.

“You look incredibly beautiful love.” He shot you a warm smile, your panic washing away instantly as he held out his hand. “Ready to go?”

Nodding. He felt a rush of warmth hit his cheeks as he caught sight of your tanned legs through the thigh high slit of the black elegant dress you were wearing for the evening. The plunging neckline of the dress leaving little to the imagination as your cleavage bounced with every step you took towards him. Slipping you hand into his, you met the boys and their dates downstairs in the lobby. Holding your clutch in front of your face as you were greeted with wolf whistles, you pleaded for them to just get in the car without any further embarrassment.

“Who are you and what have you done with our best friend?” Matty’s voice echoed through the hotel lobby as he came in to kiss your cheek.

“Yeah you look smokin’! Might have to steal you away later!” You pushed George away when he attempted to swat your ass after also pressing a kiss to your face. You really did hate him sometimes!

“You look beautiful sweetheart.” Adam pressed a deft kiss to your cheek before returning to Carly’s side. You really did appreciate him.

“Right you lot. In the car now or we’ll be late for the carpet!” Jamie ushered you all out of the hotel in a flurry.

You had been to a lot of fancy industry events since your career had taken off with both the boys and the Monkey’s. You had even been to The Brits before back in 2014 but not in the capacity that you were tonight, you were at work. You definitely had fun afterwards but tonight you could definitely let your hair down even though the boys had an outfit change for their performance. You were confident that it would be a seamless transition and you’d be able to enjoy their performance with Carly and Gabby from the audience.

You had probably drunk a little bit too much champagne but you didn’t care you were here to celebrate your boys. Matty and George were smoking weed under the table. You were trying to concentrate on what Carly and Adam were trying to say to you over the noise of the room but Ross kept saying ridiculous things in your ear about other people he had seen and making you lose concentration. Slapping your hand against the top of his leg; you threw your head back in more drunk laughter. His hand making its way on to your bare thigh as he giggled, pulling you in closer as you carried on your conversation with the rest of the table. You didn’t mind, you let him. It was harmless. Nobody was going to know in their inebriated states anyway, especially when you were covered by the table cloth. Except you forgot that Matty and George were underneath the table.

Then their category was up. Then their name was called out. Tears prickling at your eyes the moment the band’s name hit your ears. Your table on its feet as you all congratulated the boys. Bodies pulled against one another as they hugged their loved ones. Yours automatically finding their way around Ross’s neck as you squeezed him impossibly close.

“I’m so bloody proud of you!”

You grinned up at him. Ross pecked you on the lips like it was the most natural thing in the world and before you could be caught up (too much) in the moment or overthink, you were being yanked into George’s arms just as Matty was pulling Ross into a kiss before bounding round the table, kissing you too before they headed up on stage to accept their award.

Wrapping your arms around Louis’ bicep, you rested your chin upon his shoulder as you watched them collect The Brit Award for Best British Group. Proud didn’t even cover it as you beamed from ear to ear as a room full of their peers gave them their dues. Finally after all this time. It was about damn time if anyone asked you.

Then came the after party.

You definitely partied more than you did three years prior with the Monkey’s and that was a wild night by anyone’s standards. But your best friends of twenty two years had just been crowned Best British Group of the year at the fucking Brit Awards! This was grounds to celebrate and to celebrate hard! Your feet were hurting in your heels as you stood in the smoking area of the club with George and Ross. Matty no where to be seen but an incoherent voice note referring to an ‘after after party’ at the hotel was buzzing through your group chat.

The ‘after after parties’ were always better in your opinion. They were always at a hotel or someone’s house, which meant you could kick your shoes off at your first convenience and you could hear whoever you were conversing with better than when you’d have to scream over the music in whatever club you were in. Not that you spoke to anyone that wasn’t in your circle or anyone that wasn’t within two feet off Ross because you were joint at the hip the entire night. His hand never far from your lower back, your hip or just any part of you in general as you celebrated with your people.

Just like right now in the back of the car on the way back to your hotel, his hand sat comfortably on the top of your leg as you squished in with the rest of the gang. You didn’t think anyone noticed considering how obliterated you all seemed to be or maybe they did, they just didn’t know what they were looking at in their inebriated states. What they definitely didn’t see was what you did after slipping out of the hotel room your party was being held in to head to your own to freshen up, you best friend hot on your tail.

Running down the hotel corridor; hand grasped tightly in your best friend’s, your drunk giggles reverberated through the corridor as you ran away from all the noise at Matty’s. The abrupt stop had Ross bumping into the back of you, hands gripping your waist to stop him from toppling over. “Shit.” He drunkly grumbled; before giggling and spinning you round so you were face to face.

Ross’ stare flitted across your features. Long eyelashes, flushed cheeks and bright red lipstick donning your face. You only blinked up at his handsome face, not getting the chance to ask what was wrong when he spoke.

“You look so fucking beautiful tonight. Have I told you that? ”

Ross barely whispered as he pulled you closer so you were flushed against him. Smoothing down the lapels of his suit, you nodded slowly, unable to do anything else in your champagne haze. The next thing you knew; your back was against your hotel room door and Ross’ lips were on yours, kissing you like your lives depended on it.

God knows how long you were snogging in the hotel corridor but the fear of being caught by the boys had your brain jump into gear a little bit. Not a lot but enough. Groaning into Ross’ mouth as his hands reached up and gripped your jaw tightly, you finally pulled away from him. Without another word you were turning in his arms and opening your hotel room door, immediately pulling him in before you could get caught by your friends.

You reattached your mouth to his; your tongues intertwining with his as his large hands held you close, having already travelled down to your ass. Not being able to hold back the moan that bubbled inside you as he groaned into your mouth at the feel of your nails running up the back of his neck.

“So fucking proud of you. Need to show you how much.” You moaned; running your hands down his front and pulling him close, so your crotches were flush against one another as you grabbed at one another in a horny flurry.

Looping your fingers through his belt loops, you slowly got down on your knees. Eyelashes fluttering as you looked up at him innocently as your perfectly manicured hand undid his belt and reaching inside to take hold what you were about to find out was the perfect cock.

2019

After that night at The Brits two years prior; the relationship between the pair of you remained as it did before the incident in your hotel room. Except now you know what his cock looked like and how it felt to have him in your mouth. And Ross knew what it was like to experience you sucking his cock like a porn star, like it was the last thing you’d ever do. After you let him paint the back of your throat, the bassist pulled you up and kissed you in appreciation before making yourselves look presentable enough to slink back to all your friends down the corridor.

Nobody had to know that you loved how big he felt in your mouth and that you were on your knees just ten minutes prior nor did they need to know that Ross had an imprinted red smudge around the tip of his cock from your lipstick. But the two of you knew and it was your little secret.

