#the beatles fluff

[givemequeen]

First Time; Paul McCartney fanfic

request; hI it’s the one that wants the fluffy virgin Paul smut lmaoo forgot to say it’s like teddy boy Paul ‼️ Could you please please please do a Paul and virgin reader fic? a/n; hi pairing; Paul x reader summary; first time w/ teddy boy paulwarnings; mentions of abuse year; late 50s/early 60s word count; 2838

"I got the new Elvis album, is it alright?" asked Paul over his shoulder.

You nodded and quickly realised he couldn't see you. "Yes," you said, clearing your throat.

Your eyes roamed the room, it was small with just his bed, desk, a bookshelf and a guitar on the corner. The bookshelf had a couple of records, you could spot some of your favourite albums.

Paul carefully pulled the vinyl out of its sleeve and placed it on the turntable. He leaned over and placed the needle on the record with extreme concentration and delicacy. After a few crackles, Elvis' smooth voice filled the small room.

"You alright?" Paul asked as he sat down next to you. The side of his thigh touch yours, and you felt a tickling sensation in your heart.

"Yes Paulie, thank you." you said, not meeting his eyes.

He cupped your face, slowly moving you to face him. He scanned your eyes, his thumb brushing your cheek. You swallowed, eyes moving between his. Paul slowly leaned towards you, your lips met and you sighed, moving your lips against his. 

His hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. You moved, your leg swinging over his. You slid against his body and gasped when you felt his boner against yourself.

You felt him smile against the kiss and smiled back. His hands went to your hips, guiding them forwards and backwards against him. You quietly moaned into the kiss and tugged on the hairs at the back of his head. 

“Paul...” you moaned, pulling back and moving your hips faster, the friction making you groan.

He kissed your exposed neck, you titled your head sideways to give him more room. One of his hands went to your breasts, he squeezed them once and moved his hand under your shirt. You allowed him to cup your bare breast over your bra and moved faster. Paul reached behind you, one hand on your ass, and tugged on the bottom of your shirt.

“Can this come off?” he asked, pulling away from your neck to look up at you. You looked into his eyes and nodded. He briefly kissed you and pulled himself away from you. You lifted your arms above your head and helped Paul as he took your top off.

His eyes went to your breasts, he kissed the top of a breast and squeezed the other. You sighed, melting against him, your hands tugging on his hair, pulling him closer to your breasts.

Pauls hands slid back to your waist, he squeezed it and once more guided you forwards and backwards, pleasuring both you and himself.

“Paulie.” your murmured, Paul continued sucking on the skin not covered by the bra. “Paulie.” you repeated.

He pulled away and looked up to you, his hair a mess.

“Yes, love?” he said, his hands still guiding you.

“Only fair if yours comes off too.” you said, a grin on your face, tugging on his shirt.

“Cheeky.” he chuckled, letting you take his top off. 

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him backwards. Your hands went up and down his chest, your eyes taking all of him in. You leaned down and placed a kiss on his collarbone, then on his chest and then lower on his stomach. You glanced down at his happy trail, grinned, and looked up to meet his eyes. 

“Hi.” he smirked. 

“Hi.” you stepped off his lap and knelt on the ground in front of him. You fumbled with his belt while staring up at him.

“Hi.” he said again, lifting his hips so you could slide his pants down. Once they were around his ankles, you could see his boner through his boxers. You placed your hand on top of him, gasping at how hard it was.

“Fuck.” he said, moaning your name. He closed his eyes, his mouth gaping. “Please...”

You pulled the boxers down and let his cock spring out. Your eyes went wide as you wrapped your hands around it. Slowly, you pumped it up and down. You went on your knees, pulled your hair to the side, and kissed his stomach. You placed a kiss near, but not quite, the base of his cock.

His hand went to your hair, gathering it with his hand to form a ponytail. You looked up as your kisses neared his cock, your hand still around him, pumping it slowly. 

You pulled away and stared at the pink tip. There was some pre-cum leaking from his rock hard cock. You licked your lip and stared up at him as you kissed the tip. You wrapped your lips around the head and slowly took as much as you could into your mouth.

“Fuck...” Paul moaned, pushing your head further down.

You shut your eyes and breathed through your nose. Gagging, you pulled away and wiped the tears that had formed in your eyes.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked, his other hand flying to your cheek. He sat up as you coughed.

“Yes, I’m good. Lay back down.” you said. When he didn’t, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

You took his cock into your mouth again and began bobbing your head up and down, letting the head hit the back of your throat every now and again. You looked up and saw Paul looking back down at you, his mouth slightly open. He gulped and nodded, placing his hand back on your head and pushing you down slightly.

You took more of him into your mouth and let your tongue slide up and down the side of his cock. Your left hand went to his thigh, gripping it when his cock when too far, while your right went to the base of his cock, pumping him as you sucked his dick.

“I’m close.” he groaned, “Faster, please.” he pleaded, staring back down at you. He collected your hair and urged you to go faster. You complied, moving your hand and head faster.

You felt his dick slightly twitch inside your mouth, his breathing became faster and faster until you felt cum hit the back of your throat. His hips jolted forward, making his cock hit the back of your throat. You continued sucking but slowed down.

Once he finished, you stopped moving your head. He stroked your hair and you pulled away from his cock. You looked into his eyes and swallowed, his eyebrow shot up and a grin formed in his face. 

You smiled and picked up the glass of water on his bedside table. Paul sat up, pulling his boxers back on, and you sat down next to him, gulping. He hugged you and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” he laughed.

You smiled and kissed the top of his head.

“Love, can you open the drawer for me?” he said, you turned to look at him, suspicious of his tone. He smiled, something danced behind his eyes. “Please?” he turned his head to the side.

You narrowed your eyes and cautiously open the draw on his beside table. There, you found a packet of condoms. You eyebrows shot up and you gasped. You plucked one up and turned to face him.

“I got them yesterday.” he said sheepishly. 

“Oh.” you said, your eyes glued on the condom.

You had talked about it with him and knew you wanted to do it sometime soon. The fact he had gone ahead and bought them excited you. You flipped the little square around and felt a grin tug at your lips.

Paul placed his hand on your lower back, it felt warm against your bare skin. His other hand went to your thigh, he squeezed and looked up at you.

“Do you want to?” he said softly. “We don’t have to, just in case.” he placed a kiss on your cheek, you rested your head on his shoulder and smiled.

“I...” you looked up at him, his eyes wide in anticipation. “I do want to, do you?”

A grin lit his whole face up. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “Yes, of course.” he cleared his throat and smiled. “If you want to, that is.”

“I do.”

He nodded and you awkwardly stared at each other, the condom in your hand. 

“So...” you said after a long silent moment of just staring at each other.

Grinning, he leaned in and kissed you by surprise. His hands went to the back of your bra, his fingers on the clasp of it. “This alright?” he asked, fumbling with the bra and moving to kiss your collarbone.

“Mmhm.” you nodded, missing his wet kisses on your collarbone.

He single-handedly unclasped your bra. You giggled and let him push you back so you laid flat against his bed. He climbed on top of you, his hands on either side of your head, and slightly rested his body weight on you.

He continued kissing you, your hands went to his hair and his back. You felt his boner through his boxers pressing against you, right were you wanted him the most. Your skirt had rolled up to your waist, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you.

Paul swore against your lips and rolled his hips. You gasped, and nudged him with the heel of your foot, urging him to continue. You moved your own hips against his, enjoying how he moaned against your lips.

His hand travelled from the side of your head downwards, he squeezed your hip and moved his weight to the side of the bed. He rolled your skirt all the way up, revealing your underwear. He glanced up at you, looking into your eyes through his eyelashes.

You gasped, sucking a breath in, as he lifted the band of your underwear and slipped his hand in. You pressed your lips shut and he slowly slid down to where you needed him the most. His hand finally reached you and you let out the breath, squeezing his shoulder.

“Is it okay?” he asked as he slipped a finger in. You nodded, biting your lower lip. “I want to hear you say it, love.”

“Yes.” you said. “It’s more than okay.” you added.

Paul curled his finger and smiled as you lifted your hips, silently begging for more. While maintaining eye contact, he slipped another finger in. Your hand shot the one between your legs, you grabbed his wrist and gasped. Holding his hand, you rolled your hips and sighed.

“You’re so wet and tight for me.” he whispered against your ear.

You shivered, the hairs in your arm standing up. You moaned and nodded, rolling your hips again.

“Let me.” he kissed the spot behind your ear and you nodded again, relaxing against the bed.

He curled his finger, sliding them in and out. His thumb went to your clit, rubbing it slowly. You moaned, holding onto his hair. You pulled his hair back and kissed his exposed neck. You spread your legs further for him and moaned his name.

“That’s it, love.” he kissed your neck and quickened his pace, sliding the finger in and out over and over again. Your breathing quickened and you smiled in delight, your eyes squeezing shut.

“I want...” you moaned.

“Want what? Use your words.” he said, a cheeky grin playing on his lips.

“I want this.” You placed your hand over his erection.

He didn’t need to be told twice, he slipped his fingers out of you and reached over you to the bedside table where you had previously placed the condom. You laid on your back, smiling. He rested his weight on his heels, ripped the condom and slipped it on.

He stroked himself and climbed on top of you again. He aligned himself and looked up at you. “Ready?” he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You looked back at him and nodded. He pushed himself into you and you gasped. Paul stopped and waited.

“Okay, continue.” you said. “Slowly, please.” you added, gripping his shoulder.

“Of course, love. We can go as slow or fast as you want, okay?” he kissed your forehead again and moved a little further in. You sucked your breath in as he pushed further in, you moaned his name, loving how good and big he felt inside of you.

“Oh, Paul...” you softly moaned, your fingers went to his hair. You gently tugged on his hair as he slid all the way in.

“Fuck.” he moaned, dropping his head onto your shoulder. He stayed still, allowing you to catch your breath. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed your heel against him, urging him to bottom out. He rested his weight on top of you and you sighed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, it feels good.” you said, your eyes tightly shut.

“Open your eyes, I want to look you in the eye when I cum in you.” your eyes flew open, cheeks burning up. Paul chuckled at your reaction and kissed your forehead. “Can I start moving?” 

You nodded and Paul started to slowly move his hips, sliding in and out of you. You bit your lower lip, attempting to maintain eye contact with him. He pushed inside of you and you grunted.

“Let me hear those moans, love.” he whispered, his head falling on your shoulder as she slowly sped up.

Obediently, you moaned his name. “Oh fuck Paul, please, please.”

“Yes, keep going.” he moaned, moving his hips faster.

You grabbed onto his shoulders and squeezed, loving how hard he was fucking you. “Harder.” your hand slid to the back of his neck and holding it tightly.

Paul complied and fucked you harder, causing the bed to start moving. You squeezed yourself around him and arched your back, pressing your body against his.

“I felt that.” he chuckled, gently biting your shoulder.

“Fuck, Paul. It feels so good.” you moaned, pulling on the hairs at the back of his head. “Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planing on stopping.” he turned to look at you and smiled. He held your gaze, those deep brown eyes staring deep into you. You felt a warm sensation in your heat, like somebody had cracked a warm egg on your chest. The feeling spread across your heart and down to your stomach, where pressure was building.

“Are you close?” Paul whispered, almost as if he had just read your mind.

“Yes, I think so.” you squeezed your legs. “Faster.” you begged, staring right back at him.

Paul quickened his pace and let his fingers slip between your bodies. Instinctively, they immediately found the spot where you needed them most. He drew circles with his fingers, drawing out your moans. 

“Paul, please, please.” you begged.

“Please what? Use your words.” he said, whispering your name.

“Please let me cum.” you gasped. He smiled, spreading your legs further. His pace changed, slowly sliding in and out of you. He pulled his body away and looked between you.

“You look so good, taking my cock so well.” he said. “So fucking good, you do it so well, love.”

His words reached deep within you and, almost like a needle, popped the balloon of pressure that he been building up. You arched your back, moving your hips against his cock, riding him. The feeling was almost too much, your hands flew to his hair where you pulled on it. Paul pushed inside of you, his fingers quickening.

“Just like that, yes.” he encouraged, kissing your neck and cheek softly. “Good girl.”

“Paul-” you moaned, his words, fingers, and cock doing wonders. “Fuck.” you collapsed on the bed but Paul didn’t stop. His hips pushed against yours, speeding up.

“I’m gonna cum.” he said, his head dropping to your shoulder. You cried out his name, tugging his hair harder. “Yes, fuck, that’s driving me crazy, don’t stop.”

“Paulie, please.” you moaned, his cock relentlessly fucking you. “Please cum in me, I want you to cum in me.” you managed to say.

Paul looked up at you. “Look at me, this is what you do to me.” He pushed his hips against you, going as deep as he possibly could. You gasped, not knowing that was possible. Paul slammed into you three more times, each time harder.

Once he was done, he collapsed on top of you, his cock still nuzzled inside of you and head against your chest. You let go of his hair and gently ran your fingers through it, your nails tracing patterns on his scalp. He hummed against you and start to move to get out of you.

“Don’t.” you stopped him. “Just a little longer.” you pleaded.

“Okay, my love, whatever you want.” he kissed you. “Did you enjoy it?” he murmured. 

“Yes.” you said, letting a breath out. “A lot, we should’ve done it earlier.”

He chuckled, you felt it deep in your soul.

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[nadjaraspberry]

“… and then when i’m while away, i’ll write home everyday, and i’ll send all my loving to you.. i’ll pretend that i’m kissing, the cheeks that i’m missing, and hope that my dreams will come true..”

#do u think he sings the beatles as lullabies to help baby yuuji sleep #nanami kento #yuuji itadori #baby yuuji #illustration #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #im sorry but in my house nanami is his father #THATS FATHER AND SON RIGHT THERE #jjk fanart #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #dad nanami is the best #dad!nanami #son!yuuji #jjk art

[temozarela]

-> isn't it good, norwegian wood?

GETO X READER MDNI, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut, angsty geto, comfort, reader is kinda tired, plot

you and geto meet 6 years after his defection

WORD COUNT: 8.6k

TAGS: @sakuichan, @username23345

part 1

ao3 version

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You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. You were supposed to be completing a report but the sun had long set and your brain refused to cooperate. Down-heartedly, you buried your head in your hands, stifling a yawn. Everything just seemed so… bad. Your hair was greasy, you were beginning to smell yourself through your deodorant and perfume, your coffee was cold, and you were the only person left in the office. Even Nanami had gone home 2 hours prior, leaving you to struggle over your half-finished report. Unfortunately for yourself and your coworkers, there has been an influx of curse users in Japan, meaning that your compulsory hours had been increased. At first you were delighted by the idea of some extra pocket money, but with all of the work you had been doing, there was no time to enjoy it. You knew it was getting worse too, you hadn't seen Gojo in a week and Shoko’s dark circles were deepening with every wave of injured sorcerers that washed up at her office. Of course, the higher-ups weren’t any help, so it had become the norm for you to wake up at 6am and return home at 10pm as you cracked down on the damages that the elders refused to assist with. This had been happening for a few months now, and you were exhausted. If it were any other situation, you’d request time off, but you knew that your coworkers would take on the burden if you didn’t. So there you were, fingers hovering over the keys as you tried to recount your hectic shift. It seemed so cruel, after stepping over so many dead bodies and dodging death countless times yourself, to be forced to relive it so soon. If they wanted to know what was happening, they could see for themselves. In fact, you’d welcome it. Maybe then, they’d dish out the work a bit more ethically.

You blinked slowly, attempting to force a rise of energy inside of you. You didn’t want to fall asleep at work again. Somewhere in the background, rain pattered against the windows. Shit. You reluctantly glanced at your screen, squinting at the brightness in contrast with the dark room. Realistically, you knew that you weren’t going to get anything else done that night, but you also knew that if you didn’t do it then, you would have to do it later. You groaned, wanting to slam your head against your desk more than anything. Tomorrow. You’d do it tomorrow. If you went home then and had a decent sleep, you’d be more motivated tomorrow. That’s what you told yourself. You were more than happy to turn the computer off and pack up your belongings. More and more, you were glad that you commuted by train, because the naps you took then were sacred, driving would’ve pushed you over the edge.

Arriving home looked like throwing your shit on the floor and staring blankly at the fridge, realising you were supposed to shop for groceries that day. Tomorrow you were headed into the countryside to check out suspicious activity, there was no way you’d be able to get your shopping done then. Usually you did city missions, but you were covering for the students. God knows they were doing too much as well. You sighed. There were enough ingredients for you to cook a meal, but you were so tired right now… you could go without… just for one night. Some nights you didn’t even change out of your clothes and you had given up on makeup a while back. At this point, your home felt like it was only your bed. Your TV, speakers, sofas, and books had gone untouched for so long, you’d be surprised if they weren’t blanketed with dust by now. You showered, of course, but it seemed like a mere blink before your body hit your bed. Sleep didn’t rest you anymore, but it was some sort of break in the chaos of your life. At the very least, you were happy to have that.

