#{ smutty smut smut with a touch of angst that we're not getting into rn - just sweep that shit right under the rug it's fine }

[complicitsacrilege-rp]

A drabble to answer some of those long-lost memes in my inbox ~ @vampyrebond

STABBY STAB MEME BUT MAKE IT LESTAT WALKING IN ON LOUIS

Lestat had left the townhouse in a right state of frustration. Trying to reason with Louis was like reasoning with a brick wall, and no matter how much he railed at his lover, nothing seemed to change. It was this thought that drove Lestat to kill at the lover’s lane this evening. He quickly found a couple parked far away from the rest, and at first he played the role of the embarrassed young man stumbling into the wrong car, however as the couple laughed it off, that was when Lestat struck, killing the man first, and then the woman. By the time he was returning to the townhouse, much of his anger had been satiated by the blood he’d consumed, and though he was still frustrated with Louis’ rejection of what they were, he knew that they had time. Louis would see reason one way or another.

It was as he entered the townhouse that Lestat’s nostrils flared and his lips parted slightly, as though he could taste the scent of fresh blood. Silently, he moved through the townhouse until he stopped in the doorway to the parlor, where he saw Louis bent over the shuddering body of what must’ve been a solicitor. Lestat’s pupils dilated with lust at the sight, and he let out a soft sigh as Louis dropped the dying man to the ground with a mix of revulsion and disgust in his expression.

“Oh, mon cher,” Lestat breathed, stepping into the room. Louis’ almost frantic gaze snapped up to his, but Lestat only advanced further, lips curling up in a smug smile, “you should have told me you were dining in, my love. I would have stayed.”

an abrupt kiss that you melt into after a moment of hesitation . //&// holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them .

And before Louis could react, Lestat drew him up to his feet with gentle pressure from a finger placed under his chin, thumb sweeping through the blood that had dripped from Louis’ lips as he grasped his jaw firmly. “Hush, mon chou,” he murmured when Louis opened his mouth to speak. Lestat pulled Louis in, crushing their lips together in a deep kiss. His tongue sought out the lingering blood in his lover’s mouth, and he shivered as the intensity of the kiss and heady taste of blood overwhelmed his senses. Louis was the one to pull away first and Lestat gave a soft whine, chasing the kiss as he took a few paces back, staring at Lestat in shock. The deep conflict within Louis was evident in his expression, which not only reflected Lestat’s own lust, but also an intense regret. Until he spoke, Lestat did not know which sentiment would win out this time.

❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞

The words sent heat coursing through Lestat’s body, and though there was still guilt in Louis’ eyes, his misery was intoxicating to Lestat. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the pout from his lover’s lips, to devour his regret and sorrow as though they were the blood he’d so readily glutted himself on not an hour ago. “Then come here and let me taste you, chéri,” his eyes were black with desire, and though he wanted nothing more than to bury his fangs in Louis’ flesh and drink of him, he did not move, waiting for Louis to come to him.

 [ HIPS ]:  sender  pulls  receiver  in  closer  by  the  hips.

The look in Louis’ eye shifted as he decided to give into his lust, and when he reached out, roughly jerking Lestat against him by the hips, Lestat did not protest. He melted against his lover with a soft sigh, mouth already finding the streak of blood that had dripped over Louis’ chin and streaked down his throat. The plaster cracked as Lestat was suddenly shoved into the wall behind him, and he gave a soft hiss against Louis’ skin, nipping at his throat as though to chide him. Though as Louis’ thigh pressed into his growing erection, his mild irritation was completely erased by the pleasure that had begun to burn within him.

Louis’ head tilted slightly to one side as he began grinding against Lestat, both of them breathing harder as their cocks stiffened in their trousers from the friction, but he didn’t have to be told what Louis needed. Before the words could leave his lover’s lips, Lestat sank his fangs into the yielding flesh of Louis’ throat and moaned against his skin as the blood flooded into his mouth. As he drank, tongue laving at the wound, Louis’ hand wound in Lestat’s hair, holding him there as he continued rutting against Lestat’s thigh.

Finally, as Louis’ grip on Lestat’s hair tugged him away, forcibly tipping his head back, Lestat keened, but did not fight, for Louis’ mouth was already at his throat and his entire body shuddered in anticipation for what he knew was coming. One of his hands gripped Louis’ waist, nails piercing the fabric of his already ruined shirt and drawing a hiss from his lover. Louis had only pulled back for a moment before he spoke, taking in Lestat’s desperate expression, cheeks flushed and lips painted with blood.

