mithranqueersmusings

[mithranqueersmusings]

Desire I

Chapter: 1/?

Rating: T

Summary:  Tav, Karlach, and Gale are enjoying another night drinking by the fire when the roguish vampire emerges from the woods after a late-night feed.

Pairings: Astarion/Tav

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

It's a breezy summer's night and everyone has started to settle down for sleep. Shadowheart lies on a thin bedroll looking up at the clear sky, seemingly transfixed by whatever she sees up there. Lae'zel is in a far corner battering the wooden training dummy she has pieced together to resemble a mind flayer. Wyll has dozed off in his tent, tossing and turning as a result of the newfound discomfort his horns have bestowed. That leaves you sitting in front of the campfire, enjoying a fairly stale bread roll and a flask of ale that is bordering on too warm, with Karlach and Gale. Karlach has expressed time and time again that the heat is surprisingly making her feel better, as though being warmed from the outside offsets how overwhelming her infernal engine can be, which explains why she is so keen to move as close to the flames as possible. Gale, on the other hand, explains that he enjoys sitting by the campfire because it allows him to read his tomes more clearly, not realising that everyone is fully aware of his capacity to conjure up light withminimal effort. Considering how little he actually appears to be reading, you suppose that he is merely enjoying the company. You and Karlach have gotten into quite the habit of drinking with one another after a long day of arduous travelling. Tonight is no different, with Karlach rooting around the camp to find forgotten bottles of this and that, eager to pose yet another drinking game. Ever since you met, there was no doubt that you would get along, and as the days passed, your bond only became stronger. At night, when you aren't abruptly awoken by an ambush of some kind, you feel truly grateful for the people you have met on your journey so far, and sometimes, it even feels possible that the world outside is not on the cusp of completely imploding. When the morning comes, it is a different matter entirely, but there is no need to trouble yourself with that when there are drinks to be had and jokes to be shared.

"Ooh, lookie here." Karlach suddenly lowers her voice into a whisper, gesturing with her flask to the cluster of trees up ahead.

You turn your gaze, realising instantly that the alcohol is starting to take effect because your eyes don't seem to catch up immediately with the motion of your head. In the darkness, a figure can be seen clearly trying their best to do the opposite. It wouldn't matter if you were bordering on comatose from a night of drinking, you would be able to recognise the pale hair and even paler skin of Astarion, who is slinking from the woods looking completely dishevelled. To start with, his boots and trousers are caked in mud, but only the front, suggesting that he was kneeling down on the ground. As your eyes travel upwards, it is immediately clear why he would be engaging in such behaviour, because his previously white shirt is splattered with blood; fresh blood, that is, which you have developed quite the knack for spotting. Watching him intoxicatingly wobble towards his tent, it is impossible to suppress the laughter when you recall a time when Astarion tried to keep his vampiric nature hidden. How he was ever capable of pulling the wool over your eyes is a mystery to you. What really sends you into a fit of laughter, however, is the sight of him missing the way to his tent entirely, curving off towards Wyll's abode where he appears to have finally fallen fully asleep. Astarion evidently believes he is pulling this off, because when he trips over Wyll's discarded boots, his eyes fly open and he falls to the ground with a yelp. Karlach and Gale join in your hysterics, breaking the very brief silence that had enveloped the camp for a moment or two. Karlach is bellowing so much that she feels the need to slap you hard on the back, which nearly sends you face-first into the fire. Gale has laid his tome on the floor, demonstrating that he is far more interested in whatever is going on around him than anything scrawled on paper. It takes a moment or two before Astarion fully realises what has happened. He picks himself up, obviously standing far too quickly because he wobbles again, but is able to keep his footing his time. You imagine that if he was capable of blushing that he would have started to turn as scarlet as the blood patterning his shirt. Instead, he scrunches his face up in a scowl, directing a scornful glare over to the three of you sittingbeside the fire.

"Come on, no need to strop!" Karlach yells far louder than necessary "Happens to the best of us."

"Is that so?" Astarion spits out, making his way over to your motley crew, clearly thinking very carefully about staying upright "Pray tell what made you think that we are comparable in any way."

Karlach sputters out another laugh "Fair play. I was trying to be nice, but sod that. Guess we aren't comparable after all, because I never would have eaten shit like that." She repeats Astarion's word back at him with a snooty tone.

You've never been one to kick someone when they're down, but you are far too drunk to maintain your morals, so you mirror Karlach's laughter, which only spurs Astarion further into rage.

"Yes?" Astarion blurts out "Something to add, do you?"

"Relax, Astarion." You stretch out the first word far longer than necessary, betraying how intoxicated you truly are "Sit down, have a drink."

Astarion's pout melts away into a smirk, his hand slinking up to his hip "I appreciate the offer, really I do, but as you can see, I've already partaken."

"That explains the stumbling." Gale interjects, his voice far quieter than everyone elses but still filled with the same self-confidence.

Before Astarion can even retort with a venomous remark, Karlach is pulling Astarion down to the ground, wrapping her hand around his slim wrist and practically throwing him into a spot around the fire. A small gasp escapes Astarion's lips as he hurtles onto the dirt, managing to stop himself from falling over again. In moments like these, witnessing the sheer strength of your tiefling companion contrasted with the suppleness of your vampire accomplice that you wish you were incapable of blushing. You watch a flicker in Astarion's eyes, which you interpret as an inner conflict of debating whether to huff off to his tent after that minor embarrassment or remain seated to give the impression that he wasn't fazed at all. Much to your delight, he settles for the latter.

"So, what exactly were you partaking in tonight, if you don't mind us asking?" Gale queries, taking a sip from his wine.

Astarion chuckles, sitting up straight and flicking his hair back slightly, it clearly doesn't take long for him to reassume his persona "Quite the hunt tonight, I must say. To cut a very long and impressive story short, it was a bear."

"Cub. A bear cub, surely?" Karlach masterfully completes Astarion's sentence with a grin "No offence, mate, but I can't picture you taking down a proper bear."

"Well, darling, it isn't my business whether your imagination is limited." Astarion bites back "The fact of the matter is that I indulged in a deliciousursine beast tonight."

"Quite the feat." Gale speaks a little louder this time, it's no secret to you that Astarion leaves him a little on edge "How did you manage that?"

"Without a sweat, I think you'll find." Astarion hums, clearly proud of himself "Would you care for me to demonstrate?"

As he asks this question, Astarion's eyes trace over everyone surrounding him, finally locking with your gaze. All of a sudden you realise that you've not said anything since Astarion emerged from the woods, and now that you're desperate to remedy this silence, you can't think of anything to say. It is as if time slows to a halt, and all that there ever was is this moment. Thankfully, Karlach drives an elbow into your side, breaking you completely out of this trance.

"Sounds like fighting talk to me, soldier." Karlach pretends to whisper "Do us a favour, will you?"

You laugh nervously, trying to keep your cool "You must be joking. How do I resemble a bear in any way? Karlach is right here!"

"Yes but she's a volcanic eruption waiting to happen, it would hardly be fair." Astarion speaks quickly as though these words were pre-prepared "There's no need to get me started on the damp wizard either."

"Hey!" Gale unenthusiastically defends himself, fully aware that his participation was never up for debate.

"Come onnnnn." Karlach urges "It would be so satisfying to see you put this beanpole in his place. We'll make a game of it, it'll be fun!"

You raise an eyebrow, encouraging her to speak further.

"I've got it, I've got it. Hear me out." She rambles, neglecting to acknowledge that nobody else was speaking "You two face off, and every time one of you lands a hit on the other, me or Gale will drink."

"Now I'm involved?" Gale asks "Can I at least drink whenever Tav wipes that smirk off Astarion's face? I'm not about to root for someone who uses my own name as an insult."

"Sure, sure, whatever. I'm drunk enough as it is." Karlach waves her hand dismissively "I'll be happy just to see this shit go down."

"This is the part where you tell me what I'm getting out of this." You state rather firmly, trying to ignore that Astarion has kept staring at you ever since he posed that tantalising question.

"Fine, fine." Karlach smiles "Whoever wins the brawl out of you two can make a demand of the other one. But, if we're being honest, that will just get you a free pass for him to wash your underclothes because I don't see this turning out in his favour."

Astarion laughs loudly at this, finally breaking his eyes away from yours "Please, I beg, keep up this charade. It's ever so entertaining for me to see how greatly you underestimate my power." He pauses, locking his gaze on you once more "Do we have a deal?"

"Don't let Wyll hear you. I think those words are still quite haunting for him." Gale sniggers, the redness on his cheeks betraying how quickly the wine is taking effect.

Before you give any sign of whether you are in agreement or not, Astarion is crawling towards you on his hands and knees, still caked in mud and blood, sliding past Karlach to offer his hand to solidify the pact. With him so close now, you do not doubt that you are betraying your true thoughts somewhat, because it is impossible to look at the dried streak of red falling from his lips without your throat drying up. His hair, which is usually so perfectly moulded, has fallen apart in cascades of curls that now complement the sharpness of his bone structure. Again, you feel the world around you disappearing into silence, sharing this short moment that could not have lasted longer than a few seconds. Fearing a further revelation of your private thoughts, you consider refusing, knowing that putting yourself at Astarion's mercy is something you are unlikely to recover from while maintaining any sense of dignity. All the same, there is a darker part of your heart that is eager to have him at your mercy, to show him that you aren't an easy target to pick on. These conflicting opinions undergo a mini brawl on their own in your mind, showing no sign of a clear winner. In a compulsive instant, you reach your hand out to clasp Astarion's, a smirk growing on your lips that almost mirrors his own.

"Deal." You manage to speak firmly even though your insides feel as though they're fluttering "How do you-"

Before there's even a chance for you to finish off your question, which would have something along the lines of how you were going to start this fight, Astarion pulls himself towards you in what feels like the blink of an eye, knocking you back onto the ground while he manages to rise on both feet. You pull yourself back up, welcomed by the sight of Astarion grinning excitedly as he takes a few steps back into a relatively open space next to the campfire.

"I believe that warrants a sip of wine from our maladroit mage." Astarion practically purrs "That is, if I'm understanding the rules of this little game correctly."

Gale glares disapprovingly, but takes a gulp of his drink all the same. Karlach is still recovering from her fit of laughter, reaching with her arm to whack you playfully.

"Come on, come on!" She encourages "You can't let the cheeky git get away with that."

Despite the amount you've drank by this point, it doesn't take more than a moment for you to shift your mind into combat mode. Obviously, no weapons will be permitted, or that would just be asking for a bloodbath. Fortunately, hand-to-hand brawls have been your speciality for as long as you can remember, and it has been quite some time since you were faced with a challenger who actually posed some sort of threat. Whatever strange feelings you seem to be developing for Astarion aside, now is the time to prove your mettle. And so, you rise up, getting a few clicks out of your joints as you walk over to face Astarion with a few paces between you.

"Very intimidating." Astarion mocks, lowering himself slightly to the ground as though he were about to pounce.