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The commute into rural Japan was pleasantly silent. It relaxed you to watch the swaying meadows roll past, the white splodges of sheep like a stroke of oil paint as the train hurtled past. You vaguely registered one or two others on the other side of the carriage, you remembered the monk especially. To your knowledge, it was your first time seeing a monk in public. Initially, the journey had been like any other: salesmen upon salesmen, and then a few. Each figure amongst the shuffling mass clad in a suit and tie, dark hair brushed back, and mouths set in a practised line between grey, hollow cheeks as they scrutinised each other through their furrowed eyebrows like some sort of Kubrick character. As the familiar robotic voice announced the train’s arrival at the city-centre, an encore of clicking shoes and soft whines of swinging briefcases played in a harsh crescendo, the piece hitting its chorus as the doors opened, and the salesmen poured out like river water through a broken dam. After that, it was quiet. On a weekday morning, not many were heading into the middle of nowhere, but it made sense to you that a monk might. The other man looked like a foreigner, so that wasn’t widely suspicious to you either, though you might have considered it further had you slept more the previous night. After an hour or so, your eyelids fluttered shut and you began to drift in and out of sleep, the beginnings of gentle conversation between the few other passengers barely registered by you, their low voices becoming incomprehensible as they were drowned out by the ambience of the train. Perhaps, if you had been more alert, you would have noticed that they were heading to the location of the investigation. Maybe, if you had realised that, you would have listened closer and overheard the utterance of a very familiar name. However, the world around you was in limbo, your drowsiness dosing your nerves in soothing honey as your eyelashes rested against your warm cheeks. Sleep was euphoric. It had become such a relief to you that you had abandoned any hopes of seeking pleasure through strangers or potential romantic interests, the effort of understanding and compromising was exhausting in itself and your mind still hadn’t gotten over your teen fling. You thought about it sometimes, the potential to reunite with him, but every year it seemed more and more impossible. Since he left, your coworkers relied on you more and watched you with the underlying concern that one day you would slip through their fingers. Although, another reason lingered at the back of your head. It had been 6 years, did he even still want you? You told others that you had moved on, but he waited at the back of your mind, tapping his foot impatiently. He appeared in your dreams as a looming shadow, only recognisable through the kind smile it bore. You also saw him sometimes in the faces of others, their dark eyes making you stop in the headlight of their stare- so close, yet so different to the expression you could love. Besides those torturous reminders, what you could remember of him was hazy, in fact you barely remembered what he looked like. That didn’t stop you from missing him, however. You remembered the comfort he once brought you. Perhaps that was what you missed most, more than his body or charm.

You blinked hazily as the train approached your stop. Lethargically, you reached for your bags, pulling them over your shoulder as you stepped off into the station, distantly followed by the other two passengers from your carriage. You winced as you finally made it outside, light rain beginning to fall from the greying sky. However, it was fulfilling to inhale the fresh air- much fresher than the air at Shibuya station- as you rushed to your taxi, and drove towards the investigation site which, today, was an abandoned hospital. Before your arrival, you instantly knew there was something wrong. It wasn’t unusual that the area was void of human life, after all, it wasn’t near any residential areas. Sure, it wasn’t particularly unusual that the plantation was yellow and clearly overgrown either. However, two of the windows on the second floor had been shattered, which wasn’t particularly unusual by itself, but the broken shards were littered below the outside of the building, rather than the inside. See, that was unusual. It had been broken from inside. Someone had needed to escape. Fast. Discreetly. There were fire exits left, right, and centre- as you’d expect from a hospital- it was strange that someone would choose to evacuate from a window on the second story. You knew it must have been an ugly building, even before it was neglected, the dull boxiness of the hospital seeming like the kind of brutalist hellscape you’d find in a post-Soviet city. The upper edges of the building were blackened by the weather, and the only visible colour could be found in the yellowed blinds which clattered and trembled behind the savaged windows. Your wary gaze found a half-filled syringe containing ominous orange liquid, discarded in the mud. It made sense since it was a hospital… but when you really thought about it… how did it end up there? It looked like this place had been practically untouched since its closure which was… probably around 10 years ago…

A shiver ran down your spine.

If the curse had anything to do with needles, you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around, you decided.

You hadn’t really been given clear instructions, in fact, you weren’t given much more than a place and a time. With a glance at your watch, you noted that you were 5 minutes early as planned, so it made some sort of sense to why you couldn’t see the window you were supposed to be meeting. It was only meant to be a quick chat to fill you in on the details before you looked for yourself, but you had assumed they may have arrived a little early anyway. Apparently that wasn’t the case, so you waited in the rain, feet planted in the overgrown grass and shivering as cold droplets trickled down your neck. The next time you checked your watch, it was the time of the meeting, and there wasn’t a single person in sight. Momentarily, you considered venturing inside. Maybe something had happened to them. You glanced around. The guy couldn’t have gotten lost, could he? It’s a pretty obvious landmark.

10 minutes late.

You were getting restless. And drenched.

The window could wait, you were heading inside.

The front door was unlocked, most likely in anticipation of your visit, and you walked into what you assumed had once been the reception. Everything was so… grey. You could tell that at one point, they had made an effort of decorating with bright colours, but years of neglect had sucked out the life like a backstreet dentist, leaving everything the same dull grey; not to discount the slight variations such as grey-with-a-hint-of-mustard-yellow and grey-but-slightly-pink-but-it’s-mostly-grey-who-are-you-fooling. It stank of wet paper and what you prayed wasn’t asbestos, as well as a lingering trace of chemicals. The mould was a delightful pop of colour however, adding a daring element of almost-grey-but-green onto the aged, pale wallpaper. You grimaced, seriously considering whether the window had been organised to hand over a hazmat suit and a Bible before you gave your life to spilled cleaning agents and an undiscovered fungus. Perhaps they’d name it after you when you died. It was the least they could do, really.

After you journeyed up the dark stairs, you approached the operating rooms, and a wash of dread doused you like cold water. Whatever it was, you were close to it. Very close.

Because of your distinct lack of briefing, you barely knew who or what you’d be facing. There was a growing feeling that you recognised something, whether it was the cursed energy signature from the imminent threat or the familiar arms of your creator, it sparked a powerful reaction in your gut. You squinted, trying to make out the outline of the doorway using the little daylight that reached the corridor. You couldn’t help but notice how it was shockingly tidy. Sure, it was fucking disgusting, but everything was in its right place, tucked away by the ghostly hands of a nurse one decade ago. For some reason, it made it all the more terrifying. You stopped in front of the door, attempting to breathe through the suffocating pressure of whatever was beyond the door. It really was familiar, but it was too powerful for you to focus on it. It was like trying to fight a court trial whilst being waterboarded, and you weren’t entirely sure you could do it in normal conditions anyway, but you definitely couldn’t whilst partially submerged in liquid. You knew that for sure. The sheer amount of cursed energy seeping through the cracks of the door was headache-inducing. You gritted your teeth.

It was disastrously clear, then. Whatever or whoever was on the other side of the door was not your intended opponent. This mission should’ve been a field trip for you. This, however. This was a Gojo-level enemy. Not as strong, of course, but it lay somewhere in the gaping gap between the strongest grade 1 sorcerer and Gojo himself. Needless to say, it was too strong for you. You could accept that fact easily. In all honesty, your pride had left you the moment you entered the hospital.

Slowly, you backed away from the door, eyes fixed on the source of the outrageous cursed energy signature. It was consuming, the same way smoke engulfs a room. Your breaths were shallow and your limbs felt numb, you were probably shaking too, but you knew it would be ok if you kept your existence unknown and made a nimble escape. As dull light began to assist your vision, relief filled you. You were almost out. A few more steps and you’d be back in the stairwell. Then you could run.

Except you couldn’t. Because your back had hit a wall. A wall that hadn’t been there before.

You looked left, then right.

No… there definitely… shouldn’t be a wall behind you…

Oh, God.

“Are you the window?” you nervously grinned at nobody in particular. You were staring too, wide-eyed at the dark corridor before you, well-aware of your hands shaking, “You’re awfully late, you know…”

“My apologies.”

“Ha…”

The sound of a smooth, human voice was somewhat of a relief to you.

You could talk your way out of this one.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for this for a very… long… time...”

…Or maybe you couldn’t.

Inwardly you groaned, wanting to cry, “Fancy being a good Samaritan and forgive me for my sins?” you tried. It was always worth preaching kindness to your potential murderer in what could very well be your final moments. They didn’t teach that at school, but it must’ve worked at least once before, right?

“Enlighten me.” The person- a man- behind you sounded stiff.

“I dunno,” you smiled weakly, “It might seem difficult to believe but… there could be a few people who’d have a bone to pick with me right now.”

The man behind you hummed in thought, “I’m shocked.”

“Really?” Since you started working more hours, you’d dealt with countless curse users. It’d be a surprise to you if there wasn’t a request for your bounty for you on some dodgy website. As much as you’d love a copy of your own ‘DEAD OR ALIVE’ poster to frame, the ‘ALIVE’ part terrified you. Unfortunately, being a wanted person wasn’t quite the honour that Luffy made it out to be.

“No.”

You scowled. In response, the man’s voice rang out behind you, “You don’t recognise me?”

“Aww,” you turned your head slightly to grin over your shoulder, “Did you think you were special? I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear that we weren’t gonna be exclusive.”

Suddenly you were being spun around.

“Are you sure that you don’t recognise me?”

You blinked.

You blinked twice.

That voice…

“Holy shit.”

The man looked at you in the dark.

“You’re that monk from the train.” …No… you knew him...

The man’s grip on you tightened, “Come on...”

You winced, “Is that… not it?” When he didn’t reply, you partially disregarded your fear in lieu of guilt, leaning closer to squint at him, “I can’t really see, sorry...”

“Oh, hang on-”

No, you definitely recognised him… buried deep in your subconscious… somewhere…

“Holy shit.” you exclaimed.

“Geto?”

Exasperated, Geto looked down at you.

“Obviously.”

“Sorry.” you smiled, sheepishly, “You wouldn’t have happened to see a window around here, would you?”

Geto’s frowned, “There never was one, it was a set-up.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to intercept the students… but you’re here instead.” You cringed.

Man, he’s pissed…

“Geeze, sorry.” you drawled.

It was strange seeing him again. Truthfully, you had no idea how to act around him. You still couldn’t see him very well, but the glistening gold silk on his robes made him shine like a heavenly figure, though considering his criminal record… he probably wouldn’t be an angel.

There were better places to run into your teen crush-turned-serial killer.

“There’s a special grade curse in there.” you pointed to the operating room you’d just backed away from.

Geto looked at you strangely, “I know, I put it there.”

Of course.

“Seriously?” you muttered, embarrassed, “Almost gave me a heart attack, you know…”

An awkward silence arose between the two of you. You had planned your reunion with him countless times when you were younger. Out of the hundreds of different scenarios, none of them started like this.

“I… um…” you scratched the back of your neck, “Wanna go outside? It’s just… it’s dark in here… I can’t, you know…” you cleared your throat, “I can’t see you.”

“It’s raining.” Geto replied dubiously, watching you as if he expected something,

You raised an eyebrow, “You scared or somethin’?”

Geto snorted, “Of course not, excuse me for not wanting to get soaked.”

“Right.” you’d forgotten about the rain, it wasn’t difficult to believe that it had gotten heavier than before, “We can sit in the reception if you don’t mind getting mesothelioma.”

“It’s not exactly ideal,” Geto sighed, “but sure that works.”

You wanted to slap yourself for the awkwardness between the two of you, but there was something about it which reminded you of your fondness for Geto. That was it, wasn’t it? The fact you were always able to be a social disaster around him was what initially drew you to him. He was patient, but not pitiful. Truthfully, sometimes he was even worse than you.

He followed you to the bottom floor as you headed towards the front door. Once you were outside, you turned to get a proper look at him. True, he was recognisable, but he had changed so much in these last years. Notably, Geto’s face had slimmed, emphasising the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the hollowness of his cheeks. He was less of a boy now, and if you hadn’t known him beforehand, he would’ve intimidated you. His hair was longer too, the strands framing his face reached the peak of his nose whilst the rest touched his lower back. Geto’s eyes were exactly how you remembered them though; deep and pensive. He had the kind of resting expression which made you second guess yourself when you suggested something. It had always seemed that with every casual, self-deprecating joke, Geto was analysing it, carefully peeling the fragile layers of the satirical overtones to expose your innermost vulnerabilities. To many, it was unnerving. Any casual comment intended to pull a negligent laugh from others received a dark, analytical look from Geto. That’s how it had always been, and it’s why you had taken a liking to him. Often, you couldn’t find the confidence to admit to distress or insecurity, but Geto always knew. He knew from the way you would chastise yourself for the smallest mistakes, and the fact you’d stop talking when you were overwhelmed. You didn’t have to say anything, and that was a relief to you. Geto knew. You wondered if he knew how you were feeling now- you sure didn’t.

“Are you ok?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. He was always difficult to read but he just looked at you. He wasn’t glaring, he wasn’t staring, he was just… looking. You watched him expectantly. “Geto?” you pressed. Geto didn’t respond, at least verbally. He just looked moderately pained, as he once did when he’d linger in the morgue with Shoko. His eyes flickered from you to the ground, almost… shyly? Was he shy?

“I was waiting for you.” Geto muttered, “You never came.”

Oh. Yeah.

Nevermind.

The honeymoon of your reunion ended with the clanging of a guillotine over cupid’s head. Inside of you, a small, childish hope had foolishly sprouted, praying that he’d be understanding. You cringed as you felt it shrivel up in the deepest depth of your gut, the blossoms blackening and ripping as it rotted within you.

“You act like your defection didn’t permanently scar the jujutsu society.” Geto raised his eyebrows, “Yes, it did.” you pressed before he could protest, “I couldn’t leave, even if I had wanted to. Yaga and Gojo wouldn’t let me out of their sight.”

And just like that, you were arguing.

“Did you even try?” he scoffed.

You groaned, “Believe it or not, Geto, becoming the housewife of a wanted criminal isn’t quite on my agenda. In fact, because of you I have more work to do than ever. We all do.”

“Just because everyone else is willing to suffer a poor job doesn’t mean you have to in order to save them.” Geto narrowed his eyes.

“Sure, but some don’t have a choice.” you challenged, “Remember Gojo?”

Geto scoffed, “Remember Satoru? Of course I do.” It was a low blow, you realised, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel guilty. “Who do you think I am?” he asked, voice low and hurt.

You shifted, awkwardly, “You left him to suffer.”

“He’s suffering?” Geto’s tone dulled.

You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry, “You thought he wouldn’t?” a pause. “Well,” you added, quietly, “I don’t know if he’s realised it yet but… yeah, he is.”

“Oh.” Geto’s lips thinned, offence flashing in his narrowed gaze, “Why would you tell me that?” he muttered, flinching backwards as if your words had punctured him like a misfired bullet.

“You wanted to know why I didn’t join you. That’s why.” You looked away, failing to grasp for words that would just fix things between you, “Well, that amongst other reasons…” You didn’t want to explain your own turmoil and struggles. Love didn’t equate to trust. You loved his touch and who he was, but you couldn’t trust the man in front of you to hear you and react fairly. It was all too predictable, and you feared that if you told him, your instincts would be proven. Sure, he’d always been cunning and sly, but also… manipulative. The word struggled to materialise in your brain, your subconscious trying to sugarcoat it as ‘intelligence’ and ‘caring’ in its reluctance to face his change.

His upset gaze softened, “Other reasons?”

You shook your head, “It’s not important right now.”

“I’d beg to differ.” Geto argued, “I have a right to know.” He was pushing you, testing you, even. You weren’t in the right headspace for this, you were so tired… so, so tired…

“You have no such right,” you scoffed, “but I apologise that you weren’t prepared for the consequences of your own actions.” A tense moment passed and you sighed, “If it helps, I wasn’t either.”

It was a poor attempt at softening the blow of your unfiltered words, but it wasn’t untrue. Betrayal pinched and poked at the supple flesh of your heart. You needed to realise it but… it wasn’t that easy. “No,” Geto stepped towards you, “It doesn’t.”

“Pity.” you rolled your eyes.

The dry remark left your lips before you could stop yourself. Geto froze. The silence that followed weighed on your shoulders, guilt creeping up on you.

“I’m sorry.” you murmured, “I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up.”

The crawling discomfort at your own insincerity grasped your shoulders with heavy talons, the needle-sharp fingertips grazing your gentle skin, teasing your raw skin as blood threatened to bead in their wake and flow.

“It’s fine.” Geto said, stiffly.

You groaned internally, it all felt so childish. For a fleeting moment, you questioned the boy you once knew. Was Geto the boy who’d read with you on those humid summer nights, or was he the unsettling murderer in front of you?

“I wasn’t expecting you to keep to your promise.” he added, bluntly.

“I mean, I was 17,” you agreed carefully, “I had no idea what the future would hold. Neither did you.”

It was a lifeline, the final one you could spare. You could only beg that Geto would catch it with splayed hands.

Geto looked at you with scrutiny, “That’s true.”

It was enough. You could work with this.

You watched him warily, nodding slowly.

“Was it worth it?” Geto asked, seemingly more neutral.

Was it worth it?

