#sonny starkey

[onsunnyside]

ok so i've been trying to come up with a mafia trope for this ask by the bestie @bimbofawn: now this isn't a full-blown mob fic, but it has a few elements

The Camerons have all the wealth, influence and success anyone can dream of. They come from a long lineage of fame and riches, now running the parent company of many subsidiaries with power all across the country. It's no surprise they're involved in a few shady businesses, yet it's all kept tightly under wraps.

As the heir to a vast dynasty, Rafe grew up under a lot of pressure to be the best in what he does, and his ego is proof of that. He's in the tabloids, the ivy league graduate by day and the wild bachelor by night, landing himself in more scandals than ass-kissing articles.

The Camerons are known for their prestige and (heavily manufactured) picture-perfect image. So Rafe's sleazy, immature behaviour just won't do. Although he's doing good with the shady side of the family business (bc ofc he's into violence and drug trafficking/manufacturing), he needs to do better with the public side. To give his son a motive for cleaning up his act, he gives him an ultimatum: lose it all and get disowned or settle down.

Now, he has a few months to find someone, but his ego won't let him settle for just anyone. The headlines aren't any comfort either: Pleasure Over Business: Is Rafe Cameron responsible for the fall of the Cameron dynasty?

This is very off-to-the-races coded: you drift into his sector on his friend's arm one night. He shrugs you off, expecting there to be a different girl the next time they go to the clubs (because there always is) but nope, you show up again and again.

It’s hard for him to ignore someone so kindhearted and naturally alluring. He can’t look away from you sipping on the straw, your calm gaze locked on his, making him stumble over his words like a teenager with a crush. He dreams of you every time he falls asleep, your pretty face burned on the inside of his eyelids as if you belonged there.

But one night his friend shows up with a different girl.

"Her rates got too high, and my folks were getting suspicious so I had to let her go, unfortunately." He exhales, his arm around the other woman kissing up his neck.

Now, did he predict you were an escort? Not at all. It catches him off guard and he almost spits up his drink. "You paid her to date you?"

Topper glares, "you don't have to say it like that. We did more than just make appearances together if that's what you're asking. All consensual, of course, but you do have to pay extra for private um... sessions."

me senses... a sugar-baby proposition: "I'll take care of everything, all expenses, your rent, and an allowance on top of that. Anything you want you can have."

You're still apprehensive, you've taken clients who've heard of you from word of mouth before, but this was new. They were best friends who routinely saw each other, you'd hate to stir the pot. "Won't it be weird?"

"You with Top was just business and so is what I'm offering." Perhaps that was a little white lie, but you didn't need to know that. "No harm, no foul. In my hands, you could live better than this."

"I like my home." You mutter, hugging a pillow to your chest, it was one of the many mismatched cushions that littered your old couch. "I worked hard to get it this way."

He nudges the wobbly table by the door, the picture frames rattling on the surface. "For thousands of dollars a night, I would've expected some sense of luxury, or a stove with actual knobs." He says and quirks a brow, "where'd all that money go?"

"Oh... I had to give my boss his cut."

"How much is that?"

"80 percent." You admit, ducking away when Rafe frowns, "I know, I know... It wasn't my fault, my daddy—" Your voice cracks, "My daddy got involved with a bad man after he gambled away all our savings and my college fund. And he still couldn't stop after my mama left. I had to—I had to help somehow."

You still remember returning from campus to see him bruised and battered on the living room floor, crying for your mother who was halfway across the world, now a happily divorced woman. The memory brings tears to your eyes and they stream down your cheeks.

Rafe bites his tongue, rethinking his decision to show up here in the first place. Your unlucky life only made you more perfect, and as terrible as it sounded, he knows he won't find anyone more fitting for his circumstances.

He refused to leave until you agreed.

"What's his name?"

You don't hear him over your sniffles and rub your nose into your pillow, "huh?"

He crouches by your feet, placing a hand on your thigh. "What's the big bad man's name, sweetie?"

"Why—Why are you asking..."

The blue in his eyes seems darker, but it could just be the dim lightbulbs you haven’t changed yet. He blinks up at you with thick lashes, a slow smile crawling onto his face.

"I'm going to prove to you that when you're with me, you've got nothing to worry about."

And the next night, he shows up at your door with a fresh bouquet of flowers and bruised knuckles. You don’t get one word out before drops a heavy duffel bag on the floor, “here’s the money you deserve for your work, and extra for your troubles.”

