He waited up || M.Burtwistle
Summary: Girls night with Hev and Ellie.
Warnings: alcohol, talking about sex, clingy boyfriend morgan
The three of you had polished off three bottles of wine while doing your makeup. It would be rude not to when everyone showed up to the house with a bottle, wouldn’t it?
Endless tiktoks, instagrams and snaps were taken from pres. Going from the sensible streamer girlfriends to feral drunk besties in real time.
Honestly the weeks leading up to tonight you were so excited. Living with five 20 something year old teen boys was exhausting, at least the girls semi-understood since they were also dating a bov boy.
At the club drinks were flowing, you lost track of the amount of strawberry daiquiris you’d inhaled. The three of you were sat having a chat over your drinks, all way too far gone to have a filter and everyone’s feet killing from the heels you’d all chosen to wear.
“Y’know when you’re proper not in the mood but they do that face that makes you give in instantly?” Heather starts, Ellie immediately nodding and clapping along in agreement.
“UGH! Yes! It’s so annoying!” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Like I know we only see each other 3 days a week but I want to sleeeeeep keep it in your pants.”
“I genuinely have no idea what you girls are talking about.” you sipped on your cocktail, bemused by the shocked outrage on your friends faces.
“What do you mean? Surely he tries it on and you’ve not felt like it reader?” Heather pushes.
“Especially after nine years! Come on girl you can’t fool us.”
“No genuinely girls. My man is fucking stunning, I’d climb him whenever wherever. I’ve never not been in the mood.”
The table goes silent, Heather slowly lowers her drink like she’s just witnessed a crime. Ellie blinks at you. Once. Twice.
“…You’re joking.” she says flatly.
You shake your head, completely serious, sipping your daiquiri through the tiny straw.
“Nope.”
Heather grabs your arm dramatically.
“Nine years. NINE YEARS and you’re telling me you’ve never once gone ‘babe please I’m tired’?”
“No,” you laugh. “I mean obviously life happens, we live in the bov house now. but I still want him. Every time. He just,” you shrug helplessly, cheeks warm from alcohol and honesty. “He looks at me and I need a mop.”
“That’s actually disgusting behaviour, I hope you know that.” Ellie slaps the table pulling a horrified face at you.
“You’re the reason men have unrealistic expectations!” Heather points accusingly causing you to gasp.
“Excuse me! I’m appreciating what’s mine thank you very much!”
Ellie does an over dramatic shudder, fingers clutching her straw.
“I cannot hear ‘appreciate what’s mine’ in that context knowing we’re talking about angry fucking ginge!”
You burst out laughing so hard you nearly spill your drink.
“Don’t call him that!” you wheeze, pointing at Ellie, Heather is fully doubled over now.
“No because I know exactly who you mean and it’s way worse when you say it like that!”
“Angry fucking ginge who apparently just has you in a chokehold 24/7.” Ellie is fanning herself dramatically.
“Not 24/7!” you protest, still laughing. “I have hobbies!”
“Do you?” Heather squints at you. “Or do you just stare at him across the kitchen island while he’s making toast wishing you didn’t have roommates so he could be banging you over it?”
That one sends Ellie into a fresh fit of laughter.
“I do NOT!” You press a hand to your chest, offended. “Okay maybe once or twice I’ve-”
“Once or twice?” Ellie repeats immediately.
“Don’t interrogate me in public!” You point at her. “Anyway you literally shag in 67 bedsheets girl. I don’t have to take this slander.”
That gets a fresh round of belly laughs from the three of you, you having to be quick not to let the joyous tears fall and smudge your makeup.
Heather is wiping under her eyes like she’s about to ruin her mascara and she doesn’t even care anymore.
“Six-seven bedsheets,” she repeats, laughing. “Why is that so accurate though?”
Ellie leans back in her chair, pointing at you like she’s made a scientific discovery.
“No because she’s deflecting. She’s fully in love and attacking my brain-rotted jakey instead.”
“I’m not attacking anything!” you say, but you’re smiling so hard it doesn’t land with any seriousness at all. “I’m simply observing that some of our boyfriends have better tastes than others.”
“He’s just a bit special reader,” she giggles out. “How come mikeys getting off freely anyways?”
You both turn to Heather with cheeky smiles, knowing that she can’t stop you from bulling her bald boyfriend now.