There it is again, that momentary freeze. Except, this time, instead of feeling vulnerable under Astarion's fixed gaze, you are empowered by it. You've become so accustomed to this feeling: watching every tiny movement made by your opponent in an effort to predict their next strategy. In a flash, Astarion is moving again, trying to trick you into surging towards a particular direction so that he can swerve around you. He's fast, that much is obvious. Even still, you know exactly how to counteract it. As Astarion tries to slink around behind you to land a blow into your side, you turn your body around in an instant, pushing out your hand so that you catch his forearm. He is instantly stopped in his tracks, giving you the perfect opportunity to force your other fist into his stomach. Perhaps you hit a little too hard, but you felt the need to get at least a little bit of payback for his dirty tactics earlier. Astarion lets out a guttural grunt, his eyes flicking downwards to your hand as though he can't understand what just unfolded. The pained expression onhis face that lasts for a mere moment is worth it, there's no doubt about that. Gale feels equally celebratory, letting out a loud whoop as Karlach cheerily takes another sip of her drink.

"Too right!" Gale yells out "Show that fanged feind who's boss!"

Astarion tries to shake his arm away, clearly expecting that you will have loosened your grip by now. For a second, you keep him in your grasp, undoubtedly revealing that you are enjoying this experience far more than was expected. When you finally let him go, he doesn't wait for you to move past revelling in your momentary victory. Instead, he ducks down, kicking your knee so hard that you struggle to remain standing, falling forward slightly into a stumble. Karlach shouts out, likely encouraging Gale to have another gulp, but you don't hear anything she says because your mind is far too distracted by the small blade that Astarion has whipped out from who knows where. Instead of letting you fall to the ground as your knee gives way, Astarion catches your weight with one arm and uses the other to curl a knife around your neck. Ever so slightly, you can feel the coldness of the steel against your warm flesh. It is not merely pressed against the skin, it is bordering on puncturing.

"Bullshit!" Karlach booms, her festive tone clearly being overwhelmed by genuine panic "No fucking weapons!"

Astarion chuckles, a rich sound that seems to have reverberated through your own body because of how close you are. The blade is still there, requiring only a flick of his wrist to leave you bleeding on the ground. Your eyes are locked together once again, and there is such a small space between your faces that you can feel his breath against your cheek. This is the closest you've ever come to his fangs before; they look even sharper than the blade in his hand. Up close, you half expected that there would be a flaw or two to be seen, especially considering his appearance always seems so perfect when you're travelling together. And yet, you cannot see even the slightest blemish. You start to hear Gale murmuring something, perhaps a spell to pull you two apart with minimal damage, and it is only at this point that the panic sets in. There's no time to wonder why you feel more anxious about a knife being pulled away from your neck than it being pressed against your skin, you need to act. As carefully as you can, you close the distance between your bodies ever so slightly, causing the metal to minimally pierce your flesh. The feeling of blood prickling out is nothing peculiar to you, but you still need to be cautious about taking this too far. As the red starts to colour a thin line, Astarion's eyes become dark, his tongue even poking slightly out of his mouth to lick the corner of his upper lip. This is exactly what you were after. In his moment of indulgence, you act, gripping his wrist tight with one hand and pushing him backwards with the other. While he stumbles, you maintain your grip, spinning around his side so that the arm is now pinned against his back. All that is left to do is kick hard at the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground with the knife still held by his twisted arm. Allowing yourself to fall down with him, you place your knee relatively gently in between his hips; your other arm is free enough to perform a stereotypically masculine flex, signalling to Karlach to take another drink. Astarion wriggles beneath you, trying desperately to free himself from your grip, but there is nowhere for him to go. His face twists slightly so that he can meet your gaze, revealing that his white cheek has been muddied with dirt from the ground. There is a mixture of frustration and pleading in his eyes, as though you would give in not out of pity but out of fear.

"Very intimidating." You repeat, a wide grin spreading across your lips.

Gale and Karlach are both cheering from the fire "We have a winner!"

"Must I beg for you to let me up?" Astarion asks, the all-too-familiar smug tone honeying his words "Or should I get used to a new life on the ground?"

"Play your cards right, we'll see." You wink, letting go of your grip and rising effortlessly to your feet.

"Oh, I see." Astarion smirks, rolling over onto his side before getting fully up "Should I hazard a guess at what you're going to demand of me with your victory?"

His voice has slipped into a tone you've never heard from him before, as though he is speaking from the back of his throat. The words come out nearly rough, almost hard to hear. All the confidence you gained from this fight seems to wash away, leaving you again with a knot in your stomach that only tightens when you look at him.

You force a hardly convincing chuckle "You wish, Astarion. Get ready to serve as my pack horse for the next week."

Astarion matches your laugh with his own, finally rising to his feet and taking a step closer so that he can drop his words into a whisper "I don't wish, my dear, I desire. And what I desire, I get."

Without a chance to even think of something clever to say, he is sauntering back to the fire, his hips swaying in his now fairly filthy trousers. Gale and Karlach are laughing with one another as Astarion approaches, evidently recreating some of the moments from your brawl with sweeping gestures.

"Hard luck, mate." Karlach tuts, offering a fresh cup of wine with an outreached hand "Maybe next time."

"Please." Astarion smiles, taking the wine and spreading himself out beside the fire "I hardly thought it would be good for morale if our little leader was so easily defeated."

"Your ability to twist reality is certainly impressive, I'll give you that." Gale offers up his own flask in a minimal cheers gesture.

Catching just the end of this, you reassume your space next to Karlach, picking up your own ale and finishing what is left. Karlach is ready to fill in your cup before the last drop has even touched your lips. She knocks her drink against yours, raising her eyebrows.

"Well fought, soldier." Karlach beams "Not that we doubted you for a second."

Astarion is fussing with the stains on his clothes, trying to appear far less bothered than he clearly is "I must admit, I've never known any bear to fight quite so brutishly."

"And I've never known a vampire to fight so dirty." You quip back, hiding your smirk behind your drink.

Another chortling laugh breaks from Astarion's lips "If you thought that was dirty, you don't know the first thing about me, darling."

There is a dark look in his eyes again, making you feel as though he is able to see right through you, far past the bravado you show on the surface and deep into what you're really thinking. If that is possible, it does not seem that he is repulsed in any way by the sordid thoughts taking up residency in your brain. Yet again, one of the only things you can be certain about Astarion is that he is not a trustworthy character. Maybe he is merely trying to get into your head, where he'd find space among the tadpole you don't know, so that he can get something of you. You know that you could spend all night trying to figure him out, and would probably be even further away by the end than when you started. All the same, something you know for sure is that when you sparred with him, you felt more ecstatic than you have in a long time. Looking into the beautiful face of death, you were truly alive.

[mithranqueersmusings]

Here There and Everywhere IV

Chapter: 4/?

Rating: U

Summary:  You’re a regular to The Cavern and you’ve always loved watching The Beatles play, even if you do have to deal with sweaty crowds, screaming girls and pervy guys. One day under rather unfortunate circumstances, you finally get to meet them which eventually, and oddly, leads to them living with you.

Tags: Domestic fluff, slow burn, eventual smut/romance

Pairings: George Harrison/Reader

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The four boys and yourself were introduced to a bleak, grey morning as you stepped out of the house. Murmurs of activity could be heard and spotted down the street, with men hurrying off to work with briefcases in hand and women chattering with their neighbours with a warm cup of tea clutched in their grasp. You found yourself naturally gravitating towards George as the five of you walked towards the main road, but worries started to form about how obvious your affection might be. Always inclining a little too much towards paranoia, you began to fear that failing to mask your appreciation of him - to put it mildly - would not only push the rest of the group away but could even make George uncomfortable. Whenever you joined your friends at The Cavern, each girl made no secret of who her favourite of the four was; you could recall, rather embarrassingly now, how each of you would fantasise about being with their respective choice. From the very beginning, George had drawn your eye. Maybe it was because he was the youngest and closest to your own age, but it was certainly much more than that. As a quiet person yourself, there seemed to be an immediate connection with the brooding boy at the back of the stage, with dark eyebrows knitted close together as he played along with the rest. So many girls were enamoured by the brightness of Paul's eyes or the strength of John's features, but you were almost always watching George. Considering how much time had been spent daydreaming about even having a conversation with the mysterious guitarist, it was so peculiar now that you were walking right beside him as though you were merely friends. You knew it would take some time to readdress the power imbalance in your mind, essentially shifting from idolising an essential stranger to welcoming him into your home. Evidently, it was obvious that you were lost in your thoughts because John span around from his conversation with Ringo to question you blatantly.

"Not having doubts, are we?" He grinned, his hair still ruffled from the night before. 

You were caught off guard, but this surprise soon melted away into a genuine smile "Unlikely." You retorted, raising your eyebrow, "Unless there's something you're not telling me?"

"Many, many things." John's grin widened "I'd much rather you found out yourself, though." 

Ringo gave John a soft nudge, knocking him slightly into the road "Can you stop ruining our chances of sleeping under a decent roof for a few minutes?"

"You act as though we're uncivilised beasts." Paul chimed in, standing at the head of the group to guide the way.

"Not at all! I just act like an uncivilised beast." John's good humour seemed to be unshakable, causing you to laugh quietly as you watched his charade "Not that you seem to mind, Paulie." 

George let out a soft groan, rolling his eyes "Keep it in your trousers, John, it's not even midday yet."

Watching them bounce off of one another effortlessly filled you with a sense of complete ease. Even though John was clearly the most unhinged of the group, there was no doubt in your mind that he merely wanted to make the others laugh. As if on cue, John slinked closer to George following his comment, walking backwards as though it took no effort at all. 

"That's funny, I don't recall you saying that last night after your little bathroom incident." John teased, from the brightness of his eyes, it was clear he was trying to push George's buttons, you only wished that you weren't caught in the crossfire.

"How did you-" George began, his face scrunching up in frustration.

"Thin walls, my friend." John winked, turning his gaze to you with a playful expression "Awfully convenient that he walked in at that exact moment, don't you think?"

A knot in your stomach threatened to form with these words, building off of your fear that the intentions of these seemingly innocent musicians were far more sinister than you dared to consider. Yet, you fought back against this urge, reminding yourself of how genuinely apologetic George had been alongside how eager he had been to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation by putting himself in the same position. 

"I do think that you might be projecting a little." You winked back at him "Just keep those thin walls in mind when you're shacking up with Paul, yeah?"

John's face dropped for a moment before an even broader smile replaced his fleeting sorrow. He bowed down dramatically as though submitting to your retort. Ringo was laughing heartily while Paul tried to maintain a composed expression so as not to commit entirely to either side of the dispute. Feeling rather proud of yourself, you turned to smile over at George, who was looking right back at you. The intensity of his gaze made your sense of elation falter for a second, but you tried desperately to hide this from your expression. George's thin lips curled upwards, only just exposing the bottom of his sharp canines, and you were instantly at ease. It wasn't too long before you'd arrived at the strange establishment that the boys had been calling home for the time being. Even before you went inside, you almost knew what to expect. The walls were dull and hostile, as though the entire structure was built out of concrete. There seemed to be no indication that anyone was living here, perhaps other than the smell. Tentatively, you followed Paul inside to an even more depressing interior.

"Remind me who blackmailed you into living here." You mumbled, almost to yourself, as a key was produced to unlock the door to a minuscule living space.

"I wouldn't go as far as blackmailed, but it was John's idea." Ringo chuckled as you all crammed into the tiny room.

Thinking back on John's comment that the four of them lived in a cupboard, you realised that even that was an optimistic outlook. Four battered mattresses were crammed into each of the corners, with belongings strewn about as though an earthquake had just occurred. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of it, and you genuinely started to question whether this was some sort of practical joke. Like clockwork, each of the boys started to gather their belongings haphazardly into any sort of container they could find. Whilst you never thought of yourself as a particularly clean or orderly person, watching clothes and books getting shoved mercilessly into bags already bursting at the seams caused a noticeable amount of discomfort.