“ you  look  so  pretty  like  this. ”

At the words, the corners of Lestat’s mouth turned up slightly and his breathing hitched when Louis’ hand cupped his erection through his trousers, his other hand tightening its grip in Lestat’s hair. “You don’t even need to be touched, do you?” The words were spoken against Lestat’s throat, Louis’ teeth grazing his skin once again.

“I will if you don’t get on with it,” Lestat’s ordinarily biting words had taken on a desperate quality as he arched against Louis’ palm, drawing a soft laugh from his lover. In retaliation, Lestat’s free hand made to pull Louis’ head to his throat, but it was quickly caught in his strong grip instead and pinned to the wall above them. At the loss of the friction against his cock, Lestat whined, but he didn’t fight against Louis’ grip. “Please, chou chou,” he begged softly, changing tactics to get his way. “Please, I need it - drink of me, my love.”

clothed .   to  make  my  muse  come  while  fully  dressed .

As Lestat continued to beg, his words were cut off by Louis roughly biting into his throat, and he moaned deeply at the mix of intense pleasure and pain. “Yes, yes, Louis,” he panted, eyes fluttering shut as the intensely intimate sensation of sharing his blood spread through his veins. Lestat’s hips bucked against Louis’ thigh, and as his pinned hand was freed, he clung to his lover, panting and moaning until all at once, he came hard, ruining the inside of his trousers. The intensity of his orgasm had Lestat all but melting against Louis as his lover’s tongue continued to lap at the still-bleeding wounds in his throat, and he sank into his lover’s embrace.

When Louis finally drew back from Lestat’s throat, there was a keen glint in his eye that Lestat knew all too well. “Shall I finish you off, chou chou,” he breathed, a satiated smile crossing his lips, revealing the blood that still stained his teeth. Louis didn’t even have to speak as he pushed Lestat to his knees, hand still tangled in his hair, and with practiced ease, Lestat’s hands tugged Louis’ trousers down just enough that he could free his cock.

Greedily, he lapped the precum from the tip, sucking the head of his cock into his mouth and swirling his tongue. Louis was close already, but as the hand in Lestat’s hair pushed his head down, Lestat didn’t resist, swallowing Louis to the root and holding him there as his lover moaned lowly, the sound almost a growl. Before Lestat could start to move, however, Louis began to fuck himself into Lestat’s mouth, choking him on his cock, but as tears streaked down Lestat’s cheeks, he took it all until Louis’ hips stuttered to a stop and he spilled down Lestat’s throat with a cry.

for receiver to sit on the floor in front of sender and place their head in sender’s lap to be pet and praised.

Lestat swallowed it all, though his throat was raw, and held Louis’ softening cock in his mouth until his lover’s hand untangled itself from his hair. Finally he drew back, looking up to meet Louis’ gaze with his own tear-stained eyes, and as Louis sank to sit cross-legged on the floor before him, Lestat moved to lay on the floor so that he could rest his head in his lover’s lap, gently tucking his cock back into his trousers as he settled in. While Lestat blinked slowly in satisfaction, basking in the comforting closeness and post-orgasmic bliss, Louis’ hand found its way back to Lestat’s hair, stroking the soft, golden locks and brushing his fingertips over his smooth cheek.

“You’re gettin’ too good at this,” Louis muttered, but he was smirking down at Lestat, who could only smile as more praise followed, closing his eyes as he relaxed under his lover’s now gentle touch. Though he knew this calm between them couldn’t last - especially not with a still-warm body just feet behind Louis - he would enjoy this moment of utter contentment while it lasted.

#{ 7 memes down about 30 more to go LMAO } #{ happy birthday drabble for u } #{ I spent way too long on this and it is now almost 5 am but 100% worth it } #{ smutty smut smut with a touch of angst that we're not getting into rn - just sweep that shit right under the rug it's fine } #{ s p i c y } #{ s o f t } #loustat #vampyrebond #asked and answered #{ drabble } #intheblood

[fbfh]

rocks at your window pt. 2 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut (and warnings chapter by chapter) so as with all nsfw/smutty/steamy works, all characters are aged up to 18+ (ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year)

!! contains referenced spoilers for s1e4 of hsmtmts, and pt 1 of this fic !!