“Girls! Girls! Don’t bring my sweet Mikey into this!!”
“Nah nah I live with him Hev, the bloke has literally got air in between his ears and nothing else. How do you cope?”
“He’s actually proper smart sometimes you know!”
You and Ellie make eye contact. Big mistake as you both folded immediately, clutching your stomachs at the mere thought of Mikey having a brain.
Heather sits there for a second, dead serious, trying to defend her man like it’s a court case.
“He is!” she insists, pointing between you and Ellie. “He is smart. He just…selectively uses it.”
Ellie wipes under her eye, still laughing.
“Selectively is crazy, Like it’s a Netflix subscription.”
“Mikey’s brain works on a pay-as-you-go plan.” You’re bent forward now, shoulders shaking, Heather gasps.
“Stop bullying him!”
“Then give us evidence.” Ellie fires back instantly.
Heather opens her mouth… closes it… then tries again.
“He once…he once fixed the WiFi.”
Silence. You blink. Slowly.
“The bar is in hell.”
“You’re both horrible!”
You’re all laughing so hard now the table is basically vibrating, drinks sloshing dangerously close to the edges.
Nothing exists except mascara-streaked cheeks, aching jaws, and the kind of laughter that makes your chest hurt in the best way. Then Ellie nudges your arm, still grinning.
“Okay but seriously though. Ginge, Does he actually know you talk about him like this?”
You pause.
“…No.”
“That’s self-preservation, that man would be far to smug” Heather immediately points.
You try to argue, but the thought of it catches you off guard for a second, your boyfriend’s face if he ever heard all of this. That smug little look he gets when he knows he’s got you figured out. You shake it off quickly.
“Nope. Absolutely not. We are never telling him.”
Ellie immediately sticks her hand out, “Pinky swear?”You slap your hand into hers without thinking, “Pinky swear.”
Heather leans in too, eyes narrowed. “On Mikey’s WiFi-fixed life?”
“On Mikey’s WiFi-fixed life.” you confirm solemnly.
That sends you all off again, laughing into your drinks like it’s the funniest oath ever made in human history.
Then your phone buzzes from your purse on the table. Instinctively you go to grab it, both girls making noises of disapproval as you do.
“No boys, reader!”
“We don’t even know it’s him yet.” you convince no one as you slide your phone from your bag.
The soft little smirk taking over your face told the girls instantly it was Morgan who messaged you.
From squishy❤️ : looked so good before you left, can’t wait to get that dress off you when you’re home x
From squishy❤️: send me a picture so I don’t forget what you look like, Sexy bitch x
“Go on then what’d he say?” Ellie asked leaning towards your phone, being in your tipsy state you weren’t quick enough to tilt the screen.
“Reader!! Nine years and he’s still messaging you like that? Fuckin hell.” a tone of disbelief shone through her voice.
Heather is still laughing so hard she’s basically folded in half, mascara hanging on for dear life at this point - not gonna look good for the bybabes brand surely.
Ellie wipes her hand down her face like she’s physically resetting her brain.
“Right, I need something stronger than strawberry daiquiris, I’ve seen too much.”
You take a long sip of yours, smug in the way only someone with a mildly deranged but loving boyfriend can be.
“You’re welcome for the free entertainment.”
Then Heather over dramatically slams her hands down on the table.
“Girls we need shots!!” She squeals. Naturally you and Ellie agree it’s the best idea ever and off the three off you go in your too short dresses to the bar and order way too many tequila rosés to your table.
The tequila rosé hits the table like a warning nobody listens to, Ellie squints at it.
“That looks illegal.”
“That looks like healing!” Heather is already clapping.
You, unfortunately, are already halfway through your first one before anyone has even finished speaking.
“Okay,” Ellie says slowly, watching you like a wildlife documentary. “She’s feral again.”
You point at her with your glass.
“I’ve been here the entire time, devellie!!”
Heather laughs.
“No you haven’t, You’ve been spiritually texting angry fucking ginge!”
“Stop saying it like that!” you groan, but you’re smiling so hard it doesn’t land.
Ellie leans on the table, dramatically.
“Right, New rule. Every shot = one embarrassing boyfriend story.”
You immediately shake your head.
“Absolutely not.”