Since that night in February a lot had happened in the 75 camp. Matthew had been to rehab and been staying clean since late 2017, the boys had created and released their third studio album A Brief Inquiry into Online Relationships and had gone straight to number one again (as they should!) Your annual tradition of champagne and weed in one of your living rooms still going strong, this year you were at Adam and Carly’s place. The boys had also just set off on the first leg of their Music for Cars Tour in the UK.

You, had continued to work for the boys; made them look presentable enough to go out in public, not necessarily behave in public because let’s be honest you weren’t a miracle worker! You also made them look pretty during their new album campaign. You had also worked with the Monkey’s again on a couple of shoots, much to Matty’s chagrin but you know it’s only because he’s salty due to the new fact that he’d found out about how Alex had written songs about you and he hated that you’d even fathom going there with him.

I mean you were a woman with eyes, what did he want you to say exactly?! He outright refused to even think about it never mind talk to you about it when you said he was being a little dramatic. You also had a short lived romance with a certain pop star that you’re sure would send the world into a tail spin but you weren’t going to kiss and tell, that wasn’t your style!

At this year’s Brits the boys were nominated for Best Group again but they were also nominated for Album of the Year, which was a big fucking deal! Ross had asked you to be his date again, which you accepted in a heart beat. Heat flurrying through your body as you remembered how 2017 had ended but you weren’t going to let that memory ruin your friendship. After all what was a little blowjob between friends!

You were joined by Carly and Gabby again and George’s new squeeze of the moment as you pre drank before the ceremony, sharing a bottle of bubbles with them. When the boys finally stepped out after putting on their suits, you felt your breath actually get caught in your throat as you caught sight of Ross in all his glory. The girls all heading to their respective dates to greet them but you felt frozen, he looked absolutely fucking divine and for once in your life you were speechless. Your best friend finally stopped in front of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek with a soft smile as he drunk in your own appearance.

“You look beautiful as always love.” He blushed as you ran your hands down the front of his suit jacket.

“Thanks. You look so handsome.” You looked up at him, your eyes bright as you stared at his handsome face. “Lets go kick some ass and bring it home shall we?!” You grinned; looking round his large frame at the other boys who already seemed to be watching the pair of you with these annoying all knowing expressions etched into their soft smiles.

And kick ass they did!

Once again proving that they were the best band in the fucking world. Your boys had won Best British Group again but they had also only bloody gone and won the best prize of the evening! Album of the Year! Which was true, they released the album of the year every year in your opinion and were always the best group in your eyes so they deserved to celebrate like they were the best fucking group in the world and that they did!

You were at an all star studded after party in the heart of London with the boys. You weren’t entirely sure what club you were in but you had just been dancing with Jade from Little Mix and had downed some sort of shot with Louis Tomlinson before retiring back to your corner to your people and to grab another glass of champagne.

“Having a good time love?” Ross’ deep voice reached your ear as his hand slipped around your waist and pulling you in close.

“Hmmmm.” You hummed, nodding as you took a sip as you turned into his arms. “Kinda want food and my bed now though! My feet are killing me!” You reached up on your toes so you didn’t have to shout.

Ross’ hands immediately squeezed at your waist before you watched him reach down to pop his beer on the crowded table and resting both hands on you before whispering words you really longed to hear. “Let’s get out of here!”

Nodding. He mentioned quickly nipping to the bathroom and to wait here before disappearing into the crowd of pop stars and other celebrities. Fiddling with the straps of your heels as you waited for Ross to return, you felt someone slip into the booth beside you. As you looked up you found George’s date watching you with a bright smile, so you sent her a friendly smile, not entirely sure how to start a conversation with her, especially when you were god knows how many glasses of champagne deep.

“You two are so cute. How long have you been together?”

It was an innocent question but you were definitely glad you had already put your glass down because you were certain you would have choked otherwise. George’s date stunned you into silence for a moment before managing to string a sentence together. “Ehhh. We’re not together. Ross is my best friend. I’ve known the boys since we were kids. It’s not like that.” You managed to splutter out at her in some sort of coherence, hopefully.

“Ohhh well you look look really good together.”

Luckily for you; Ross had magically reappeared before you could get any type of response out and asking if you were ready to go. Holding his hand out, you grabbed it immediately and pulled yourself up before turning back towards the pretty girl. “It was really lovely to meet you.” You told her, letting her know you guys were heading out but before you could be fully out of earshot she got the last word in, annoyingly shooting you a genuine smile.

“Just think about it.”

You blinked in shock at her boldness when you had known her less than twelve hours before you allowed Ross to pull you through the sweaty bodies and away from further embarrassment/anxiety inducing conversations with girls you didn’t know from Adam and that you knew G wasn’t going to keep around anyway.

As soon as the brisk night air hit the two of you, Ross’ suit jacket was already around your shoulders before your goosebumps could even say hello, his hand back in yours and trying to navigate the swarms of paparazzi who were waiting to take pictures of people much more interesting than the two of you.

A few flashes had gone off as you pushed your way through before heading in the opposite direction in hopes of catching an uber back to your hotel. But you weren’t bothered by the fact; only because the only time your face had ever appeared in the gossip magazines was when you were in the company of your lead singers and you doubted they remembered your name to print it anyway.

Tonight you were in the back of the car by yourselves and didn’t have to hide the fact that you both were touching one another in ways best friends shouldn’t. Ross’ large hard resting atop of your thigh that had been out all evening thanks to the little leather Versace number you were wearing for the special occasion.

Hands he didn’t remove from your body when you pulled up to the hotel, now trailing across your lower back as you strut across the lobby and into the lift. The ones then pulling you into his chest before wandering lower and holding on your ass as you shared a knowing look before smashing your lips to one another’s as you rode up to your floor of the hotel. The ones that then linked his fingers with yours as you giddily ran towards his room. The ones that pushed you back against the hotel room door as you made out like teenagers. You were about to drop to your knees when he started peppering kisses across your neck and down your chest.

“So fucking proud of you!” You moaned as he kissed just under your jaw. “Let me show you how fucking proud of you I am. Been thinking about how good you look all night.” You attempted to drop to your knees again just like you did all those years ago but Ross shook his head at you and it had you frowning in confusion.

“You don’t want me to suck you cock?” You cocked your eyebrow at him. “Babe you just won album of the year at The Brits and I’m literally willing to blow you and you’re saying no?” You couldn’t help but laugh at this situation. What was going on?

“Ohhh I’d love you to but I know what I’d love more.”

Gripping your hips tightly; Ross cocked his own eyebrow at you before dropping to his own knees. Your breath immediately catching in your throat as he blinked up at you from between your legs as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee before moving upwards. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you in this dress all night! So fucking beautiful.” He mumbled as he reached the top of your thighs.

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t even talk when you walked out in this suit earlier. The fans are literally going insane!” You trailed off into a groan as Ross’ hands trailed up the backs of your legs and underneath your dress.