"You've seriously been sleeping in here?" You asked in utter disbelief, cautiously taking a seat on the mattress with the least amount of stains.

"The glamorous life of rock'n'roll." Paul laughed as he took a seat next to you "It's not that bad, honestly. By the time we finish a show, we're so knackered that we all basically pass out."

"The drink helps, of course." Ringo added as he rummaged through a pile of clothes.

"But... I thought you guys grew up around here. Why don't you just live at home?" You were desperate for answers, not being able to logically put together a reason for willingly staying in a place as dreary as this.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" John blurted out, currently using his foot to flatten the contents of his bag so that he could shove even more inside "You're not going to get much life experience cooped up with your rents, are you?"

"Oh sure, lot's of life experience." You feigned agreement "Maybe even as much as the diseases you'll catch, I reckon."

"She's got you there, John." George spoke up, previously being very quiet as he gathered his meagre belongings together, and John responded with a childish sticking out of the tongue.

"Come on, now we've got a chance of getting out of here, you all suddenly despite it?" John scoffed "You know that we wouldn't have been able to get up to half the stupid shit we've been doing if we had to go home every night."

John looked around the room with an inquisitive glare, stumping George, Paul, and Ringo from saying anything in disagreement. You immediately wanted to ask exactly what sort of things they had been getting up to in such a cramped space, but part of you didn't really want to know the answer. If anything, the magazines that had been quickly hidden before you'd gotten a chance to even read the cover gave you a small indication of what John meant. There were also some empty bottles messily dotted about the room, making it clear that heavy drinking was a favoured pastime.

"Should I expect this 'stupid shit' to continue under my roof, then?" You posed the question to all of them, not just John, hoping to get a vague idea of exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Paul answered instantaneously, not even giving John the chance to get a breath out "We'll be nothing but respectful, I think you'll find. That isn't to say we won't get a little boisterous now and again, but we're certainly not going to put you out."

"Unless you want us to, of course." Ringo caught you by surprise as he playfully mussed up your hair as he walked past, trying to gather the last bits and pieces that had been left out.

"I'm in no rush to start acting like a mother or a landlady." You spoke with clarity and confidence "Don't think of me as some uptight matron, alright? If anything, I'm drawn more towards stupid shit than I am the mundane life I've been living as of late."

"Now you're talking." George chuckled, triumphantly throwing a bag over his shoulder.

"Careful now, don't say something you might regret." Paul warned with a smile, following George's lead and gathering all the bags together.

"I think she's perfectly capable of saying exactly what she means, thank you!" John was clearly growing more and more excited "I think this momentous occasion calls for a bit of celebration, don't you?"

John met your gaze with a twinkle in his eye, and there seemed to be nothing you could do to stop the waves of laughter pouring out. Even though you knew deep down that you were getting yourself into something bizarre and somewhat taboo, it was clear that it was likely one of the best decisions you'd ever made. Exactly how you were going to explain to anyone why a band of wayward musicians had started occupying your childhood home, you didn't know, but a large part of you didn't care in the slightest. Being in the orbit of these lively young men made you feel more content and genuinely excited about life than ever before, so there was no way you were going to spoil it by thinking too much or considering all the potential downsides. Instead, you urged yourself to merely go with the flow and see where it took you. If George was going to be along for the ride, you couldn't think of anywhere else you'd rather be. Although no words were exchanged, you got the impression that John knew exactly what you were thinking because the mischievous look spread across his angular face only intensified.

"Considering our accommodation has already been provided, seems only fair that we take care of the rest, right lads?" Ringo posed the question more as a statement.

All three boys nodded in almost eerie unison, reminding you of one of the reasons you were so enraptured with them in the very place whenever watching them on stage. There was a moment of stillness after this, but it didn't last for long. John evidently could not keep his excitement contained for much longer as he rushed towards you without warning. Your eyes widened in confusion as you were lifted off of the floor and into his arms. Even though you had no idea what was going on, you couldn't stop yourself from giggling like a child. Ringo wasn't far behind, spinning his keys around his finger in preparation for piling into his car. Paul and George disgruntledly carried the bags with full arms and bulking shoulders, murmuring about John's exceptional talent of avoiding responsibility. Your captor mirrored your laughter, kicking doors open as you made your way back onto the street. Despite his erratic nature, you felt undisputedly safe in his company, and you almost hoped that he'd carry you all the way home like this. Yet, before long, he had to set you back onto the ground while the heaving bags were thrown into the boot of Ringo's car. Being unable to drive yourself, it was hard not to be excited about everything this vehicle opened to you. While your subconscious tried eagerly to manufacture reasons that you should be feeling incredibly nervous about this whole ordeal, you overwrote them with genuine excitement about the shenanigans you would all be getting up to.

"Nice car." Was all you managed to articulate from this array of thoughts.

"And for that, you can ride up front with me." Ringo opened the door for you chivalrously, to which you responded with an equally exaggerated courtesy.

"Watch out, he uses that line on all the birds." George almost made you jump with his silent approach, but he ducked into the car before you could even respond.

"Steady on, George. It's not like he's asking her to handle his stick shift." Paul teased, nudging George further into the car so that he could sit by the window.

You tried to stop your cheeks from blushing, but there was little you could do. Instead, you busied yourself with the seatbelt while the boys continued to mess about in the back. It reminded you a lot of being back at school, excluding the depressing authoritative regime and the need to remember useless facts, as the lightness of their dynamic was so contagious that you felt as though there was nothing to worry about. The only thing that made your stomach flip, however minimally, was the effect George's eyes seemed to have on you, even if they were caught momentarily in the rearview mirror. John was demonstrably going to be a handful, but nothing you couldn't manage. Ringo and Paul were both more level-headed and considerate, so you knew there'd be no problems there. George, on the other hand, seemed unpredictable in a way completely different from John. You knew how likely it was that things would get messy, but the possible benefits of being able to spend time with these boys far outweighed any issues you could foresee in the not-too-distant future. For the time being, you were going to enjoy yourself. Ringo gave you a reassuring smirk before you drove off, and you pushed yourself to remain in this state of relaxation.

"Not heading straight home, are we?" John queried, slotting his head in between the two seats.

"Where did you have in mind?" Ringo responded, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

"I do recall someone saying something about a celebration." John giggled "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's not much of a celebration without a drink or two."

"Really? I recall that certain someone being you, if my memory doesn't fail me." Paul tried to pull John back into his seat to no avail.

"Come on." John pleaded "If anything, look at it as a test. We'll get so railed that we show what absolute twats we really are. Then, if it’s not to your liking, we'll be off in the morning."

"Don't think you need a drop of alcohol to make that clear, John." George poked, his sharp teeth teasingly showing.

"Har har." John rolled his eyes "It'll be a laugh, alright? I'll cover the costs if I bleeding have to."

"That'll be the day." Ringo didn't even hesitate but quickly softened the blow "It would be fun, though. Get it all out in the open so we're not keeping up appearances for the sake of it."

"And what if I absolutely embarrass myself, what then?" You asked, half joking.

"Then we know we've found a kindred spirit." John's smile widened once again, only now being satisfied enough to sit back in his seat.

Ringo drove past the turning for your house, continuing on to the nearest shop to pick up a few bottles of whatever poison John had in mind. A bubbling of nerves started to form deep in your stomach, but it was hard to decipher whether it was actual panic or just pure excitement. It had been a long time since you'd completely let loose in the comfort of your own home, and part of you worried about what might slip out. At that very moment, you were surrounded by four of the most charismatic and attractive boys who had bothered to give you the time of day; it was simply too good to be true. There was no way something catastrophic wasn't waiting up ahead to rip it all from you. Even so, there was no denying that there was fun to be had before this inevitable disaster. If that was the case, you were determined to make the most of it while it lasted, even if it meant overstepping a boundary or two. Cautiously, you watched George in the rearview mirror, moving your gaze away whenever you thought he might catch you staring. With so much mystery surrounding him, you couldn't help feeling anticipation about what a generous helping of alcohol might do to his demeanour. Considering how things had gone the night before, there was a chance that something spectacular might happen. All you had to do was play your cards right, whatever that meant in a strange situation such as this. It would help if you even knew what cards you were holding in the first place, let alone what to do with them.

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I’ll Love You Too VI

Chapter: 6/?

Rating: E 

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

It was of little surprise to Ringo that he was abandoned by John almost immediately upon entering the club. He wished he'd insisted that his friend stay but perhaps it'd be easier this way, maybe he could confront whatever feelings threatened to arise more discreetly now that he was on his own. He found solace in the bar, ordering two drinks for himself and slumping over as he looked out among the crowd of decorated dancers and sleazy patrons. Ringo started to regret coming at all, but he knew he had to do this.

"One of those for me?" A voice almost made Ringo jump, the low tones unmistakable.

George stood behind him with a satisfied smile, his eyes shimmering with a confident light; Ringo wasn't surprised considering just how good he looked. It was one thing to see George like this on his tiny phone screen and a complete other to witness him standing before him. The sheer bodysuit caught the low lights of the club beautifully, drawing the eye to wander over the lines of George's toned body. His chest was bare underneath the material, his nipples hard with the coldness of the room. Ringo caught himself staring, his eyes wandering to what appeared to be a purple, lace thong which just about preserved George's modesty.

"I'm gonna take that," George paused and recreated Ringo's dumbfounded, hungry stare before snatching one of the drinks "as a yes."

"Sorry, sorry." Ringo tried to phsyically shake himself out of it, but he couldn't help his eyes trailing "You just look..."

"Painfully fuckable?" George offered in the absence of Ringo's words "Like a father's worst nightmare? Any of these helping you out at all?"

Ringo laughed nervously, drowning his anxiety with his bitter drink "You look gorgeous, but you don't need me to tell you that."

"Well it doesn't hurt to hear it." George smirked, his eyes dark and unreadable "You excited for my show? I'm praying these boots don't give out on me."

Ringo had hardly even noticed the footwear from where he was sitting, his eyes had been preoccupied with other areas, but now he straightened up in his seat he realised how much taller George was. The boots were platforms, leather to match the skirt, reaching all the way up to the middle of George's slim thighs.

"Jesus, those are insane. How are you even walking around?" Ringo guffawed, absentmindedly running his tongue across his lips.

"Painfully, that's how." George winced, leaning on the stool behind him for support "I wouldn't absolutely hate it if you offered to walk me backstage... Just putting that out there."

Ringo chuckled "Away we go." He downed the rest of his drink and slid out of the stool onto the floor, only now did he compute the new height difference between the two of them.

George similarly finished his drink, his face twitching in disgust. Ringo offered his arm which George took gladly, the two of them began shuffling towards the backstage door. Ringo felt absolutely tiny walking beside George, but he couldn't deny that he rather enjoyed it.

"If you can hardly walk, how are you gonna dance in these things?" Ringo asked with concern, partially masking it as a joke.

"Don't worry about me, darling." George winked playfully "I'll be just fine. Just make you're sat somewhere I can see you, alright?"

"Alright." Ringo replied, his face heating up in response to the unexpected pet name "I'll see you out there."

"You sure will." George planted a quick kiss on Ringo's cheek before scooting through the door, his boots clacking against the floor.