You glance at the bag and then his face, your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. “What—What did you do?”

He smiles, cocking his head to the side. “Nothing you have to worry about, sweetheart.” He says, wiping toothpaste from the corner of your lip. “Now, are you going to invite me in?”

Rafe is very possessive, he doesn’t care that you dated/slept with his friend because you belong to him now. He buys you a gold necklace with his initial on it, parades you around the city for all the nosy paps to see, and brings you home to meet his family. And yes, you do get the gold seal of approval from his father.

well this is just a mash-up of different tropes 🫡 fake relationship, sugar daddy and mob, with rafe's signature "you're mine" mindset. me has a few slutty and soft ideas for this au too hehe

[ludmilachaibemachado]

March 13 to 22, 1965 - Cynthia Lennon, Maureen Starkey and Pattie Boyd accompanied the Beatles to Obertauern, Austria for filming scenes in the snow for the Beatles second movie (tentatively titled at that time as: "Eight Arms to Hold You")🌸🌹🌻

Via Something About the Beatles’ Girls FB🌹

[lgwifey]

can you please write more gene gallagher x reader (romantically) ? it’s soo good 🤍

I’m so sorry it’s been so long, I’m rubbish at actually writing things and I hope that this is romantic-ish enough. I don’t even know if it classifies as fluff but there’s a bit of cute relationships thingies in it … I think ?It’s a bit short but at this point I’m hoping that that’s better than nothing babes xx

sunlight

gene gallagher x starkey!fen!Reader

Warnings : none ? (not proof read)

MASTERLIST

Y/n stumbled into the sunlight illuminated kitchen with a pair of her darkest tinted sunglasses over her eyes and a large T-shirt covering her pyjama shorts.

Her mother sat at the dining table with a scowl on her face as she threw the latest copy of The Daily Mail onto the table.

"Another ?"

Her voice came out grouchy and she slipped the dark glasses off of her face, exposing her eyes to the painful sun.

"Another !"

"It's bad ?"

The girl wasn’t given a verbal response and was left startled when her mother just scoffed and left the room, leaving her to check the front page herself.

"I'm heading to work !"

A pair of shadows appeared from the back garden, slowly approaching the twenty year old with a low whistle.

"Them journalists proper love to stitch you up , don’t they y/n."

She didn't even respond to her older brother as she skimmed her eyes over the horrendous article that had been wrote about her. The heading stood out to her, acid rising to her throat after re-reading it a few times.

Starkey starts Stripping

She didn't want to read the rest of it, having noticed nothing but sexual slurs written a few paragraphs down. She carefully strolled over to the kitchen bin and screwed up the front page, throwing the ruffled paper into the black bag.

Gene dragged himself and his girlfriend into the lounge, slouching them down onto the plush sofa whilst leaving Sonny by himself.

"Just ignore it, yeah. We all have outfit issues from time to time baby, she's just targeting you because you're the most interesting person in this group."

"We both know that’s a lie, and my mum’s gonna murder me."

Worry littered her features as she buried herself into his chest, his hoodie blinding her eyes from all the light of the room.

"She's mad at the journalists, not you, don't worry about that, AND you still managed to carry that whole outfit off when your top broke, which very few people can do .”

She looked up from his hoodie, arms loosening slightly from around him as she adjusted where she was sat, so her legs draped over his.

“I’m actually dating a style icon. Go me .”

The brunette pretended to flip imaginary hair over his shoulders, causing her to laugh and drag herself back into the face of his hoodie .

“You’re so embarrassingggggg!”

“I know.”

He kissed the top of her head lightly before adjusting where her legs where over his, eventually leaving his hand to rest on her thigh after. She just remained slouched into him, both of them hiding from the rest of the world as he tried to help her forget what she’d woken up to.

Y/n drifted off into a light nap with the circles drawn on her back and the soft sound of the tele being were turned on in the background.

She wasn’t ready to wake up, maybe in a few more hours when she could hope that that article had disappeared. Till then she’d stay buried into gene’s side in the pyjamas and no contact to the rest of the world.

[littlequeenies]

July 10, 2002 - Lee and Jason Starkey, with his son Sonny at John Entwistle's funeral at St Edward's Church in Stow-on-the-Wold, Gloucestershire, England.