“I’ll start!” Heather raises a finger “Once Mikey tried to be proper romantic and carry me to bed but he tripped on his clothes and he ended up falling - ON TOP OF ME - and twisting his ankle… so even later on we couldn’t shag or anything.”
You both stare at her, there’s a beat of silence so pure it almost resets the club noise around you.
Then Ellie slowly says, “So… romantic injury prevented shagging?”
Heather nods solemnly, “Correct,” then tilts her head back as she downs her shot.
You lose it instantly.
“No because that is the most Mikey-coded romance I’ve ever heard in my life,” you gasp, nearly sliding off your chair laughing. Heather points at her drink like she’s still defending his honour.
“It was an accident!”
You wipe under your eye, trying to breathe. Ellie snorts.
“He fumbled you, literally.”
“He was trying his best!” Heather throws her hands up in defeat.
“His best is dangerous!” you say, still laughing.
Ellie leans in again, wiping her mascara like she’s about to declare war.
“Right. My turn!”
You groan immediately, Ellie grins.
“Morgan story.”
“Don’t you dare, he’s not even yours to embarrass!” You point at her.
Too late, Ellie sits up straighter like she’s about to deliver courtroom evidence.
“So. Your angry fucking ginge-”
You physically bury your face in your hands.
“I hate you.”
Ellie continues regardless.
“- once forgot I was over, came into the room fully tried to get into her pants - like he’d UNDONE the button of her jeans before he clocked I was in the fucking ROOM!” She was fully wheezing before she’d got her whole sentence out.
You shoot upright so fast your chair screeches.
“HE DID NOT” Heather slams a hand on the table, screaming “NO HE DIDN’T OH MY GOD”
Ellie is doubled over, pointing at you like she’s reliving a historical event.
“He just walked in like hello girlfriend zero survival instincts, straight hands-on situation!”
You hide your face behind your drink.
“He thought we were alone!” you argue, mortified. “You were meant to have left!”
“I HAD gone downstairs for my charger!” Ellie cries, throwing her hands up for emphasis. “I came back and your man was already halfway through unwrapping his dinner!” Ellie is fully red in the face now, gasping between laughs. “man didn’t even say hello, just saw girlfriend and needed her pants off.”
Heather is clutching your arm so hard her nails are digging in.
“No because I’m picturing him just LOCKING IN! Zero thoughts only sex.”
You groan into your hands.
“I genuinely believed we were alone! Why would I check my own bedroom?!”
Ellie wipes tears from her eyes.
“Because WE WERE WATCHING A MOVIE TOGETHER, babe!”
You point accusingly.
“You LEFT THE ROOM”
“I went for a charger!” Ellie shoots back. “I walked in and your boyfriend was already going for it!”
Heather wheezes.
“Exactly! No awareness! Just girlfriend detected - sex addict activated”
You sink lower in your seat.
“I cannot believe this is public knowledge”
“Oh no babe it’s worse,” Ellie grins wickedly. “The way he froze when he finally noticed me…”
Heather leans forward like she’s about to hear gossip from God himself, hands flat on the table no distractions around.
“What did he do?”
Ellie straightens reenacting it perfectly - shoulders stiff, eyes wide.
“He just stopped. Completely, like someone unplugged him.”
You already know where this is going and want the floor to swallow you.
“And then.” Ellie continues, barely holding it together, “he goes…‘…Hi Ellie’.”
Heather SCREAMS.
“No apology?! No panic?! Just hi Ellie?!”
You cover your face again.
“He panicked internally!”
“No,” Ellie says firmly “That man chose dignity. Wrong choice, but it’s the choice he chose.”
Heather is doubled over now.
“I bet he still tried to act normal after too.”
Ellie slaps the table.
“He DID! Sat down like nothing happened while she was still fixing her jeans!”
“I wanted to DIE Ellie!” You groan.
“And he was just there like anyway, been up to much?” Ellie adds, losing composure again.
Heather wipes under her eyes, still gasping for breathes between laughs. Ellie finally downs her tequila, shivering as she swallowed.
Heather watches you for a second, smile softening.
“Jokes aside… he really loves you, doesn’t he?”
You shrug, but your grin gives you away.
“Yeah.” you admit quietly. “Never had to question if he loved me or not, suppose he’s good at that.”
Ellie hums, clinking her glass against yours.