Ringo stood aimlessly for a few moments, before desperately darting for another drink (or two) from the bar before the show started. The lights began to dim and Ringo found a seat secluded enough from the other customers as the familiar announcement played over the speakers. On the stage was nothing but the central pole, a sudden wave of anticipation rushed through Ringo as he settled into his seat. Then the music began to play, it was Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus; following shortly behind was a confident George strutting onto the stage.

Under the stage lights he looked absolutely irresistible, Ringo savoured this moment of being able to gawp openly without George knowing. The several inches added onto his height only furthered his intimidating appearance, his dark makeup accentuated everything perfectly. His slender fingers gripped around the pole as he began to spin, the sharp points of the heels drew Ringo's attention immediately as images began to flood his mind. He pictured running his tongue alongside the leather heel, taking it entirely into his mouth as he locked eyes with George. The fantasy was abruptly cut short as Ringo's mind was drawn to the water suddenly cascading down from above the stage. Shit, was all he managed to think.

He'd only seen this once before, a group of dancers had performed a part-erotic part-comedic rendition of It's Raining Men around a week ago. Ringo supposed it was only inevitable it would appear in one of George's routines, but he cursed himself for not anticipating it sooner. The water fell slowly, cascading down George's hair and onto his shimmering body. Soon he was upside down, his ankles wrapped around the pole so delicately, arching his back towards the stream.

Ringo shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, his jeans suddenly feeling painfully restrictive. He took a quick glance around at the other customers who seemed just as transfixed as he was, all eyes were hungrily raking over George's wet body. A thought pricked up within Ringo's mind: if nobody was looking at him, surely he could... No, no, that'd be ridiculous and not to mention potentially illegal, Ringo told himself. But with George looking so irresistible, his body beginning to drip, it was almost impossible for Ringo to not relieve himself in some way. He took another look around as he cautiously slid his hand underneath the fabric of his boxers, trying to cover his illicit activity with his coat. He silenced a hiss as the coldness of his rings pressed against the heat of his erection, then began to slowly jerk himself off as he locked eyes with George.

George continued as though he hadn't noticed a thing, dipping down on the pole with his knees open wide to display his tiny thong. Just as suddenly as it had began, the water stopped. Ringo paused his movements, afraid that any motion would give him away. Next a chair was placed on the stage, the image alone was enough to alert the jealous parts of Ringo's mind, but his arousal was far too strong to be overcome by anything that threatened to derail it. Ringo began quickening his pace as George sauntered over to a bulky man who was clearly more than a few beers in. The man lit up at George's non-verbal invitiation and allowed himself to be led to the chair, grinning back at his friends who cheered in support.

George circled around the seated man, his arse cheeks more than peeking from underneath the leather skirt. He began by straddling him, throwing his legs around with such expertise that Ringo began to question why he'd been so reluctant to come back here. That was until the man overstepped a boundary, bringing his hand down hard onto George's backside with a cheeky grin. Ringo paused completely, desperate to see how George would respond. He knew what he'd want to do, if he could have his way he'd be kicking this fucker off the stage and gifting him a black eye or two, but there was no other option than to play along. George feigned a giggle and passed a sideways glance to the edge of the stage, and a few seconds latter a pair of handcuffs were being hurried over to George.

The crowd grew even more excited, the man's friends beginning to chant his name obnoxiously as George made work of the metal cuffs. The man looked almost as desperate as Ringo, who was cautiously continuing his strokes. George returned to his earlier position and sank down to the floor so that he was on his knees, being sure to grind his hips down the man's legs as he descended. Then he began making his way up with his tongue, Ringo groaned at the sight of the man struggling against his cuffs in a desperate attempt for any sort of contact. George brought himself back up to his feet and sat comfortably in the man's lap, careful not to brush anything together, as he began nibbling on the man's ears. His eyes scanned the crowd and fixed directly onto Ringo's, he ran his tongue over his teeth as he began grinding his hips down onto the man's visible erection.

Ringo struggled to keep his head up, his pace growing sloppy as he used his other hand to finish off his second drink. George's hair was still dripping somewhat, his body sparkling and his makeup only a little runny; it was almost too much. Just as the man began to thrust upwards to meet George's clothed erection, his lap was suddenly empty and George was behind the chair unlocking the handcuffs. The man looked absolutely dazed, not appearing to be entirely aware of the situation as one of his friends appeared at the edge of the stage to help him back to his seat. Ringo couldn't help chuckling at the sight.

George began circling the pole once more, but this time his eyes were unmistakably seeking out Ringo in the crowd. For a moment Ringo considered pulling his hand away altogether, afraid he'd taken it a step too far, but the dark look of lust in George's eyes was enough to convince him to continue. Ringo was getting close, the realisation sobered him up somewhat as he began to consider the logistics of this situation. He couldn't exactly finish here, but it felt too good to just stop all of a sudden. Instead he tried to calm himself down somewhat, slowing his pace as he focused on the sight of George's supple body twisting in the air. It felt as though everyone else in the room vanished, and it was just the two of them alone. Ringo felt fit to burst, his mind ravenous as he desperately urged to run his hands over George's skin.

The time flew, Ringo wasn't entirely sure how long it had been exactly but George was getting down off the pole as the lights dimmed once again. Hastily Ringo pulled his hands out of his boxers as the crowd began to come back to life, afraid that someone might see. With shaky legs Ringo hastened to the bar, ordering himself another double as he tried to calm himself. He downed it without a flinch and ordered a second immediately, trying to consciously slow his breath. His mind was absolutely swimming in a mixture of arousal, envy and general confusion. He only snapped out of it when a hand wrapped around the back of neck rather possessively.

"Bathroom, now." The stern voice demanded, whispering close into Ringo's ear before sinking their teeth into the lobe.

Ringo span himself around willingly, allowing George to grip him by the arm and drag him towards the toilets. It was about time he had his turn.

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I’ll Love You Too V

Chapter: 5/?

Rating: T 

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

George later joined Ringo in the shower, both of them far too exhausted to do anything remotely sexual so they'd hold each other, or playfully wash the other's hair. The difference in demeanour from both of them comparing their debauched behavior to only an hour ago would've surprised anyone. Next the bed inevitably had to be changed, Ringo expected that once he'd sobered up the shame would start to sink in but it never did; there was nothing to be ashamed of when he was with George.

The two of them fell asleep almost instantly, crashing down onto the fresh sheets and cuddling into the warmth of one another's bodies. Morning came far too quickly, Ringo tried to ignore the sunlight seeping in through the curtains just so he could spend more time in bed with George. Eventually his alarm starting blaring, and he had to leave George - still fast asleep - with a kiss on the forehead, heading back home to prepare for the student that'd be arriving soon.

Evening came around and Ringo found himself falling asleep despite his dedicated aim to spend the rest of the day reading. He could feel his consciousness slipping, melting into the warm of his bed willingly. A sudden vibration somewhere on his bedside table ripped him from this bliss. Ringo groaned, knowing he needed to stay awake considering it was only 7 pm, stretching to reach his phone to check the notification. It was a message from George, and there was a picture attached. Immediately Ringo was awake, like coffee had been injected into his veins he was sitting up straight with wide eyes.

Fancy watching me dance tonight? This just arrived.

George stood in front of his bathroom mirror in a sheer body suit, it shined from the flash of the camera, paired with a leather - pleather, knowing George - skirt and thigh high boots. The skirt was insanely short, leaving a considerable amount on display. Ringo felt his mouth dry up instantly, no matter how many times he saw George like this it always felt like the first time. Drawing his eyes away from the obvious, Ringo noticed that George was wearing makeup too: dark eyeshadow and black lipstick accentuated the sharpness of his pale face. It wasn't hard to imagine George wearing this as he dangled from the pole, his slim legs hugged so sweetly by the tight material, his arse on show for everyone to see.

Ringo paused, a pang of jealousy washing through this thoughts at the image. This was far from the first time Ringo had found himself growing rather possessive, ever since they'd started seeing each other so frequently he had avoided returning to the club altogether. He especially wasn't too keen after the previous night, when George's jealousy made itself aggressively apparent. The news of this devastated John more than anyone.

"You're telling me I'm gonna have to go alone? Like some kind of fucking creep?" John exclaimed rather dramatically, threatening to make quite the scene in the Mcdonalds queue.

"Well, you know... I'm quite busy right now with work, and-" Ringo started, lowering his voice in hopes John would follow suit.

"Bullshit!" John cut him off with a playful grin "You're getting jealous, aren't you? Isn't that cute, Ringo's jealous that his stripper boyfriend is gonna do his job."

Ringo elbowed John in the ribs, lighter than he'd like to "It's not that. It really isn't!" He repeated in response to John's look of disbelief.

"You swear? You swear you're not getting all hot and bothered at the thought of George rubbing his arse on some stranger's cock?" John teased, coming in close to Ringo's ear.

"Fuck off." Ringo scoffed, his voice betraying him somewhat "Maybe I'm a little bothered, but I'm certainly not hot."

John collected their food and immediately began eating Ringo's chips "Well do you want him to quit?" John asked, mouth full.

"Of course I don't. I practically swore to him that this would never happen so that he'd even be with me in the first place." Ringo huffed, barely noticing John's thievery.

"Well you can't just not go, he's gonna start to get suspicious." John explained "You might just have to try and enjoy it."

"Enjoy it?" Ringo chuckled "Enjoy my boyfriend getting his arse slapped by a bunch of strangers? Enjoy men getting hard at the thought of being able to fuck him?" Ringo grew flustered, practically shouting as they walked out onto the street.

"Yeah." John replied casually, looking at Ringo with a neutral expression "If you can't get him to quit, and you can't just stop going. Loads of people are into that kinda thing, it's like a cuck situation."

Ringo rolled his eyes "I have no interest in being a cuck, but thanks." Scoffing, he reached for a cigarette in his pocket and lit it.

"Sorry, sorry, my mistake." John snickered "But still, you can make it pretty hot in your mind. Just imagine George pulls up some guy on stage, you get to watch the guy get all horned up from your boyfriend and you get to admire George's stripping abilities from afar."

"Are you just saying all this so that I'll go with you?" Ringo cocked an eyebrow.

"Mostly no, partly yes." John winked "Just think about it: George is probably gonna wanna make you jealous so he'll get proper dirty with it. Then you get to take him home and fuck his brains out. I see nothing but positives here." John spoke as though he were reading from a holy text.

Ringo paused, trying to make sense of John's nonsense. Was he actually considering trying this? Sometimes it was hard to tell whether he actually believed something or if John had merely convinced him, an occurrence far more frequent than Ringo would care to admit. He thought of George grinding on another man's lap while his eyes were fixed on Ringo's, like every move was truly meant for him. He thought of the other man getting hard, pawing at George's skin in desperation but experiencing no relief.

He cleared his throat "Yeah, yeah. I-I guess you're right." He stumbled over his words, masking his embarrassment by taking a bite into his burger.

Ringo chuckled to himself as he remembered this conversation, his eyes still fixed on George's glistening body. He could feel himself hardening within the comfort of his boxers, his hand insticvely moving beneath the waistband to palm himself slowly. All doubt was washed from his mind with the thought of being able to see George like this in person. He fumbled with his one free hand to send a text back before opening the picture once more.

Wouldn't miss it for the world.

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I'll Love You Too IV

Chapter: 4/?

Rating: E (Smut/Kink Warning)

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The drive back to George's was completely silent, Ringo felt almost suffocated by the tension in the car. The streets were filled with people stumbling home from whatever dingy club they'd filtered out from, Ringo watched them to pass the time as he waited for the journey to end. Ringo started rocking slightly in his seat to distract from his intensifying need for a piss.