[krispyweiss]

Jeff Beck’s Final Recording to be Part of Mark Knopfler’s Teen Cancer Charity Single

- New recording of “Going Home (Theme from Local Hero)” will be released March 15 and credited to Mark Knopfler’s Guitar Heroes

Jeff Beck’s final recording - or at least parts of it - will be released March 15 on a new recording of “Going Home (Theme from Local Hero),” which Mark Knopfler spearheaded as a charity single benefitting Teenage Cancer Trust and Teen Cancer America.

Beck is just one of more than 60 musicians - including another Yardbird, a Beatle, a Stone, two Whos, two Eagles, a Black Sabbath and a Pink Floyd, a Genesis, a Lovin’ Spoonful and a Queen, to name a few - who came together, mostly remotely, under the banner of Mark Knopfler’s Guitar Heroes to make the nine-minute recording.

“I think what we’ve had is an embarrassment of riches,” Knopfler said in a news release quoted by NME.

Knopfler teased the track with a 15-second snippet that reveals the familiar melody of the 1983 song, but little else.

In addition to Beck, contributors include Joe Bonamassa, Paul Carrack, Eric Clapton, Ry Cooder, Steve Cropper, Roger Daltrey, Peter Frampton, Audley Freed, Vince Gill, David Gilmour, Buddy Guy, Tony Iommi, Joan Jett, Sonny Landreth, Albert Lee, Greg Leisz, Alex Lifeson, Steve Lukather, Phil Manzanera, Dave Mason, Brian May, John McLaughlin, Tom Morello, Rick Nielsen, Nile Rodgers, Mike Rutherford, Joe Satriani, John Sebastian, Slash, Bruce Springsteen, Ringo Starr and Zak Starkey, Sting, Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks, Pete Townshend, Steve Vai, Waddy Wachtel, Joe Walsh and Ronnie Wood among others.

Produced by Knopfler’s former Dire Straits bandmate Guy Fletcher, the track will be available on vinyl, CD, BluRay, download and streaming.

“What I really want to do, more than anything else, is just to thank each and every one (of the contributors) for this sterling response,” Knopfler said. “I really had no idea that it was going to be like this.”

2/8/24

[sematarygirls]

꒰ if i hope and if i pray, it might work out some day ꒱ 𝅄

 it (2017)

 𖤓 Living Dead Girl: part one , part two

 law and order: special victim's unit

 𖤓 Black Hole Fantasy: here !

 𖤓 God Complex: here !

 svu blurbs, headcanons &&. imagines

 𖤓 Sonny Carisi & Sex Positions: here !

 𖤓 Sonny Carisi Headcanons: here !

 𖤓 More Sonny Headcanons: here !

 𖤓 ADA Sonny Age Gap Headcanons: here !

 𖤓 Calling Sonny "Bro": here !

 𖤓 Sonny Carisi on Friday The 13th: here !

 𖤓 Sonny Carisi Coffee Cart Meetcute: here !

 𖤓 Sonny x Doctor!Reader: here !

 obx blurbs, headcanons &&. imagines

 𖤓 Barry Headcanons: here !

 𖤓 Drew Starkey Pirate Imagine: here !

 𖤓 Frat!Rafe x Radio Reader Blurb: here !

 𖤓 Rafe x Anxious!Reader: here !

 𖤓 Bodyshots With Rafe nsfw: here !

 misc

 𖤓 You Were A Haunted House: here !

 𖤓 You're Not A Dog: here !

      ꒰ i'll never live to match the beauty again ꒱ 𝅄

[enjoying-entertainment]

Sam, Beckett, Elliot, Paul, Reiley, Bailey, Sid, Arthur, and Miller

Barbara and Ringo with their grandchildren. Starting from the front: Tatia, Sonny, Rock (behind Barbara) Louie, Buddy, (arms around Louie), Jakamo, Smokey, and Ruby (next and behind Ringo).

Mary: Arthur, Elliot, Sam, and Sid

Stella: Miller, Bailey, Beckett, and Reiley

Zak: Tatia

Jason: Louie, Sonny, Rock, and Buddy

Lee: Jakamo, Smokey, and Ruby

[rolloroberson]

The Well Read Knight of the Realm, Sir Richard Starkey, circa 1965, photographed during the Help! album sessions. Eat your heart out Sonny Bono.