“That’s how you know it’s the real thing. Jakey used to proper do my head in all through school and he still does my head in now. That’s how I know he’s the one I reckon.”
Heather nods thoughtfully, swirling the last of her drink.
“Mikey’s an absolute idiot,” she says fondly, smiling into her glass. “but, he’s my big idiot.”
For a tiny moment the noise of the club fades behind you lights flashing, music thumping, strangers shouting and it hits you how rare this is. The three of you, messy makeup, sore feet, stupid stories and boys you somehow all ended up loving anyway. You squeeze their hands without thinking.
“God we’re soft.” you mumble.
“Speak for yourself, I’m still judging your feral ginger.” Ellie snorts immediately that breaks the spell instantly. Heather raises her shot glass again.
“Right, Enough emotional growth. Someone embarrass another man.”
“Oooh okay my turn… when we first started dating Morgan was even worse than he is now at leaving hickeys.” you confessed, full story teller mode. Too drunk to worry about repercussions, “anyway age 15, my mum panicked when she saw my neck and the next day pulled Morgan to the kitchen and gave him a box of condoms.”
The girls screeched at your confession, Ellie smacking her hands on the table and Heather gripping into you.
“No way your mum bought condoms for her 15 year old daughter’s boyfriend. I can’t buy it.” Heather was wiping tears from her eyes as she spoke.
“Genuinely she did. It was mortifying, bare in mind this is this same kid who I had sleepovers with every weekend too.”
“Oh god! Did Morgan die on the spot?” Ellie had leaned in now, full detective mode activated.
“Yes!! He was terrified my mum was going to ban him from seeing me,” you chuckled. “But no she gave him a box of rubbers and ‘I’m too young to be a grandma Morgan, be more careful yeah’ HORRIFIC!!”
The girls only fell into more intense fits of laughter as you downed your shot.
After a few more hours, endless shots and even more embarrassing stories that should’ve been kept in the confinement of each individual relationship the three of you decided to book an uber home, or to the bov house where all your stupid men would be.
Outside the club the cold air hits the three of you like a brick, the infinite shots not warming you up as much once leaving the building. All three of you immediately gasp.
“Why is England like this?” Heather whines, clutching her tiny jacket that has never once provided warmth in its entire existence.
Ellie wobbles slightly on her heels, grabbing your arm.
“I cannot feel my feet, I think I left them inside.”
“You didn’t have any feeling to begin with in those heels!” you laugh, tugging your dress down as you all huddle closer together waiting for the Uber.
Your phone buzzes again, Ellie spots it instantly.
“No,” she says firmly. “No boyfriend contact until we are safely transported.”
You grin anyway, sneaking a glance.
From squishy❤️: you having fun?
From squishy❤️: bed is too big without you
Your chest does that annoying warm little squeeze you pretend not to notice, Heather peeks over your shoulder.
“OH he misses you, that’s sickening.”
“He’s probably pacing around the house.” Ellie adds knowingly, “oh spike, I know mummy is so nasty leaving her boys all alone, isn’t she!” she finishes in a mock deep voice, what you’re assuming is meant to be your boyfriend.
You shove her shoulder immediately, laughing.
“That is NOT what he sounds like!”
“It absolutely is!” Ellie insists, still wobbling dramatically. “He’s sat there right now, stroking Spike like a divorced dad waiting for visitation hours.”
Heather gasps.
“STOP! I can literally picture it. Lights off. TV on mute. Just sighing every five minutes into the abyss.”
You roll your eyes but you’re smiling too much to deny it.
“He is not sighing.”
Your phone buzzes again, Ellie and Heather both scream.
“HE’S DOUBLE TEXTING!”
You glance down despite yourself.
From squishy❤️: you really did look so pretty
From squishy❤️: remember to stay safe baby x
The teasing dies just a tiny bit, not fully but enough that Heather softens.
The uber ride home was a mixture of incorrect song lyrics belted far to confidently, the poor driver getting three girls life stories when he just wanted to do his job and so much laughter your ribs were aching.
When the uber finally pulled onto your street, headlights washing over the familiar BOV house.
All the lights were on, every single one. Ellie squinted through the window.
“…Why does it look like an intervention?”
“That’s not an intervention, that’s boys pretending they weren’t waiting up.” Heather snorted.
