Lauren Jauregui Imagines

Gorillas

Listen to “Gorilla" by Bruno Mars while reading.

“She's dancing again tonight," he reminded the girl as she adjusted and tuned the strings on her electric guitar. “And there's no doubt that she's going to put on a show for you."

“Or for the hundreds of customers that come in here and throw money at her like she's a piece of — never mind. Are you ready? Tonight's crowded and we need to be on our best shit."

“When have I ever not been ready?" Nate, the drummer blushed sheepishly at the look his best friend and lead vocals singer and guitarist gave him.

“Okay that was only one time, and I was only a little drunk."

“Yeah drunk and sprung on a girl that wouldn't give you the time of day." Katherine, the bass guitarist chimed in after grabbing her instrument.

“Whatever Kat, where's Hendrik? He was the first one here."

“Right here little man." Hendrik, the band's keyboard specialist and co songwriter walked into the room, closing the door on a bunch of groupies that followed him back to the band's dressing room.

“Still chasing after young, dumb bitches huh?" Y/N chided with humor.

“Uh, all of us aren't lucky enough to be fucking the baddest striper in this bitch."

“Yeah, I mean, we all know the only reason we get these gigs here is because Lauren requests us — mainly you. She looks you when she's dancing like you're the master she's trying so hard to please." Katherine said.

“OR, maybe we're invited back because we fucking rock and as for Lauren, quit talking about her. Get your heads in the music."

“She's just mad because she wants her head between Lauren's legs." Hendrik teased, earning a death glare from the younger girl.

“You three make me fucking sick." She brushed past her hysteric band mates and walked towards the backstage area. But they were right. She DID want Lauren all for herself, and she did want her head between those supple legs — but that couldn't happen. She couldn't have the green eyed vixen all for herself and it killed her a little on the inside.

“And now, Eccentric welcomes the amazing talent of Rising Monsoons and Eccentric's prized possession — MORGADO."

*Que Song*

The band made their way onto the stage with a few applauses, the sound of guitars plugging into the speakers filling the room before the quartet started the sensual beat of their song. And then the applauses became harder and the wolf whistling started. SHE — MORGADO was about to steal the show - and a few hard earned dollars.

Her body swayed as she walked towards center stage, a long black Burberry trench coat covering what was sure to be little to nothing underneath. She wore an apparent set of stockings with connecting grater belts and a pair of black pumps with red soles. Baby was walking sex.