“I don’t know.” You replied, honestly, “Things could be better.”

Geto stepped forward, putting his hand on your shoulder, “Then come with me. If things are worse, go back and I’ll take the blame.”

All too forward, predictable and exactly what you feared.

“…if you want to,” he added a second too late.

With narrowed eyes, you ignored him, instead choosing to glance around the clearing, noting the same emptiness as before. Geto didn’t move, his hair starting the curl as rain drenched the two of you. His hand on your shoulder started to feel heavy as he squeezed you gently, letting the presence of his reluctant affection be known, despite his hard stare. What could you do? You were still as unsure as you were 6 years ago about joining him.

“Where are you staying?” you asked, the action of your head cocking allowing cold droplets to trickle down the side of your neck. You regretted it instantly. Perhaps a change of environment would help things. Perhaps it’d help you understand.

“Not far from here.” Geto responded monotonously.

“I’d like to come over.” you tried, “Not for long.”

He nodded to himself, “Ok.”

Then he spared you a small smile and your heart leaped with the first and only genuine affection he’d shown you since you’d reunited.

That was him. That was Geto, right there. It wasn’t much, but you revelled in what you had.

You inwardly sighed, tiredly.

Maybe, just maybe, the two of you would get there in the end.

As you journeyed to his home, which really was in the middle of nowhere, you sat side by side in what was mostly silence. The two of you talked too, dropping shallow comments about your lives and complaints about the overly-touchy couple on the other side of the carriage as you took the train a few stops further out. More and more, Geto seemed like himself, even if the progress was minuscule. It was something. If anything, hope thumped in your chest- naive hope albeit, but hope nonetheless. After a while, you finally approached his home. It looked small, yet lived-in. Outside, rows of vegetation orbited the building, as well as trees bearing fruit in various stages of ripeness.

“The girls are out, I’m afraid.” Geto called behind his shoulder as he unlocked the door, holding it open for you.

“Girls?” you inquired as you walked in, “Daughters or hostages?”

Geto laughed quietly, “Daughters.”

“You got a chick pregnant?” your response was paired with the twitch of your lip and the stutter in your step. You knew it was hypocritical, the sinking disappointment, you chastised yourself for feeling it… however...

The door clicked behind him and you heard his footsteps stilled behind you, “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” you replied, shortly.

“C’mon.”

You turned to look at him, blankly.

“Of course not.” Geto rolled his eyes.

You blinked, “Oh.”

“They’re adopted.” The way Geto said your name afterwards was in disbelief, “I told you I waited, didn’t I?”

“You may have mentioned it,” you sniffed, “yes.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, “You’re unbelievable,” he walked past you, brushing your shoulder as he did so, “you’re seriously more butthurt by that than the fact I murder people?”

“Ok?” you felt your cheeks burn, “And what if I am? I have priorities, Geto.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes boring into yours, “So, your priorities are… what, exactly?

“Um…” You scratched the back of your neck, “Nothin’” you waved your hand dismissively with a strained grin. “None of your business, really.” you rambled, searching desperately for some sort of a reaction, “You could use it against me, y’know? It’d be very dangerous if I told you.”

Geto looked at you strangely, “…Right.”

He was supposed to smile… or laugh… or do something at the very least, not just… walk past you…

You wanted to press rewind and try this all again.

You wanted to go home.

After a lost moment, you followed him helplessly. It was a simple home. There was more evidence of life there than there was at your home, you knew that for sure. Drawings that were clearly drawn by an adolescent hand were woven throughout the decorations, depicting a family of three. It was clear that they were close. You felt left out. It seemed you had missed out on so much. Maybe Geto was right, maybe this was a better life. It still didn’t remove your responsibility in the shaman world, but Gojo’s students were the strongest they’d seen in years, right? Maybe you were allowed this. Maybe you were allowed to welcome your lover as they walked through the door in the evening, embracing them softly. Maybe you could have this life. It seemed completely out-of-touch, you couldn’t just leave. You knew that. However… something was stopping you.

Geto led you to his kitchen, pouring you a glass of water.

“Oh?” you took the glass from him with a small smile.

Geto pushed it into your hands, “Don’t tell me you’ve miraculously stopped being so dehydrated since we last talked.”

He had a point, to be fair.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You took a sip of the cool water, “I don’t think I’ve had pure water for around 48 hours…” you murmured absentmindedly, the rim of the glass pressed against your lower lip as you spoke, your breath fogging up the glass.

Geto grimaced, “Shouldn’t you be taking care of yourself? You’re not a teenager anymore.” he looked at you, clearly unimpressed, “I just hope your diet is faring better.”

“You’d think, right?” you watched his lips thin.

Geto muttered your name under his breath, “Seriously?”

“Been too busy.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

You hummed pensively, “Good question.”

The way Geto spoke your name this time was dull, his eyebrows furrowed. You took a sip of water.

“Fine, I’ll cook you something now,” he turned his back on you, “do you still like spicy food?”

You watched as he gathered ingredients and boiled a pot of water. It was a shy wash of comfort, being back in his presence like this. Lord knows how long it had been since someone last took care of you. The rising smell of fresh vegetables seemed almost foreign to you at this point. Whilst the noodles were cooking, Geto disappeared momentarily as he changed into a baggy t-shirt and trousers. There he was, he was more like the man you remembered. Less tired, perhaps, though maybe you had taken on that burden in exchange. You didn’t speak as you idly sipped on the water, feeling like a small child as he cooked the first proper meal that you would eat in ages. He hummed softly as he mixed the broth, it was something you hadn’t seen him do before. His voice was low, almost inaudible, as he repeated the melody of a song you knew he loved…

What was it…?

Geto’s humming turned to soft singing as he stirred the broth.

…Isn’t it good?

Norwegian wood…

Oh, now you remembered it.

…She asked me to stay,

And she asked me to sit anywhere…

You hadn’t heard that song for years, not since he left. Geto used to play music as he cooked, ambling around the kitchen as he hummed to himself. You remembered how Gojo used to tease him about his ‘old man’ music. You did too. Affectionately, of course. It seemed so long ago, how you’d all linger in the doorway, despite his questionable music taste, hoping to grab a bite of whatever he was cooking. You forgot how good of a cook he was, you were looking forward to your meal.

As he cooked, the songs changed, ranging from ones you remembered to what you guessed were newer additions. When Geto began dishing up the food, he gestured for you to sit in the living room. And so you did, settling onto a sofa as you eagerly anticipated your meal. After a moment, he sat down opposite you, placing the bowl on the coffee table in front of you with a gentle tap.

You felt the warmth of the steam below your chin as you picked the bowl up.

“None for yourself?” you asked before experimentally sipping the broth.

It was as good as you remembered, you gladly noted.

Geto shook his head, “I already ate.”

“Ah.” you took a mouthful of noodles, “Makes sense.”

You ate in what was mostly stiff silence, interrupted by a few passing comments about the food or your lives. Out of the corner or your eye, you noticed Geto watching you, head resting on his hand. His lips were tugged into a pensive frown, his gaze gentle yet lost, as if a whirlwind of thoughts happened to be storming in his mind. Had you been less tired, maybe you’d be doing the same. Right now, however, you were enjoying some warm, hearty home cooking. Overthinking could wait, you were hungry.

“What will you do when you’re done here?” Geto asked suddenly, voice raised.

You swallowed your mouthful, studying him carefully, “Huh?”

“You would be less overworked if you reported me, so will you?”

What kind of question was that?

“I’m not gonna do that,” you swirled the noodles through the broth absentmindedly, “Though I do have a question…”

Geto raised an eyebrow.

“Assuming I don’t report you, I’ll be neutral,” slowly, you sat back, watching him, “Taking that neutrality assumes the side of the oppressor, then who do I side with?”

He sighed, “Me. Probably. That’s what you think, right?”

“Is it?,” your fingers drummed against the armrest, noting his tone like a pinch of salt mixed into a pot of honey, “Does that make Gojo the oppressed?”

“Going by that logic, yes,” he replied, too easily.

You took another mouthful, suddenly grateful for the distraction of eating, “And I?”

“Shooting yourself in the foot,” Geto said after a pause, “to you.”

“To me?” you echoed quietly, “I guess.”

“Still going to protect me?” Geto’s lip twitched as he watched you, ever-so carefully.

“I guess.” you repeated. The last thing you needed from him was a rivalry, you were initially hoping for a truce of some sort but the void darkness in his eyes drained the last hope you had. “I’m not here for justice or to solve anything, I’m here for money, mostly.”

Geto snorted shortly, “No different to the rest, then.”

“I guess not.” you chose to ignore the sting behind his words.

The two of you settled into waves of rumbling quiet as you finished your food. Geto seemed somewhat more distracted as he began to hum again, almost inaudible to you this time. You missed this- him, even. Despite the obvious, he held some sort of familiarity to you that not many did- now that you savoured. The two of you came together as you tried to fit together again, pushing and pulling at each other like oil and water.

“Y’know,” you placed the bowl down, “you’re acting all strange.”

Geto grinned, thinly, “Am I?”

“You are,” you couldn’t help but match his expression, “you know it too.”

His smile widened like the Cheshire cat, “Do I?”

“You do.”

A second of silence lugged by like a three ton truck.

“I missed you, Geto.”

The rain knocked against the windows gently, beading like crystals in front of the puffs of smoky black clouds consuming the sky. The lack of sunlight meant the room became darker too, the dim light doing little to relieve the gloominess of the bad weather. Outside, a wind chime rattled with the gust of the temperamental wind. Inside, the soft tapping of Geto’s fingers against the wooden table paused, leaving the ticking of the clock to slice through the ambient howling and tapping of the weather against the walls. Inside of you, however, your heart and brain played a tentative game of tug of war. You just did something big.

Like, really fucking big.

Well… not really, but nobody had told that to Geto, evidently, suggested by the way he gasped at you almost comically, eyebrows arched.

“I also like you, so if you wouldn’t mind fishing out the astronomical log up your ass, I’d like to have a conversation with you about it.”

Geto coughed, “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

You looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

“You didn’t even try to reach out to me.” he started, bluntly. “You didn’t try to find me. None of you did.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling very unprepared.

Geto continued, “I’m not even upset that you didn’t come with me, you just didn’t tell me.” you nodded, mind racing.

“I couldn’t.” you replied.

“And that’s the worst bit,” His lip twitched as he looked away, “I can’t even be mad at you for it. You were just protecting yourself-”

“And you.”

Geto blinked.

“I was being tracked.”

Geto’s lips parted slightly.

“Same reason Gojo and Shoko didn’t come to you,” you told him, “Gojo knows where you are, he has done since the day he found out you left.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Geto.”

“I mean,” Geto coughed, “It’s fine I guess, but-”

“Not for that,” you rushed, gaining an unimpressed look from the man opposite you, “I’m sorry that things happened this way. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you when you were spiralling. I’m sorry that there was nobody there for you when you left.” you took a deep breath, “I wasn’t the person you needed me to be, though I’d like to be. If you’ll let me.”

Geto studied you, pensively, “Does that mean you’re staying?”

You winced, “I’m not leaving you again.” you offered. You weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself that you were leaving home. Not yet, anyway. “I’m not doing any of the murdering though, you can do that.” you grimaced.

After a pause, Geto laughed.

“Ok.” His gaze was warmer than it had been, more open, “I’d love that.”

“Murder? Yeah I figured.” you muttered despite yourself.

Geto simply laughed harder. He really was a sight for sore eyes. The way he smiled, the way he looked away when he smiled, the way his hair fell over his face when he shook too much… God, you-

“I missed you too.”

Your mind went black.

Oh, you had told him, hadn’t you? And he felt the same way. Surely there was a logical conclusion to this.

You stood and moved to sit next to him. Then you leaned towards him, noticing the way he flushed at the proximity.

“Can I?” your hands hovered in front of you as you moved to touch him.

He nodded.

Your hands tentatively reached to cradle the sides of his face, thumbs gently rubbing circles into the curve of his jaw. Geto’s hands moved to cover yours as he watched you, wide eyed.

“Can we? I’ve wanted this for so long… Just- trust me, ok?” you whispered, stumbling over your words, your voice low. He nodded faintly before his eyes flashed with indescribable emotion.

“Ok.” Geto sighed, almost inaudibly to you.

You smiled, “Ok.”

As you withdrew your touch, your fingertips lingered on his skin, grazing the surface of his soft, olive cheeks. He tilted his head as you moved, chasing your warm palms.

“Can I kiss you… Suguru?”

You saw him stiffen as his name rolled off your tongue. Geto blinked at you before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a grin. In place of a verbal response, he mimicked your earlier actions, taking your head into his palms. His touch was gentle, yet firm as he guided your face towards his. The feeling of Geto’s warm breath on your smiling lips made you buzz with anticipation, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you itched towards the sweet nectar of his mouth. He met you in the middle, fingers threading through your hair as he ever-so gently scratched your scalp with his blunt nails. You sighed, content, eyelashes fluttered close against your hot cheeks. It was a nostalgic kiss, a loving one, not the same heated one you shared so long ago. As your lips moved against one another’s, you were fixated on the lingering heat of his body, craving it like an addict for the mere seconds the two of you parted for air.

As soon as Geto urged your lips open with the swipe of his tongue, you knew you weren’t going back.

The desperately intimate movements of your tongues became hypnotic: rubbing, prodding, tangling. Your hands had slipped round his neck, your chest pressed against his torso. When you parted, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, lips pressed against the flushed skin as you panted. Above you, Geto gently stroked your hair, playing with the soft strands as you both gave yourselves time. You weren’t teenagers anymore, you couldn’t jump into something so intense without the knowledge that there was definitely an unwavering mutual understanding between the two of you. Slowly, you pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes. The hand in your hair moved to brush the stray hairs away from your face, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

“Are you ok?” Geto murmured, leaning into you so that his lips hovered millimetres away from your cheek. The proximity, whilst lustful on the surface, carried more depth than you could comprehend. The weight of his hands, his lips, his voice, his words, were like bricks in your pockets, pulling you impossibly deeper into the encompassing aura of - just him. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was in particular that pulled you to him, realistically you knew it was a mixture of the history you shared and the absence you’d endured, but it was overwhelming and not enough all at once. Maybe it’d be a while until the trust you’d once shared would be recovered. Maybe it never would be. The consequences of your assumptions and his isolation could haunt you together. His radicalisation, your indecisiveness… maybe you were a lost cause, but the way hummed so soothingly as you nodded your affirmation doused your doubts immediately. He kissed you again, harsher this time, his grip on you tighter as he held you with desperation. You knew then, if you left now, you were never to be forgiven. But if you stayed... If you stayed, he’d never let you go.

Each touch rolled into another like the crashing of waves. Your shirt had been discarded by the fireplace a while ago, leaving Geto to revise the curves and contours of your torso with his left hand, fingers dipping into the hollows of your ribs and splaying over the small of your back. The whole time, he watched you, eyebrows pinched and mouth frowning in thought as he traced the tempestuous dark circles below your eyes with his right thumb. You were patient, meeting his distracted gaze as you idly played with his hair. This wasn’t the rushed goodbye you’d shared 6 years ago, this was a coronation of his love. Minutes passed and you were laid on the sofa, bare to his dark eyes. You had taken it upon yourself to step out of your underwear and to unclasp your bra. It was endearing, the way Geto obediently watched, eyes flicking between your breasts and cunt as you dropped the garments to the side. Amused, you cocked your head to the side, “Are you ok?”

Geto blinked at you, tugging at the hem of his shirt, “Yes,” he mumbled, looking to the side embarrassedly as he pulled his shirt over his head, “how did you want to do this?”

You hummed in thought. To be honest, you weren’t really that bothered, but it touched you that he asked. Though, you were aching and tired, so.. “As we are,” you replied, stifling a yawn, “please.”

He smiled at your apparent tiredness and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll go slow but tell me if it’s too much, ok?”

You nodded.

“Good girl.”

Good girl?

Good. Girl.

You were fucking reeling.

After Geto wrestled his trousers and boxers off, he slid his hand between your thighs and pushed them apart, carefully. He leaned over you, using his own thighs to keep yours open as he kissed you again, messily, lazily. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moved his knee forward until it grazed your most sensitive parts. As Geto slipped his tongue into your mouth, you gasped at the sudden plethora of sensations- all of them far too much, yet far too good. You took your time as you grinded against his knee, moaning and muttering curses against his swollen lips. A few years ago, maybe you would’ve been embarrassed by the amount of time it took for you to feel ready to take him, but you didn’t want to rush this. It was as precious as the climax itself, and the pleasure of basking in his warmth and affection made you giddy and hot. You cracked an eye open as you parted for air to check on Geto, your hips not stopping their lethargic, yet desperate rocking against his knee. What you found wasn’t boredom or impatience, rather intense affection and peace in the stare of your lover. It was oddly sweet compared to the obscene way his knee glistened with your slick. Content, you closed your eyes again, letting Geto’s gentle lips on your chest and neck lull you into an orgasm that had your toes curling and back arching. He coaxed you down with soft encouragement and kisses as he moved his knee from your core.

You grinned as you looked at his awed expression, “Come on.” you teased. Geto rolled his eyes before adjusting your positions.