Ringo danced around on his feet while George fiddled around with the keys to the front door, it was though he was purposefully taking longer just to make Ringo suffer. As soon as the door was open Ringo burst inside and headed straight to the bathroom but met some resistance, his intoxicated mind struggled for a few moments to register why he was no longer moving before he saw George had gripped his wrist, not too tightly but enough to stop him from stumbling further. George pulled Ringo in closer, pressing their chests together then began kissing down the exposed skin of Ringo's neck.

"George..." Ringo warned, pushing away gently at first.

George paid no attention, his teeth teasing the soft skin while his hand played with the strands of Ringo's hair.

"George." Ringo spoke more firmly "I'm fucking bursting, just give me a minute, alright?"

Ringo pushed away harder this time, yet George kept him within his grip with a dark expression on his face. It made no sense to Ringo, who managed to shake George off but remained rooted to the ground as he tried to figure out whatever thoughts were racing through George's mind.

"What's going on?" Ringo asked, managing to ignore the desperate feeling for a few moments.

George took a small step closer "I wanna try something." His tone was vague, unreadable.

"Well... Can it wait?" Ringo chuckled, suddenly feeling nervous.

Another step "No. That's the point." Ringo had never heard his voice so deep before.

Ringo's eyebrows knitted together in confusion "I don't get it."

One more step and their bodies were pressed together once more, George's hand ran down the fabric of Ringo's shirt and settled on his stomach near the bladder. For a moment or two George pressed into the flesh, intensifying Ringo's desperation in a flash of pressure. Ringo jumped backwards, it felt like a large distance but in reality it was only a step or two, completely alarmed by the feeling.

"What-What are you doing?" Ringo was flustered, his eyes darting around the space not knowing where to focus.

"Shh." George spoke softly, but there was still an edge to his voice "Relax, relax. Trust me, will you?"

"Trust you with what?" Ringo had quietened down a little, but he still felt nervous.

George pressed down on Ringo's bladder once more, softer than the last time "Doesn't that feel good?"

Ringo grunted in discomfort "Feels like I'm gonna piss myself."

George hummed pleasantly "Just lean into the pleasure, okay? Don't worry about anything else."

Ringo tried to focus his hazy mind, but it was difficult with the pressure already so built in his lower abdomen. George was drawing soothing circles on Ringo's lower back as he led them both gently over to the bedroom. Ringo tried to calm his nerves, his body becoming overwhelmed with sensations as he felt himself getting hard.

"George, I don't know-" Ringo breathed, being silenced when George pressed down on his bladder once more, surprising himself by letting out a low moan.

"See, feels good doesn't it?" George was already hard, Ringo could feel it pressing against his hip "Tell me it feels good."

Ringo groaned, it was a confusing rush of pleasure but one he certainly wasn't accustomed to. But seeing how excited George was becoming spurred Ringo to commit further, there was nothing to worry about if he was being so encouraging. It at least gave Ringo some peace of mind to realise why George had been acting so strangely before.

"Feels-Feels good, George." Ringo panted, allowing George to pull his shirt over his head.

"How much more do you think you can take?" George asked, nibbling on the lobe of Ringo's ear.

"Huh?" Ringo asked ineloquently, finding it hard to concentrate in the slightest.

"Could you drink more? I bet you could." George was evidently very aroused, even if the words themselves weren't particularly titillating.

"Er... Maybe? I don't know..." Ringo felt rather lost, his body seemed to be screaming at him to relieve himself "I'm pretty full, as it were."

The answer seemed to please George all the same as he began stripping Ringo of the remainder of his clothes until he was lying naked with his back pressed against the soft sheets of the bed. George crawled on top of him, straddling his hips as he began pumping Ringo's half-hard and sensitive cock. Ringo hissed at the contact, stopping his body from writhing around as best as he could. The alcohol was fortunately dulling any potential embarrassment Ringo might have experienced in this moment, George's dark gaze simultaneously made him feel both comfortable and entirely vulnerable.

"Fuck, George, careful..." Ringo moaned as George began quickening his pace "I don't wanna ruin your lovely sheets."

George chuckled softly "I'll wash them, don't worry about it." He flicked his tongue over the slit of Ringo's cock.

Ringo was struggling to decipher whether George was joking or not, but all he knew for certain was that he wouldn't be able to take much more before he burst.

"I can't-" Ringo began but was halted when George took Ringo wholly into his mouth, his hips bucking upward instinctively and forcing George to gag around him "Shit. I can't take much more, George..."

George continued licking and sucking down Ringo's length for a few moments more before pulling his mouth off entirely "Let go then." His voice gruff and demanding.

"What?" Ringo was certainly he hadn't heard correctly, he had to grip onto the sheets just to ground himself but it was only somewhat effective.

"Let go." George repeated, firmer this time, sucking Ringo's balls into his mouth.

"George, I'm not gonna fucking piss on you." Ringo stuttered, he was near his breaking point.

"What if I told you I wanted you to?" George smirked, his hand gently rubbing over Ringo's bladder.

"But it's-it's unsanitary and shit." Ringo was clenching his jaw, unable to keep his head up to look at the enamoured expression on George's face.

"Do it, Ringo." George commanded, pressing down hard on Ringo's bladder which brought forth a shriek from the shorter man.

"Fuck!" Ringo cried out, managing to hold back what was so desperate to leave his body "George, I-I-"

"Stop holding back." George bit down on the skin of Ringo's thigh, sinking his teeth in deep "Give it to me."

George pressed down once more, painfully hard but the pain soon melted away into pleasure as Ringo was finally relieved of the pressure. It was strange, incredibly strange, feeling piss streaming down onto the bedsheets, streaks wetting George's hair and face. George was moaning ecstatically, gripping his own erection and jerking himself off almost violently. Ringo feared it was never going to end, he'd been holding it in for so long, but eventually he faltered and the wetness of the bed became apparent to him very quickly. Before Ringo could even recover, George's mouth was already on him again, hungrily sucking the wet cock.

"Jesus Christ..." Ringo didn't have enough strength in him to shout, all the energy wiped out of his body "You're not seriously..." The words trailed away, Ringo hadn't even been sure of what he was about to say.

"What?" George asked innocently, licking up the length of Ringo while looking him directly in the eye.

"You're filthy." Ringo huffed out, a faint chuckle hidden in the words, barely able to keep his head up.

"I'm not the one covered in my own piss." George teased, shifting on the bed so that his own cock was pressed up against Ringo's.

George gripped around both of their erections with his slender fingers, rocking his hips slightly as moans began pouring from his lips. Ringo dug his fingers into George's slender hip, his vision blurring as he felt his orgasm approaching. The smell in the room was pure filth: sweat, spit and piss all mixing together in a strangely intoxicating aroma.

"I'm close, George, I'm close." Ringo rambled, bruising George's hip.

"Fuck, me too." George whined, his wrist and hip movements both becoming sloppy as he chased his orgasm.

Their breaths quickened, hard cocks rubbing against one another at a quickened pace, lubricated with spit and piss. It was entirely debauched, Ringo could hardly believe any of this had truly happened, but he didn't care, it felt too good to care.

"You wanna cum?" Ringo asked, wrapping his own hand on top of George's "You wanna cum for me, baby?"

George nodded, biting his lip desperately, unable to speak coherently.

"Fuck you're such a little slut, aren't you?" Ringo was surprising even himself with the harsh tone of his voice "Your face is covered in my piss, and you love it."

"I do, I do. I fucking love it." George growled, his breaths coming out quick and sharp "Let me cum, Ringo, please..."

"Mmm, wanna see you cum all over yourself. Make yourself dirty, George. Cum for me. Now."

George let out a strained whine as he finished, cum spurting onto his stomach and over his own and Ringo's cock. Ringo gripped their erections tighter together, roughly jerking them both until he reached his own orgasm. George was painfully sensitive, his hips bucking and unintelligible rambles spilling from his mouth. Ringo shouted out in pleasure, feeling entirely lightheaded as all his energy was depleted.

It took longer than usual for the two of them to recover, and as they began sobering from their lewd acts Ringo became uncomfortably aware of the wetness of the bed. George didn't seem to care, cuddling up to Ringo's chest as he tried to catch his breath. Silence filled the room for a while, neither of them feeling like there was anything that needed to be said. Eventually though, Ringo couldn't stand the smell, and he peeled himself off of the bed and made his way over to the shower. Before he made it to the door, George called out.

"Thank you." He said rather plainly, his eyes still shut.

"For what?" Ringo asked with a smile.

"Trusting me."

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I'll Love You Too III

Chapter: 3/?

Rating: U

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo hadn't been back to The Helter Skelter since he and George had started dating, much to the disappointment of John who had been begging constantly. However there cane a point where George began to grow suspicious, evidently he was worried that his relationship history was beginning to repeat itself. Not that he expressed any of these concerns to Ringo, instead he dropped passive aggressive hints and made vague comments which unfortunately reminded Ringo of the potential downsides to dating. Once the clues had been deciphered, Ringo vowed to return to the club the following night which seemed to please both John and George.

"You're not gonna get jealous are you?" George had asked while getting ready for his shift "Because if you are, just don't come."

Ringo certainly wasn't enjoying the harsher side of George but he understood the defensive tactic well "Of course not." He sat behind George who was doing his makeup in the mirror and wrapped his arms around his waist "What have I got to be jealous about?"

"I'm just saying..." George leaned in to the touch "You might think you won't get jealous, but when you see me rubbing my arse on some ugly bloke you might flip."

"George." Ringo said sternly "Stop worrying, please. I'll be just fine."

"Hmm, if you're sure." George sounded distracted as he coated his eyelashes in mascara.

Ringo had headed back home when George had left for work, he saw no use in hanging around the club so early in the evening. He caught up on some much needed sleep, his body was still rather exhausted. When night fell, John was excitedly knocking on Ringo's door. Awakening feeling groggy and disoriented Ringo shuffled over to open it. John burst in immediately, swinging the door so violently that Ringo had to jump backwards to avoid being hit.

"Jesus!" Ringo scolded "Could've taken my nose off."

"I'd be doing you a favour." John joked with a grin, collapsing onto Ringo's sofa "You got anything to drink?"

"Nice to see you too." Ringo scoffed, closing the door.

The two of them shared a few cold beers before heading out to the club, blasting the radio as they drove through the night. John was eager to see Paul, even though they'd spent the last few nights together, it was refreshing for Ringo to see his best friend so happy.

Ringo had forgotten how loud the music had been, the vibrations rattling in his ears as they made their way past the bouncer and into the warmth of the club. It was relatively packed, unsurprisingly for a Saturday night, but luckily their usual seats at the bar were free. John didn't even have to order a drink, as soon as he sat down he was being served without a word. Ringo supposed it would be an impressive sight if they weren't in a strip club, the thought passed his mind that John had paid the bartender prior just to make him look cool.

Ringo didn't recognise the dancer on stage, they had short platinum blonde hair and intricate tattoos dotted across their skin. Neither of them paid much attention, far more invested in their own conversation. Eventually they were shooed away from the bar to make room for other customers, so they sat at the back of the rows of chair and continued their nonsensical discussion as best they could.

"Ey up." John's tone changed as he nodded his head towards the stage "Someone's got their eye on you."

