#the oral fixation is fucking raging y’all

[sleepysuccubi]

alright, come close, let me show you everything i know

[99hook]

One & Only

Synopsis: He swears he doesn’t care but his actions prove otherwise.

Warnings: FWB situation, Cursing, angst, unprotected sex, angry sex, degradation kink, choking, creampie, daddy kink, oral sex (female receiving), then there’s lots of fluff towards the end.

In other words, 18+

A/N: I’ve been working on this for a good minute now and I think she’s finally readyyy! I hope y’all love it. (If you have a thing for jealous, protective Hook (Tyler), you’ll definitely love it.) enjoy babes & Happy 4th if you celebrate!!

“I didn’t know there were a whole bunch of rules to this!” You shouted from where you stood in the kitchen of Tyler’s hotel room. He had his back turned staring out the sliding glass doors that overlooked Chicago. “I thought we were both just having a good time.”

Tyler didn’t have enough composure to be able to respond right away. As soon as he saw you and whoever that dude was at the bar with his hand on your thigh, he could only see burning red and with every single word that comes out of your mouth, all he can think about is how that dude tried to slide his hand underneath your dress, and how you probably would have let him do it if Tyler wouldn’t have grabbed the poor guy’s wrist and nearly snap it in half.

“And besides, you really have no right to be mad right now.” You were slurring your words and Tyler could practically tell the level of alcohol running through your blood just by the way you’re talking. “It’s not like I let that guy fuck me.”

Tyler whipped around with eyes of fury. His jaw was set and brows knitted so tightly together. Rage was the only emotion he was showing even though deep down inside, he was feeling far more than just that. “Didn’t look like you were making any effort to stop him when he tried to basically finger fuck you in the middle of the bar!” His voice boomed through the room, surely everyone on the nineteenth floor knew what happened tonight, at this point.

“That never would have happened.” You crossed your arms in an attempt to hold your ground, even though it became increasingly more difficult as the room started to spin. “I just don’t understand how you can get so mad. I don’t get mad when all those bitches in your phone send you pictures of their nasty asses!” You noticed the throbbing of Tyler’s jaw. His narrowed eyes averted to the floor before he ran his clammy hand through his wildly disheveled hair and muttered barely loud enough for you to hear, “It’s not the same.”

He stepped out on the balcony and slammed the glass door shut. You stared at him through the large window as he leaned against the railing and looked down on the dimly lit city. Tyler knew that he didn’t have solid ground to stand on in this situation. You weren’t his girlfriend, or anything official besides a fuck buddy. He knew you didn’t have to be loyal to him in any sense, but the thought of you with anybody else? Just the mere thought was enough to make him want to break necks.

The door slid opened behind him and your light footsteps patted against the cemented floor of the balcony. Tyler kept his eyes fixated on a taxi parked outside that bar the two of you never should’ve went to, in his opinion. You tip-toed over to him and leaned your elbows against the railing. You followed his gaze down to the city street below but it was nothing but a blur of swirling lights to you.

An elongated sigh slipped through Tyler’s nose and caught your attention. You turned to look at him, his jaw still set and eyes not even daring to look at you. He was infuriated with no real right to be, but if there’s one thing that you did know above all else, it’s that you love getting him riled up more than you would ever truly admit. Something about the way his jaw could cut like glass and his eyes feel like they practically spear your soul is something you can’t help yourself over.

There was an ache between your thighs and an increasing wetness already soaking through the thin fabric of your panties and the need for him was stronger than you could bare. If you knew anything, it was that you and Tyler were better at communicating in any way, shape or form other than actually talking, and you didn’t want to waste any time trying to get a point across to him any other way other than the best way you know works.

You grabbed Tyler’s arm, expecting him to stiffen up but to your surprise, he didn’t. You picked it up and slid between him and the balcony railing and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Tyler’s dark eyes were staring intensely into yours, and it was clear he was still furious, and the thought of that guy’s hand on your bare thigh was probably driving him insane but he couldn’t deny that he had an idea on how to release all of anger and it starts and ends with you.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You bat your lashes as your nails rake through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I guess I shouldn’t let anyone touch me but you.” He knew that you knew what you were doing, but he was quickly becoming putty in your hands at the feeling of your nails scratching through his hair, your innocent looking eyes staring up into his and the pet name that you know drives him crazy falling from your lips. All he can think about is bending you over that railing and making you scream his name to the entire city of Chicago.