After a moment he settled, lowering himself to be closer to you. “I love you,” he whispered, peppering kisses over your face, “so, so much.”

A smile spread across your face before you could stop it, “I bet you say that to all of your victims.” you teased.

Geto groaned, “God, shut up.”

You laughed to yourself, breath catching as you felt him press against your entrance. The way he looked at you felt like lying in sunlight, and you forgot how tired and irritable you had been. This was all you had ever needed. Him- that was all.

It had been a while since you last slept with anyone, so the intrusion initially stung. However, a few kisses and gentle whispers later, he had eased himself in completely, and you were burning with anticipation. Geto looked at you carefully, visibly holding himself back.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you adjusted yourself slightly, “m’fine.”

He grinned, kissing the column of your neck before he started moving, hands bracing you by your hips. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead and chest, causing his hair to stick to his face. You knew you were the same too, unable to ignore the way yours was sticking to your neck. Lazily, you pulled him further down onto you, wrapping your legs around his hips like a boa constrictor, causing him to penetrate you even deeper. The silence of the room was disrupted by the rhythmic groans and gasps the two of you released every time he rocked into you. You were so full, it felt like your nerves were on fire as he pushed against that spot inside of you that made you see heaven.

“Shit-” you whimpered as he sped up, biting into his shoulder as you gasped and moaned against the reddened skin.

Geto wasn’t faring much better as he uttered curses against your cheek, mixed within prayers and declarations of your beauty and significance.

“You’re so,” Thrust. “Fucking,” Thrust. “Pretty,” Thrust. “Like this-”

You could feel the hot puffs of air against your ear as he helplessly whined, his pace quickening despite himself.

“I’ve been,” Thrust. “Thinking about,” Thrust. “Doing this,” Thrust. “Since,” Thrust. “Last time-”

You couldn’t help it, the way his words drove you towards your peak like a wildfire.

“Please, Suguru,” you moaned, rocking against him as his cock hammered into you, “I’m so..”

“Close?” Geto grunted, “You’re close?”

“Fuck- yes!”

He swore under his breath.

Your back arched, chest pressing against his as his calloused fingers found your throbbing, ever-so sensitive clit.

You were so close, so, so, so close…

“Cum for me.”

With a scream, your orgasm washed over you, causing you to tremble with the intensity. Geto’s pace didn’t falter as you rode out the after effects. Well, not until he followed you closely after. Hips stuttering, you whined as you felt his cum drip fill you. He moaned loudly, eyebrows furrowed and abs flexed. You decided that it was one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

For a while, you panted against each other, Geto had collapsed on top of you and was now curled into you, head tucked beneath your chin. Absentmindedly, you stroked his air, sighing softly as he kissed your neck tenderly.

“Did I hurt you?” you felt his voice vibrate through where you were touching. Geto’s voice was low and rough- exhausted probably.

“Nah,” you replied easily, “tired though.”

He yawned, “Stay here then.” he muttered, sounding half asleep.

You laughed sardonically, “Is this part of your elite plan to stop me going back?”

Geto sat up, looking at you strangely, “You’re still thinking of going back?” He sounded more judgemental than hurt.

“Well,” you snorted, “probably not now.”

“Fucking hell,” Geto flopped down next to you, cuddling you again, “you scared me.”

You kissed the crown of his head apologetically, “Sorry, Suguru.”

The two of you laid on the sofa together in silence, communicating purely through loving touches and glances. Outside, you heard the rain become heavier on the windows, drowning out the buzz of the kitchen.

“I love you too,” you blurted, suddenly reminded of his abrupt confession, “by the way.”

Geto huffed, “I figured.”

“I’m staying here.” you added. A confirmation.

You felt him press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“I figured that one too.”

You sighed, “I’ll need to go home and grab my stuff… and quit my job…” Geto snickered on top of you, “what a bore…”

“How long will that take?” he asked, voice rough.

“Like,” you wrinkled your nose, “three days, maybe.”

Geto groaned, “‘S long time.”

“Yeah,” you agreed irritably, “what a drag.”

He snorted, “I miss you already.”

“Tease.”

#in an era of naming fics after beatles songs #and you are powerless to stop me #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #angst #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk shoko #jjk fluff #geto x reader #smut #jjk smut #jjk geto x reader

[bealtesharrisonmacca]

Saw this on Pinterest and now I’m literally crying

(User on Pinterest who posted the photo is luciamn17)

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #fluff #I wish Paul McCartney was real #bawling my eyes out

[drooperz]

Night out

I love this picture so much ><

Summary: After your friends abandon plans Ringo spots you and wants to spend the evening with you!

Ringo Starr x reader :P hurt/comfort but overall fluff

You often came down to the pub whenever your friends offered to meet up, it was a good place to chat and relax about things over a drink. Many memories of laughing and gossiping and getting a little too drunk some nights rushed to mind when you opened the front door. The place was a bit more busy than it usually was and you felt a little anxious when you didn't spot your friends on any table.

Hopefully they turn up soon.

You found an empty table and brushed the crumbs off the seat before settling.

The radio gently drifted over all the chatter of the room and the noise seemed to put you at ease, tender tunes soothing your worries.

As you sat waiting at a table you stared off into the distance, your mind went blank as you started to count the minutes...

5 minutes turned to 10 minutes and then 10 to 20...

As you waited, you noticed people coming and going out of the pub and the evening got darker.

You were sure your friends had forgotten about this meetup. No, surely not... Right?

You rested your head in your hands and sighed, thinking if you should just go home and wallow in the fact that you could have been forgotten or stay a little longer.

But, you decided to stay for a few more minutes, hoping they'll pop through the door and get to talking. Explaining how they'd been held back in traffic or some other explanation as to why they're so late.

Your mind went blank, again. A thick haze of thoughts and reasonings your friends could be late, retreating more and more inwards as you dwelled on them more.

"You alright luv?" A voice called.

You looked up at the figure in front of you, watching his slightly concerned face.

"Oh- uhh, yeah I'm fine." You gave a little smile to reasure the stranger. You rubbed your eye, feeling tired and let down.

"You sure? I've seen you waiting here for about a half hour..." he retorted, sounding sorry as his expression softened.

Your eyes felt heavy and sore, you sighed, "I uhh, I just thought I was gonna meet up with friends but..." you looked up at him and raised your hands up on either side before resting them on your lap, "I dont know where they are. Or I'm in the wrong pub!" I tried to chuckle, make light of it. I wasn't going to hold it against them but I still felt dejected.

He pulled out a hard wood chair next to me and sat down, "Could I spend the evening with you then luv? " I could see the features on his face better now, I didn't notice how blue his eyes were until he sat face to face with me, "A birdy like you should have a nice evening." He smiled and chucked slightly as he spoke, it made you feel warm.

Your face flushed, "You sure?" You asked, "I dont want to intrude on anything-"

"Believe me, it's fine." The stranger spoke gently, "I came looking for a good chat!" He was lively and his energy consoled you.

"Oh, I'm Richard by the way," he held out one of his hands and you noticed the rings on his last two fingers, "but all me mates call me Ringo." He chucked at himself again and you shook his hand, "y/n," you replied and smiled at him, "do you come to this pub often then?"

"Mostly on weekends but other than that every other day! When do you usually come here?" He leaned forward towards you and his wilting sky blue eyes waited for an answer. Before answering, you admired him, only for a split second; the curve of his lips, his long lashes and soft features made him look so charming.

In a flash you felt yourself get flustered at his handsome-ness. Dont be weird! You thought, you've got to think of an answer!

"Erm, well... I dont usually come on my own. But, I usually come down on weekends too, when me and my friends are off." You fiddled with your fingers, feeling your palms get sweaty. Be brave, be brave! "Even though my friends didn't show, I'm glad I'm talking with someone."

"Don't worry yourself doll," Richard stated, "I've had this happen and the best thing to do is not dwell on it!" He smiled again and it reassured you that what he said was true. This moment was surely just a blip in the grand scheme of many nights out you thought.

As the evening went on you both went back and fourth about questions and interests. You had learned that he plays the drums in a band that often played in another pub not far from this one.

You both shared a common interest in music and asked about if he had done any songs himself, to which he replied, 'I dont have anything solid, yet.' Sometimes he would ramble a little, then apologise but you didn't mind. You found him endearing and you liked hearing him talk and the more he talked the more you found yourself liking his company.

At one point he held your hand whilst he was talking about something and your mind completely zoned out, only focusing on his thumb gently running over the ridges of your fingers. He teased you when he saw how red your face was, according to him you were 'a kin to a tomato'. You felt so embarrassed that after Richard let go of your hand you rubbed and cupped your face hoping the blush would go away but he laughed again and called you cute, you hated how he already had this effect on you.

You cursed yourself for how easily he was swooning you with his sweet face and funny attitude and perfect eyes and cute nose and... and... ohhh no... you were in deep... he was already all you could think about this evening!

"Oh my goodness what is the time?" Richard exclaimed, snapping you out of your thoughts about him. He looked past you and presumably out of a window.

The evening turned to night and the outside world was dark, streetlamps illuminated the road with a warm hue. There were only a handful of people within the pub at that moment, it was very quiet. The radio being turned off didn't help with the stiffness of the atmosphere surrounding the pub but you two were happy with whatever you had going on.

"Can I walk you home?" He asked, already getting up out of his chair looking down at you for an answer.

"Would that be okay?" You answered, you couldn't really walk out in the pitch blackness on your own and at this point you just wanted to spend time with Richard.

"Of course love!" He extended a hand and you took it, happily going with a man you just met that night.

He opened the door for you and you thanked him as you both practically skipped out of the pub.

"My house isn't far from here, so I hopefully wont tire your legs." You giggled, smiling his way.

"Dont worry about me legs love," he huffed, "I wanna make sure I see you home safe."

"Thank you Richard." You really appreciated his kindness and couldn't be more thankful for meeting him.

The walk home was slightly misty and quiet, distant dog barks could be heard from time to time and the street laps hummed slightly as you both walked under them.

"I was just wondering," Richard stated, "I'm playing at a pub next week and would you like to see me and me mates play?" He asked before adding to the statement again, "Not in like, an egotistical way but like-" he cut himself off and laughed at his explanation.

"No I'd love to hear you play!" You exclaimed, you hoped he noticed how enthusiastic you were about wanting to hear him in his element.

"I'll save you front row seats!" He rubbed his hands together excitedly and you chuckled at him.

You recognised your neighbours houses, "Not far now," and soon enough, through the puddles and lamp light you were infront of your house. Tired but happy to be so near a bed as soon as I unlock the door...

You smiled again, "thank you again Richard."

"Its the least I coul do." He looked at you kindly and sweetly.

You looked down, a little nervous about how you should go about saying goodbye.

Caught up in the moment, you leaned in and cautiously you placed a delicate kiss on his cheeck.

Backing away, you already missed the feeling of Richard's warmth.

His hand gently moved to graze the area you kissed and after his shocked expression faded he smiled lightly to himself.

"Consider that a promise that I will, in fact, see you play next week!"

He looked at you, "you're a right charmer you know that?" You giggled at what he had to say.

It was late and even thought talking to Richard was the best thing to do, your bed was calling and you still wanted to make a good impression.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you play, I'll see you then-" you were about to unlock the door until he said something...

"Wait, theres something else I need to give you." He looked like he was thinking about something.

"Yeah, what is it. What's up?"

In a second he leaned forward and your mind raced, unsure of what he was doing, until one of his hands held your shoulder ever so tenderly and he kissed the corner of your lips.

The feeling was brief and chaste.

It still made you feel giddy with butterflies.

As Richard broke contact he placed both his of hands on either side of your cheecks, rubbing his thumbs on your reddening skin. You looked at him and he was beaming back at you.

"I, in fact, hope to see you there."

~

Author's note: this is my first ff on tumblr! I hope you liked it :^)

#the beatles #ringo starr #richard starkey #ringo starr x reader #this lad is too darn cute #fluff #hurt/comfort #pookie #the beatles x reader

[goldenwilliamson]

What about a Beatle!reader x Paul maybe or John where you guys are really good friends and flirt with each other all the time and then maybe one of you decides to act on it?

okay. so. i decided to make this request somewhat of a part 2 to this request that i wrote a little while ago. i just thought that writing about this already developed relationship with paul would be fun. hope its alright!

pairing: paul x reader

summary: after paul helps you out when you express your unrequited feelings towards george, you realise paul is the one you should be with. PART 1 HERE

warnings: PDA? lollll

George and Pattie's New Year's Eve party had well and truly kicked off. After your little deal with Paul you had floated around socialising with the people you knew. You were stood speaking with Eric Clapton when Paul sidled up to you.

"Oh, hello," you smiled as his arm moved around you and his hand found its resting place upon your hip.

“Hi,” Paul smiled at you with his eyelids slightly drooping. You can see he’s had a good amount to drink and smoke at this stage of the night. 

Something in the way Paul is looking at you makes you feel flustered, almost like butterflies. 

“Are you having a good night, love?” You ask.

“I’m having a wonderful time, how about you Eric, you alright?” Paul turns to Eric.

“Yes sir,” he smirks, looking between you both, “I’ll leave you to it then,” he sends a subtle wink toward Paul, which you don’t miss.

Paul spins you so that you are facing him completely and lets his hands rest around your waist, clasped at the small of your back. You shamelessly let your arms snake around his neck and look at him in a way you’ve never looked at him before. You were looking at Paul as if he was the most attractive man you’ve ever known.

“What are you trying to do?” You say, making Paul smirk.

He leans close enough to you that you think he’s about to kiss you on your neck, but instead he whispers, “Just trying to get him off your mind.”

There’s that feeling again. The butterflies, and the goosebumps all over your arms and legs.

You take in a sharp breath as he pulls away, “I think it’s working.”

Paul smiles proudly and laughs a little bit, "I never expected this would be happening."

"What's that?" You ask, your face lighting up at the sight of Paul's happiness.

"I never thought I'd be with you like this," he holds you a bit tighter and pulls you a bit closer to emphasise his point.

"Neither did I, but I'm liking it," you tell him honestly.

You feel so safe in his arms, and you honestly don't know how this had never happened before. Paul is constantly flirting with you, and you're always giving it straight back to him. You both have always played it off as jokey banter, but tonight it's clear that there was truth behind all that playfulness.

"I am too, love," Paul says.

You decide you don't want to wait around any longer, it just seems silly to deny yourself pleasure at this stage.

"Do I have to wait until midnight for you to kiss me?" You ask.

"I think we can work around that rule," Paul says as you both lean into each other smiling. You find each others lips with ease, fitting into each other like jigsaw pieces, and falling into a rhythm as you continue to kiss each other. Being with Paul was something you never knew would feel so good.

As you pull away, you can't help but smile, and you just about laugh at the situation.

"Why have we never done that before?" You say.

"Well until about an hour ago you were in love with my best mate," Paul explains.

He did his job well because right now George is the last thing on your mind, all you can manage to think about is how much you want to stay with Paul the rest of the night, and how you hope this isn't a one night thing.

"That was silly, I couldn't see that the person I should be with was right it front of me," you say.

"I couldn't see it either, but I can see it now."

"Kiss me again," you say, wanting to keep feeling that feeling over and over again.

"Happily."

#paul mccartney fic #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney imagine #paul mccartney fluff #beatlesimagines #beatles imagine #beatles fic #beatles x reader

[radiohead-spiderman]

Lily had to have shown James muggle music right, so, in 1980, they’re at the height of the war, John Lennon drops ‘Double Fantasy’, Lily’s always been a fan of the Beatles, so, James gets it.

One night after that the couple get awoken by Harry’s crying, James yawns, “I got him,” he had said. After a few too many long minutes, Lily got up and sluggishly made her way to the baby room.

James swayed as he rocked Harry back and forth, as Lily tiredly strained to hear, catching the end of James’ soft voice,

“—beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.”

#sorry for this lol #also Lily IS a Beatles fan #or was #was a Beatles fan #harry potter #marauders #screw jkr #marauders era #jily #james potter #lily evans #lily evans potter #harry james potter #I think this counts as a Drabble? #jily drabble #jily angst #jily fluff #flowerpott #sunflower #no because James would so sing that to Harry for the short time he had with his darling boy #marauders angst #lily evans x james potter #james potter x lily evans #james x lily #lily x james #baby harry potter #before his parents died #but like RIGHT before it #godrics hollow #might be cringe

[warnersister]

Gonna give you a baby (smut)

The Beatles x Reader, Paul McCartney x Wife! Reader

Summary: you and Paul have fertility issues, the three men with a thing for you see this as a great opportunity to lend a helping hand. -> hate this one didn’t write it well🤧

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy, filthy smut, five-some, degrading (slut, whore, etc), hand-jobs, oral (f+m receiving), just a lot.

Requested by: @jill-smith-123

You and Paul had met in the early 50’s. Your family had moved in just down the street from him and the 10 year old McCartney was awestruck from the moment he laid eyes on you. The next day, he’d showed up at your house, to which your less-than-pleased father had answered the door, with a bow-tie and bouquets of flowers he’d taken from your mother’s new garden, to ask you to accompany him to the local youth centre for disco night.