[truthaboutthebeatlesgirls]

Found great new photos of Pattie Boyd at the San Francisco Art Exchange website:

https://sfae.com/Special-Pages/Search?searchtext=Pattie+Boyd&searchmode=allwords

The top two photos are by Robert Freeman taken in 1966. The bottom composite photo is by Roger Fritz (better quality than I’ve seen before) of Cynthia Lennon, Pattie Boyd, Maureen Starkey and Sonnie Freeman following behind in Austria, March 1965.

[onsunnyside]

yet another prompt from my bestie’s ask: drum roll please (pun intended)… here’s drummer!Rafe

The road to stardom is wild and loud, full of flashing lights and cheering crowds in a new city every night. It's also full of distractions that come in various shapes and colours, whether that be liquor bottles, a white powdery substance, or the endless line of groupies. Rafe and his band are no strangers to indulging in those distractions, the rugged and crazy lifestyle quickly became a part of their rockstar image.

You have a dream to make it big, and to see your name on the silver screen with the generation's greatest. Unfortunately, Hollywood was beyond tough on those who weren't already born within the golden gates. You're a lucky one, with all your hard work and sleepless nights, you go from waitressing and living in a trailer park in L.A. to living comfortably in your dream home with a resume that just keeps getting longer and longer.

You meet Rafe at a mutual friend's party. You've been close with one of his bandmates for a little while, and finally got the opportunity to meet the rest of them.

Your first impressions are awful, to say the least: you were excited to meet the drummer of the famed rock band and have been staring at him all night, working up the courage one smidge at a time. When he slips out the balcony doors, you take your chance.

Rafe's leaning over the railing, cigarette hanging from between his fingers as he types on his phone. When you step beside him, he glances at you, blue eyes lazily dragging over your figure.

"I thought groupies weren't allowed in here."

You stand there dumbfounded, jaw on the floor as he blows the smoke.

"I'm not—"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh, "don't tell me you're a friend of a friend, or a classmate from childhood, or someone's long-distance girlfriend. I've heard it all, trust me."

You cross your arms, heat filling your chest, "Do you talk to everyone like that?"

"Just those who deserve it." His voice is low, "Beat it, sweetheart. You don't want to get thrown out and risk ruining that pretty dress, now do you?"

You don't know what his problem was. For someone so loved and adored, he was a fucking asshole. You supposed that's the lovely work of PR teams, they can make even the cruellest monsters into angels. Hell, even your team worked tirelessly to maintain your image.

"You're still here? Don't you have a security guard to blow, or a tour bus to break into?" He asks condescendingly, hair falling over his forehead as he leans down, studying you with that stupid smirk. “Who are you fucking, huh? Is it one of the desperate socialites, or the wannabe models?”

His laugh breaks into a shout when your drink splashes on his face, the alcohol dripping down his chin to his chains and silk blue shirt, "what the fuck—"

You don't stay long enough to hear his curses and return to the penthouse, promising yourself to never speak to him again.

I'm sensing... hate fucking: his hand is over your mouth and you're pressed against the tiled wall, dress hiked up and legs around his waist. The party rages on inside the club, hopefully still lively enough that no one will notice your absence. Tonight was for you to celebrate your first big award win, you didn't know Rafe was coming with your mutual friend, and you'd die before admitting that you're glad he did.

You can't help your moans, his cock effortlessly hitting your sweet spot with every rock. He fills you so deeply, stretching your hole with his fat girth, and it pains you to know that he's ruined you for anyone else. You just know you'll be a limping mess.

"Shut up. God, you never fucking shut up." He grunts, his hand falling to your throat, "You wanna get caught? Want everyone to know you're fucking a... what is it you called me?"

He grinds into you and you gasp, gaze locked on his lips. He was a great kisser, the best you've ever had, but you'd never tell him that, just like how you refused to ask for another.

"A-An ungrateful prick."

His eyes gleamed dangerously, sweat brimming at his brow, "Yeah, that's it. I bet you're grateful I didn't leave when you told me to."

He keeps you pinned to the wall with his hips and his other hand slips where you meet. His skillful fingers toy with your needy bundle and your body convulses, your juices nearly dripping down his length.

"And you said I never shut up."

A harsh slap lands on your clit and your choked whimper turns into a loud whine when he repeats the action again, harder this time. The lewd sounds of your wetness bounce off the washroom walls. If you had any shame left, it was gone now, tucked in his pocket with your torn underwear.