He was trying hard to recollect his thoughts but the second you grabbed a hold to his broad shoulders and lifted yourself up to sit on the railing, then proceeded to latch your plump, warm lips to his neck he was absolutely done for. His arms instinctively wrapped around your back so there wasn’t a chance you’d fall nineteen stories down and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you sucked on the one sweet spot Tyler had right below his ear.

“Don’t know why I bothered anyway.” You whispered against his skin. “Nobody can do what you do to me. Nobody’s ever came close.”

There was an urgent need for you arousing at an incomprehensible pace and the fully hardened bulge of his sweatpants was proof of it. One of his hands kept you pressed against his chest and balanced on the railing while the other one found it’s way to your thigh and you instantly spread as far as you possibly could the second his calloused fingers met with your silky skin.

“You still let that dude touch you.” Tyler groaned, his voice raspy and sore from the yelling and the alcohol. “Still let him think he could have you. Let him think he could do this-“ a harsh squeeze to your thigh earns a whimper to fall from your lips and buzz against his neck. “Such a little fucking tease.”

You were sure you were dripping to the floor at this point. Tyler had so much agitation built up from the events of the night and he just wanted you to understand it. “Still don’t ever wanna see any other motherfucker touch you like that again.”

Your head was swimming and you knew it wasn’t the liquor doing it anymore. Tyler’s words echoed through your ears and only left you dripping for him, impatiently waiting for him to do what he does best to you.

“Never again.” Tyler’s large hand squeezes your thigh again, earning another whimper to slip past your lips. You pulled back and brushed your nose against his. “Never again.” You repeated. “Can I show you how sorry I am, daddy? Please?”

“No.” Tyler’s voice was like ice in your blood. “You’re not sorry yet.”

He grabbed both of your hands that were wrapped around his neck and brought them to his shoulders instead. “Hold onto me, I mean it.” He demanded before he lowered himself, kneeling down until he was level with the view of your drenched panties peeking out from under your short dress.

You gripped his shoulders anticipating the feeling he was all too good at indulging you in. “Look at me. Don’t take your eyes off of me.” He demanded again. His eyes stayed trained on you, taking into account every single movement you made, every little change to your facial expression, he loved watching what he was doing to you all the while making you watch him do it.

His palms roamed over the tops of your thighs before he slid them up to your hips, pulling the dress up with it. There was a thrill being nineteen stories high, exposed with a city below you. There was something strong brewing within you that had you moaning before he even fully touched you and Tyler absolutely lived for that affect he had on you.

His devilishly dark eyes were burning a hole as he held them on you. You felt the tips of two of his fingers skim down the fabric of your panties and a cocky smirk played on his lips. “Being a little tease must turn you on.” He slowly slid his fingers back up, then back down over the lacy fabric, reveling in the way your chest was already heaving and broken moans were falling into the air.

“I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea.” Tyler shakes his head as a low chuckle slips past his lips. “I think you should know by now that if anyone knows how to tease, it’s always been me.”

You knew exactly what that meant and you felt your stomach twist the minute the realization hit you. Tyler had the willpower and the stamina that was nearly otherworldly. When he really wants to, he can easily have you pleading and begging him to stop teasing you. He loves it, probably more than he loves anything else. The way your frustration sends his name flying through the air, bouncing off walls of wherever you two decide to be at for the time being. The sweat that soaks his bedsheets every time he’s done riling you up and finally decides you’ve been tortured enough. He loves it and you knew it.

Your nails dig into the thick bands of muscle on his shoulder blades when you feel his finger tip lightly graze your clit without the fabric of your panties in between. Tyler watched your mouth fall open and your thighs jolt at the feeling and he smirks to himself because he knows he hasn’t even done anything yet.

The moon above illuminates you just enough for him to see every little reaction he pulls from you. He glides the tip of his rough middle finger down from your clit to your throbbing entrance but doesn’t allow it to go any farther especially when you buck your hips foward in a silent plead.

You feel his free hand grip your thigh hard enough to likely leave his finger prints embedded into your skin. You were already heaving above him, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he barely allowed you to have anything at all from him.

“Tyler” you moaned out, “please don’t do this to me”

Your desperation and your neediness was music to his ears. He glided his finger back up your slit, collecting all of your sweet juices that slid down the length of his finger and dripped onto the cement below. He pressed the pad of his digit to your clit and held it there, refusing your attempts to make him do anything more.