He shot you a look of permission from between your legs; your right hand reaching out to hold the side of his bearded face in your hand as you found yourself softly nodding as if what was about to happen wasn’t completely sinful. You’d give him the permission to do whatever the hell he wanted when he looked that good on his knees for you.

Ross let out the loudest groan of the night as he pushed the end of your LBD up upon realising you weren’t wearing any underwear. “Have you not been wearing anything underneath this all evening?” He asked.

Biting your lip to mainly avoid laughing at his reaction, you shook your head timidly only to have your leg thrown over his shoulder before you could do or say or think about anything else. Your hand shooting to grip Ross’ hair; as you threw your head straight against the hotel room door as he rightfully took his reward.

Or maybe it was yours?!

2020

A global pandemic was something you never thought you would ever have to live through. The chance to sit at home and relax for a substantial amount of time was welcomed to begin with, considering you spent most of your life jet setting around the world either with your boys or with other artists and living in a constant state of jet lag. But after the first month of sitting in doors, you were literally scratching at the walls to get out of the house. To style someone’s hair, to be stuck in a fitting with Matty and have him send you spiralling into a state of annoyance, to hug somebody. Anybody. Not getting to see anybody was the worst bit. Your parents, your grandparents, your boys.

Though you were one of the lucky ones. You weren’t alone. You were with Adam and Carly. Lockdown was supposed to be two weeks, it was supposed to be like a little vacation with your friends. But then two weeks turned into a month and then two months and then some and seeing Ross, George and Matty in zoom meetings or FaceTime just wasn’t the same.

You wanted Matty to take the piss out of your new found hobby to your face not through a screen. (You and Carly had both taken up knitting and pilates. All three of you had got extremely good at Scrabble) But then your space away from your curly haired lead singer was also a blessing. Imagine having to quarantine with him? You would have been scratching at the walls to get out for a different reason!

You missed Ross the most. Not that you’d tell the others because they were little shit bags apart from Adam, he is an actual angel. But you did, this was the longest you had been away from each other since their self titled world tour, so you hadn’t gone this long without each other in six years and quite frankly you hated it.

Little did you know, so did Ross.

The day you were reunited. It was like a piece of your soul had just stitched itself back together. That niggle in your heart that you couldn’t quite explain what it was, just stopped niggling away at you the moment you clapped eyes on one another.

There was that moment after months of lockdown, socially distanced walks, only seeing essential workers and those you were living with and not being able to touch anybody that the moment you could meet in groups of six outside. That was it. The five of you plus Carly were meeting in G’s garden for a barbecue and honestly you couldn’t have been more excited. You, Carly and Adam were the first to arrive and whilst you sipped casually on your drinks in the sun, as you started to help to set up the array of food on the table sat on George’s decking, you heard the front door go.

Then you heard that infectious laugh and two pairs of advancing footsteps as the pair arrived in the garden, causing the three of you to smile brightly at the two giants. Popping his beer down, you couldn’t help but smile brightly as you watched Adam run to hug his best mate after not seeing him for months. As much as it’s been weird for you, you cannot imagine what it was like for the boys. The two boys pulled George into their little cuddle, making you and Carly giggle. The big old softies!

Your laughter had the boys pulling apart and George attempting to send a menacing glare in your direction but you couldn’t even laugh because Ross finally made eye contact with you for the first time in person in months. The others all staying quiet as they observed the pair of you, unsure how long you were drinking each other in, reality setting in after a beat, had the pair of you grinning brightly at one another before you took off into a run.

With no words uttered between you girls; Carly subtly took the glass of wine off you with a knowing smile whilst you competed in your stare off before you set off towards your best friend. Running as quickly as your little legs could carry you, Ross took a couple of strides to meet you in the middle as you quite literally launched yourself at him.

Jumping into his arms; yours automatically find their home around his neck as his found theirs around your waist, you clung onto him like a koala. His long arms encapsulating you in his embrace as you pulled him in tighter with your legs, his hands automatically dropping down to your ass to hoist you further into him where they subsequently stayed. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by George, Adam and Carly or Matthew who had let himself into George’s house unannounced.

“Jesus. Didn’t realise we were getting a free show today. Put her fucking down MacDonald. It’s my turn!”

Jumping down out of his arms; both you and your giant sent the tiny irritating front man the middle finger before turning to run and give Matthew a hug too. The six of you settled into conversation as you milled about the garden as G manned the barbecue. Laughter erupting through the summer air as you caught each other up on what you had all been up to and reminiscing of days gone past in between drinking and eating all the food you guys had prepared for your reunion.

It was like sun light had pierced through your heart and made you all warm and fuzzy inside, being back with your people after all this time. Especially with being curled up next to Ross on George's outdoor sofa with a glass of wine in your hand. You couldn’t help but look round at your friends; Matty was talking animatedly with George and Carly about something, a cig hanging from between his fingers. Adam and Ross in deep conversation about music. Adam opposite you; Ross’ arm casually around your shoulder, a beer in his other hand and you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh, smiling as you took in the moment. Adam’s eyes flitted towards you at your noise, taking in his two best friends and sent you this all enveloping warm smile before reverting his attention back to the brunette beside you.

By the time the sun was setting; everyone was fair to say a little tipsy. It was also fair to say that you weren’t listening to a word that George was saying to you, with your attention else where as you looked over your shoulder to find Ross across the garden, his eyes finding yours with a bright smile. Turning to G, you excused yourself and interrupted whatever rubbish Matty was talking about to grab Ross’ attention.

Smushing a messy kiss to your cheek; Matthew got you into a loving headlock, eventually managing to wiggle free from his grip and push the giggling twat away from you before could step into Ross’ warm embrace. Stood casually in each other’s arms; the pair of you watched the sun setting on the horizon for a peaceful moment but you snuggled further into his side and tightening your grip on him.

“Missed you so much you know. ” You mumbled into his chest.

“Missed you more darling.” The brunette spoke into your hair as he pressed a kiss there.

“Can we agree to never go that long without each other again please.” You whispered; looking up to find his gaze already on you, making your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. “Also that might be impossible MacDonald because I know I missed you the most!”

“If you say so.” He smirked.

Whilst the two of you were in your own little world; Adam and Carly were huddled off in the corner sharing a fruit platter you had brought to the occasion and quietly observing the two of you. “Do you think they know?” Carly asked her fiancé, popping a strawberry in her mouth as she carried on watching her two friends from across the garden.

“No. But they will.”

2022

Since that day in George’s garden; you had essentially not left each other’s side. You spent another couple of weeks at Adam and Carly’s before making the move back to your own apartment, that wasn’t too far from Matty’s so you were seeing him an awful lot more too because you were basically forcing him to let you tag along on his dog walks with his new dog Mayhem. Which by the way, cutest dog ever!