Ringo didn't register the words entirely at first, both his thoughts and visions gradually  blurring as he drank more and more. John nudged Ringo to direct his attention, the dancer was making their way through the throng of customers who were eagerly waving money in the air. Gradually they maneuverered over to Ringo and John, swinging their hips with their eyes glued to Ringo.

"Shit." Ringo breathed with a hint of a laugh.

He looked around the room to see if George was around, but there was no sign of him. As the dancer got closer and closer, Ringo figured there was nothing he could do but humour them and to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible. He could hardly complain, it was the guy's job after all. John seemed ready to burst into a fit of laughter upon witnessing Ringo's dilemma, his face scrunched up in an attempt to keep it in.

It was strange to compare the difference in emotion Ringo felt when being singled out by this new dancer versus how he'd previously felt with George; surprisingly the nerves were still present but were far more of a negative rather than actual excitement. Ringo leaned back in his chair a little in an attempt to gain some distance from the blonde dancer who had begun gyrating in front of him, but the gesture was mistaken for encouragement as he only intensified his lewd movements. John's laughter began pouring from his pursed lips, luckily the music masked the noise so that the dancer took no notice.

Ringo felt a hand on his shoulder, he assumed it was John trying to further his discomfort but then he heard shouting behind him and he knew something was up. Turning his head, Ringo saw an extremely pissed off looking George.

"You trying to be funny?" George was yelling, his hand possessively pressing down on Ringo's skin.

The other dancer seemed unfazed, passing George a momentary glance before reaching his hand forward to caress Ringo's cheek; at least that's where Ringo assumed he was aiming for it never reached it's destination. George gripped the dancer's wrist, the anger in his face melting away into a strange kind of satisfaction.

"Watch it." George spoke in a low voice, Ringo hardly even heard it.

By this point John was unable to restrain his emotions, his mouth agape in shock for a few moments before laughing again; George paid no attention to him, his dark eyes fixed solely on the blonde in front of him. He tried to shake George's hand off, it was causing quite the scene, but couldn't. After a few more moments of struggling, George released his grip and the dancer shuffled sheepishly away and attempted to finish their number with the little dignity they had left.

Ringo started laughing now, mostly because he was nervous, but was silenced when George ordered him to meet him outside. John gave Ringo a look which said 'good luck' with a mixture of both encouragement and worry.

In the cold air of the night Ringo felt himself sobering up a little, he hadn't fully registered the whole situation but it still felt pretty comical to him, though that may have just been the alcohol.

"You alright?" Ringo broke the silence, offering George a cigarette who snatched it.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." George mumbled as he lit it.

"One too many 'yeah's there, I think." Ringo chuckled.

George just looked at him, saying nothing. Ringo knitted his brows together in worry.

"Er- You gonna say anything?" Ringo shifted his weight between his feet awkwardly.

George said nothing for a few more moments then finally said "I'm sorry."

Ringo laughed again "Sorry? For what?"

"I..." George broke off his speech with a huff "That was out of line. On my part, I mean."

Ringo rolled his eyes and moved closer to George, interlacing their fingers together "Don't be daft, George. I get it."

"But- I just..." George sighed, Ringo had never seen him so internally frustrated, he tried to speak again but Ringo silenced him with a kiss.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me." Ringo said firmly, his hands cupping George's cheeks.

"I- Alright..." George huffed, closing his eyes in an attempt to dispel the frustration "I really hate that new prick."

Ringo laughed, breaking whatever tension was laugh "I can tell. What's his deal anyway?"

"Oh, I dunno." George flicked his cigarette away "Think he's jealous of me or something. Can you blame him?"

"Not at all." Ringo hummed happily, planting a short kiss on George's now cold lips.

Ringo could feel the tension leaving George's body: his shoulders lowering, his breath slowing. He wondered whether he'd ever be able to have a drama-free night at this place.

"You wanna go back in?" Ringo offered, rubbing his thumb on George's cheek before pulling the hand away entirely.

"Sure, sure." George still seemed a little distracted, Ringo knew he wasn't being told everything "Let me get you a drink."

"If you're offering." Ringo smiled, leading the way back into the humid club.

"Will you stay until I finish?" George asked, sounding almost shy "Please." He added after a moment.

"Of course." Ringo held the door open for George to walk through.

Inside George led them over to the bar where he ordered another round for both Ringo and John. He placed a brief kiss on Ringo's cheek then vanished into the crowds. Ringo let out a huff of air, managing to find John who had moved to the front of the stage and was hollering even louder than the music. It was no mystery as to why, Paul was currently onstage spinning around the pole in a way Ringo only assumed was incredibly difficult. He was wearing no shirt yet a multicoloured tie was hanging around his neck, his trousers a sheer black material with relatively high platform boots on his feet.

When John realised Ringo had returned, he offered him a cheesy grin which revealed how drunk he really was. His face lit up when Ringo offered him yet another drink, accepting it gladly and downing it almost instantly.

"Everything alright?" John yelled into Ringo's ear, his eyes not moving from Paul.

"Yeah." Ringo shouted back, it was all that needed to be said.

As soon as Paul had finished his number, he sought John out in the crowd instantly and the two disappeared giggling excitedly into one of the private room. This left Ringo alone to think and, more importantly, drink. He spotted the blonde dancer serving drinks later on but avoided eye contact as best he could.

George had been appearing and disappearing throughout the night but Ringo didn't really mind, it wouldn't be too long until the club was closing for the night. Ringo tucked himself away in a distant corner, finishing an array of drinks and scrolling through his phone aimlessly.

Eventually John resurfaced, dark bruises dotting the skin of his neck, with a very satisfied grin. He didn't hang around for too long, helping Ringo finish some of his drinks, before excitedly saying goodbye to head to Paul's for the night. It was a relief to Ringo, he no longer had to worry about getting him home safely.

George appeared only several minutes later, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat from exertion. Ringo smiled at him drunkenly, stumbling up from his seat and banging into the table which knocked a few empty glasses over.

"Ready to go?" Ringo asked "You're sober enough to drive, right? Because I am not."

"Sure thing." George pulled Ringo close to his body "I'm bloody knackered, let's just get to bed."

Ringo made a noise of agreement "Lemme just have a piss, then we'll go."

"You don't wanna go in there, trust me." George scoffed, nodding his head towards the toilet "It gets blocked every night, it's dead grotty."

Ringo curled his lip up in disgust "Really? I don't care, I'll just-"

George stopped Ringo from turning away "No, no, really, it's dreadful. I'll just get us home quick, alright?"

There was a strange tone to George's voice, at least Ringo thought so but his senses were considerably dulled from the alcohol. Ringo gave him a quizzical look but allowed himself to be pulled out of the club all the same, his stomach feeling a little sensitive as the car pulled out onto the road.

George was silent, his hands gripping the wheel tightly as he drove. Ringo wasn't quite sure what was awaiting him when they were fully alone back at George's place, but he knew it was something big.

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I'll Love You Too II

Chapter: 2/?

Rating: U

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The following clean-up from their nocturnal experiment was far from easy, the wax seemed to crumble into tiny pieces and was determined to cover each inch of the carpet. George was insistent on doing most of the work, a struggle of manners ensued in which Ringo was adamant that he should help but eventually gave in and took up George's offer to relax in the bath.

Soaking in the warm water, Ringo's mind began to wander to their first official date. It seemed like such a long time ago now, although it had only been a couple of months at the most. Ringo could vividly picture arriving at George's house for the first time and picking him up for dinner, bruises still dotted across George's pale skin from the somewhat embarrassing but retrospectively rather comical fall at the club. Ringo had struggled to figure out the best place to take George, unfortunately the only advice available was John's.

"He's a vegetarian." Ringo emphasised for the fourth time, John had once again offered up a meat-only establishment.

"Oh, well you could've told me sooner." John scoffed, sometimes Ringo couldn't tell whether he was joking or truly that oblivious.

"What about sushi? That can be veggie, right?" Ringo was fiddling with a bouquet of flowers that had been left on John's kitchen counter, a small card had the name 'Paul' written on it, punctuated with a kiss.

"Sure." John offered "You could always, and hear me out, ask where he wants to go."

Ringo rolled his eyes "Great advice John, thanks. What if he doesn't know either?"

"Then you're both helpless and you belong together."

In the end Ringo had settled on sushi, which only calmed his panic somewhat because he still had to find which sushi place was best. He'd forgotten all about how stressful dating could be, and it'd been a long time since he'd been a proper date. Eventually he settled on a fairly affordable place that wasn't too far from his house, he felt rather silly calling up to make a reservation an hour in advance but he didn't want to risk embarrassing himself by not having a table booked.

This struggle with the restaurant left Ringo only an hour to get himself looking presentable for the date, his closet was emptied onto the floor and bed as he rummaged around for something suitable. He felt like making more of an effort than usual, this was one date he didn't want to screw up, especially knowing how fashionable George was likely to look. In the end he settled on a paisley blazer, it had been a gift from John years ago and had hardly been worn, and a black shirt underneath which he experimented with the buttons of.

He left himself just enough time to brush his teeth, sort out his hair and tidy the room as quickly as he possibly could. Hurrying over to George's in the car, he'd almost forgotten to be nervous about the date itself. Almost forgotten, because as soon as he knocked on George's door Ringo felt a wave of dread washing over him. He hadn't even thought of any conversation starters, or what he was going to order at the restaurant. As he waited for an answer, the dread only festered further. Yet once the door finally opened, revealing George draped in a decorative kimono, all fear subsided.

"Hi." Ringo spoke, suddenly sheepish.

"Hey." George replied with a grin, stepping out onto the street and locking the door behind him.

The two of them looked at one another for a few moments, eyes tracing from head to feet with no words being said. George was wearing makeup: his eyes darkened with liner and mascara, his gaunt cheekbones sparkling with highlight and his lips painted a tempting shade of red. Ringo could see that he'd tried to use foundation to cover over the bruises on his face but it wasn't entirely successful, not that it mattered.

"You look great." Ringo managed to get out without stumbling over his words as they walked over to his car.

"Thanks, so do you." George responded but Ringo supposed he was only trying to be polite.

Passing a shop window, Ringo stole a glance at the reflection and found himself presently surprised at how good the two of them looked together. Ringo was even beginning to believe George's compliment, a surge of confidence arising merely from being stood next to George. He'd anticipated that George would only make him look worse, but there was something complimentary in how the two of them were dressed. It was a small boost that Ringo needed to quash his nerves, he was determined to not ruin the night just because he was feeling anxious.

"So... Where are we headed?" George asked, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Sushi." Ringo replied more curtly than intended "Is that alright?"

"I love sushi." George answered cheerily.

"What a relief." Ringo chuckled "I'm not gonna lie I was struggling to find a place to eat, with you being a vegetarian and all."

George paused for a moment "You remembered that?"

"Of course I did." Ringo panicked for a moment, afraid he'd said the wrong thing and given too much away but the smile that spread across George's painted lips calmed him back down.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the restaurant, it was rather busy but not so much that it would become uncomfortable. Ringo still couldn't believe his luck, that he'd actually been able to get a date with George. Looking back on how their relationship started, it was strange to consider that they'd end up here.

"Is your face alright?" Ringo asked when they'd been seated, it was hard to not notice the swelling on George's lip.

"Oh yeah, it's fine." George provided evidence with a genuine smile "I've had way worse, don't worry."

"You fall over a lot then?" Ringo joked, looking down at the menu and feeling a little intimidated by the amount of choice.