“I haven’t done anything yet, angel.” The pet name Tyler only used in a condescending way such as when he’s fucking the shit out of you and forcing the dirtiest words to bounce off the walls, or when your throat is being stuffed with his length and even in the filthiest state he could possibly have you in, all he can think to call you is just that. His angel.

“You’re teasing me.” You sigh as your neck rolls and you face towards the open sky above.

Your head immediately snaps back down and a loud, strained gasp flies through your lips when you felt two of Tyler’s long fingers enter you and curl against your g-spot harshly. “I said keep your eyes on me.”

He pumped your sweet spot with a force that had your stomach curling into the most pleasurable knots. A feeling of euphoria found it’s way into you, settling in your veins and rushing through your hot blood like a high you never wanted to come down from. You did everything you could to keep your eyes from closing, or rolling, or anything other than what Tyler told you because you knew the consequences if you disobeyed him in a mood that he’s in.

Tyler’s eyes never once falter from your flustered face as he watches your brows knit and your teeth sink into your bottom lip hard enough to turn the pink flesh white. Your back arches as his fingers thrust even faster and he takes his free hand and wraps it around your back to keep you steady before he draws closer and blows hot air over your throbbing clit.

It brings him the most pleasure just seeing you coming undone before him. He takes pride in knowing your body better than anyone probably ever has or will. He knows all your little sweet spots and all the ways to make you come around his fingers, his cock, his tongue or anything else you two decide on at the time. He knows how to make tears prick the corner of your eyes and how to make you scream his name until your throat is sore. He knows how to make you plead for more and beg him to stop when the pleasure is too much for you to bare. And he wants to make damn sure nobody ever gets the chance to learn your body, to admire every part of you the way he does.

His eyes stay trained solely on you as his tongue flicks your clit in an agonizingly slow manner. You were probably drawing blood on his shoulders even through his hoodie with how hard you were gripping them. Tyler felt the burning sensation every time you clawed him and he loved it. He loves when you leave red scars all down his back and his arms, and when your nails leave indents on his skin for hours afterwards. Loves it so much he might get it tatted one day.

“Fuck, Tyler please” you beg, your thighs clenched around his head in hopes that you’d hold him right where you needed him but all it took was for his elbow to push them apart again. He pulled both fingers out of you and took that hand to keep your thigh pressed against the balcony railing, focusing solely on your pulsating bundle of nerves instead.

“Hold on tighter” he rasped as he gripped your thigh with one hand and pressed the other into your lower back since he knows how you like to arch that back when the orgasm rips through you. When you adjusted your grip on his shoulders you felt his plump lips latch around your clit and he immediately started sucking in a steady pattern that had you seeing more than just the stars of the sky above you.

You couldn’t contain the moans and whimpers slipping past your lips especially when he groaned against you, shaking his head from side to side as if you were his last meal on earth and he needed to absolutely devour every last inch of you.

“Bet that stupid motherfucker at the bar was thinking he’d be able to do this.” Tyler groaned against your heat. “Taste you like this.” He flicks his tongue over your clit as he cups his lips around it, sucking and flicking his tongue in a repetitive motion. “Should’ve done more than break his wrist now that I think about it. Something worth getting thrown out the bar for.”

Tyler’s words are muffled against you, his saliva and your juices intermingled as they slide down his chin. You are starting to hear a ringing in your ears the more his tongue works it’s magic on you. Coupling that with Tyler’s fingertips digging into the skin of your thigh and the reverberations of his raspy voice as he mutters against your hot center is enough for you to cry out to the heavens above and the city below.

“Fuck Tyler, please don’t stop I’m so close!” You didn’t even recognize your voice at this point and neither did he. For a split second he thought about doing the little trick he always does when you’re about to come on his face, knowing how crazy it drives you but then he decides, right before your high rips through you like a tidal wave, that you’re not sorry enough yet.

As soon as the warmth envelops you and your eyes involuntarily roll back due to that delightful sensation buzzing through your body that’s so close to reaching an all time high, Tyler stops everything all at once and watches as your thighs tremble in despair for that euphoric feeling that was ripped away from you in a split second.