He’d bought you a sherbet straw while he puffed on candy cigarettes before pecking your lips with tight-shut eyes mid way through you dining along to The Andrews Sisters’ song your mother had on vinyl.

When you were each a bit older, you’d accompanied Paul to the cavern club sitting in the front row as you’d hummed along with him, his eyes never drawing away from your own. Then he’d take you for dinner, a real fancy restaurant that his uncle owned, and he said that he’d pay - but it was always on the house.

Eventually, another three boys had somehow weaselled their way into your life and the product was an up and coming band: The Beatles. John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete- (scratch that) Richard Starkey and your boy Paul McCartney. And it was no secret that the three also had a thing for you - between the constant bickering and playful flirtations, Paul brushed it off because he always knew in the end that you were always his, and he was always yours.

Especially when he proposed on your twentieth birthday in 1962. Beatlemania crazed the nation and it wasn’t long before scandalous magazines began to accuse the boys of unruly acts and Paul was no different. And realistically, Paul saw the only way fit to prove his innocence to you was to ask for your hand in marriage. With your father’s approval of course… (?)

The fame never concerned you, nor did it necessarily appeal to you either - so you’d had a small ceremony in the local church, doors locked for a healthy gathering of your closest family and friends and an after party conjoined with a reception in the Cavern Club into the early hours of the morning.

“Y’know love, I never read a rule that said your first night had to be with your actual husband.” George had whispered into your ear, smirking at you after seeing the look on your face. “Not her first night.” Paul responded, hints of jealously in his tone as he threw you over his shoulder and off to his car.

That was also the night you’d discovered Paul’s intense breeding kink. His hips pushing into you at a bruising rate, lips failing him as he stuttered out his desire to see you full with his children.

But that was the problem.

“Am I the problem?” You’d asked Paul as you buried your face in his neck, crying after umpteen times, you still weren’t pregnant. “No, no, not at all dove.” He caressed your back gently. “We’re just going to have to be moved patient and keep trying. You’re perfect.” He said softy, cupping your puffy face between his hands, looking you over with a concerned gaze.

“Hey, woah woah woah what’s up lovey?” John asked as the other band members entered the room. They all ran to your side, helplessly watching the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t get pregnant.” You sniffed, hiccuping as the tears continued to flow. Ringo’s hands cupped yours as his sad eyes looked into yours. “Maybe there’s just not enough.” He said and your brows creased.

“Y’know our offer is always on the table.” George’s continued. “What offer?” You asked, confused. “Y’ mean you never told her, paulie boy?” John cocked his head. “No, cause I know what you lot are like.” “What y’ on about?” You ask again. “All of us.” George said. “Y’ mean-” “all of us at once.” John took your chin between his fingers and squatted down to where you were sat. “Wrecking y’ can handle us, dovey?” Shocked, you look from John to Paul who had a knowing smirk frowning on his lips. Without thinking, you nod at them. Suddenly, you were swept off of your feet and into the arms of John. “Let’s make you a baby.”

A king size bed was certainly not big enough to support the five of you, but in the boys’ desperation, you certainly managed. You were placed down gently on the bed, soft covers enveloping you as the four starved men looked down at you with lustful eyes. Your clothes were practically torn from your body, apparently them being to impatient to allow you to get undressed properly.

Paul caressed your hair gently before leaning into kiss you, as you begin to feel light kisses and licks on your breasts. You look down to see John staring back at you, a cheeky grin on his lips. He bit your nipple harshly and you hissed, screwing your eyes tight and throwing your head back. “Better get used to that if y’ want a baby.” George said, tracing his hand up and down the sensitive skin on your inner thigh.

Then all the delicious contact went again and you groaned, searching for the friction they were giving you. “Y’ want a baby? Y’ gonna have to let us get undressed first.” George chuckled. When they were undressed, John situated himself between your legs. “Oi, shift she’s my missus I’m having the first go.” Paul grumbled. “And the reason she can’t get pregnant.” John replied smugly, but was shoved out of the way by your husband. “Y’ gonna show em what a good slut y’ are for me, hmm?” He asked, fingers wandering down your thigh and towards your heat, beginning to pump them at an agonisingly slow pace.

George yanked your hair back and forced you to look at him, your mouth falling agape in the process. “Y’ gonna be good for us? Gonna give old Paulie a baby?” He taunted, rubbing himself a few times before forcing his length into your mouth. Gagging slightly, you tried your best to open your throat in the position you were in.

A heat built up inside of you, warmth rushing as you chased your high but it was soon stripped from you. Unable to complain, the disheartenment was soon replaced by something much larger - you and Paul groaned simultaneously, George doing the same as you sent vibrations flying through his cock.

After a while of Paul’s bruising pace, you rest his unwavering hips stutter as he released into you, you doing the same and realising all over him. George pulled out of your mouth and thrust himself into his hand a few times before also cumming. “Such a filthy whore.” Paul taunted, enamoured by the drool leaking from your lips.

“My turn now, birdie?” Ringo asked and you hummed, still dazed and coming off of your high. “He asked you a question. You being a disobedient slut for him?” John asked and you shook your head no. “Y-yes, your turn Richie.” You managed to stutter out.

His dick hardened at his routine nickname, needing no time to prepare you so without warning, sliding himself straight in. He let out a big breath of air at the feeling of your soft wall enveloping him. He began thrusting at an agonisingly slow pace, you in turn, crying out in desperation. “Patience now, doll.” Ringo told you. “Good things come to those who wait.” He took his time with you, not knowing when an opportunity like this one would come again.

Your head fell to the side and your eyes connected with John’s, who looked down at you with a small shit-eating grin. He leant down and licked your ear love, whispering gently “gonna give me a hand job while you let your husband’s friend take you?” You moaned at his question but nodded at him, raising your hand to rub up and down his hardening cock, swiping the tip a few times to use his pre-cum as some sort of lubricant. You pulled away and spat saliva into your palm, beginning to jerk him off at a faster rare. “Isn’t your first rodeo, is it dove?” John asked with a chuckle. “Got you well trained, haven’t I chick?” Paul said, leaning down to latch his lips onto yours.

Your high came excruciatingly slow, Richard building up the pace to the point he could no longer take it and took you animalistically, only stopping to release his seed deep into your womb and felt you cum over him. Waiting long enough for some of it to sink in, he slowly pulled out and kissed at the cold air attaching his sensitive member.

John released into your hand and felt his cock re-stiffen at the sight of you licking your hand clean. “Fuck. Me next.” He said, walking around the bed to your feet and positioning himself between your legs, feeling yourself being manoeuvred like some inhuman marionette. He moved you until your face was in the sheets and back arched for him, arse and sweet warmth on display for him. “Can’t let any of their cum get out, can we love?” He’d asked tauntingly, nails digging painfully rough into your hips.

He slipped in quickly, cock twitching at the sound you made, sensitive from the numerous rounds you had been put through. “Can’t believe Paul gets to keep you all to himself. A little slut all for him.” He said, staring to pepper kissed down your back while his hands found your breasts. Your arse was unquestionably bruised, as was your neck from the way Ringo and George were sucking at either side of it. John let out his load deep inside of you, full ovaries feeling themself being stuffed by the liquid trickling down into them.

George had waited so patiently for his turn, so patient with a so painful hard-on that he was going to make you regret giving him. Seeing himself torture you would be enough of a reason to make himself wait a few more moments. He spun you around and returned you into your back, kneeling down to kiss and worship the skin of your inner thighs, yet never close enough to provide the friction you so-desperately needed.

He kissed and sucked at your clit, thumb coming up to rub it as his tongue delved deep into your walls, making you cry out at the sight of their cum on his tongue. He thrust it into you a half a dozen more times before standing up and forcing his elongated cock into you. You hissed, pained by the repetitive beatings your intestines were receiving.

“Such a good little brat for us aren’t you?’ Paul asked, staring down at you as if a predator staring at its helpless pray. “Yes, ‘m good.” You repeated, doing as you were told as he tapped your chin to tell you to open it. You parted your lips and allowed your husband to force his dick into your already sore and throbbing throat.

George’s hips snapped at a consistent and quick pace, eyes not deferring from yours as he watched you take his bandmate’s cock so well. “Take him so well, don’t you dove?” He asked, praising you as you hummed and Macca moaned. George put his thumb onto your overstimulated clit and pressed down harshly. You cried out but tried your best to keep your throat open. “That’s if, keep it open.” Your husband taunted. And with a few more final thrusts, George cummed inside of you as you did the same, Paul releasing deep down your throat and you refrained from coughing - instead harshly swallowing and wiping the remaining resales from your mouth with your tongue and the back of your head.

“You were such a good girl.” John said, petting your hair gently and pecking your forehead. “Y’ alright, princess?” Ringo asked and you looked up at him and smiled with a nod. “Definitely gonna give Paulie boy a baby for being so good.” George added as he strolled your leg comfortingly. You enjoyed the praise you were receiving, letting the men manoeuvre you so you were in Paul’s lap. With your eyes shut, you felt yourself being lowered onto his cock and you hissed in both oversensitivity and surprise. You looked at your husband with tired eyes. “Don’t want any of it to go to waste.” He said with a wink and cheeky little smile. “Thank you.” You mumbled, drifting to sleep on his chest their quiet conversation turning into distant white noise.

A week or two later, your head was in the toilet bowl as Paul pulled your hair back into a make-shift pony tail and caressed your back at seven in the morning to let you be sick. “It’s alright love, think you’re coming down with something.” He said, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead to check for a fever. It was winter after all and your unreliable immune system was no match for England winters. “I’ll take you to the pharmacy, yeah?” And you’d nodded, wiping your mouth and letting him lead you out to the car.

You weren’t sick, unless your count baby fever. You were pregnant. Pregnant with a child. Pregnant with Paul’s(?) baby. The two of you were overjoyed and as were the rest of the boys when they found out, although offering if you wanted to have two in there just to ask, not minding the sight of you naked and belly swelling with a child.

And eight and a half months later, two weeks premature, your water broke at midnight. Paul sped to the hospital, mentally timing the distance between your contractions to tell the midwife when you got there. After a while of pushing, swearing, breaking Paul’s fingers, and him nearly dainton at the sight of the head coming out of such a small area, at seven minutes past 8, your son was born.

The boys all crowed around, in awe at the new baby in your arms. “He has his mother’s chin.” Paul notes, grinning from ear to ear. “And his fathers face.” The lads then piped up. “And Ringo’s droopy eyes-” George stated but was Vito off by the man himself “oi, oh yeah actually he does. And John’s nose.” John hummed. “And George’s eye colour and ears.” You all began laughing.

Whoever’s paternal child this may be, he was certainly a gift you yourself, your husband, and the three men who tagged along with you.

[paulmcf4rtney]

teddy boy george x reader please!! fem reader, maybe paul or john’s sister? lots of fluffy cavern goodness would be much appreciated!! 💗

anon asked for Teddy boy!George x fem reader!!!! THANK U SM FOR THE RQ! <33

definitely gonna go with paul hehe

———

-You being the sister of the prettiest boy in school gave you lots of attention, girls asking you for favors, giving you notes to pass n share to your brother, the list goes on.

-Paul always flirted back with the women he talked to, but he had competition with George either way when it came to girls.

-You were so in love with him the more you noticed his presence, which of course made it worse, you couldn’t help it. His smile, his wink.. The way he talked to you like you were the only girl in the world.

-Paul found out about this and gave you a stern talking to, about not to “date boys” and especially NOT GEORGE. It was hypocritical, he could flirt but you couldn’t date a single boy?

-Did you care though? No, no you didn’t. You felt seen for once, and not like a shadow behind your brother. You knew it wasn’t his fault and he was only trying to protect you.

-Either way you were on George’s radar, you both started to get closer (emotionally and physically) to the point you were having dreams about him.

-You talked to him almost every day at this point, before, during and after school. Your brother caught on but you told him nothing would happen.

“Aye, you wanna come by my place? My parents aren’t gonna be home, we can watch a movie.” George whispered to you in class with that thick Liverpool accent that made your body melt.

You nodded, trying not to alert the teacher and get you or him in trouble.

And after-school outside like always you meet up with him, this time you told your brother you had somewhere to be and not to wait up for you, that had raised a little suspicion from Paul but he didn’t want to give you a hard time anymore than he already has.

You were nervous? Sort of? This was the first boy that paid this much attention to you in what felt like forever. You held George’s hand by instinct, you were gonna pull away out of embarrassment but he locked his fingers with yours.

If your face wasn’t red before it was definitely red now. George spoke up again, “My house ain’t too far but I still gotta drive..”

“You have a car???” Surprised, I mean, why wouldn’t you be surprised!? When he walked you out to his vehicle you realized partially why girls liked him so much.. A hot ride and a guitarist at the same time was all he needed to score.

“Yep, a real beauty ain’t she?”

You hummed in response

You got in as he did, strapping in. He started the engine and drove off. You didn’t dare to touch anything or even look at him, you were bad with eye contact when it came to your crushes. (Sucks that Paul decided to always scare them away) But you knew George was different.

He didn’t take shit from anyone, not even your brother. In fact i’m sure he likes the idea that he’s going against Paul. George didn’t say much the whole ride, he put on music though.

You didn’t mind how quiet it was, but you were too deep into your thoughts to realize he had parked the car already, snapping you out by the sound of his voice. “Cmon, i’ll show you inside n’ let you pick out the movie if ye want.” And there was that fucking smile again.

He let you step out of the car, holding your hand again. His hands were very soft just like his voice, he didn’t rush you or try to make a move.. It was nice.

You entered, and his house was actually really pleasing in decorum. His parents definitely raised him well, it showed.

There was blankets folded next to the couch in a basket, pillows perfectly placed on each side.

George kicked his shoes off, so you did the same, he was asking you what you wanted to watch since his parents owned a collection of tapes/movies you looked through them, picking one that happened to be horror.

You both were *almost* cuddled up on the couch under the blankets, until a scary scene came on you jumped and grabbed onto George’s shirt, hiding your face in his chest. You liked scary movies but the scenes still make you jump.

He held you tight and petted your hair, whispering to you that there was nothing to be scared about. “Ya don’t need to be so frightened i’m here, it’s okay.”

You sniffled at his response, opening ur eyes to look at him and that’s when he kisses you. Softly, yet holding back in case you weren’t ready.. But you were ready and knew it.

It felt like a thousand butterflies were in your stomach and chest by how close your faces were.

George didn’t let you go or stopped kissing your head until the movie was over, anytime the movie had a jumpscare he’d hold you tighter. You really have never experienced something like this, it was so comforting.

This was the first step to dating and having George as your own, all to yourself.

“I can drive you home, pretty girl.” He said with that gentle tone again, kissing your lips longer this time, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh shoot yeah, you definitely should.. So, does this mean we’re like.. Dating?” You sprouted the question to him, averting your eyes.

“Guess it does, why else would I be kissing ye?”

You knew you would have to explain to Paul and your parents why you were gone so long, but it would be worth it. So so worth it when you get home. <3

#the beatles #teddy boy george #george harrison x reader #the beatles x reader #fluff #paul mccartney

[econhomework]

One Day at a Time

Paul's struggling to come to terms with everything life has suddenly dealt him, and just when he thinks he's getting the hang of it, John gets thrown into the mix. John's not exactly slap happy about the situation either.

(The lovely drawing of George and Paul taking a selfie in the bottom right is not mine or @stupidbloodytuesday 's art. It was found on Pinterest and we were unable to determine the original artist. If anyone knows who it is, please let me know so I can tag and credit appropriately!) Chapter 1: Doctor My Back

Chapter 2: Bad News on the Doorstep

Chapter 3: So This is How it Is

Chapter 4: Doctor My Eyes

Chapter 5: Odd New World

Chapter 6: Winston

Chapter 7: Everything But the Bus

Chapter 8: Life's a Piece of Shit, When You Look at It

Chapter 9: Memory Lane

Chapter 10: Back Again

#beatles #beatles fanfiction #mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney #modern au #teenage angst and fluff and humor all mixed in #cancer and disability play a key role #hope you enjoy! #moodboard and post style inspired the ever wonderful @javelinbk who is a blessing to this fandom

[givemequeen]

I want everyone to know that you’re mine: George Harrison x reader

request(s): - can you write a smut about George being like possessive and wanting the reader to be loud during sex bc “I want everyone to know that you’re mine” and if possible have it happen bc maybe the reader was getting hit on by the others and George wanted to reiterate who she was with? Thanks so much! - Can you write something smutty for George? - pls i need more george smut 🥺🥺🥺 im in love w him 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (aren’t well all) a/n: do any other authors get horny when writing smut or... pairing: George Harrison x reader summary: teasing George (just realised i put in the wrong summary! it is correct now tho, whoops!) warnings: sexy time! dirty sexy time! orgasm denial (female) oral (male receiving). unprotected sex (remember to wrap it before you tap it, lads). ass smacking. kinda harsh sex but not too harsh. jealous!george word count: 3651

George always got off the stage horny. He said it was a combination of a lot things but you knew the roar of the crowd and the fact you were there watching and waiting for him was what really got him going. He wanted you to see his success, just like you wanted to show how proud you were of him. He had, after all, worked so hard to get where he was. So, you never missed a show. 