You tried not to smile. The car stopped and the three of you spilled out onto the drive in a tangle of heels, handbags and drunken giggles, the cold air biting harder now the alcohol had started wearing off.
You barely made it halfway up the path before the front door swung open. Of course Morgan stood there like he’d been listening for the engine.
Grey joggers. Hoodie. Hair a mess like he’d been running his hands through it all night. Spike squeezed past his legs immediately, tail wagging so hard his entire body moved.
“There she is.” Morgan said, voice warm and relieved in a way that settled something deep in your chest.
Ellie leaned heavily against Heather.
“Oh my god he was pacing.”
Morgan ignored her completely, eyes only on you as you walked closer.
“You alright?” he asked softly, already reaching for you.
His hands landed automatically at your waist, steadying you before you even realised you’d wobbled.
“I’m fine,” you laughed, “Very hydrated.”
Heather snorted behind you.
“She means tequila.”
Morgan huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing absentmindedly along your hip like he needed to check you were actually there.
“You going to conk out the second you walk into our room aren’t you, trouble?”
“Depends, is there gonna be a tall sexy defender in bed with me?” You smiled up at him, not even attempting to fight the allegations.
Heather and Ellie made exaggerated gagging noises behind you, falling into eachother in a way they’d both vehemently deny tomorrow.
Morgan rolls his eyes at them but doesn’t let go of you, pulling you closer against his chest like the rest of the world is background noise.
“Alright, gremlins,” he calls over your shoulder. “Did you return my girlfriend in one piece?”
“Debatable,” Ellie replies instantly “She asked the taxi driver if he’d had a long shift and if he was tired.”
“That’s normal British chitchat.” Morgan instantly defends you, causing Heather and Ellie to let out another squeal of laughter.
“Oh yeah it is!” Heather agreed easily, “except ‘trouble’ over there was asking so she could take over the drive home!”
“She said and I quote ‘you sure you’re energetic enough to drive, my squishy would’ve had is there by now. I can take over for a bit if you need?’ That poor man was unprepared!” Ellie exclaimed.
You could feel Morgan’s shoulders shake underneath you as he attempted to hold in his laughter.
“Okay… maybe not the way people generally go about it.” Morgan choked out between laughs. “But you’ve got spirit babe, shall we go inside out the cold?”
Once inside Morgan guided you to the sofa, removing your heels once you were sat securely then going to get you a bottle of water.
By this point Jakey and Mikey had come to collect their own drunken women.
Jakey appears first, leaning in the doorway like he’s been waiting for this exact moment all night.
“There she is,” he says, already walking toward Ellie with the patience of a man who has done this many times before. “My little liability.”
Ellie lights up instantly, “JAKEY!” she cheers like he’s returned from war instead of being upstairs five minutes ago.
She launches herself at him. He barely reacts, just catches her automatically, hands settling at her waist.
“You drink water?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“She absolutely did not.” Morgan mutters from beside you, not following girl code clearly.
Ellie gasps in betrayal.
“Daiquiris don’t count.” Jakey says calmly, steering her toward the kitchen.
Meanwhile Mikey crouches in front of Heather, inspecting her like a concerned mechanic.
“You alive?”
“I’m thriving.” Heather narrows her eyes.
“You called me crying because the club toilet lady looked disappointed in you.”
“She judged me, I could feel it in the air!” Heather says seriously.
Mikey nods like this is normal information, to be fair in this house it’s not far off.
“Right, Bed.”
He helps her up, arm wrapped securely around her shoulders while she leans fully into him, already half asleep.
You watch them disappear upstairs, warmth spreading in your chest at how natural it all looks boys who pretend to be chaotic disasters suddenly soft and careful the second their girls need them.
On que Morgan returns with a glass of water, forcing you to finish it before letting you talk to him - or touch him.
“All done.” you nodded in reply. “Good let’s get you to bed then.”
“Dirty boy,” you wink, far too overdramatised to be anything resembling sexy. Good thing Morgan was all ready in love with you as he just rolled his eyes and pulled you to your feet.
“Come on, ya freak.”
One the bedroom door closes behind you and the noise of the house dulls instantly.
You spin toward him before he can even speak, arms wrapping around his neck.
“There’s my boy!” you sigh happily, pressing your face into his hoodie like you’ve finally reached home base.