“Did you really think I was going to just let you have it like that? After everything you did tonight?” He chuckles darkly, only making you throb and your walls clench painfully around nothing. You couldn’t lie, you loved when Tyler’s condescending side came out to play. Especially when it’s so clearly paired with jealousy he always swears he never has.

He rose to his feet and gripped your hips tightly, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip as the flavor of you sank into his tastebuds. “I’m gonna make sure you know I’m the only one that can ever make you feel this fucking good.” His low voice breaks through the night air, sending shivers to skate down your whole body before his large hand wraps around your neck and his lips crash into yours.

Your eyes rolled back as soon as his tongue surpassed your lips. Your sweetness mixes with tinges of liquor and spearmint as his tongue collides with yours. His fingers and thumb gently squeezed the sides of your neck sending a warmth to roll through your blood and the moan that left your lips only found itself caught in his throat.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours, noses brushing as you both caught your breaths. “Turn around and bend your ass over this rail.” He groaned as he let you go. You slid off the top of the railing and did exactly as he told you. You were on your tip toes in anticipation as you painfully awaited him. You heard rustling behind you before you felt his swollen tip at your entrance.

Tyler bent over your body and his lips found your neck, where he took his time peppering hot kisses and small nibbles of his sharp teeth all the while his hand holds his shaft as he glides his length up and down your slit. The wetness could make him come right then and there but that’s not what the goal was to him. This was about proving a point you’d never forget in your lifetime.

His lips lingered over the shell of your ear, hot breath tickling your skin as he whispers, “Don’t you dare hold back on me when I finally give you what you want. When I’m done with you the whole city better know who’s fucking you this good. Understand me?”

You nodded in a needy manner, but that wasn’t nearly enough for him. His hand slapped down on your right ass cheek, surely leaving a red print in its place for days ahead. “Words, Y/N.”

You winced at the pain that quickly morphed into pleasure and out came, “yes, Tyler I understand!”

“Not Tyler.” He slapped down on your reddened skin again.

“Daddy! I understand daddy!” You corrected yourself, and it was then that you felt him crash into you without any warning, pushing his cock fully in and filling you in a way that only he has ever been able to do. You dropped your head and let a breath of both relief and frustration out. Tyler held still until he felt you relax around him, and no matter what kind of sex was being had, whether one of you were angry or not, he always made the point to take care of you.

“Whenever you’re ready, angel.” He breathily sighed behind you, his thumbs gently stroking the exposed skin of your hips. You nodded and picked your head up, pushing back against him as a silent signal that you were more than ready, and Tyler, knowing your body so well, knew what it meant.

He pulled out of you, leaving only his tip at your entrance for a few seconds before he slammed back in, pulling a series of whines from you that he wished he could listen to day and night. Your hands gripped the railing and his gripped your hips as he did everything he could not to come inside you right then and there. His teeth clenched behind his lips as he pulled back out of you just to drive back in again, and each time you made a different sound, let out a different whine or moan but he still didn’t hear what he wanted to hear.

His hand wrapped around the disheveled locks of your hair and pulled your head back. He folded over you again, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear before he rasped, “Remember what I told you?” His voice alone made you clench around him and he groaned when he felt it. “I want this whole fucking city to know my name.” He thrusted a little faster, banging into your g-spot each time.

“Fuck Tyler” you moaned as best as you could.

“Louder!”

“Tyler!” You shout, your voice strained but it surely echoes. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and it didn’t take a genius to know people were probably on their way to work right now. A lot of people were probably going to hear but at this point you didn’t care at all. All you cared about was what he was doing to you.

Tyler let go of your hair and found your hands instead. Your fingers spread and his fit in the spaces as he picked up the pace. He dropped his head to your back and peppered sloppy kisses to your warm skin, muttering against you, “You feel incredible, angel.” But you didn’t hear over your own broken moans and whimpers.

You felt that feeling that you’d been chasing after crash into you without a warning at all. Suddenly you were seeing white behind your eyelids and your knees buckled in, but Tyler was quick to grab your hips and steady you. Your walls throbbing around him were what drove him over the edge, and before he knew it his hips were stuttering and a low groan flew through the air before you felt his warmth fill you to the brim.

The feeling had you collapsing against the railing as pure ecstasy coursed through your body. After Tyler pulled out he slid his sweatpants back up to his hips and leaned back to admire the mess he’s made of you. You were attempting to catch your breath, hair sprawled every which way as you leaned over the railing.