Tonight was no different, George, despite being engrossed by his performance, couldn’t stop looking backstage to look at you. You had worn a short dress today and no underwear. You had whispered this delicate information to him just as he was getting on stage and when it was too late for him to do anything about it. But the look on his face was priceless, pure shock and desire. 

As soon as the last song was over, he bolted off stage, not even waiting for their final bow, and rushed towards you, nearly toppling you over. He picked you up, hands flying to your ass, and spun you around. 

“Fuck, I’m so hard, I’ve been waiting all night for this.” He growled in your ear, pushing his boner against you. “Let’s go baby, please.” You laughed and placed your hand on his chest, pushing him back. 

“We can’t leave, there’s the after party.” You winked before walking away to congratulate the other boys with a polite kiss on their cheeks. 

Once their instruments were safely set to the side the five of you headed outside to your cars. George followed close behind you, his hand low on the small of your back, finger feeling the fabric to remind himself you weren’t wearing any underwear. You got into two cars, You, George, and Paul on one and Ringo and John on the other. 

The cars sped away from the crowds of fans and headed to the hotel you were all staying at. The hotel had organised a party for the band in their presidential suite. It was going to be filled with roadies, journalists, music producers, and models, and you couldn’t wait to use this opportunity to tease George. 

You were sat between the two boys with one of your hands on George’s thigh, your slim fingers drawing circles in his inner thighs. 

“That’s driving me wild, I’m going to fuck you when we get to the room.” George muttered as he pressed his lips to your ear.

“So, did you like the show?” Paul asked, oblivious to what was going on. He had light a cigarette and was offering some to you and George. George accepted, placing it between his lips and lighting it. Something about him lighting a fag drove you wild and you couldn’t wait to fuck him once you go to the hotel but the game you were playing wasn’t going to end soon.

“Of course, you were amazing tonight.” you said, momentarily placing a hand on his knee and removing the one you had on George’s thigh.

George sat up and you smiled, knowing he had taken the bait. Paul smiled happily and thanked you.

“You look great tonight, love.” Paul smirked. “That dress... is it new?” You could hear George practically growl next to you.

“Yes!” 

“Looks stunning on you, love.” he met your eyes and smiled that charming smile of his. “You look stunning tonight.”

“Back off McCartney.” George said, placing a protective arm around you.

“C’mon Georgie, don’t be ridiculous.” you said, pushing off of him.

“Yeah, Georgie.” Paul teased as the car came to a stop, having finally reached the hotel.

George reached over to him but Paul jumped out of the car. Cameras immediately starting flashing, fans were yelling the boy’s names all around you. You kissed George’s cheek before getting out, pressing your ass into him as you moved over him. George grabbed your waist and pulled you to him, pressing his boner against you.

“Behave, I see what you are doing.” he said before letting you go.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” you smiled, grabbing his hand and walking into the hotel through the screaming crowds. 

Once in the suite you headed off to find your group of friends. They were an assortment of journalists and roadies who followed the band around. Naturally, you spent a lot of time with them which caused a friendship to flourish. In this group of friends was a specific roadie who George hated as George claimed he had flirted with you. Your boyfriend wouldn’t listen to reason since you repeatedly told him he was gay and was more interested in him than in you.

“Thats just an excuse to touch your boobs.” George had said, pouting.

“No because he surprisingly does not touch my boobs.” you had rolled your eyes and left it at that. 

But you could now feel George’s eyes on you across the room as you sipped on a drink, lounging on one of the velvet sofas, and talked to said roadie. George had been starting at you the entire time you were there but he had been caught in a conversation with some music producer.

John came over to join you, sitting by your side and placing his arm on the sofa behind you. He started mumbling about the concert and the party but he was so drunk you couldn’t understand him so you simply patted his shoulder and nodded. You could feel George watching you and suddenly an idea came onto mind.

You stood up and sat back down across John’s lap. He smiled up at you and hugged you, clearly ready to sleep. You ran your fingers through his hair and glanced up at where George had last been but he was gone. You glanced around, suddenly worried that you couldn’t find him.

“Love.” George said from behind you. You jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. You looked back and smiled, George was upside down!

“Georgie, you’re upside down!” you laughed.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, cocking his head sideways. His face was tense, clearly unhappy at the situation but you couldn’t care less, he had to live a little. “Get off his lap.”

“No, I’m just happy.” you threw your arms around his hips, dragging him towards you, and ignoring his second question. “And you?”

“Lets get out of here.” he whispered, leaning over and starting to pull you away from John, who just flopped backwards and promptly fell asleep.

“What? No! The night is young.” you whined before standing up and dragging George over to the dance floor. 

Dozens of people had congregated in the centre of the room and were dancing widely. Arms were thrown up and hips were swung to the rhythm of the music. You pulled George to the centre and placed your arms on his shoulders. His hand went to your hips, pulling you close.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” George said, his lips chasing yours. “What were you doing on John?”

But you ignored him and allowed yourself to feel the music, the thumping of the bass resonated deep within you. You threw your head back and immediately George’s mouth went to your neck. He kissed and sucked on the skin there, surely leaving marks.

“Georgie, careful.” you frowned, chastising him.

“Lets go, my love, I want you.” he pressed himself against you. “I need you.”

“I can feel that.” you giggled.

“Do you want me to fuck you right here? Huh? In the middle of the room and let everyone see how well you take my cock?” his voice was low, its vibrations travelled all the way down between your legs.

“Fuck, Georgie.” you palmed him through the jeans, looking around to make sure no one could see but everyone was too high or drunk to notice.

“Lets go.” he wrapped his longer slender fingers around your wrist and pulled you towards the exit. A couple people tried to stop him to talk to him but he was a man on a mission and practically shoved them aside. Once outside the suite, George picked you up and pressed you against the wall.

He began kissing you like a starving man, hands slipping under your dress to grab your ass. You moaned as he pressed himself against you and you rocked your hips against him, desperate for some friction. George pressed himself further against you, preventing you from moving.

“No, you don’t get to do that after how you have behaved all night.” he sunk his teeth onto your flesh and you yelped, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“I’ve been good, Geo, what do you mean?” you lied, kissing his face.

“You and I both know thats a lie.” he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him. “You’re gonna do as I say and if you’re good maybe I’ll cum in you.” George set you down and grabbed you, pulling you towards your room.

Once inside, he picked you back up and took you over to the bed, dropping you on it. You watched in anticipation as he slowly took his shirt off. You rubbed your thighs together, desperate for some friction.

“Stop that.” George snapped. “You don’t get to do that.” he shook his head and you.

Finally, his shirt came off. He threw it on the ground and unbuckled his belt. He dropped his trousers and took himself out of his pants. While staring right at you, George stroked himself. You bit your lower lip, eager to have him in you.

“Stand up.” he ordered, you did as he requested, your eyes sliding down to his erection. “Kneel.” you dropped to your knees and looked up at him.

“Now what?” you asked sweetly, trying your best not to look at it.

George stayed silent, he trailed his fingers through your hair and tugged it back so your mouth fell open. He grabbed himself and guided your mouth towards him. You stuck your tongue out, allowing his cock to rest on it, and closed your lips around him.

“Good girl.” he said, his other hand went to your chin, pushing it up so he could see better.

You closed your eyes and moved your head forward until his cock hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly but remained there until tears formed in your eyes. You pulled back, gasped your air, and did it again. Slowly, you let your tongue explore him. It went over the ridges and veins of his cock, mapping out every inch of it.

One of your hands went to his hips for stability, the other going between your legs. You slipped two fingers inside of you and rocked your hips the same way you bobbed your head backwards and forwards. You moaned, the vibrations of your moan made him buck his hips forward.

He groaned and collected your hair into one hand. He pulled you back so only the tip of his cock was inside your mouth, and slowly pulled himself out. A single line of spit and pre-cum connected you and his dick. He grabbed his cock and placed it back into your mouth.

“Mouth open.” he slowly pushed his hips forward. You held your breath, fingers stopping inside of you, and felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as he made his way down your throat.

Then, at the same excruciatingly slow pace, slid himself back out. George did this a couple times before slamming into you with no warning. You choked on his cock but that didn’t stop him. He grabbed your jaw, hand so big his fingers nearly reaches your ears, and fucked your mouth. 

“Fuck...” he groaned. “This is what you get for being a slut.” his eyes were trained on yours. “Stop fucking touching yourself, you think I don’t notice?” reluctantly you removed your fingers from yourself. “Now take my cum.” he pushed his hips into your mouth one last time before finishing inside of you. As his cum shot out, he rolled his hips, and you licked his cock, making sure every last drop came out.

Then, he slid himself out. You stuck your tongue out and blinked up at him. “Good girl.” he slid his finger down your cheek and shoved them into your mouth, reaching the very back and making you gag. “Swallow.” you did as you were told. “Now get up.”

“Yes, daddy.” you stood up and George’s mouth was immediately on yours. He reached behind you and pulled down the zipper to your dress. The short sleeves of the dress fell from your shoulders. George pulled it over your head, leaving you completely bare. He pushed you onto the bed, grabbed your ankles, pushing your legs apart, and dragged you to him.

His fingers slid up your thighs at an excruciatingly slow pace, getting closer and closer to where you needed him the most. He looked up at you through his lashes, there was pure hunger in his eyes.

“Please Geo.” you whined.

“What do you want, my love?” he asked getting closer to you. You bit your lower lip and nodded. His fingers slid into you and you moaned. “Louder.” his fingers curled inside you and you moaned louder. He began working his magic inside of you, moving his fingers with such precision and rhythm that made you thank your lucky stars that he was a musician.

Your mouth hung open as you let moan after moan spill out of you. His thumb went to your clit, gently massaging it. Your thigh were threatening to close but George had placed his hands over them, pressing them down. You moaned his name and told him you were close.

“Good girl.” he said as he pulled his fingers away from you.

“What the fuck?” You groaned, dizzy from the pleasure and alcohol. You watched as he sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

“Sit here.” You did as you were told and straddled his thigh.

“What now?” 

“Get yourself off.” he shrugged.

Heat rose up to your cheeks. Get yourself off? On his thigh? You swallowed and nodded. You rocked your hips, a small whine escaping your lips at the sensation. His thigh was hard, the muscle under rubbing against you in the best way possible.

“You don’t think I want to fuck you?” he growled, his hands went to your hips gripping you tightly and urging to move faster. “You don’t think I want to shove my cock in you and make you come?”

“I know you do.” you moaned. “Oh, George...”

“Then why do you behave so naughtily? Flirting with Paul and John right in front of me? It’s like you’re begging to be punished.” he tutted, shaking his head.

One hand went to your breast, squeezing it harshly. You moaned his name as he licked your nipple. You rocked your hips against him faster, determined to orgasm. 

“I wasn’t flirting.” you lied as you quickened your pace.

“Don’t fucking lie, slut.” George said grabbing your jaw. You looked at him and reached for his cock.

You jerked him off at the same pace you rocked against him. Each time you moaned his name his hips jerked. You moaned it louder and he kissed you, you moaned it even louder and he played with your breasts.

But George’s patience was wearing thin. He flipped you around, laying you on the bed and crawled over you. His mouth was on you, his kisses sloppy, and with no warning, he slammed into you. You gasped his name, unable to do much else, and squeezed your thighs around him and he relentlessly pounded into you.

“Louder, love. I want everyone to know that you’re mine. I want everyone to hear how well I fuck you.” he grabbed your hands and pinned them above you, exposing your neck.

His mouth attached itself to the soft skin there and began sucking. You went to complain but a sharp slam of his hips shut you up. Instead, you moaned and moaned. Each slam of his hips making you go louder. You yelled his name and his rhythm got sloppy.

George pulled out of you and turned you around with ease. He pulled your hips up, exposing your ass to him, and aligned himself, his dick pressed against you. He rubbed his tip against you slowly, almost as though taunting you. You pushed your hips back and he pulled away.

“Oh George, fuck me please, please.” you moaned. 

He smacked your ass and slowly slid in to you. He quickly returned to the ruthless pace he had set before. His hand slapping your ass as you gripped the sheets. His fingers went around your hips, meeting your clit, and began drawing circles. 

You were coming undone, the brutal slamming of his hips against yours filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with the effortlessly skilled movement of his fingers against you was pleasantly overwhelming. He leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back and pulled your hair back. 

“Are you going to come?” he groaned. “Come for daddy, you’ve been good. I want to hear you.” 

You nodded and let yourself loose. The explosion of pleasure took over you, making your body go limp. George held you up as he continued fucking and fingering you. You unapologetically moaned his name over and over until your throat felt raw.

Just as you were coming down from your high George slammed his hips into you one last time and came inside you. His cum shooting into you felt delightfully familiar. You clenched around him and gripped the sheets so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if they ripped.

George collapsed on top of you, cock still inside you and weight crushing you. He gently kissed your shoulder, hand going around your body to squeeze your breast. His cock was still hard when he slipped it out. You rolled over and smiled at him but he was staring between your legs.

He licked his fingers and pushed his cum that had began leaking out of you and down your thighs back in. You winced at the wave of pleasure that crashed against you like aftershock. 

“This pussy is mine.” he said, reaching down to kiss it. 

Bonus:

George had returned from the bathroom and scooped your limp body in his arms. He had taken you into the bath and sat behind you, your back against his chest, wet bodies pressed together, as he gently cleaned you up. Then, he had tenderly dried you, taking extra care around your thighs, and taken you back into bed were you were now spooning.

“Was that good?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Very.” you mumbled.

“It wasn’t... too much?” 

You turned your head to look at him and smiled, placing a hand over his cheek.

“I liked it. I love it when you’re possessive. It was very hot.” you gently kissed his cheek. “I love you.” you murmured and spun your whole body around to face his.

“I love you too.” he said, pressing his head into your hair.

You reached your hand down his pants and hesitated. George nodded and reached to pull your own underwear down. You wrapped your hands around him and felt as he got hard. 

George laid back, his hands on your hips guiding you over him. He comfortably slid into you, like a key into a lock, and you both happily sighed. You fell against him, bare chest against bare chest, and slowly rocked your hips. George wrapped his arms around you and met your movements half way.

“I’m sorry love, I can’t last any longer.” he groaned.

“Cum in me, Geo. Fill me up.” you whispered, your words driving him wild. 

It was the most comfortable filling, his hips crashing against yours - once, twice, three times - as he came undone. Then, you remained like that, his cock buried deep in you and his mouth kissing your skin, until he softened. You pulled yourself away from him and he tucked himself back in.

He pulled you against him, his whole body wrapping around yours, and fell into a deep slumber.

BONUS BONUS:

The next morning you stumbled over to the wardrobe, George watching your naked behind body from the bed, and pulled on plaid trousers and a pink cardigan to match. He helped you as you got ready, kissing your cheek and neck or wherever he could reach.

You walked hand in hand towards the elevator and made your way down to the private room the hotel had given the band for their meals. Inside was John, Ringo, and Paul, all sat around a round table filled with food.

They all looked up as you entered and started laughing. Unsure, you cocked your head to the side and asked them what was so funny.

“Did you have a good night?” John said, wiggling his eyebrows, between fits of laughter.

Realisation dawned on you, they probably heard everything. You shut your eyes in embarrassment but George was having none of it. He pulled you to his side, arm going around your shoulders and led you to the table where breakfast was set.

“Piss off, you lot are just jealous.” he said, rolling his eyes and ignoring their howls of laughter.

#george harrison #george harrison smut #george harrison fluff #george harrison x reader #george harrison x reader smut #george harrison x reader fluff #the beatles #the beatles story #the beatles fanfic #the beatles smut #the beatles fluff #the beatles x reader #the beatles x reader smut #the beatles x reader fluff #george harrison story #george harrison x reader story #the beatles x reader story #george harrison fanfic #george harrison x reader fanfic #smut #fanfic smut #fanfic #givemequeen101

[guitars-and-kaleidoscope-eyes]

Anonymous:

hi! i love love love your content and i want to know if you write reader inserts? if you do could you please write a Ler!Paul Lee!reader?

Lee: X Reader

Ler: Paul McCartney

Ticklish, Darling?

1965

You had just returned home to the London flat you and your boyfriend, Paul, shared. You hung up your damp rain coat and slipped your shoes off. It had been a long week and you thanked any higher power that today was Friday. You sat down at the kitchen table and put your head in your hands. Your boss had yelled at you over something that wasn't even your fault, you slipped in a puddle of water in the hallway of your office and fell on your butt, and the height of Beatlemania was really getting to you.

Oh sure, you knew that by dating a Beatle (especially the cute one) you would draw a bit of attention to yourself, but you never imagined that you would receive death threats from some angry fans! You were always careful when leaving and coming home.

You thought you heard a noise from outside and you jumped out of your chair and ran to the sitting room and looked out the window, but all you saw was the darkness of the London streets as rain hit the sidewalks.

You breathed a sigh of relief, but your mind couldn't stop racing. You kept thinking someone was outside of the window watching you, but nothing was there.