"Only when I know you're there to catch me." George winked "No, I've had my fair share of scraps here and there. That's just life, isn't it?"

Ringo chuckled "Not in my line of work, no."

"Don't be so modest, I haven't forgotten when you beat up that creep in the club." George was studying his menu with far less fear than Ringo "Any idea what you're gonna order?"

"Haven't the faintest." Ringo read the same words over and over again as though it'd help him understand "What about you?"

"Hmm, I think so." George answered with a confidence Ringo envied "Want some help?"

"Please." Ringo smiled sheepishly, laying down his menu and looking to George for assistance.

The date was hardly going as Ringo had anticipated, but while George went through dishes on the menu with a clear expertise Ringo couldn't stop himself from smiling. The intimidating Spike was describing in detail the difference between maki and temaki with such delicacy, it was such a strange moment of realisation for Ringo that made him truly understand how far they'd come. Ringo realised too late that he hadn't been listening to what George had been saying but it didn't matter in the end because George ordered for the both of them.

"So..." George began, drink in hand.

"So." Ringo repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"How long have you been waiting to take me out?" George asked with a knowing smile.

Ringo half expected this line of questioning to begin, he only wished he'd prepared some answers "Does it make a difference?"

"I'm just curious." George leaned in a little closer, a devilish look in his eyes.

Ringo sighed "Now I'm debating whether to lie so you don't think I'm a loser."

"I wouldn't bother with that, I already know you're a loser Ringo." George spoke deadpan, staring without expression then burst into laughter "I'm sorry, I had to."

"And that's meant to encourage me to be honest?" Ringo laughed nervously.

"Come on, tell me." George sounded almost whiny, a tone Ringo had heard before but never in regular conversation.

"Fine, fine." Ringo conceded after drinking his beer "In all honesty it was probably the first time I saw you... Not that I thought you'd ever say yes, of course."

The answer seemed to satisfy whatever itch George had "Really? I'm that good looking am I?"

"Not to sound cliché, but have you seen you? I don't think I've seen anyone more attractive." Ringo spoke somewhat seriously.

George blushed just slightly, having to look away from Ringo's intense gaze "You're sweet. But why were you even in the strip club in the first place? You didn't seem too at home, at least from what I remember."

Ringo felt rather complimented that George even remembered how he'd been acting all that time ago, he'd always supposed he hadn't left much of an impression at all and whatever he did was surely negative.

"John dragged me there. He, uh-" Ringo stopped himself before saying too much "Thought it'd cheer me up."

George squinted his eyes in suspicion "What aren't you telling me?"

Ringo paused, debating the best verbal exit strategy but the good beer and even better food was slowing his thought processes "Uh... Nothing?"

"Oh come on." George kicked Ringo lightly under the table "You think I'm gonna judge you?"

"Well, yes... But fine, I'll tell you." Ringo chuckled, pausing for an anticipatory breath "I'd been going through a bit of a... dry spell, so to speak."

A grin spread across George's face "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Ringo repeated, hiding his shame behind his beer.

"I find it hard to believe that you were having a 'dry spell'." George rested his hand on Ringo's own, his finger tracing around the metal of the rings.

"Well, I'd, er- I'd still be having one if you hadn't come along." Ringo stammered "Shit, that sounds really pathetic, doesn't it?"

"Just a tad." George smiled reassuringly "I'm just glad I could be of service."

"For a while you were making it worse, actually." Ringo had finished his beer and was itching for another "With all my pent up frustration and then I see you undressing on that stage, I nearly lost my mind."

George chuckled, looking rather proud of himself "I can only apologise for being so tempting." He emphasised the word by running his tongue over his top lip onto his sharp canine tooth.

"No need to apologise, it's your job after all." Ringo tried to remain composed "And in the end it all worked out so... No harm done."

"My aching body disagrees." George pouted his still somewhat swollen lip.

"Well... That was your own fault really." Ringo joked, finally catching the waiter's eye so that he could order another beer.

"You're right, you're right." George's hand was still pressed against Ringo's "Hopefully from here on out all the pain will be consensual."

Ringo blushed "Hopefully."

Later that night it was clear that there was no longer any need to be hopeful.

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I'll Love You Too I

Chapter: 1/?

Rating: E

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Smut

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

"Are you sure about this?" Ringo asked tentatively, running the strips of leather through his fingers gently.

George gave him a look which needed no further explanation, the severity of his gaze enough to silence Ringo's worries. It hadn't been too long ago that Ringo had fantasised about having George all to himself yet now that dream had become a reality, he was nervous. Nervous about what exactly, Ringo didn't know, but ever since George had decided to reveal his extensive sex toy collection Ringo had been dreading the day he'd actually be required to use any of them. It wasn't that he didn't want to use these array of objects on George - the images they conjured in his mind kept him up late on several occasions - but he worried he wouldn't know how to do it properly. George seemed far more experienced with kinks and toys and everything really.

"We can try something else if you like." George was lying on his bed in nothing but a silk - Ringo couldn't tell whether it was real or not - dressing gown that was a deep shade of blue.

"Like what?" Ringo put the whip he'd been holding down onto the bed gently as though it had a mind of its own then scooted around to peruse through George's box once more.

"How about..." George began, scooting down the bed to get a better view "Wax?"

It took Ringo a few moments before he spotted the candles tucked away in the corner, they were thick and red like ones you might see in a horror film. Candles didn't seem that intimidating, at least compared to some of the other contraptions in here. Ringo wasn't even sure what some of them were called, and he was far too embarrassed to ask in this moment.

"Have you ever done it before?" George asked, his voice soft and sultry.

Ringo shook his head and chuckled "How hard can it be? I mean... It's candles."

"Precisely my thinking." George smiled at Ringo, quieting any anxiety he had.

"So... Uh- how do you wanna do this?" Ringo asked feeling rather helpless, picking up two of the candles from the box and giving them a smell - cherry scented, he guessed.

"Well." George began, the excitement in his voice evident, getting up from the bed and crouching beside the box "We're gonna need these."

These referred to a pair of handcuffs and two pieces of ribbon-like material which were a dark maroon colour. Ringo couldn't help himself from staring at George's face as he concentrated, his dark brows knitting together with his expression serious. Even though they'd been dating for a month or two now, Ringo still couldn't believe his luck that he was able to tie down - no pun intended - someone as stunning as George. Light stubble was brushed along his sharp jaw, only accentuating the bone further, his hair was messy yet still enticing and the paleness of his skin was clear to see as the robe slipped over his skin freely.

"We could do a blindfold too, if you wanted." George lowered his voice in concentration "Maybe some... No, I'm getting carried away."

George laughed to himself and returned back to his full height, clutching the aforementioned items before chucking them onto the bed with little consideration. Then he rummaged through his bedside table for a lighter, there was always one in the bedroom due to the cigarettes they tended to smoke after sex. Successful in his search, George threw the lighter to Ringo without warning but he managed to catch it all the same. Ringo cursed himself for feeling so flustered, but it was difficult knowing what was to come. No matter how many times he slept with George, no matter what kind of depraved acts they got up to, he still felt as anxious as the very first time; that was just the effect George had on him.

"I'm gonna hop in the bath real quick, then we can start. Okay?" George threw off his robe casually, letting the fabric slide from his smooth skin into a pile on the floor.

"Sounds like a plan." Ringo nodded, finally putting the candles down beside the bed.

Ringo watched George with hungry eyes as he sauntered off into the bathroom, the way he swung his hips made it clear to Ringo that he knew he was being looked at. The door shut with a gentle thud, leaving Ringo alone to gather his thoughts and prepare for what was to come.

"Comfortable?" Ringo asked after clicking the handcuffs together, pulling George's slim wrists to the top of the bed.

George nodded with a small smile, wiggling his limbs to test the strength of the restraints then nodded again. This was a small moment of intimacy that occurred every time they ventured into kinky territory, the calm before the storm in many ways. Ringo smiled back then flicked the lights off, leaving nothing but a lamp in the corner to light the suppleness of George's body. Ringo's nerves seemed to dissipate in the relative darkness, his breath steadying as he moved back over to the bed. First, he captured George's soft lips in a gentle kiss that quickly grew heated. George wasn't the most patient when it came to the bedroom, his teeth already pulling at Ringo's bottom lip. It took a great deal of strength for Ringo to pull away, fighting the temptation to forget all about the candles and to start spreading George open.

The candles had already been lit, sitting on the bedside table flickering slightly, and it was now that Ringo made his way over to pick one of them up. The sweet smell of cherry wafted around the room, something usually so innocent now suddenly turned erotic. The look in George's eyes was hungry, his hands were already fiddling with the handcuffs as best they could from the awkward angle, watching Ringo experimentally tilt the candle sideways so that the wax began to drip down. First it fell onto the bed, Ringo didn't want to try it directly onto George's skin at first. How much was this going to hurt? Ringo supposed he didn't really have to know, George knew and more importantly wanted desperately to feel the sensation.

"Come on..." George whined, rattling his handcuffs against the metal bedframe in protest.

Ringo moved his hand further, hovering the candle over George's hairless stomach before tilting it once more. The wax dripped down instantly, burning the soft skin for a moment before solidifying; its rich red colour made it appear almost like blood, a sight which no doubt spurred further depraved fantasies in George's mind.

"More." George demanded, his pupils dilated both from the darkness and his exponentially growing lust "And take your fucking clothes off."

Ringo gulped, unsure as to which command he was meant to follow first. It was difficult to think with this enticing display laid out before him: George's cock was beginning to harden and it made Ringo's mouth water. He decided to carry on with the candle for a few more moments, teasingly tilting the candle back and forth so that the wax never fell when George was expecting it. Ringo slowly began making a pattern which gradually grew closer to George's erection, each drop pulling a sharp hiss from his lips.

"Clothes." George repeated impatiently, it was moments like this that reminded Ringo why he'd been so intimidated by George when they'd first crossed paths.

Ringo didn't wait to be told a third time, even though George was helpless to administer any punishment even if he'd wanted to, undoing his trousers and shirt sloppily and tossing them behind him. He hadn't realised how hard he'd become until his erection sprang free from his boxers, evidently George wasn't the only one enjoying this little experiment. Candle back in hand, Ringo carefully shifted himself onto the bed to straddle George's thighs - careful to ensure they were never close enough for their cocks to brush together, that'd be making things too easy - before he tilted the candle once more. This time Ringo aimed for George's nipples which were hard with the coldness of the room, only missing by an inch or two. The second attempt was successful, landing directly onto the target, leading George to groan breathlessly.

"Feel good?" Ringo asked with a raised eyebrow, his free hand rubbing over the clean nipple.

George nodded "Stop holding back. I can take it."

Ringo smirked, jerking his wrist swiftly to administer another hot drop of wax onto his nipples "You wanna tell me where you want it, baby?"

George growled in response, a noise Ringo only heard every so often "My cock." The word sounding so filthy in George's rough tone, his tongue playing with his sharp teeth.

"You sure?" Ringo asked after a pause, his nervousness returning only slightly.

"Yes, I'm sure." George whined, thrusting his hips upwards as best he could to demonstrate his desperation "Now, do it."

Ringo couldn't deny that George's bossiness was a complete turn on, although he'd never let George know exactly how much of a turn on it truly was. He tried his best to silence the anxious thoughts plaguing his mind. Before committing to George's demand, Ringo wrapped his fingers gently around George's erection which earned him a few soft pants. Now or never, Ringo told himself before tilting the thick candle once more and letting the wax fall onto the hard cock gripped in his hand.