Tyler pulled your dress back down and brushed the hair out of your face. He took a second to really look at you. To him, you’re always so beautiful in moments like this when your hair is a wild mess and your cheeks are tinted pink. He loves afterglow on you almost as much as he loves being the one to make you look like that.

He smirked down at you, his dimples showing as he did so. Hair was stuck to his forehead by the sweat he worked up and his eyes were low and hazy when you looked at him but he had never looked better. You chuckled lightly and shook your head as you managed to somehow stand straight up, even though you were a bit wobbly at the knees.

Tyler grabbed both of your shoulders and steadied you. “You ready for round two?” He smirked down at you, laughing when he saw your eyes widen instantly. He shook his head. “I’m just playing. You ready to get some sleep? I can tell you are. You’re all fucked out.”

“You look so proud to say that.”

“I am.” His sleepy eyes flickered from yours to your lips.

It may not have been the perfect time to address it but you knew it needed to be. After the events of the night and Tyler breaking some guys wrist for just simply touching you, it was time to clear the air and you both knew it. You couldn’t fuck things out forever.

“You know what happened?” You asked as you took a seat in the outdoor chair, and Tyler followed your actions as he leaned against the glass door. “What happened?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think we fucked this whole friends with benefits thing up.” You admitted, feeling a tinge of heat underneath your cheeks. For some reason it was all too easy to give Tyler any and every part of your body but admitting your feelings was horribly difficult.

Tyler was silent for a couple of tense seconds, his lips folded underneath his teeth as he contemplated what he should say. Finally, he inhaled a deep breath and nodded his head. “I think we fucked that up from the start.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I caught feelings before I even knew your last name.”

He was unashamed to admit it and the boldness had you ready to jump on him and fuck until the sun went down. You knew you had feelings for Tyler too but to actually admit that felt terrifying considering you never wanted to give your heart to anybody after what you’ve been through in the past. Somehow between agreeing to be fuck buddies and now, you have confessed your whole life to Tyler. He’s the only person who knows you just as well as you know yourself. The only one to know your past and your struggles. Any secrets and desires. You gave your heart to him a long time ago but somehow you’re just now realizing it.

“You never told me.” You lowly whisper.

“You would have broke my heart if I told you.” He steps closer and brushes a piece of hair off of your shoulder before cupping your chin and raising your head. He then kneels down before you, his eyes roaming over every inch of your face, as if he’s deciding where to plant his lips and settles on your forehead.

“We don’t have to do this right now. Let’s go to bed. Together.” He offers his hand and you take it, and wordlessly the two of you find yourselves underneath the bed sheets in a different way. It was all too easy to wrap your arms around Tyler’s bare torso and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rythum of his heartbeat and occasionally tracing the outline of his tattoos.

There was a lot that probably needed to be said but the only thing that Tyler decided on was the only thing you really needed to hear.

“Ever since I met you, it’s only been you.” He whispers as his fingers lazily play with the ends of your hair. “You’re my one and only.”

You feel your heart flutter at that, and when he places a kiss to the top of your head. “Get some sleep, angel.” He whispers before he wraps his hand around your back. Before you drifted off into sleep you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Ty.” You barely whispered and laid your head back on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven

summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.

warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique​ ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four | five | six

i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’

“Well, it is a flattering picture.”

You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…

The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.

“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.

“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”

George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.

“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”

“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.

“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.

You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????

Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”

Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”

“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.

“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.

“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”

“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.

Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...

“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”

“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.

Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.

“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”

“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”

At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.

“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”

Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.

“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”

George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.

“You tell ‘em, babe.”

The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.

“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.

For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.

“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.

“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”

“Same.”

“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.

“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.

“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”

He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.

After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?

Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…

And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.

“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”

You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”

John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”

“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”

“Professor Pang fucked me.”

“WHAT—”

“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.

“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”

“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”

“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.

You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.

***

Your second exam the next day goes miserably.

Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.

Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.

You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.

That all goes away when you open the door.

John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—

“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”

—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.

“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.

“What are you two doing?”

“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.

“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”

You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…

“Where’s George?”

This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.

“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,

“He went to visit his mum!”

Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”

You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.

“Yup,” John says.

“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”

“Yuuup.”

You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”

“Yuuuuuuuuu—”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.

“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.

You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.