wc: 3.3k

genre: fluff, mild angst, slice of life/morning after shenanegins

pairing: ricky bowen x fem/afab/she her! reader

warnings: allusions and references to sex the night before, your mom is really cool about sex cause she taught you how to be safe and responsible, ricky's home life is not good cause of his mom rn, his mom yells at him over the phone, ricky stays with friends till things iron out/his mom goes back to chicago, encouraging him to set boundaries with his mom, "dna doesn't make a family" energy, nina has a "blood is thicker than water" stance and you do not, bad vibes quickly return but you help him through it, antagonizing nina/nina slander (but not ooc yikes), I think that's it??? besides general mommy issues so if that bothers you tread lightly lol

summary: Ricky knows he's falling hard and fast for you, craving nothing more than your touch, and he doesn't think feelings stronger than this exist. When you help him navigate a situation with his mom, he's proven wrong by you once again. Nina is shocked at his reaction to her breakup with EJ, and you begin to leave a bitter dare I say sour taste in her mouth. Ricky just wants your mouth on his, no matter how it tastes.

song rec: are you in love (intro) - the regrettes

a/n: oh my god season two was wild???? unsure how I feel, but I'm excited that we're caught up on episodes cause that means I can write more without getting distracted lol

also I am so surprised at how much I enjoy writing ricky??!!?!?! I love this boy pls give him the love and support he deserves

Meeting the parents is usually awkward at best, but meeting your mom the morning after Ricky and you had sex up in your room in the middle of the night is inarguably worse. He liked to think he was pretty good at talking to adults, he’d had plenty of practice convincing his teachers that just because he skates it doesn’t automatically make him a delinquent hoodlum. But standing in your kitchen, wearing your 90s cartoon print sweatpants and shirt that says ‘friends don’t let friends live in indiana’, he has no idea what to say to your mom, who’s holding some papers and a travel coffee cup, clearly about to leave for work. Thankfully it only feels like eternity that he’s standing there, a vague open mouthed smile, trying to figure out how to say hello without sounding like a lunatic. You enter the kitchen, a few seconds behind him, and greet your mom.

“Morning honey,” she says back, and you walk over to put up some coffee.

“I hope you don’t mind that Ricky stayed over last night, an emergency sleepover was very much called for.” You share a very subtle look, and she nods, understanding.

“Of course not,” she turns to him, “You’re welcome any time, Ricky.” Then back to you, “I’m headed for a meeting at city hall, I’ll text you if it looks like it’ll run late.”

“Good luck,” you say with a chuckle, “We both have rehearsal for most of today - homework will get done around that -” you amend, and she nods, “so I’ll be over by the costco near school if you need me to pick anything up on the way home.”

“Alright,” she smiles, pulling out her keys, “well, have fun at rehearsal, you two! And it was lovely meeting you Ricky. If you ever need anything we’re happy to have you.”

And that was it.

No interrogations, no snide looks, no criticisms that skateboarding and energy drinks are rotting his brain. Just some pleasant small talk and introductions, and that was it. Is that what it’s like for other people?

You catch the time on the microwave clock as you pull out the coffee, and your eyes flare.

“Oh shit, it’s like, 5 past 8,” you say, Ricky’s eyes mirroring yours. Rehearsal doesn’t technically start till 9, but it’s an unofficial rule among the cast that everyone shows up about a half hour early for warmups, going over notes, and generally going the extra mile.

“Shit,” he replies.

“Okay, uh,” you say, only panicking a little, “you have your script in your backpack, right?” He nods, and you continue, “Okay, we’ll just get dressed really fast, get some coffee on the way, and if we’re late it’s because of traffic or something.” You say, already heading back upstairs, Ricky right on your heels.

“Oh my god,” you giggle, bouncing up the stairs, “they’re gonna kill us if we’re late.”

“Hey,” he says, picking up his jeans and flannel from yesterday, catching the tee shirt you toss him, “practice for, uh, quick changes.” You turn to him, delight in your eyes.

“See, you’re getting it!” You say through the door into the bathroom as you both change as fast as you can, “You know more about theatre than you give yourself credit for-” your voice raises in pitch as you almost fall, trying to put on your jeans, “I’m fine!” you call, hearing Ricky’s laugh echo into your room. It’s a nice sound.