You saw Ross in the flesh every day in some shape or form even if it was for a half hour, then you started going round for tea and vice versa and then being naughty and sleeping over just because you could and if those idiots in charge of the country could break the rules then so could you. By the time it came round for you both to get back to work for the new album campaign, you were practically living together, unknown to the rest of the band. You couldn’t remember the last time you went more than two days without staying with him at his place or him at yours.

You remember the night before your first day back at work; you were both lounging on his bed, your hand cascading through his long hair which personally you thought was going to go down an absolute treat with the fans, as he laid in your lap and being his usual self and ranting about all the chaos and stress that being back at work would bring. Ross had always been good looking but there was something about him with his little man bun that you knew was going to turn the female population absolutely feral and you wouldn’t blame them one bit!

“The kids are going to go wild when they see your hair!”

“The boys took the piss when we they saw it.” He grumbled against your bare leg.

“That’s because they’re dicks and they’re just jealous they can’t pull hair like this off! I like the long hair. It suits you babe. Looks hot!” You told him not thinking anything of it as you pressed a kiss to the the part of his head you could reach from your current angle.

“You think so?”

“I know so!” You beamed at him.

You were absolutely right of course, the kids went absolutely insane when the first images were dropped for Being Funny in a Foreign Language and when the music videos started dropping, you best believe the thirst on the internet was real. Some of them so hilariously thirsty you couldn’t help but like them yourself and sometimes even tag him in the responses. Which he hated of course, your best friend was never one to know how to take a compliment. But you would shower the silly sausage in compliments until you drilled it into him that he was deserving of all the love he was receiving.

The boys were in the car on the way into Central London in regards to the Official Charts countdown and when Ross threw his head up with a playful scowl from where it was deep in his phone from across the van. You were currently mid conversation with George when you caught his glare out of your peripheral and you couldn’t help but guffaw out a chuckle when he continued to narrow his eyes at you.

“Sorry G, hold on a sec. What the fuck you glaring at me for MacDonald?!” Everyone’s attention now on the bassist.

“Stop tagging me in those things on instagram!”

“What things on instagram?” Matty turned round to give us his full attention, his interest suddenly peaked.

“I tag him in all the thirst comments about him because he deserves to know that the fans think he’s hot as fuck! But the grump won’t take the compliment!”

“Why dude?! You’re hot as fuck!” Matty pointed out like it was obvious. Which it was. Before turning back towards you. “Right?”

“Literally so hot!” You smirked. “You’re all the hottest you’ve ever looked! I mean Ads is a literal DILF so can we all collectively as a band agree that you’re fit as fuck!”

“Just drop it… please!” Ross pleaded; eyes trained on you with softness behind them as we pulled up to the building.

So you dropped it. Jamie and yourself ushering them out of the van and into the building where your boys were presented with their fifth consecutive number one album plaque. The glow that was emitting from your best friends instantly made you light up with pride, your loud cackle reverberating round the small room they were filming in as Matty pounced on you. The other boys quickly following suit; although they weren’t as aggressive with their affection.

Your grin didn’t leave your face once as they tried to record their thank you video; your giggle being captured on camera as George tried to imitate Matty and becoming so northern your brain just physically couldn’t handle it! Your grin still stretching across your face even as Matty swung your hands in between the pair of you as he giddily pulled you back to the care with such force, he nearly pulled your arm out of the socket. Your grin still beaming across your features as you sat curled up on Ross’ sofa as you watched the boys pass a joint around the living room as you sipped on your champagne.

The feeling of watching the boys pass another milestone. Their fifth consecutive number one album, which meant they made the best fucking album five times in a fucking row! If you could bottle this warm fuzzy feeling of knowing your family were thriving and succeeding in life, you would sell it by the bottle full because there was no better feeling than right now in Ross’ living room getting champagne drunk and smoking with your best friends. Just like you had done for the past nine years.

You were fully in your own little world when George’s voice boomed back into the living room like he had other noise to compete with, his long legs quickly carrying him back into your eye line in a rush and stopped to be dramatic once he had everyone’s attention

“Who the fuck’s stuff is on your bathroom counter? There’s a shit tone of women’s products in there! Have you been keeping a missus from us?” He exclaimed; his face lighting up like he was about to unearth the juiciest of all gossip.

“It’s mine.” You said; taking a sip of your champagne casually before Ross could even open his mouth and explain.

“It’s yours? Why is all your stuff littering his bathroom?” George’s eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why you’d have a toothbrush and all your essentials here when you had your own place ten minutes away.

“Littering? Please! Don’t insult me! It’s in a nice neat pile in the corner!” You rolled your eyes at your gigantic friend. “And because I sometimes sleep over when I’ve had too much to drink. Did you know I also have shit at Hann’s house, a drawer of clothes at Matty’s and Charli made me a box of stuff that’s on the bottom shelf in the cupboard underneath your bathroom sink?!”

“Really?!” George’s eyebrows shot up as he retained everything you had just said but mainly the latter of information.

“Yes G! Why would I lie?!” You laughed; shaking your head. “Is that all okay with you G? You calmed down now?!” You challenged him with a smirk.

Your gentle giant nodded, he still cocked an eyebrow at your confession (the part about your sleepovers) but a soft smile washed over his features as you opened your arms. “Now come here idiot!” The creases at the side of his eyes crinkled in the light of Ross’ living room before he bounded over and smothered you with his entire body, which to be honest you really welcomed even if he was crushing your tiny five foot two frame as you shared the love seat in the corner.

G didn’t need to know that what you told him was a little white lie and that you actually stay over several times a week and the days you’re not acquainted with the four walls of Ross’ humble abode, he was staying over at your place. The co-dependency was real at his point, you were afraid to admit it out loud.

What he also didn’t need to know was that after the boys all jumped in a taxi to go home, instead of falling asleep in Ross’ guest bedroom. You crawled into his bed clad in only one of his t-shirts (read a dress on you) and a pair of knickers and snuggling your body straight into his warm chest, where you pressed soft kisses across the underline of his jaw. Mumblings of how fucking proud you were until he finally looked down to look at you and without a seconds hesitation smashed his lips against yours.

2023

You thought the night where you tumbled around the sheets with Ross after their album celebration was going to be just like every other time you had messed around with him over the years. I mean it was and yet somehow it wasn’t at all. Nothing changed but everything did that day. As you stood in his kitchen, a hoodie of his donning your small frame as you waited for the kettle to boil. The brunette came into the kitchen; walked straight up to you, wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his warm body before proceeding to press a kiss to your temple before announcing that he was heading to the gym. Mumbling something about hoping you were still going to be here when he got back.

You were.