"You'll be on your knees and thanking me by the end of the night. I can promise you that."

I can only imagine how nasty drummer!Rafe is 😮‍💨 the kinks, the spitting, the choking, the messy "let me fuck my cum back into you," the tasteful nude polaroids, and wiping your tears when you cum so hard you cry, "that's it. let it out, baby. such a good girl for daddy."

Can't forget about the disgusting lyrics he'd write about you (ofc there are sweet ones too but that's not until later), telling the whole world how much he loves the way you taste and feel, how you're his filthy little angel and that you bring him closer to heaven with your body.

Oh the sexting !! When he's on tour and you're working, it's hard to make time for each other. Sometimes he'll send you a picture of his hard bulge through his jeans with a cheeky "wish you were here." When you win another big award (and inevitably become a style icon overnight bc of your dress), he sends flowers, cute lil note, and ofc, a nut video with sound 😌 "the next time I see you, I'm fucking you in that dress."

[ludmilachaibemachado]

March 13 to 22, 1965 - Cynthia Lennon, Maureen Starkey and Pattie Boyd accompanied the Beatles to Obertauern, Austria for filming scenes in the snow for the Beatles second movie (tentatively titled at that time as: "Eight Arms to Hold You")🌸🌹🌻

Via Something About the Beatles’ Girls FB🌹

[lgwifey]

PHOTOSHOOT

crush!gene gallagher x fem!reader

lennon gallagher x bff!reader

Summary : Y/n had been friends with Lennon Gallagher for as far back as she could remember and she'd had a crush on his younger brother for a good proportion of her teenage years. When a quick job comes up, y/n finds Gene being the only help she can get. Will the alone time bring about something between the two ?

Warning : not proof read.

MASTERLIST

2021

Y/n had had a crush on her bestfriend's brother for at least five years.

He was a year younger than her, four inches taller and had messy, mousy brown hair, a feature which was a stark contrast to his eye blue eyes and pale skin. The perfect photography model in her mind.

As much as she loved them, those eyes had been the thing to get her into this mess to start with !

"Lens please !"

Pleading was not her strong point, slapping her friend around the head intill he gave up his denying on the other hand...

" 'm sorry y/n/n but i've got prior comitments, and these guys are actully paying me so."

"I pay you in friendship !"

"Friendship isn't accepted in my morgage contract y/n/n. Look i've gotta go but i'm sure Gene wouldn't mind doing some modeling for you. Plus, he'll probably just do it for a big mac instead of a meal out at Harrods."

With that, he hung up the call. He hung up on her !

Y/n threw her phone down onto the ruffled up, baby blue bedding. She wouldn't usually object to using Gene as her model, sometimes she didn't even need to get him a big mac, just some fries and a coke would be sufficient for him most of the times when she appeared out of nowhere and asked for a short notice shoot.

She was a photographer for a late teens magazine and her boss had asked of she could get some shots in a lockdown style, but that meant that her plan had been to get pictures of Lennon lounging about on her carefully layed out mess set, which was also her bedroom. The plan for the lockdown memorbilia shoot was to have her bestie in joggers, hair messy and shirt thrown on the floor whilst he layed and prettily watched tele on her laptop. There was no way she'd let Gene into her bedroom, nevermind letting him into her bedroom being shirtless.

She bit her cheek hard, a look of complain filling her eyes.

She needed these pictures, she could be fired if she didn't get them for the article.

After a good half an hour of thought, she decided that having to be with Gene by herself was the latter of two evils, being fired was not something she wanted to be dealing with right now.

Another five minutes was used up by her trying to find courage within herself to actually ring Gene, texting wasn't one of her strong points.

An agonising four rings echoed slower than a tortoise, her lip being bit nervously by her teeth. The phone suddenly picked up a gruff voice.

"What ?"

Y/n was taken back by the grumpy shout being the first thing said. She took a deep breath in and gave a nervous 'ha'

"Urm, hi Gene ?"

She could hear ruffleing on the other side, his voice suddenly becoming nicer.

"Oh hi Y/n/n. Sorry, I thought you would be Lennon. What's up ?"

Why would she be Lennon ? Anyways,

"Oh not much. I was just wondering if you'd be cool for coming over to mine today. I know it's short notice, like really short notice, but I kinda need help with a photoshoot."