Before you know it, you’re parked at your favorite coffee shop. After how late you were up last night and how much happened yesterday, you encourage Ricky to get a coffee with you. Two iced coffees, one peach scone, and one chocolate croissant later, it’s 8:17 am. Ricky holds your place in line while you walk over to the red metal box by the windows, change in hand. You walk back over to him to pick up your order, stuffing something in your pocket.

“What’ve you got there?” he asks, a curious smile on his face.

“It’s a surprise,” you say, with a wiggle of your eyebrows. You pull out of the parking lot and start driving towards school, Ricky in the passenger seat. You check the clock again, now 8:27.

“Christ,” you mutter, pulling out your phone and calling Miss Jenn on speaker. She picks up after two rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi Miss Jenn,” you introduce yourself, “and Ricky’s with me-”

“Hi Miss Jenn.” he calls into the phone.

“Ricky came over to my place early this morning to go over our lines in act 1, working through the notes you gave us,” you continue, jogging her memory of the awkward delivery between you two.

“Right,” she says.

“We completely lost track of time, and my gps got all messed up - we’ll be there well before 9 - but we might be 5 minutes late, so I wanted to give you a heads up,” you conclude as you turn left.

“Oh don’t worry about it, you two just get here safe. Have fun, and watch out for pedestrians!” she adds, joy that you and Ricky are finally bonding, evident in her voice. It’s pretty obvious why she’s happy that you and Ricky are spending time together; when rehearsals first started, he was so focused on trying to win back Nina that he didn’t really participate in the scenes you have together. You never had anything against him, and you’re glad now that he’s getting his head in the game - pun intended.

You thank her, then hang up. A minute later, you remember what’s in your pocket. You pull out two plastic bubbles and hand them to him. He recognizes them as prizes from a bubblegum style toy machine.

“I can never resist getting at least one of these little guys whenever I go there,” you punctuate the statement with a sip of your coffee. “So, what did we get?” You say, smiling. He looks at the little toys in his hand, chuckling as he opens them up.

“Two heart shaped rings,” he muses, “red and purple.”

“Oh my god, really?” you ask, looking over as he holds them up to show you, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten matching prizes. The last time I got two of these, they were a batman sticker and a small pot of strawberry lip gloss that was definitely rancid,” you recall with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he says, staring at the two hearts in his hand, a strange, warm feeling stirring in his chest, “what are the odds…”

“Must be fate,” you say with a smile. “Which one do you want?"

"I kinda like the red one," he muses, watching the way the silver glitter embedded in the plastic shines in the morning light.

"That's what I would have said too. Red suits you."

He looks over at you as you drive, his eyes wide and cheeks warm. What the hell is happening to him?

You stick your hand out, wiggling your fingers for him to place the purple ring on your hand. He looks at them, then very carefully, slips one onto your ring finger. He can feel that moment, your hand in his, as he gently places a ring on your finger, burn into his mind. Taking note of every single detail, he commits this moment, this feeling, to memory. He wants so desperately for this to last forever, but if you do eventually have to pull into the parking lot, he’ll settle for reliving you placing your hand in his again and again.

He snaps out of this thought, realizing if he holds your finger for much longer it’ll probably start to get awkward. After a moment he tears his eyes away from your hand, looking at your profile, your focus on the road and street signs.

“Does it fit?” he asks, softly with a nervous chuckle in his voice.

He watches you, bittersweet, as you finally retract your hand from his and give it a little shake.

“Like a glove.” you state, that sweet alluring smile once again gracing your lips.

You finally find a parking space, grab you bag and coffee, and exit the car, Ricky right behind you. You look over at him, trying to cram the child sized ring onto his hand.

“Does it fit?” you ask him back.

It doesn’t, but the last thing he wants is to slow this momentum you have going. It’s a nice energy, it’s comforting - and if he’s being honest - a little addictive.

“I… can make it fit,” he smiles, once again worried that something will somehow shatter this delicate euphoric feeling building up between you. You let out a laugh, the sound immediately putting a smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, dude,” you say, taking another sip of coffee, “you can wear it on your necklace.”

“Yeah,” he realizes, pulling the blank chain from under his (or rather, your) shirt.

“Cool, I can help you put it on when we’re inside,” you reply, opening the door to the building, but stopping when you see your hand. You look down at your finger, then over at Ricky. He gave you the red ring, and is holding the purple one.

“Aww,” you coo. He laughs and looks away, cheeks warm.