Tears filled your eyes and your lip quivered. You flooped down on the sofa and you curled on your side as you let a small sob escape you. You hugged a pillow against your chest and buried your face into the soft cushion.

"(Y/n)! I'm home!" You heard Paul's voice enter from the foyer.

"(Y/n)?" Paul's voice became more concerned. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you could maybe just make the world go away.

"Oh (Y/n)..." Paul's smooth voice trickled through your ears.

The only response he received was a shaky breath coming from his girlfriend, who was laying on the sofa crying.

"P-Paul." You whispered, opening your teary eyes to see your concerned boyfriend kneeling next to you.

"What's the matter love?" Paul asked tenderly, stroking some hair from your face. You tried to give him a response, but all that came out was a shaky. breath.

"Alright love. Alright." Paul soothed. He sat down next to you on the sofa and scooped your shaking body into his lap. You raped your arms around his neck and buried your face into his chest. He rocked you back and forth, stroking your hair and rubbing your back.

"Shhhh, it's alright love. I'm here." He cooed into your ear.

After a few minutes, you had your breathing under control. You sniffled and pulled your face away from Paul's warmth. Your eyes met with his doe eyes.

"Do you think you can tell me what's wrong now?" Paul asked, wiping away a few tears from your cheek.

"I'm sorry Paul. God, this is so stupid." You said.

"Hey, hey. It's not stupid." He said in a soft, but serious tone. "Nothing that upsets you this much is stupid. Now what happened?"

"It's just too much." You said, finally letting the wall come down. "It's been awful at work all week. There's been fans swarming outside the office. My boss yelled at me today for that. A-and I've been getting threats from a few of them, saying they were going to break in and try t-to..."

"Shhhh, it's alright." Paul whispered as you started to cry again.

"N-no, it's not!" You sobbed, "I can't go anywhere without worrying that they'll get to me! I can't even sleep without having nightmares of-"

Paul cut you off by hugging you close to him, holding you against his chest, as if he were trying to block out everything that hurt you. He rested his head on top of yours. You curled up against him, as if he was a cave you could hide in.

"What I was saying is that nothing like that will ever happen to you. Brian is already trying to find a way to keep fans away and get better security. I promise, by next Monday, things won't be nearly as bad. It's been hard on all of us. But trust me, I will NEVER let anything ever happen to you, my dear" Paul whispered into your ear.

"I love you so much Paul." You whispered.

"I love you too (Y/n)." Paul said, kissing your forehead. You smiled and wiped your eyes.

"I'm glad you're feeling better love. You gave me quite a scare when I walked in." Paul said.

"I'm sorry Paul. I didn't mean to." You said.

"I know." He returned, "But I think a little punishment is in order."

"What?" You asked, cocking your head to the side.

He grinned with mischief and wiggled his fingers infront of your face. Your eyes grew wide as it hit you by what he meant by "punishment".

You leaped off the couch to get away, but he ponced on you and the two of you fell onto the carpet. He straddled your hips and rested his hands on your ribs, poking them just enough to tease you. You began giggling

"What is it doll?" He asked, with a mischievous look. "What's got you all giddy today?"

"Pahahahaul!" You giggled, "Stohohop!"

"Sorry deary. No can do. Not until you apologize." He said.

You kept laughing as the tickling increased. Paul's hands moved towards your stomach.

"What have we here?" Paul teased, lifting up your shirt to reveal your belly. "Aww! A cute little tummy! And all for me!"

"Gohahahahd Pahahahaul!" You laughed, trying to get his hands away from you as you blushed. "Stohohop ihihit!"

"What, you mean I can't have this little tummy?" He pouted, kneading the flesh. "But it's so cute and ticklish!"

"Nohohoho!" You laughed even harder.

"How about this little bellybutton then, hmm?" Paul asked, scratching inside your bellybutton. "Just let me play with your bellybutton for a little bit. Then I'll leave you alone."

You couldn't muster to say anything because you were laughing too hard, so you shook your head, trying to hide your grin with your hands.

"Aww! Why not?" Paul pouted, teasing you again. "It's so round and ticklish and cute. I just wanna play with all day."

"Plehehehease!" You laughed trying to escape.

"Please what?" Paul asked, now tickling your belly again. "I think you're laughing too hard. I can't understand you."

"STAHOHOP!" You laughed.

"Ohhhhh." Paul said, still teasing you, "I don't know. Maybe I will. Or maybe I'll just keep this sensitive little tum tum and bellybutton all for myself.

"NOHOHOHO!" You laughed.

"What do you say then?" Paul asked.

"I'M SHOHOHORY PAHAHAHAUL!" You yelled through your laughter. Paul's tickling stopped.

"There. Was that so hard?" Paul asked, rubbing your belly to get any lingering tickly feelings out.

All he got in response was a giggling (Y/n) laying on the floor. Paul smirked at his beautiful girlfriend.

"Thanks for cheering me up Paul." You said, once you stopped giggling.

"Anytime love. Never be afraid to ask if you need help. Or if you ever need a good tickling." Paul winked cheekily. You chuckled and hugged your wonderful boyfriend.

#rock music #the beatles #fanfiction #john paul george and ringo #paul mccartney #fanfic #tickle content #x reader #request #tickle scenarios #tickle fluff #tickle fic #tickle #comforting #comfort #cuteness

[harrisongslimited]

George Chapter of the Day

I Saw Her Standing There, Chapter 11

Trigger Warnings: adult situations, swearing, smoking, fluff, drinking, slow-burn romance, angst, confrontation, homosexuality, sexual tension.

**18+ only!!**

Chapter 11

Joie sat there a long time. She didn't know what to think. She didn't know what to feel. She was tired and ached all over. But he kissed her; the scent of his aftershave still lingering in her senses, the feeling of his lips still present on her skin. What was that for? Gratitude? Something more?

What did she think about her relationship with George? He was definitely the "quiet one" unless he had something to say, and he frequently had something to say. He did just protect her from Ringo's rant in his quiet, authoritative way. And come to think of it, what was that all about? Ritchey never seemed to her to have a confrontational bone in his body. After all, wasn't she hired to help them when they needed her? Well, fuck that...this was her last tour. If it would be a matter of going back home to the states or keeping this shit up, well, she'd pack her bags and gladly go home.

Of that, she was steadfast and certain.

She got up from the sofa and went to her bed. Closing her eyes, only one thing was on her mind. The kiss from George.

..........

After closing Joie's hotel room door, George leaned against the wall and shut his eyes.

"Fucking unbelievable," he shook his head. "A bloody kiss on the forehead...what the bloody hell... She's going to think of me as her brother, not the impression I was going for."

His chin fell to his chest as he shook his head again. Should he knock on her door again and kiss her until her toes curl? He knew what moves pleased a woman. There were plenty of teachers in Hamburg, happy to show an enthusiastic 17 year old what goes where, when and he was an avid learner. The groupies and other entertainers knew the score. Fast, easy, usually no strings.

He took a long, deep breath.

That wasn't his lovely Joie. It was getting to be the time he needed to lay his cards on the table and while he was usually a confident lover, he worried about how to approach Joie. He would prefer if she would take the reins and give him a bit more encouragement...generally not a problem with other ladies.

He was going to approach her when the time was right. No need to rush. By his estimate, Joie had 3 months left on her visa. Visions of her lovely body, still tanned a light bronze, freely given by her would be a dream come true. Her breasts crushed against his chest as they kissed deeply and passionately, invaded his thoughts more than he liked to admit. Removing her clothes and touching her all over kept him up at night.

It was time to tell her before he needed to jack off in the shower to ease the pressure. There were always the ever available girls who just wanted to shag, but he was beginning to find the anonymity bothered him. He really wanted to belong to someone, to be loved by that one special girl and he was sure he could make that a reality.

..........

Desperate times call for desperate measures and he was ready to lay it on the line...but not today, as he headed down the hall to the suite.

Joie awoke to the sounds of birds chirping outside her window. She jumped out of bed, feeling that she was late. She usually brought tea and toast into the boys, although Mal usually woke them up with a shake of their beds. Brian was known to call them, ringing the phone over and over until someone answered. She threw a skirt and top on, and flew out of her door. Down at the end of the hall was the suite where the boys were, Brian's room, and Mal's room in between.

Joie tentatively knocked at the door, not sure what she would be greeted with, but Paul answered the door and let her in.

"Mornin' love," he greeted, bright and chipper. He was dressed and presentable. They all were. John looked a little worse for wear but was still dressed and ready.

"Am I late?" she croaked out.

"We decided you needed a Beatle-break," George told her gently as he handed her a cup of coffee.

They all surprised her, John handing her a blueberry muffin and Ritchey pulling out her chair from the table.

"A Beatle-break, huh?" she smiled at them, settling down at the breakfast table.

"And I'm sorry for being rude to you last night," Ringo offered, giving her a warm squeeze of her shoulders. "I was way out of line."

She looked at him as she took a sip of her coffee. "I love all of you, you know."

"We know," Paul offered. "That's why we give you such a hard time all the time."

..........

She was glad when they finally landed at Heathrow in the middle of the night. It was necessary to do things out in the real world when most people were asleep in their beds. There was less chance of running into thousands of fans and being mauled to death. Joie slept on the plane most of the ride and couldn't wait to close her eyes in her own bed at Freda's. She felt like sleeping for a week and eating everything in the fridge.

As Joie took a taxi to Freda's, she contemplated two choices...either getting her own place and staying in England for 3 more months or going back home. She missed her family but had talked to her father about letting her sister Jordan come out for a visit. That would mean she would need her own place. She shouldn't continue to be in Freda's way, although Freda never said a word.

Joie insisted on paying her own way and chipped in for rent, groceries and utilities. But she longed to get her own place. She just didn't know where. She also thought about dating. It had been a long dry spell since Charlie.

..........

Brian was in a sour mood the next day as he walked into the office. Joie was already there, as bright as she could be, considering she'd probably managed only 8 hours of sleep over the last 10 days. But she also had gotten to see Paris and Munich and Dublin. At least a little of it.

By noon, Brian had left the office for a "meeting" and both Freda and Joie took a deep breath of relief.

"Tell me about the tour..." Freda asked, excitedly. "It sounded wild."

"It was. It was just cars and hotel rooms and more cars and receptions and all the while, the girls screamed," Joie answered, shaking her head. "It's unbelievable."

The phone rang, interrupting her, but Joie answered it. It was George.

"Hi, love. Are you ok? Did you manage to get some well deserved sleep?"

"I'm fine. How about you?"

"The usual. Hey, could you come out to the house tomorrow? That decorator is coming out and I need your help."

"Sure" Joie answered, her heart beating faster. "Should I just come out in the morning?"

"That would be great. Thanks," George told her. "I'll see you in a couple hours. We have a meeting with Brian."

"What time?" Joie asked. "He left about 15 minutes ago."

"Oh, that's ok," George answered. "We don't have to meet him for a couple of hours. I'm heading for the studio now and then we'll be there later."

"Ok," Joie said. She was looking forward to seeing George. The feelings surprised her. "See you later. And be careful driving in."

"I will, thanks," he said.

Joie turned to Freda with a happy smile on her face.

Joie told Freda she was going out to George's the next day.

"Has it been fun decorating his house?"

"Yes, but I didn't do it alone. Cyn really helped, so did Maureen. I think Cyn has some interior decorator in her!"

"Well, she was an art student in the old days," Freda offered. "Very artistic."

The phone rang again and Joie answered it again. It was Brian. His speech was slurred.

"Come and get me," he mumbled. "You have a car courtesy of the Beatles. Come 'n get me, Miss Armagh."

Joie strained to understand him. "Where are you?"

"And don't tell anyone. Anyone. Got it?"

"I got it. But where are you?"

Brian gave her an address, told her to figure it out and hung up. Joie turned to look at Freda. "It was Brian. He asked me to go and pick him up. Maybe his car broke down? He hung up too fast for me to ask."

"He wants you to come and get him?" Freda asked. "Where is he?"

"I have no idea. He gave me an address and told me to figure it out. And he told me not to tell anyone."

"Why so secretive?"

Joie shrugged. She grabbed her purse and left the office with a wave to Freda. "I'll be back. And then we are gonna talk about my finding my own place. I really need to give you and Will some privacy."

"I like having a roommate...." Freda told her sincerely.

"Maybe Will can be your roommate!"

Freda laughed. "My parents would never go for that!"

..........

Joie checked the map in the car and realized she was going into some shady neighborhood. She got there relatively quickly, thanks mainly to George, who showed her how to drive in London. She inched the car along, looking for the address. It was a bar.

Leaning against a phone booth was Brian Epstein, raincoat pulled up close to his face. He spotted her and jumped into the car. He smelled like alcohol and cigarette smoke, and his lip and nose were bleeding.

"Brian...." Joie began, concerned. "What happened? Should we call the police? You look like you are hurt. Do you need a doctor?"

"Drive," he barked "and hurry up about it."

His head bobbed up and down with every bump. He was very drunk. She thought she would take him to the office and try to call Mal or George or someone. Maybe George would be there and he could help her.

"You are so naïve," he blurted. "you don't understand anything."

"What is it you want me to understand?" Joie asked him, realizing it was probably fruitless to have any kind of discussion with a drunk person.

He was silent. "You really are imperspectively stupid."

Joie wanted to laugh. He sounded ridiculous. "Right," she answered.

He seemed to sober up slightly, at least enough to keep his head up. He wiped the blood off his lip and tried to appear a gentleman by running his hand over his raincoat and smoothing his hair down.

"I don't like you," he said suddenly.

"Well," Joie answered calmly, "I don't particularly like you either. But that really isn't necessary. We just work together. That's all."

He turned his face towards her. "No, missy, you work for me. We don't work together....you work for me."

"I work for the Beatles," Joie responded. She was driving faster to get somewhere so she could get away from him. The smell of the alcohol and the smoke was overpowering in the little car. And Joie had the window open.

"And they work for me...." He said flatly. "If I tell them to get rid of you, they will."

"I don't care," Joie responded as coolly as she could. But she was getting nervous. She didn't like being with him in the car.

"For fuck's sake, open your window," she exclaimed, more to herself than anything. She had seen enough drunk men to last her a lifetime.

He seemed to slip back into sleep, but woke up with Joie parked at the office. He got out and slammed the door shut.

Joie sat in the car and burst into tears. She cried so hard that she thought she'd break. Her heart was racing and the car smelled terrible and she wanted to go home. Although she loved England, she felt like she hated everyone who lived there...except Freda.

She was done. Joie Armagh was throwing in the towel. She was beaten by 4 Liverpool boys and their posh manager. She was going to march up into the NEMS office and quit. She would book the next plane out. Joie had met her match and she was quitting. That was it. California, here I come.

When Joie entered the office, the boys were all present and Brian had washed his face, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and was presentable. The boys were in the middle of questioning Brian as to where Joie was. She heard him say he "bloody well didn't care."

"Come on Eppy," John cajoled. "Where is she? You took her for a ride didn't you?"

"I want her gone," he burst out. "She's a bloody American and we can get a fine English gentleman to help you on the road if we need to. Or you can hire one of your friends. I don't care. I want her gone."

Joie stood there. Paul noticed her first, her face red and puffy from crying. But she was standing straight and spoke clearly. "Thank you all very much for the opportunity you gave me. But I'm leaving. If you need 2 weeks, I'll do that. But I'm turning in notice."

"Thank bloody hell..."Brian said.

No one said a word for a moment. Joie stood there vulnerable, trying to stand her ground. Trying to maintain some dignity.

Paul was silent. John was silent. Ringo was silent. Uncharacteristically, it was George who put an arm around her and led her out of the office.

"You need to stay for a meeting," Brian called after him.

"Sod off," George responded. "Go clean yourself up. And then we'll talk."

George put Joie, who had started sobbing again, into his car. She was blubbering about her car and Brian and the smell in the car and going back to the States. He calmly picked up the phone in his glove box and called Mal.

"Mal, I need some help. Joie's blue mini is at NEMS. We need someone to take it over to get cleaned out. Brian had too much to drink and the smoky/alcohol smell is all over her car," he said. "Whatever it costs to clean up, charge it to Brian."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Just relax now, Joie. We're going home."

"Freda's?"

"No" George said gently. "My home."

Joie didn't argue. She put her head back against the head rest and took a deep breath. It was warm and relaxing in the car and soon she was asleep. When she woke, they were in Esher, at George's house.

They walked into the house in silence. Joie noticed that George had added his own personality to the house. It was warm and open. Joie felt very comfortable.

"I imagine you want to get this day behind you," he said. "Just go into my room, grab a shirt, take a shower and lay down if you want. There's a robe in the closet too. I'll sleep in another room. Or maybe you are hungry? How about some tea and sandwiches?"

"That would be nice," Joie said, smiling happy to be free from the office. "I'll go clean up and be right out."

Joie went into George's master bedroom that she knew so well from arranging the furniture. It was exactly as she had arranged it, only with more of his personal belongings. She grabbed a t-shirt and the robe and took a shower. She stayed in the shower a long time, letting the water run over her.

