catfish and the bottlemen imagines for rainy days + mondays

Tshirt Weather Part 4 / Bondy

It was getting worse. The desire he stirred in you every time he crossed your mind, and he crossed your mind so much more than he used to.

Every time you found yourself walking the familiar route to your best friends house you found that all you could think about was him and whether today would be the day he finally let you take it too far.

You couldn't concentrate for the feeling he stirred inside you. You couldn't think of him without thinking of the things he did to you. The way he touched you when he got you on your own. His fingers on your skin. His tongue on your tongue. His lips between your legs, teeth grazing you through your underwear.

In the mornings you would sit at their breakfast table watching him drink orange juice by the fridge and you would feel a heat in your cheeks when he caught you because he knew.

You knew he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You knew he knew what you were thinking about - the last time you'd been alone together, the day you'd been sure he was going to do it, take your virginity, fuck you senseless in the shower whilst his sister remained clueless in the next room.

You weren't sure how much you could take and you knew that he knew that too.

Every time you visited Lily, every time she invited you round to see her you had the same argument in your head. What if John's there? What if he isn't?

You'd been avoiding him, trying not to see him, because the longer you left it between your encounters the more in control you felt. The more you could kid yourself that you weren't bothered. That you didn't like him. That the sight of him alone wasn't enough to shiver you or leave sordid thoughts clouding your brain. Thoughts of your naked body wrapped around him, your nose nuzzled into his neck, your teeth grazing his skin, the way his moans vibrated through his kisses across your lips.

If he caught your eye at the kitchen table you felt it in your core, you felt a pulse which was impossible to ignore. You found yourself fidgeting trying to pacify the ache but it never really went away. Not until he did. Not until the memories of his touch, of his tongue and the pressure he had pushed to your panties that last night you had seen him, drifted away too.

Thing is, avoiding him wasn't really helping. If anything it had made the desires you felt more intense.

Now instead of experiencing the real thing and replaying the memories, you were left to edit the memories you had. Imagining and reimagining him taking it further. Him giving you everything you wanted from him. You giving him everything and anything he asked of you.

And the thought of giving him anything he asked of you was enough to excite alone. Enough to raise your pulse. Enough to leave you fidgeting in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs, desperate to quell your need for him. It was driving you mad.
When you lay in bed at night you couldn't get him off your mind. And even though you were trying your best to ignore his existence, it was him on your mind as you drifted in and out of restless sleep.

It was him on your mind when your dreams conjured up sordid scenes which left your panties sort of sodden when you awoke, feeling sticky and restless and unsatisfied.

And perhaps the worst thing of all, was that although you told yourself you weren't interested in him, that he was a stupid, dumb teenage boy, who knew nothing and listened to the worst music, the kind of boy that cared more about guitars and not showering for several days so he might look like Kurt cobain, the kind of boy you had no desire to see ever again...

If you arrived at Lily's to find that Johnny was out with his mates, at band practice or staying at Lous house, the dissapoinment was crushing.

Your whole mood depended on whether or not he was home.