You had cleaned up the mess from the night before, changed his bedding and made lunch for the two of you, that was currently sitting in the fridge. A greek salad if you’re wondering. Your best friend returned home from the gym a hour and a half later; sweaty and looking hot as fuck, to you still in his clothes and reading on his sofa. His eyes softening at the realisation you had stayed. After he showered; the pair of you ate lunch and hung out in his living room, where you draped your legs over his as you both relished in the calmness of the silence the two of you brought out in one another.

His large hands casually held on to your legs, his calloused finger tips rubbing circles against your skin as you read your book whilst hr read something on his iPad. When he suddenly put it down and pulled you towards him so you were basically sitting on his lap.

“Can I help you?” You cocked an eyebrow; an amused smirk etched across your features as you drunk him in and trying not to laugh.

The pair of you competed in a stare off for what felt like forever before you just said fuck it, threw your book to the floor and then the two of your were surging towards each other. Pulling at each other; to get as close to one another as possible as your mouths moved against the other as you made out on his couch. It was was when you tugged at the hair at the base of his neck; yanking the bobble out of his hair so you could really get to grips with it that Ross threw you backwards before throwing himself back on top of you and taking you right there on his living room couch.

That was over three months ago and you’ve been sneaking around ever since.

You had never kept secrets from one another in your twenty plus years of friendship before but there was something kind of fun with knowing this was something that you and Ross had that the boys didn’t. It was different this time from your little secrets of hook ups past because he was now your man now and you were his girl. This time you were really fucking doing it. You had never been this happy and it was all down to the man who has been by your side this entire time.

“Babe we have to get ready to go. You know Matty hates lateness and I can’t be arsed with his mood swings today.” You shouted towards your now shared bedroom from the bathroom. Turning on your heels, you made your way back towards the bedroom to find Ross sat on the edge of the bed already waiting. Your boyfriend opening his arms for you step in to; which you did on instinct, his arms wrapping round the back of your legs to lock you into his body.

“Matty can wait.” He said; causing you to cock his eyebrow. “I’ve been thinking about The Brits coming up and…” Ross paused; a nervousness in his features which confused you because you have literally have never said no to him, ever. “I think you know what I’m going to ask you.” You nodded. “Don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you though.” He groaned; squeezing you against him causing you to chuckle.

“Never stopped you before MacDonald.” You smirked.

Your loud laugh reverberating around your bedroom as he pushed you away with a scoff and mumblings of “I’m sure Hann will let him share Carly as his date!” Making you laugh even more as he grabbed his car keys off the side as you both made your way to work.

The night of The Brit Awards felt a little bit different this time around. It was the first time the boys were at a public event after that god forsaken podcast had dropped. You were upset with the outcome and you best believe Matty fucking knew about it and so did the rest of the world. There was a slight edge to the evening knowing there were a lot of people who possibly knew what had gone down and that something might be said but you made him promise to be on his best behaviour and if it is one thing that Matthew is good at, it’s keeping his promises to you.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous this evening, if anything he was the shell of his usually loud self and you promised yourself to make sure he was in high spirits for the evening especially when he didn’t have anyone on his arm. This being the first Brits that Gabby wasn’t with your party and seeing as he parted ways with his latest muse, it didn’t go unnoticed that he kept looking round at the fact everyone was pre-occupied with their dates, especially with Ross trying to maintain your attention with every alcoholic beverage he’d consumed.

When it finally got to their category; your table finally shut up after being so boisterously loud the entire ceremony as you celebrated together. Ross’ hand snuck on to your thigh under the table, made you flit your eyes towards him with a smirk, your own hand joining his. You winked at George from across the table as you held on to one another, they had this in the bag; their fans had never failed them before but you knew this meant a lot to the boys. Slipping your hand across to your right, you wrapped your hand in Matty’s, only turning towards him when his head snapped towards yours, eyes showing everything he needed to say and squeezing him with a warm smile.

When Daisy May Cooper called out their name; your table all jumped up in celebration. Both Carly and Charli embracing Hann and George as Ross pulled you into his own arms, settling for squeeze of your waist and a kiss to your cheek instead of your usual peck considering the rest of you weren’t going at it like usual and you didn’t want it to seem out of place when you turned to Matty. Your heart sinking when he stood with no one to congratulate him.

Yanking him straight into your arms; you didn’t care that there was definitely a camera directed right at his face to capture his reaction. You’d rather them talk about this and his “potential new girlfriend” then anything else that was currently happening in his life. So you pulled him close so you were squished against him and kissed his cheek, holding him there longer than necessary. Whispering how fucking proud you were of him before holding him by the shoulders to get a good look at him before kissing him again before sending him on his way to accept his award.

Once you got to the after party you couldn’t have been happier to be with your mates and getting champagne drunk especially now you had Charli to act feral with! A quick reunion with an old flame had Ross spilling with jealousy as he watched and you Charli interact with the handsome singer before dragging you off as soon as you returned which is how you found yourself in your current position.

Bent over the sinks in the bathroom of some exclusive club in Central London. Clinging on for dear life as your boyfriend gripped your hips hard and quite literally holding you up as he fucked the life out of you. You just prayed he had locked the door because the pornographic moan you just let out didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Pulling you up so your back was pressed against his chest; you felt impossibly fuller as he fucked up into you from this angle, making your eyes roll to the back of your head just as it flew back to rest on his shoulder. Both sharing a moment of tenderness; he pressed a kiss to your temple before resuming his sickeningly fast pace and growling into your ear.

“Was he good? When you were fucking the boybander?”

“Shit! So good! Please baby, let me cum!” You whimpered into his neck.

“As good as me?” Ross growled; as he carried on fucking into you as your knees buckled.

“No one is as good as you baby.” You groaned. “Never cum so hard in my life! Let me cum for you! You know I’m always good for you. Ross please.” You begged into his neck. Your boyfriend reaching round and adding that extra pressure to your clit that always had you shaking and coming around his cock like it was a sport!

Straight after he made you cum, he was coming inside you and pressing sweet kisses to the side of your face before rushing to help clean you up. Running your hands through your hair; you tossled your hands through it in an attempt to look put together enough your friends wouldn’t question your appearance when Ross appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder just to watch you put your lipstick back on.

Just as you were were getting to leave the bathroom; just outside, somewhere down the corridor Hann was on his way to find the bathroom when he spotted you peeking your head out of the bathroom suspiciously, it looked like you were checking for something so he ducked behind the wall he had just appeared from and watched your weird behaviour from afar. When the coast was clear; you stepped out. Ross followed quickly after; bending down to reach your height and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before you headed back into the club to find the rest of your mates.

Not knowing that Hann had witnessed the entire thing.