“I dunno,” he laughs, “I thought it was-”

“Perfect!” you finish, “Easily the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me.”

You pause.

“Which sounds kind of pathetic in retrospect.” you both laugh, finally entering the rehearsal room.

“Just a little,” he laughs, “you’ve gotta get some better friends.” You’re about to agree, that’s why you have him, you’re about to say, but Carlos approaches before you can.

“There you are! You need to try on your bop to the top dress to see if you can dance okay in it.”

He jiggles his leg, a warm, excited, kinetic energy running through him since this morning. Since last night. He bites his lip, smiling at the torrent of memories from just a few hours ago. His hand comes up, tracing the spot on his shoulder that’s almost definitely a hickey now. He plays with the little purple heart, your heart, in his hands. He looks up at you across the room, Kourtney adjusting your sequined skirt, while she and Carlos discuss range of motion and fabric choices.

You set down your bag on the chair next to Ricky’s.

“Be right back.” you smile, Ricky sitting down next to your backpack.

He realizes you probably have a hickey in the same spot. Or several. He giggles to himself, looking back down. He really didn’t expect himself to be this… flustered.

“Ricky,” he looks up, thoughts still consumed by the feeling of your hands gliding down his chest, at Nini. “Can we talk?”

He blinks.

“Uh,” he says, looking back over at you, doing a twirl in your skirt,surprising himself by how much he wants to walk right over to you and pull you into his arms and never let go. He tears his gaze away, back to Nini, waiting expectantly.

“Yeah,” he says, standing up, “sure.”

“So,” she begins again, presenting a certain, almost expectant, resignation, “I broke up with EJ…” she punctuates, letting her hands fall against her legs. She has the whole speech ready, she can’t just jump back into a relationship with him, especially after everything that’s happened. He’ll need to work hard to earn her trust again, then she’ll see where they are. She knows he’ll hug her, and hold on a little too long like he always does. He might try to kiss her, which she wouldn’t put past him. Now she just has to see what this news will do to him, and guage her response around that.

She leads him a few feet away from the majority of the cast. He catches himself glancing over your way again.

“So,” she starts. She clears her throat. He looks back at her.

He opens his mouth to answer, cut off by the buzzing of his phone. He checks it quickly, which she expected. He’s been on edge since the drama with his mom. She is, however, thrown off guard a little when he smiles at the screen, a dreamy look on his face for a second.

“Uh, Ricky,” she says, brow furrowed, a confused smile on her face. He looks back up at her and seems to remember where he is. His eyes flick back over to where everyone’s sitting. He places a hand on her shoulder, guiding her further from the crowd.

“Listen, Nini,” he starts. Here it comes, she thinks, and he continues. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and you’re right… we should go back to being friends, like before.”

That definitely throws her off guard.

“Even if we both did want to date again right now, it would be disrespectful to your feelings - cause you just broke up with EJ, you know? And I mean, we care about each other too much to do that.”

Where the hell is this going?

“You should take time to focus on yourself, on the show, and your music. I’ll be cheering you on - as a friend,” he amends, “the whole way.”

She searches his expression, almost seeming… impatient. She lets out a surprised laugh.

“Uh, yeah, I’m… really glad we can be mature about this.”

“Exactly,” he replies, “we’ve known each other for years, why mess that all up?” she agrees with him, and he nods.

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” he says, turning and heading back to his seat. You say something, and he turns away from you.

She watches you take off the chain from his neck, fingertips skimming over the collar of his shirt. She reads the blue text. I have never been to the moon. Ricky doesn’t have a shirt that says that, she would have remembered if he did. You do something to the chain, then you reattach it around his neck. She watches closely at his eyes, blinking dreamily as you sit closely behind him, fixing the clasp. You say something quietly in his ear, and he lets out a loud laugh.

A bad feeling stirs in her stomach. She texts Kourtney to meet her in the bathroom.

“So,” she begins, leaning against the sink, “I told Ricky that I broke up with EJ.”

“Oh no,” Kourtney says, “how bad was it?”

She braces for the worst.

“It went… well.” Nina says, catching Kourtney up on the last few, very weird minutes.

“So he’s okay,” she says, a relieved smile on her face, “thank god, now we can all go back to normal.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think it was weird the way he ran right over to her like a puppy or something?” Nina says, hoping Kourtney will pick up on her suspicion.

“Weird?”