She could hear more ruffleing around and a cough before he spoke again, stuttering over his words for some reason.

"Urm yeah that's fine, fine by me like i've nothing on. Urm, urm what time do you need me over by ?"

"Anytime from now to seven would be good if that's alright ? Oh and could you also bring some lounge clothes ? It's a lockdown themed shoot."

A hum came through from Gene, also the sound of a door opening and beung slammed shut before the sound of it opening again.

"Yep, okay. Is it okay if i'm over in like, I don't know like a hour ?"

"Yeah that'll be perfect. Thanks so much Gene, you're literally a life saver."

A laugh echoed through the speakers.

"Okay dokey, I'll see you at Eleven then. Bye !"

A 'see yah' was muttered over before y/n hung up. She instantly started cursing herself for hanging up too quickly, slamming her head against a door.

Gene was slouched on one of his mate's bedroom couches having a fifa tornament against Noah when his phone started viberating next to him, the screen lighting up with a background picture of his halfbrother's bestfriend which he'd screen shotted from her Whatsapp profile.

He paused the game, a complaint from Noah sounding, and answered the call, expecting Lennon to have lost his phone or left it at their dad's or something Lennon-like like that.

"What ?"

"urm, hi Gene. "

His face danced on a boarderline white tone when the voice coming through was y/n's, aka the girl he'd been pratically in love with since he was ten. She was a year older than him and was literally the perfectest person he'd ever seen. The way her y/h/l y/h/c hair always seemed to look perfect, evwn on your bad hair days when he'd seen you around his dad's to probably bully Lennon. The way her eyelashes curled naturally. The way she teased his brother with him. Perfect all round.

"Oh hi Y/n/n. Sorry, I thought you would be Lennon. What's up ?"

No ! Why did he call you y/n/n ?! His vouce was all crackleing with surprise, causing Noah to take more interest in his conversation.

"Oh not much. I was just wondering if you'd be cool for coming over to mine today. I know it's short notice, like really short notice, but I kinda need help with a photoshoot."

"Urm yeah that's fine, fine by me like i've nothing on."

Noah shot him an offended look, gesturing vigerously to the half played football match plastered on the tele. He ended up punching his friend in the stomach to stop him being a distraction.

"Urm, urm what time do you need me over by ?"

"Anytime from now to seven would be good if that's alright ? Oh and could you also bring some lounge clothes ? It's a lockdown themed shoot."

So he needed to run to his mum's seeing how she lived closest to Noah, take the quickest shower known to mankind and get changed into something nice as well as taking a change of clothes with him, probably just a pair of joggers and a band tee, before getting you y/n's. That made her seem so much older than him, she was a proper adult, with her own actual home and a morgage !

He jumped out of his seat, grabbing the backpack he'd thrown on Noah's bed and noting to his mate that he was leaving. Just as soon as he shut his friend's bedroom door and started rushing down the staircase, Noah started following with an eagerness to learn what Gene was so quick to leave for all of a sudden.

"Yep, okay. Is it okay if i'm over in like, I don't know like a hour ?"

"Yeah that'll be perfect. Thanks so much Gene, you're literally a life saver."

He illuminated a rose shade at her words. She thought he was a life saver.

"Okay dokey, I'll see you at Eleven then. Bye !"

"See yah."

The mulletted model followed his friend down the stairs, confusion on his face.

"Gene where are you going mate ?"

"Y/n needs me help."

Noah rolled his eyes as his friend slammed the front door closed, the fuzzy figure through the window of the white plastic making it's way down the drive and past the metal gate. Gene had been head over heels Lennon's friend for as long as he could remember and he'd recently found him ditching him and Sonny more and more to 'help' the photographer.

All that could be seen in y/n's flat was a blur of human running around like a headless chicken.

She hadn't accounted in time for cleaning all her stuff up from the livingroom and kitchen seeing how Lennon couldn't care less if he tryed. But for Gene, she needed to look put together.

Her clean washing was actually put away in their draws. The dishes where washed and put away. The couch was hoovered !

Her phone buzzed before 'Bye Bye Bye' started playing, her alarm to go and get Gene some food. She had his order saved on her notes due to how often she'd go to the fast food resteraunt for the boys.