Australia

You hadn’t seen the boys since the beginning of March when you had flown out to New York with them to make them look all pretty and tv ready for SNL. Since then you had been home again, then flown to Los Angeles to work on some new stuff with the Jonas Brothers; so between shoots, meetings and flying back and forth there wasn’t really any time to squeeze in a visit to see your best friends. Which fucking sucked because you were really missing your boyfriend and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms rather than having to FaceTime him into your bed like you had been doing for the past three weeks you had spent apart.

As far as you were aware you had both done a pretty good job at keeping the fact you had transitioned from friends into something more from the rest of the boys since last October. But you didn’t know how long you could do it anymore, the thrill at the beginning was starting to wear off now that all you wanted to do was hold his hand and fucking kiss him whenever you wanted without having to worry about being caught by G, Matty or Hann.

It was after a phone call with your boyfriend one evening that you agreed that maybe you should consider telling the boys once they were home from Australia; which after you added Hann and G into your call, the four of you had organised for you to fly in to surprise Matty for his birthday because despite everything you missed the little shit! It was also an excuse to see Ross and get some sun and travel the beautiful country, so you couldn’t really complain even if the journey to get to them was stupidly long it was worth it to see the look on Matty’s face and sleep next to Ross again.

It was arriving at two o’clock in the morning in Perth on the morning of Matty’s birthday that you were struggling with as you sluggishly made your way through customs and then baggage claim to find Ross stood with his hood up and leaning against a pillar in arrivals for you. Stepping into his warm embrace; the anxiety that had been bubbling away in you for the majority of your journey instantly vanished as soon as Ross wrapped you up in his arms. Reaching down; Ross took your jaw firmly in his hands; your boyfriend kissing you deeply before taking your hand without a single word before silently walking you to the car he had waiting to take you both back to the hotel.

You don’t think you’d had a decent night’s sleep like this since before New York. The moment you had crawled into Ross’ unmade bed (which he had clearly stumbled out of just to go pick you up from the airport) and into his arms, you were out like a light. Just the comfort of knowing he was in touching distance and not half way across the world from you had you in such a deep sleep; that the feeling of Ross peppering kisses along shoulder and up your neck wasn’t enough to put you in a foul mood later that morning. When usually anyone who dares wake you from your slumber would have to feel the force of your wrath and believe me the boys had all been on the receiving end of it.

Upon dragging you out of bed and pulling the both of you into the shower to freshen up; the pair of you were making your way down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast and a chance for a decent cup of coffee (or several!) Once you were down there; you were already being greeted by Hann who was wrapping you up in a tight hug before you could even greet him with a “Good Morning” and it made you all warm and fuzzy inside when he whispered how much he missed you in your ear before you were abruptly yanked into someone else’s arms.

“My turn.” You heard a familiar grumble. “Hey bitch! Missed you.”

“Missed you too G” You giggled as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek before throwing himself back down at the table and shovelling the toast he was eating into his gob without another word!

Upon sitting down you realised Jamie Squire was also already at breakfast, so you made your way round to give him a quick squeeze before sitting in the empty seat next to George. As you sat after making the rounds of hello; Ross was placing your favourite coffee in front of you which you appreciated greatly before mumbling he’d ordered your favourite for breakfast. Also greatly appreciated. Hann smiling into his mug of coffee as he clocked the interaction. The five of you spoke about their excitement to be back in Australia and your flight over here and how cool it is that you’re working with the Jonas Brothers when you realised the time.

“Best go order the birthday boy his coffee before he wakes up and he ruins his own surprise. I’ll see you boys later.” You sent your friends a soft smile and Ross a subtle wink which you thought had gone unnoticed but Jamie definitely caught it before you made your way to the barista to order Matty’s coffee before making your way back up to your floor and Matty’s room that was situated opposite Ross and your room.

Knocking on the door. You waited patiently outside his room; the chuckle that was brewing in your chest as you bounced on the balls of your feet, escaping when you heard him grumble out a grumpy “Who is it?” Through the door.

“Room service!”

You tried to sound serious and so unlike yourself by putting on an Aussie accent but very clearly failing miserably because you ended up cackling when Matty yanked open the door so fast with furrowed eyebrows and the most hilarious confused expression on his little tired face that you ended up full on laughing as you held out his cappuccino.

“Cappuccino?” You held the take away cup out towards him.

Grabbing it out of your hand; Matty essentially threw it on the floor before throwing himself at you and holding you so tightly you thought he might pop a lung! It was only when you reached round to hug him properly and felt his warm skin against your own that you realised he was only his boxers and you were stood in the middle of the hotel corridor.

“Babe lets get you inside before people see you in your boxers!” You giggled; trying to guide him back towards his room. Arm nearly pulled out the socket as you bent down to grab his coffee from the floor.

As soon as you were inside and the door was closed. Matty was throwing himself back at you again so fast and making you tumble over, the pair of you now on top of his unmade bed and the lead singer refusing to let you go.

“What are you doing here?” He mumbled against your chest.

“It’s your birthday.” You replied; like it was obvious.

Matty blinked up at you like you had three heads.

“But it’s not like we’re up the road. We’re in Australia.” He point blank pointed out to you.

“I know.” You laughed.

“You flew all the way to Australia for my birthday?” Matty looked up at you with those big brown eyes like he couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“I flew all the way to Australia to see you on your birthday.” You confirmed.

And when his little lip jutted out; you could feel your heart constrict as he buried himself into your side even more, the grip on your waist tighter than when he greeted you five minutes ago when he opened his hotel room door, little sobs erupting from him as he cried “I love you so much” into your neck.

“Love you too Healy.” You smiled into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his curls as you just relished in your best friend’s presence.

“I can’t wait to see the boys’ faces when they see you! Ross is going to be so stoked!” He was grinning at you, his face falling when he noticed the smirk on your face. “They already know don’t they?”

“Ross picked me up from the airport at two am and I just had breakfast with the boys. They helped me plan the surprise.” You smiled softly at him.

“You sneaky bastards! I know everything!” Matty exclaimed dramatically making you cackle loudly. “Where did you even stay last night? You sleep with Ross?”

You knew there was a slight teasing undertone even if it was an innocent question and he was genuinely asking out of interest due to you arriving in the middle of the night. But you also knew he loved teasing Ross because you were the closest pairing out of the five of you. Not that you weren’t extremely close with the others but there was something about your relationship that the three of them knew was different than their own. “I did, yeah.”

“Bet he loved that!” Matty smirked.

“Ohhh no I loved it. Best cuddles out of the lot of you!” You rolled your eyes at his teasing but it wasn’t a lie. “Now get fucking dressed! I want to do something nice seeing as we’re in Australia and then I’ll take you for lunch before I have to drop you off at work.” You scolded him, shoving him away from you. Rummaging through his suitcase to find something appropriate for him to wear so if anyone caught you, he didn’t look completely homeless next to you and believe me he has the ability when he’s in the mood.