His hands settle automatically at your back, grounding you when you sway slightly.
“Hi baby.” he says quietly.
You tilt your head up, studying him like you haven’t seen him in years instead of hours.
“You missed me.” it was a statement, not a question. He exhales a small laugh.
“Yeah,” he admits regardless. “Bit boring without you.”
Your grin widens.
“Ellie said you were pacing.”
“I was not pacing.”
“You absolutely were.”
“…I refreshed your feeds a couple times!”
“ROMANTIC!” You gasp.
“Super normal behaviour.” he mutters, fingers already deftly undoing the zipper of your dress. Pulling his hands away from your back he lifts a hand to your face brushing a thumb under your eye where mascara has started to smudge.
“You tired?”
You shake your head immediately.
“No. I’m obsessed with you.”
Morgan freezes for half a second, caught between amusement and that soft affection he never quite hides well.
“That’s the tequila talking.”
You grab his hoodie strings, tugging him closer.
“Nope. Been like this since 2017, think it’s terminal.”
That earns a quiet laugh, the kind he only does when it’s just the two of you.
“Alright,” he murmurs despite the blush coating his cheeks. “Let’s get you comfy before you start declaring love to the furniture.”
His big hands cup your face as he gently uses a wipe to remove the bulk of your makeup. Not the best, not your usual standard but you’d feel much better in the morning so Morgan is taking his little victories.
“Morgan.”
“Hm?”
“You’re really pretty.”
He sighs, smiling despite himself.
“Thank you.”
“Like… offensively pretty.”
Morgan laughs properly now, shaking his head as he attempts to swap your dress for a set of your pyjamas.
“Not them ones!” you whine, crossing your arms across your bare chest.
“What do you mean love, it’s your pyjamas?”
“Want your top tonight squish.” you pout. The pout only increases when he goes to get a top from his drawer.
“What?” He laughs at you, fully just wanting to sleep at this point.
“I want the one you’ve got on!” You exclaim like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Smells like you, need that one for bed.”
He scoffs before removing his shirt and helping you get it over your head. You immediately crawl into bed once it’s on, arms reaching for him before he’s even settled.
“Stay.”
“I’m staying.”
He slides in beside you and you attach yourself instantly leg hooked over his, face tucked under his chin, fingers grabbing into his bare chest like you’re making sure he can’t disappear.
Downstairs you hear Mikey laughing loudly followed by Heather telling him to shut up. A door closes. Someone drops something. The house settles into its usual late-night chaos.
You mumble sleepily, already drifting.
“Love you.”
His reply comes instantly, like breathing.
“Love you too.”
Within minutes your breathing evens out, completely gone.
Morgan stays awake a little longer, thumb tracing lazy circles on your shoulder, listening to the quiet sounds of the house and the steady rhythm of you sleeping against him.
Spike eventually jumps onto the bed with a satisfied huff, curling at your feet like security detail.
Your fingers twitch against his chest even in sleep, automatically tightening like you’re checking he’s still there. He stills instantly, hand smoothing over your hair.
He leans back into the pillows, finally relaxing now that you’re here, warm and heavy against him. The house noises fade into background comfort laughter, footsteps, doors closing life continuing around you.
A few minutes pass, then you mumble.
“…Morgan.”
“Yeah, baby?” He looks down immediately.
Your eyes never open.
“…did I embarrass myself tonight?”
The question is soft. Sleepy. Vulnerable in that honest drunk-afterglow way. Morgan huffs a quiet laugh, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
“Course not.”
A pause.
“…Ellie called you angry fucking ginger again.” you whisper, deeply offended on his behalf even unconscious.
He snorts.
“Sounds about right that.”
You hum, satisfied with his response, already drifting again. Another beat passes before you add, “…told everyone you’re fit.”
His eyebrows lift. “Oh yeah?”
“Mhm… said I’d climb you like a tree…”
Morgan presses his lips together, trying not to laugh loud enough to wake you.
“Very respectful trouble, cheers.”
You nod weakly against his chest.
“…also told the Uber driver you miss me when I go to Tesco.”
He actually laughs this time, shoulders shaking.
“Did you now?”
“…he understood.”
“Aye, I bet he did.”
Your breathing evens again, conversation forgotten mid-thought.