The trip was nothing less than heptic; tazi being late, rain being on and off, McDonalds being stacked to the brim with bratty teenagers, the advoidance of the chav spiecies. When y/n made it to her floor's door she found a tall figure in blue jeans and a the Undertones tee, a bag thrown over his shoulders and a blue adidas hoodie hanging around his waist.

"Sorry i'm late, didn't want you to starve."

He gave a low chuckle as she bumped past him with a brown paper bag, the yellow 'm' standing out, and unlocked the door with the Belle key. He still found it adorable that she couldn't tell her keys apart so always got them cut out of different disney characters, her key for Lennon's was Tramp.

"Don't fuss, i've literally just got here."

That was a blatent lie, he'd been stood outside playing flappy bird for eight minutes.

He shut the door behind him whilst y/n put he food bag on the top of the kitchen counter. Gene let his eyes wonder around her place, he only came occationally with Lennon but he always love how she couldn't not change everything around at least once a month.

"Tea ?"

"If you're making one."

"Gene-o, i'm always making one."

As she pushed the button down on the kettle, he started raiding the bag. He always found it amazing how she got his order spot on every time.

As blue light flowed through the clear machine, water jumping about, y/n sat herself on the counter opposite Gene, beging to explain the consept of the photoshoot.

"So it's basically you taking photos whilst I be lazy ?"

"Basically."

"Fun."

Just as the conversation began to become awkward, the ping from the kettle allowed y/n to change topic.

"Sugar right ?"

"Yeah, one."

She gave a nod. She knew he had sugar. She'd already put it in the ceramic blue mug.

Y/n was a hour into the shoot with Gene, her camera swinging a bit on her neck as she adjusted the bleach blonde's hair.

Gene forced his face to not turn hot pink as y/n moved him in small amounts between each dozen photos. She had a weird affect on him, a dizzy affect which sent him crazy.

"Gene-o ."

She gave a when as his hair fell on his face just after she'd fixed it for the angle she was working on at the moment.

He loved how she said his name, the nickname that only she was allowed to call him. Lennon had tryed it once and ended up in A&E for the night with a broken nose, but she didn't need to know that.

She flopped onto the bed, it being big enough that she wasn't too close to him that she'd break out in a blush. When she did so, the nineteen year old found his way out of the uncomfortable position of being leant up on his elbows.

"Think it's time for a break ?"

Her y/e/c irises looked up as her head tilted, find thing she met was his pale, almost ice like, blue eyes. She immeduatly headbutted back into the matress so he wouldn't catch her blush.

"Break time then."

He finished the conversation by himself, clapping his hands and going to get his now cold maccies chips.

When y/n had worked up the energy to move, the two ended up slouched on her lip shaped couch watching one of the greatest british t.v. shows know to mankind, Jeremy Kyle.

"D'ya think,"

Y/n turned to face Gene, the tele becoming background noise to their conversation.

"If your dad wasn't famous, you'd be on this ?"

"Oh definitly, 100%"

With his family's lay out there was no way he wouldn't be on it.

"What about you ?"

Y/n thought about his question, tilting her head slightly and biting her lip. Her mum had had four kids with three different men, one set of twins. Y/n was the youngest and the only girl. She had one sibling that wasn't her mum's, her youngest brother. He was her half-brother and her uncle so there was no way she would be able to escape the program. Long story short, her dad wanted to piss her mum off so got with y/n's nan. Her nan was only fifthteen years older than her mum and her dad was eight years older than her mum so they actually made a decent couple, y'know minus the already kinda being related thing.

"Defo."

As Gene went to go and turn on a new episode seeing how the credits had started rolling, he catched y/n's eyes again.

The action brought them both weak. Y/n couldn't help herself at that point. It was like a magnet was pulling her towards him. As their lips slowly attatched themselves to each other.

She didn't know if she was suposed to stop seeing how she didn't react much. He didn't do anything when their eyes met, his arctic ones hitting hers, nor when she held his jaw softly and depthened the kiss.

After a good ten seconds she pulled away, looking forwards to see the star-eyed man looking off into thin air.

"Sorry, about that Gene-o ."

"No, no don't apologise."

Y/n was about to question why she shouldn't apologise when his action answered her.

She felt his hands fall onto her waist and a force pull her back towards the other body on the art accessory couch.

[cynthialennon-daily]

Cynthia Lennon, Pattie Boyd, Sonnie Freeman, and Maureen Starkey Skiing in Austria during The Filming of Help! 1965 

[nb-thingz]

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