Do you know what? You and Matty had a great few hours together, just the two of you. It had filled you completely with that warm fuzzy feeling as you couldn’t remember the last time you had hung out just the two of you. He showed you around the area, you visited a book store where you bought yourself and him some new books despite the fact that he argued that he didn’t want you to pay considering you had flown out for him but it was his birthday. Plus the boys totally charged your flights to the label after your own mini argument over it so if you can’t treat your friends on their birthday when can you. You took him out for lunch, took some photos with some fans that had spotted you both before heading to the arena and by the time he hit the stage that night, Matty was well and truly glowing.

Touched by the fact you wanted to be there on his birthday despite being on the opposite side of the world. I mean you would do it for any of the boys, they were family they just didn’t need to know that you also needed their bassist to do absolutely unspeakable things to you too! So when he gave you a little shoutout, you didn’t mind this time even if he was being sly at the same time.

“Our best mate from school has flown out to see us. Whenever we look remotely cool and put together in public that’s all her! She claims she’s here for my birthday but personally I think it’s cause her and Ross are a bit co-dependant on each other!”

You rolled your eyes as Matty spoke to the audience; holding a large birthday cake in your hands. George was opening the door just as he addressed the fans, his cackle loud enough to be picked up around the many mics littered around the stage. Loud screams erupting as they watched the drummer bring you onto the stage. Matty only turning around once Hann was holding out his hand to help you down the stairs with the cake.

Hand flying to his chest; Matty held it over his heart as you got nearer with the cake. Ross, Hann and G’s voice starting off the chorus of Happy Birthday before all the fans joined in. Matty wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you sang to him. After blowing out his candles; the singer pressed an appreciative kiss to your temple, squeezing you into an awkward side hug as you tried not to get cake all over him, before you reached up to happily return the kiss. But before you escaped the glare of thousands of iPhones capturing the moment you leant towards the mic before Matty could even stop you.

“Can I just say you’re more co-dependent on us that me and Ross ever will be!” You laughed loudly into his mic; sending a wink to the bassist. “Anyway enjoy the rest of your night everyone! Happy Birthday, love you Heals!”

You pulled away from Matthew with some speed before his intrusive thoughts could take over and he could shove your face into the cake or start throwing it at you. You were just about to head towards Hann’s awaiting helping hand when Ross was by your side in an instant and kissing your cheek, whispering a soft “Love you” into your ear before allowing Hann to kiss you too before leaving the stage; catching the kiss George blew at you just as Waughy held the door open for you to exit.

As soon as you were off stage; you placed the cake down and picked up your phone knowing a video of you bringing out a birthday cake would already be on a update account. What you weren’t expecting was all the comments relating to Ross prior to your appearance on how happy he seemed tonight or to be so invested in you.

“Did you see how his face lit up when their friend came on stage?”

“The boys all looked super fucking happy tonight and it’s cause their childhood bestie flew out to see them for Matty’s birthday. Friendship fucking goals!”

“But did you see how bashful he looked when Matty said they were co-dependent on each other?!”

“Man is 100% in love!”

“Am I sad it isn’t me that makes Ross blush like that? Yes! But Ruby is so fucking pretty!”

“The boys still being best friends with Ruby since they were in school is so freaking cute!”

“No way! They’re not into one another! Just look at them!”

“The way he rushed to give her a kiss before she left cause she wasn’t on his side of stage. Stop it I’m so soft. No one talk to me.”

You couldn’t even complain that social media was alight with conversation about you at this current moment because when you watched the video back of your brief interaction on stage with them. You couldn’t even lie. All the boys looked incredible happy and the way the love of your life was smiling at his feet when Matty made comment about the pair of you, you felt your chest pang as you realised that you never want to see him without that beautiful smile on his face. He was it for you. You wanted to make him smile for the rest of your life.

Home

Once the boys were back home from touring Australia and Asia; trying to tie them down in one place was a lot harder than you had anticipated. Of course Ross, Adam and Carly were all in London but with Matty being Matty, he had currently sent the world into a tail spin and Charli & G basically lived in Italy when they weren’t busy but you had sent a notification to your shared calendar that you wanted a get together to celebrate your birthday at some point around a handful of days you all seemed to have free.

After several meltdowns over Matthew’s whereabouts and his availability and having Hann take the reins to lock down a date. Your best friends were spending the eve of your birthday with you all together for the first time in years and you could have cried because the simplicity of just hanging out and not having to keep up appearances for prying eyes is what you longed for the most nowadays. It had been so long with the band’s career taking off, it’s why you always strived to keep your album tradition going. It was something just the five of you had that was yours and not for Jamie or the label or the fans. Just five childhood best friends celebrating each other.

A dinner. That’s all you wanted. The boys, Carly and Charli at your place where you could drink as much wine as you wanted without having to face paps and to eat delicious food. You were already winning considering you woke up the morning of your 34th birthday with the love of your life between your legs with his mouth on you and making you cum all over his face. He coaxed several orgasms out of you before it was even 9am and that was just with his mouth. You couldn’t really complain especially when he fucked you so good you almost blacked out after your fifth.

But now it was time to finish getting the apartment ready. Ross was hoovering the living room and you were placing table settings around your beautiful oak wood dining table. A present for Christmas off Ross; with a promise it will look perfect in your new shared house you had been renovating, that the pair of you purchased (in secret) back in January before tour started back up again.

You had a chef in the kitchen; helping to prepare most of what was to be your three course meal tonight and going over the instructions of how to finish each course off once your guests had arrived, as you observed him with your rollers in your hair and one of Ross’ hoodies that drowned you like a rat. He had only just left and you had only just managed to get out of his hoodie and into your outfit for the night (leather trousers and lace bodysuit) when the doorbell went. Guesses on who wasn’t early for your birthday! Letting Carly and Adam in you pulled Carly into your bedroom to have her help remove the rollers from your hair whilst the boys grabbed a beer. Matthew was next to arrive, shortly followed by George and Charli.

You had all settled into your living room with your drinks as they showered you with gifts despite the fact you had very clearly told them that their presence on your birthday was enough. It was after you had opened all of them that Charli was passing over one more.

“What’s this? Guys you’ve got me enough.” You sighed happily before tearing into the paper to find what seemed to be a photo album/scarp book of some sort.

“Just open it.” George pressed softly; a warm smile etched across his handsome features as you looked at them confused.

When you finally opened the front of it; eyebrows furrowed in confusion on what this could actually be. But you weren’t prepared for when you actually opened it, your breath getting caught in your throat when you saw pictures of yourself and the boys. Pictures you hadn’t seen in a very long time. Photos of you in school plays together. You, Ross and Matty at prom. You and Adam at his cousin’s wedding when you were nineteen. A ticket stub from their first big gig accompanied by the photo you forced the bartender to take of the five of you after said gig. A polaroid of the five of you on the set of the Love Me video. A page dedicated to all your Brits appearances with them. Debut album celebrations. All your birthdays. All their big mile stones.