“I just find it funny how he used to-”

“What, throw himself at you? Nini, that drove you crazy. Now you’re finally on the same page, he’s willing to be your friend - which is what you’ve been trying to get him to do for weeks!”

Nina lets out a contemptuous sigh.

“Give it some time, you and her might have more in common than you think” Kourtney says, heading back to the door. She turns around, pointing a stirn finger at Nina. “And don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Nina lets out a laugh.

“Thanks, Kourt.” They head back into the rehearsal room, Nina sitting a few seats away from Ricky and you. Far enough for some distance, but close enough to eavesdrop. Hypothetically. If she needed to.

“Alright, cast,” Miss Jenn begins, almost ready to start rehearsal, “today-”

She’s cut off by her phone ringtone chiming through the somewhat quiet room. She lets out a small breath.

“One moment.”

She picks up the phone.

“Hello?” she listens for a moment, expression concerned, “No no, he’s here. Safe and sound. Yes, just one moment.”

She approaches Ricky.

“It’s your mom,” she says carefully, “she wants to talk to you.”

His stomach drops, that cold, sick feeling he’d been running from all weekend coming back full force.

“What do I do?” panic is evident in his voice. Nina looks up, ready to help, and sees him looking at you with pleading eyes. Your hand rests on his arm, tracing small shapes. She leans forward to tell him he should talk to her. She’s his mom, they’re family, and they have to work this out, even if it’s hard.

You reply first.

“Do you want to talk to her?” you ask, quiet and sincere.

“Not really,” he replies.

“Do you want to go home if she’s going to be there?”

“No.” he states quickly.

“Tell her that. Tell her you don’t want to talk right now, and you’ll go back home once she leaves. You have friends you can stay with until then.” he nods, hanging on your every word. “It doesn’t matter that she’s your mother, she did something really shitty, and handled it really shittily,” he lets out a small chuckle. “You’re allowed to set boundaries.” you conclude firmly.

She’s about to interject that that’s horrible advice when Ricky’s hand reaches out for yours, intertwining firmly. You give him an encouraging nod and he takes the phone.

Listening to Ricky tell his mom what you just told him, Nina decides you don’t have anything in common. In fact, she kind of hates you.

Ricky finally finishes speaking, and you can hear his mother’s raised tone from the phone. She’s still going.

“Hang up.” you breathe.

He realizes you’re right. He said what he needed to say, he shouldn’t have to listen to her talk about changing his diapers and taking care of him when he was sick. He shouldn’t have to be guilt tripped like this. He stares at the phone for a second.

Call ended.

He hands the phone back to Miss Jenn, a new found, liberating feeling beginning to course through him. He feels fucking fantastic.

A few minutes later, rehearsal starts, beginning with the Gabriella and Taylor scene. Ricky marvels at the amount of mental space he has to focus on rehearsal now that that’s finally over.

You have to go on in a minute. Before you do, you lean in to say something quietly to Ricky.

“You can stay at my place as long as you want, no questions asked.”

“Same here,” comes a voice behind him. You turn around to see Big Red, who Miss Jenn just informed of the situation. “My parents love you.” he laughs. You give Ricky’s hand a squeeze, and his heart flutters with a flourish, realizing neither of you have let go yet. The feeling is short lived as you stand up to take your place in the wings.

“Oh, Big Red,” you say, “I have a question about the ladder for bop to the top.” you nod your head, and he walks a few feet away with you.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t actually have a question. I think this weekend we should go with Ricky back to his place to get some of his clothes and stuff so he can stay with us. He shouldn’t have to go alone, he needs moral support.”

Big Red agrees enthusiastically.

“I was just going to let him borrow my old fun run race for the cure tee shirts from the charity runs my family does every summer, but I like that plan better.” You both laugh, and you hold out a fist for him to bump.

“Supporting Ricky squad.” you say.

“Supporting Ricky squad.” he echoes. You leave to get ready for your scene, and Big Red makes his way back over to Ricky.

“Okay,” he says quietly, “Sharpay has my seal of approval.”

Ricky stares ahead, transfixed on you as you skim your script, doing a light warm up before your cue.

“Yeah… she does,” he muses, still engulfed in the memory of your touch, “hey, remind me, I gotta tell you something later. Something important.”

// tag list: @afidiofobia //

#I want to give him things. Like blowjobs and self esteem #hsmtmts ricky #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #hsmtmts x reader #hsmtmts #ricky bowen smut #rocks at your window