Her plan was to head back to California. To Santa Monica Pier. To shopping. To seeing her family and friends. To the Pacific Ocean. To even worse traffic and the lovely San Bernardino Mountains. To peace and quiet.

Toweling off, she put the t shirt on and wrapped the robe around her. She felt human again. And when she went into the kitchen, George was sitting at the table waiting for her with a cup of tea and cheese and tomato sandwiches.

"Hi," she said simply.

He had changed into jeans and an open white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was barefoot and his hair was disheveled. Hot tea was steaming in front of his face. He looked wonderful. He smelled wonderful. Joie watched him and sat comfortably in his t-shirt and robe, her face scrubbed clean.

"Hi," he answered. "do you feel better?"

"Much," she told him. "Thank you for what you did."

He stood and passed the cup of tea to her. "You're welcome."

Joie sat at the table and cupped the tea in her hands, enjoying the warmth.

And the silence.

"What he did was wrong," George said barely over a whisper. "He never should have treated you that way or have done what he did."

"George, he never liked me so it really isn't all that surprising. He just never did. Not from day one," Joie told him. "I don't know what I did. We were just like oil and water."

"I wish you would've told me it was that bad. I would have done something...."

"Oh, there was nothing you could have done. It just needed to play itself out. It's ok. It just made me realize that I need to go back home."

George choked for a moment and seemed to be taken back. '"Don't give up on us so quick."

Joie's eyes opened wide. 'It's been 3 months, George..."

"Don't let what Brian did send you back home. Besides, I need your help with the house," he smiled. "Otherwise, my mother is going to handle it."

Joie smiled back and took a bite of her sandwich. "Would that be so bad?"

"You don't know my mother...." George responded lightly, sipping his tea. "besides, we'd all miss you."

Joie was silent for a moment. Truth be told, she'd miss them too.

"You know," he continued, "Brian is a mixed bag. He polished us up, got us noticed, but he's a troubled guy. He has......trouble with women. Especially strong women."

"His he married?" Joie asked.

George looked at her. "No," he answered. "Never will be either."

Joie turned her head slightly. "Why?"

"Joie...." George started. "Brian is....Brian...well, he's gay."

"Gay?" Joie asked and after a moment, the lightbulb went off in her head. "Oh."

"Yeah....'oh'," he answered. "He's very closeted about it, but he's a good guy. He's just...he's very protective of us."

"So I'm a threat?"

"In a way. He's very motherly...you know? And you've taken over that role in a way he never could."

Joie ran a hand through her hair. "So I should be more understanding?"

'I think you've been understanding enough when it comes to Brian. Especially after today."

"So what should I do?" Joie asked him.

"Let me handle that," George said to her. "Just let me handle it."

"George, you don't have to fight my battles," Joie told him, watching him carefully. She wanted him to kiss her...really kiss her madly. He was so adorable.

"I know that," he answered with a nod. "But just let me handle things for now. I promise you it will be ok. Just trust me."

Joie sipped her tea and looked into his deep brown eyes. "I trust you, George...."

George looked at her in silence for a long time, reaching across the table to take her hand gently in his. Joie blinked slowly and enjoyed the moment between them. It was the longest conversation she'd ever had with him.

"George..." Joie began. She wanted to ask him why he didn't run around with other women when they were out on tour, but stopped herself. Maybe he had and she just didn't know it. He seemed more private than the other 3, and Joie thought she would leave it alone and changed the subject. "I know we are supposed to go out on tour again in a couple days. What should I do? I don't want to go."

"We've got a couple of days," he answered. "Why don't you stay here and we'll figure it out."

Joie looked at him. "I can't stay here George. I couldn't impose on you like that."

"You can stay in the coach house. I'll be in the main house. Let's just do that for a couple of days..until I leave."

"It....I....are you sure?" Joie stammered a bit.

George brightened. "I'm sure Joie. And leave things to me...just for now. I don't want to run your life, but I want to take care of a couple of things. Don't want you buying your airplane ticket back to the states just yet."

#the beatles #beatles #george harrison #george picture of the day #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #beatlemania #i saw her standing there 11 #beatle fanfic #fanfic #writer #writer on tumblr #Slow-burn romance #fluff #george harrison love story

[bealtesharrisonmacca]

Ok so what do we think about the fact that in John’s song "(just like) starting over" he might be referencing to Paul three times just in one verse

“it’s time to spread our WINGS and fly, don’t let ANOTHER DAY go by, MY LOVE, it will be just like starting over"

Is he hinting at something?

#paul mccartney #john lennon #the beatles #mclennon #Beatles #fluff #just like starting over #macca #george harrison #ringo starr #paul mcbeardy #is this poetry?

[drooperz]

A snowy morning

He looks so darn cute in this picture

Summary: you're neighbors with John and you ask to join him on little outing with his friends when it snows! Just having a jolly ol' time!

John Lennon x reader :) fluff and all that

As the warm sun peaked through the curtains, you roused from your comfy sleep. Tussling a little bit in your sheets, you remembered what you hoped for last night.

You were practically itching to see if there was a layer of cold white laying upon the street. But getting out of bed was difficult due to how cold your room felt compared to how cozy the duvet felt wrapped around you. Every time you moved outside the designated warmth that enveloped you, your body practically shivered from head to toe.

It was torture.

But, you had the brilliant idea of bundling yourself up in the covers and getting up to look out the window.

Even when you cringed as your feet touched the chilly ground you crept towards the window excitedly and peaked through the crack of morning light in between the curtains.

You looked outside, the street was covered in white. Every front garden you could see was covered in a thick layer of pure white snow.

You thought about how cold it would be compared to your chilly room now, already mentally preparing an outfit for making snow angels without freezing or able to withstand a snowball fight (if one were to break out).

You were so ecstatic, practically jumping up and down on the spot, barely able to contain yourself! You needed to go outside instead of being indoors. Reluctantly, you shrugged off the warm duvet and felt the heat radiating slightly from it when it circled around you...

You'll pick it up later! Right now you need to get warm!

You tried getting some thick clothes to go outside but they were all cold, ironically.

You cringed as your shirt wrapped around you, like a chilly hug, sucking all the warmth from your torso and arms. Eventually, the material soon warmed up and you felt snug again.

Barely wasting any time, you had a quick glass of water and put your winter gear on.

Hat, check! Gloves, check! Boots, check! Big coat to keep me extra warm, heck yes!

You fumbled getting your keys in the front door with your gloved hands but did it anyways.

The freezing air kissed your warm face and your breath turned to steam against the sun's rays.

You barely took a step outside until you heard, "Hello, y/n!" A distinctive voice shouted.

You scanned the street to see where the voice called you, "Hello John! Good morning!" You exclaimed.

John lived just opposite your house, you'd see him around sometimes and often greet each other fondly. He would often talk to you when he got the chance, he was extremely charismatic and had a particular knack at keeping a conversation interesting.

"You're up early!" He beamed, making his way over to your side of the road, you watched his long coat sway and scarf bounce with every careful step. You smiled.

"Is the road slippery?" You asked, suddenly concerned he might slip.

"Nah, it's not too bad." He leaned over your garden wall as you stepped over the snow, enjoying the sound of the strange squeaks and frozen grass peaking out under your footprints.

"What are you up to then?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

"Hah, I was so excited about the snow last night I could barely sleep!" You laughed and he smiled at you, "I just wanna enjoy it before it melts." You smiled back at him and he lifted his eyebrows up.

"Well, me friends rung me up this morning and asked if I wanted to go to a field before anyone else gets to all the fresh snow." He said calmly, you opened the front wooden gate and stepped through onto the pavement.

You thought for a second, surely just walking around in the cold alone would be pretty boring... Right? You wondered if John would let you tag along.

"Do you mind if I come with you?" You asked cautiously, a bit of socializing and having fun in snow sounds like a good day.

"By all means," he skipped forward with a prep in his step, "the more the merrier, I'm sure the lads wont mind me bringing a plus one." He grinned again and you felt relieved.

"Thanks John." A smile spread across your face again.

The street was so so quiet. The bitter cold made it seem so still and empty, it was almost like it was only you and John in the whole neighborhood...

It was strange...

But also nice.

He lead you along the snowy pavement, both of you plowing a trail through the snow.

"It almost looks like a sandy desert." John stated into the stillness and you observed the road having been entranced by the snow rolling around your boots as you walked through it.

"It really does, doesn't it?" Snow peaked and fell on the road, in gardens, on cars and rooftops almost like little dunes, "Very, very cold desert." You laughed.

"Too right, I feel like I should have worn ten other scarfs." He joked, trying to pull the fabric over his nose.

You laughed, "if I had another one I'd give it to you."

"You'd give me one of ya scarfs?" He stood in front of me, leaning down a little, "Praise be ya y/n! Ye have the generosity of a saint!" He clasped his gloved hands together and shook them violently.

You laughed at him loudly and the sound reverberated around the, otherwise silent, neighborhood, "oh god, didn't mean to be that loud." You giggled at him, holding his shoulder.

"You're having fun, don't fret." He said kindly, "Oh, we gotta go though here," there was a small path that led behind some houses to an open field that most people would frequent, "not far now." He rubbed his gloved hands together and grinned.

The suns rays were warm both in feeling and colour, elongating the trees bare silhouette upon the pale snow. The path was wide enough for the two of you to walk together but you preferred to stay behind John for the meantime.

"you alright?" You asked, just checking on him.

"All good lovey." He looked back and grinned, "get over 'ere next to me." He ushered you with his hand and you caught up with him quickly. Trailing behind him didn't last long...

You smiled up at him and continued walking together.

As you trodded through the cold, you started to hear the sounds of other people at the end of the small trail. You suddenly felt a little nervous meeting John's friends. You didn't want to intrude on their dynamic and be awkward, not knowing what to say or do.

But as you walked closer, you could see the three silhouettes jumping and playing about. You smiled slightly, feeling relief that the people you're meeting are just as childish excited about the snow as you are.

"AYE PAUL!" John hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth for maximum attention.

One of them stood straight up and waved, Lennon chuckled, "I'll introduce you to the lads, c'mon." He looked down at you and took your hand, smiling widely.

As he lead you towards the approaching group you scanned the wide field covered entirely with white, smooth snow. Unlike the streets, there were hardly any ebbs or dips, it looked soft. Almost like a blanket. The sun was so golden here that you could see all of John's friends breath swirl and disappear with every step closer. John was the same, each breath out caught the sun and dissipated before lingering in the still air.

"John! You alright?" You assume Paul stepped forward in a big padded fur coat, he had a stiff posture and kept his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, you?" He replied plainly.

"I'm bloody freezing!" He tried to hide as much as his face underneath his jacket and laughed, only his pretty eyes and tussled black hair were visible.

"Who's that with ya John?" The one with blue eyes asked.

"Well, you see, this here is y/n!" He said calmly, swinging our joined hands and a dumb grin stretched across your face.

"That's y/n?" The one with the skinny face and dark hair said.

"I'm sure it is y/n, are you y/n?" John looked down at you jokingly.

"I hope I am." You all laughed briefly.

"You're a laugh, no wonder John goes on about you." He moved closer to you, "I'm George, and that's Ringo." He pointed towards the blue eyed man and he waved. They were all so smiley.

"Who wouldn't go on about you!" John practically spun to face you and picked you up with a bone crushing hug. In a second, just before he put you back down, you could feel his warmth radiating from inside his jacket and his breath on your face as he smothered you.

"There'd be nothing to go on about if you hug 'em like that again." Ringo laughed, you heard the other two laugh with him.

"You're so cute," he continued, still very close to you, you don't think the others heard what he was saying, "you're gonna stick with me, aren't 'cha?" He looked down at you, his face rather close to yours. You noticed how long John's lashes were with the proximity, he often teased you like this to get a reaction out of you.

"Yeah," you managed to breathe out, "I- I'll stick."

He grinned that sly, cheeky grin he always did.

The other lads were already chattering amongst themselves about something and you were just watching as they did so, John had put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you next to him.

~

Author's note: Late, late, late Christmas gift also its not snowing where I live right now but I'd love it if it did 😭😭😭

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #the beatles x reader #love this dude #fluff #snow day #cute

[thegoblinboy]

All you need is love 💕 18+

Slight smut but it’s fluffy as hell. Its literally just grinding on each other. This is all on Valentine’s Day- there is a gif at the end and I’m not sure who to credit so if you know please let me know! But here’s Steddie first Valentine’s Day!

Steve is shyly looking around the others room. As much as he hung out with the other neither of them spent much time in the bedroom. Between Eddies energy and Steves continuous search for adventure the two were for the most part connected to the hip. Steve smiles brightly when he sees a photo of Eddie and Wayne when he was younger. Moving and picking up the frame as Eddies quickly picking up dirty clothes off the floor with a soft blush to his face. Though he pauses as he sees the facial expression on the others faces as he beams happily. Deciding fuck it, Steve obviously loved his chaos. The other had barely even glanced at the floor. Eddie had this night planned for a while and now that it was here he feels giddy.

Moving over as silently as he can he pulls out a cheesy record he made sure to buy knowing his Stevie loved cheesy. That and Eddie knew that listening to the album when he was stoned would be worth it. He moves placing “the yellow submarine” record on his player. He moves the needle carefully to the spot that he wanted it and he smiles as he hears the beginning brass play the notes to All you need is love.

“Love love love, there’s nothing you can do that can’t be done.”

And just as Eddie had predicted Steve is turning around like he hung the moon. “You hate the Beatles!” Steve says knowing his boyfriend well. Then he’s blushing as he watches Eddie pull the crushed up dandelions that he picked from outside from his back pocket with a soft blush. He had spent his money on the record so he couldn’t afford much. He was sure if they searched they could find a half eaten snickers bar somewhere. “And you hate Valentine’s Day?” Steve blushes becoming flustered as Eddie grins cheekily. Moving forward as he dances a little.

“Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to play the game, it’s easy. All you need is love.” He moves his arms awkwardly as he sings along his voice rougher and slightly deeper compared to the voice on the record. Steve moves forward as he laughs joining in. Moving his hand to take the other and spinning them around. Steve laughs as he tilts his head back as Eddie purposely drops the flowers. The petals slowly being crushed under both of their feet. “All you need is love-” Eddie says a bit dumbly as he looks at the other. Steve smiles brightly and Eddie never thought he would be hear, doing three things he hated most. Celebrating Valentine’s Day, singing the Beatles and helplessly falling in love with a jock.

They both stop singing as they fall into each others embrace. Steve melts under the others hands feeling seen for the first time in the relationship. Properly for his goofy romantic side. Eddie moves closer and Steve is the one to press their lips together. Slowly kissing as they hold on to each other. Sighing they both leave their foreheads pressed up against each other as they sway back and forth just exsisting together. Until the record cuts and the last song plays.

Eddie pulls back holding the others hands still as he takes the needle off shutting the player off before he’s carefully leading him to the bed. Moving falling on his ass on the mattress without a care in the world. Smiling brightly up at the other Steve hesitates before he’s sitting in the others lap carefully. Eddie hums gently as he traces the others face. Not needing to say anything. Steve moves forward kissing the other with everything he was feeling the winds knocked out of the both of them. And heat is slowly taking over the calm and sweet night.

Straddling the other properly Steve looks down at the other as he moves carefully pulling his polo off his chest. Eddies hands go to the others hips as he smiles softly seeing the how’s freckled body. Eddie hums gently as he moves a hand up to the others neck as he carefully traces the others throat. His rings sending a shiver down the others spine. Though one of them has to break the silence.

“I know you aren’t ready to go further, and I’m not comfortable bottoming with you yet but can we um?” Eddie stutters as Steve reads his mind and starts to grind down on the other carefully. Eddies eyes close a little before Steve smiles.

“We can do this, I’m happy doing this.” Steve says with a soft blush as he watches Eddie slowly tilt his head back a little more. Though when Eddie rememers what they are doing he carefully moves the others arms behind his back. Crossing the others arms and links their fingers together as he starts to gently pull the other up and down against himself. Panting softly he shifts a his leg a little so that the other grinds down on his thigh. It was difficult doing it with both of them being in jeans but neither of them cared.

Panting Eddie watches as Steve’s face slowly starts to flush pink and his chest and neck go a little darker red. “Hmm-” he whimpers and Steve’s eyes are closed. Eddie pulls the other a little bit more aggressively wanting his attention as he moves forward and kisses the other biting his lip carefully. Before he’s moving and biting carefully down on the others shoulder leaving his mark on the other. Wanting the other to remember just how much he loved him, even though they weren’t saying it aloud they both knew there was something amazing happening.

Eddie groans as they keep the pace slow and Steve just looks at him, and oh god was Eddie wrong. Steve Harrington can shock him even more as the boy looks him straight in the eyes and his eyes are glossy as his voice cracks a little.

“I love you, Eddie.”

#I was absolutely going feral #kicking my feet and giggiling #love this for them #Eddie loves steve #Steve is a simp #Steddie #Eddie hates the Beatles but that’s ok #literally oh my god #fluffy smut #fluff #I don’t write smut often #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie smut #stranger things #how many tags can I do #who knows #bxb #steve x eddie #valentines day #Steddie Valentine’s Day