Your vision already blurry; the tears threatening to spill as you curled into Ross’ side as you looked through the pages of your life with them. This was the sweetest gift. Then you turned the page; causing your head to fly up to stare at them with wide eyes.

“What the fuck is this?!” You gasped.

“You’ve got to that page then?” George laughed as you turned it round to show the rest of them what you were looking at.

The rest of the room started laughing as they clocked eyes on what you were referring too. A page dedicated to four grainy pictures which seem to have been captured on a brick by the quality of them, encapsulating you kissing every single member of the band at some varying stages across your twenty five year friendship.

“What?!” Matty gasped dramatically, “It’s a big part of our story!”

“You’re the worst.” You chuckled. “But I love it. I love you guys so much.” You whispered, holding the gift close to your chest. “Carls, I’m assuming you put this together?”

“I did.” She smiled sweetly before turning towards your lead singer. “But it was Matty’s idea.” Your lip jutted out in a pout as you made eye contact with the singer who was just watching you fondly with a smile on your face before bursting into tears.

“You’re such a soft twat! Come here!” You managed to choke out some form of laugh as he piled on top of you to hug you tightly.

“Right dinner time before I just descend into a puddle of tears!” You announced; ushering them all towards the dining room.

As you settle into your seats; more wine brought out to the table, another round of beers and your starter that the chef had plated up neatly on your kitchen counter. The seven of you tucked in as you settled into easy conversation about what was coming up for you all. The conversation and the wine flowing so easily; you hadn’t even realised that the past hour and a half had already passed and now it was time for you to clear the last of the remaining dishes from the remanence of what was left of your desert.

“I’ll help love.” You heard Ross say quietly; grabbing a couple of plates and following you back into the kitchen, where you quickly dumped everything on the side ready to wash later.

You had settled quickly into each other’s personal space; Ross leaning sideways against the counter you slotted into his his embrace as you filled the sink with hot water. Always finding a way to touch you; whether it was it was on your thigh throughout dinner or now as he watched pop the dishes in the sink to soak, his hand made it’s way into the back pocket of your leather trousers where it stayed as you busied yourself with your chores so you didn’t hate yourself later.

You weren’t even thinking about how five of your closest friends were just metres away in the next room or the fact that they didn’t know you were disgustingly in love with one another and had just bought a house together. They didn’t know you were together full stop but it was so easy to slip into his touch and allow him to bend down and kiss you so softly yet so deeply you could cry about it, whispers of “Happy Birthday Baby.” When the loudest gasp you’ve ever heard echoed through the kitchen.

Springing apart you both looked alarmed at Charli who was holding the empty bottle of wine from the table and gawping at you with her jaw on the floor. The others rushing to the kitchen to see what the commotion was, all of them slightly confused as yourself, Ross and Charli just stared each other out in silence.

“Do you want to share with the rest of the group what you were doing?” Charli challenged you with a cock of her eyebrow.

“The dishes.” You held up your soapy hands for an added nonchalantness flare.

“They were snogging. Ross hand his hand in her pants!” She very aggressively pointed at you, shooting you a dramatic glare.

“Now hold on!” You held you hands out in defence. “He didn’t have his hands in my pants.” You rolled your eyes at her dramatics.

“Sorry. He had his hand in your butt pocket whilst you were snogging.” Charli sarcastically flung her arms (and wine bottle) about.

“So do you make this a regular thing? You know the whole snogging your mates thing?! Care to share the love?” George smirked; leaning his chin on his girlfriend’s head as he watched the both of you squirm under their glare.

The speed in which the both of you denied it was enough for them all to raise their eyebrows at your synchrony and look at you like you were fucking idiots. Matty was the first to speak.

“Did you really think we didn’t know you two were together?”

“What?” You managed to choke out, not ready to let them in on your little secret just yet.

“You guys have been in love with each other for years.” Matty opened his mouth again. “We’ve all got eyes, it was only a matter of time really before you both realised it. So when did this all start?” He asked; a warm smile on his face as his eyes flitted between both you and Ross, who’s arm had slinked its way over your shoulder and you knew everything would be fine with him by your side.

“October.” Ross confirmed.

“You hooked up in October?!” Charli eyes flew wide open. “And you’ve kept it secret this long!”

“Well actually we hooked up years ago!” You shrugged. “But not the point!” You laughed at their gaping expressions. “We got together in October though.” You smiled into his chest. “How did you all figure it out anyway?”

“When we were at George’s for a bbq after lockdown. We were watching you watch the sunset, you were stood just like you are now, wrapped up in each other and I asked Ads if you both knew that you were in love with each other.” Carly beamed brightly at you. “I’m so happy you that you figured it out!”

“She did! I just knew you’d figure it out eventually. That and I saw you sneaking out of the bathroom together at The Brits like three months ago!” Adam grinned as your jaw dropped at his revelation.

“You saw us and didn’t say anything?”

“It’s none of my business!” Adam shrugged; before wrapping his arm around his wife.

"I mean I kind of put things together last year after I found your stuff at Ross' place. I didn't really buy the whole 'sleepover' story when you live less than ten minutes away." George shrugged.

“I knew you were in love back in 2015!” Matty dropped casually making you roll your eyes because there was no fucking way. You didn’t even hook up until 2017 so how could he have known.

“No you didn’t! We didn’t hook up until 2017 so how did ‘you know’ two years prior to that Matthew?”

A round of “2017?!” Rung through your kitchen at your confession making you both laugh but you chose to ignore it when Matty told you how “he knew”

“What do you think the real reason the scene with you in the hot tub got scrapped? You were essentially eye fucking each other the entire time! Looked so sickeningly in love it was a joke. I told them to scrap it to protect the both of you from the internet. Also you should have been looking at me like that you bitch!" He grinned. "You’re already co-dependent on each other so it was basically a matter of time. I’ve just been waiting for it to happen.”

“So you’re not all mad we didn’t tell you?” Ross addressed the group.

“Of course we’re not mad!” Hann; the angel he is spoke up for the collective.

“I mean we’re just glad you grew some balls!” George was next to speak.

“Yeah dude you’ve been in love with her for ages!” Matty laughed; singing at you.

You felt your eyes water as you took in the words of the people who mean the most to you, tell you that they approve of you and Ross. Turning to look up at your boyfriend; you immediately stood on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Insanely happy you didn’t have to hide it anymore. The pair of you giggling against each other as your friends hollered at you as you continued to press your lips together.

Best birthday ever!

#Ross Macdonald #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald x reader #the 1975 #the 1975 imagine #the 1975 fic #the 1975 x reader #matty healy #matty healy imagine #george daniel #george daniel imagine #adam hann #adam hann imagine

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