The noise that left George's mouth was something Ringo had never heard before, a mixture between a gasp and a deep moan, though it was certainly one he wanted to hear again (and again, and again...) It was difficult to not admire the strange beauty of the wax trickling down George's erection, which was now rock hard.

"Fuck..." Ringo couldn't keep the words from spilling from his lips, only waiting a moment or two before spilling more hot wax onto the reddening skin.

George let out a grunt, sounding far more in pain than he had previously, and for a moment Ringo worried he'd taken it too far but the look on his face was of pure ecstasy.

"More." George moaned, his wrists struggling in the constraints.

"Now, now." Ringo teased, a sly grin on his lips "There's a nicer way of asking that."

The look George gave Ringo made him very appreciative of the restraints for without them, George might've slapped him. He knew George's aggression wasn't genuine, it was just sexual frustration, but that didn't make it any less terrifying. A few moments passed in which the two of them just looked at each other, George's mouth tight with anger as he waited for Ringo to give up this act and carry on following his orders, but the time never came. Ringo only raised his eyebrows further, tilting the candle just so that it never dropped any wax.

"I'm waiting." Ringo spoke with a lilt, his grin widening.

George rolled his eyes and scoffed, looking like a disgruntled child "Please give me more, Ringo..."

"More of... what?" Ringo pushed his luck, he decided he may as well make use of George being helpless like this for as long as he could.

George's stare was deadly but it melted away when Ringo gave his cock a few loose jerks "Please pour that hot wax on my cock, please. I've been good, haven't I?"

Ringo found it difficult to refuse George whenever he opted for the mock-innocent route, so he decided to stop the teasing and snapped his wrist suddenly which led to three separate droplets of wax falling onto the sensitive skin of George's cock. George practically shrieked, his body jerking upwards but failing to move more than a few inches off the bed.

"Fuuuuck." George breathed, his eyes struggling to focus "Do that again."

For a moment Ringo debated teasing George further, but his own erection was growing uncomfortably hard and he wouldn't be able to ignore it for much longer. In a quick motion Ringo grabbed the second candle, unleashing a shower of wax down onto George. The noises were pained yet still erotic, Ringo couldn't help moaning himself as he watched the pain and pleasure washing over George's face. When George and Ringo's eyes finally met once more, Ringo could tell that George's vision was a little fuzzy.

"Can you use wax as lube?" Ringo asked, his mouth opening before he'd even considered what he was saying.

George's hazy eyes lit up "We can try."

Only now did Ringo realise the commitment he was making with that question, although it would have been foolish to pretend the idea didn't excite him thoroughly. It wasn't the smoothest transition but Ringo managed to undo the restraints on George's legs and get him into a position where the wax could drop directly onto his entrance.

"Are you sure?" Ringo asked cautiously, his free hand running circles up and down George's thigh to soothe him.

"Do it." George ordered once more, biting down on his lip.

Ringo shut off the barrage of voices telling him to stop, that this was taking things too far, and let his wrist flop down. George was incapable of making a sound, his mouth agape with only sharp breaths pouring out. However much it hurt, Ringo was certain he didn't want to know, but it was clear that George approved of whatever it was he was experiencing.

"Jesus." George panted "Feels so fucking good."

"Oh yeah?" Ringo asked, letting another two drops fall onto his hole "Tell me."

"Fuck!" George yelped, his wrists rattling in the handcuffs "Hurts so much... Don't stop."

Ringo tried to ignore the potential contradiction, pressing his finger roughly inside before spilling more wax from above; a drop fell onto Ringo's finger and stung for a moment or two before the pain subsided. George was falling apart before him, sweat dripping from his forehead and sticking his dark hair onto the skin in strands.

"I don't need your fingers." George squirmed "I want your cock, Ringo. Now."

"It's not-" Ringo began but George silenced him with a glare "Alright."

Ringo shifted himself on his knees, pumping his finger a few more times before pulling it out entirely. It didn't take too long for Ringo to learn the telling signs of when George was getting close: his toes would start curling, he'd bite his lip just hard enough to draw a drop or two of blood and his eyes would grow so dark, the pupil engulfing the iris completely.

Even Ringo was getting too frustrated to be overtly considerate, letting the wax fall liberally down onto George's arse, coating his cock and his entrance as a cacophony of moans and shrieks filled the room. It was getting to a point that Ringo was concerned that George might break the handcuffs completely, the skin on his wrists clearly irritated.

"Ringo..." George cooed, it was impossible for Ringo not to be enticed by his own name being said so sweetly "I want you inside me."

No further words were needed, Ringo spit into his hand and lathered up his cock before lining up with George's entrance, now covered with red wax. Fortunately it hadn't solidified completely and Ringo was able to fashion a makeshift lube out of the soft wax and his own spit, it wasn't his most dignified moment but in the heat of the moment all he needed was to feel his cock stretching George out. As the head pushed past the tight ring of muscle George began clawing at the bedframe, sweat dripping from his skin as he moaned at the sensation.

"I swear you get fucking bigger every time." George breathed, his hand gripping the metal frame to expel some tension.

"I'm not getting bigger, you're getting tighter." Ringo groaned, thrusting himself in deeper as the smell of cherries wafted into his nose.

It was difficult to move at first, the lube was hardly effective and without any preparation it was a struggle. More spit was needed and eventually more wax, Ringo was as careful as he could manage to not drop any onto his own cock but it was only possible to a certain extent; the further they went the more he found himself enjoying the burning sensation although he was certain he wouldn't be able to endure as much as George had.

"Not complaining are you?" George cocked an eyebrow and pulling Ringo closer towards him with his legs.

Ringo moaned gruffly "You know I'm not."

"Fuck me harder, then." George began writhing again, desperate for his own cock to be touched.

It was a complete sensory overload: the cherry scent so strong now that Ringo's head was swimming, the wax occasionally catching on his skin which would cause him to suddenly thrust forward into George who was so tight that Ringo wanted to scream. George was practically wailing at this point, his lip smeared with red as he tried to keep his eyes locked on Ringo's as he fucked him deeper.

"I feel like I'm gonna pass out." Ringo admitted, the fuzziness of his mind slurring his speech just slightly.

George looked concerned for a moment, it wasn't often that his sultry persona was shaken but it was difficult to hide; Ringo reassured him with a weak smile, gripping onto George's thigh and quickening his thrusts. He was getting close, George seemed to have been on the edge of orgasm for an impossible amount of time.

"I'm close, I'm close." Ringo repeated, cascading more wax down onto the few areas of George's chest that were still bare before blowing out the candle entirely and chucking it onto the bedside table as accurately as he could manage.

"Touch me." George pleaded, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Ringo wrapped his hand once more around George's coated cock, the wax had started to crumble and create a mess all over the bed but neither of them paid any attention. The intensity of his incoming orgasm almost scared Ringo, he'd never felt anything like it before. George hadn't stopped babbling, whether he was whining for release or muttering incoherent yet clearly filthy things.

"Need your fucking cum." George managed to speak with some clarity "Fuck! Give it to me, give it to me... I want your cum."

Ringo gripped George's leg tighter for some stability, expelling his final burst of energy as he fucked into him roughly and sloppily. Both were groaning, dripping with sweat and wax and desperation. If Ringo had known this experience would be this enjoyable, he would've suggested it sooner.

"Shit, shit." Ringo panted "I'm close."

"Mmmm." George whined, his voice nearly wrecked "Come on, baby, give it to me. I wanna feel your hot cum deep inside me. Please, please, please, make me dirty. I wanna be dirty for you."

"Fuuuucking hell." Ringo's hips stuttered as he chased his orgasm, his eyes shut tight as the ever-familiar sensation began deep in his stomach "You're unbelievable, George."

Then he was coming, the orgasm striking Ringo with such an intensity that he released a noise he didn't even know he was capable of making. With these final shreds of energy Ringo desperately jerked George's cock until he was finishing too, shooting cum all over his wax-covered skin. The climax hit like a huge wave, crashing into the both of them as utter ecstasy washed over their sweaty bodies. It took several moments for the both of them to recover, Ringo hadn't even pulled out while they tried to catch their breath.

When Ringo finally felt capable of opening his eyes and returning to reality, George was looking directly at him with a smug expression.

"What?" Ringo asked, sitting down onto the bed and brushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

"Nothing." George replied innocently "I just can't believe you did all that."

"Is it really that surprising?" Ringo leaned over to finally release George's aching wrists from the handcuffs.

"Maybe not." George let his arms flop onto the bed "But if you'll do this, maybe there's some more shit in that box we can try."

"I'm gonna need at least 3-5 working days to recover from this." Ringo huffed, lying himself down beside George "Then we can talk."

[mithranqueersmusings]

in the mood to write the filthiest starrison fic imaginable.....

[mithranqueersmusings]

I’ll Be Safe in These Arms

pairing: george/ringo

rating: t

summary: George teaches Ringo how to play the guitar. They learn something else, too.

read here

[mithranqueersmusings]

Starrison Week 2 Themes!

From Monday, 23 August to Sunday, 29 August, the themes for this year's fanworks are as below! Feel free to choose either one or both!

Day 1. Summer / Autumn

Day 2. Singing / Composing

Day 3. Birthday / Concert

Day 4. Photoshoot / Movies

Day 5. AU / Fix-it

Day 6. Tour / Liverpool

Day 7. Free Day

You can choose to post your work on Tumblr tagged with #starrisonweek, upload it to the Starrison Week collection on AO3, or simply submit it to this blog. Happy creating, and to the toppermost we go!

[mithranqueersmusings]

(let’s get this over with)

You Talk Pretty Proud 3/3

pairing: george harrison/ringo starr (background mclennon)

summary: Pete’s down for the count, and the Beatles need a stand-in. Ringo’s free for the show... and afterwards as well.

warnings: smut, drug use

read here

[mithranqueersmusings]

Starrison Week 2021!

We're thrilled to announce the second annual Starrison Week! This year's event will take place from August 23-29, and it will have a brand new set of themes! All artists and fic writers of the fandom are welcome to participate.

Keep your eyes on this blog and #starrisonweek for the themes announcement next week. As always, feel free to send questions here or to @celeste-fitzgerald and @rufusrant. Let's spread the Starrison peace and love!

[mithranqueersmusings]

Beatles Rarepair Week Masterlist

Beatles Rarepair Week 2021 is officially over! Thank you so much to everyone who participated in the event. Even though the event is officially over, you can still post any unfinished works for the week as soon as you finish them up.

In case you missed any of the wonderful creations you all made, here are all the works posted throughout the week. If there are any late posts, I'll update the list with new additions!

Throughout the week, we wrote for 20 different pairings, which is so cool omg. And a few of them were the first fics for the pairing on AO3 ever, which is even cooler!!

Sorted by pairing, rating in parentheses. Like on AO3, "/" indicates a romantic relationship and "&" is platonic.

Astrid Kirchherr/Cynthia Lennon:

She's Gonna Change Her Mind by @icexcubex (unrated)

Barbara Bach/Ringo Starr:

Forever and Always by @celeste-fitzgerald (G)

Billy Preston/George Harrison:

Help Reveal My Heart by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (T)

Brian Epstein/John Lennon:

Certainty is Mine by @cinnamontoastandtears (E)

I'm Happy That You're Here With Me, I'm Sorry If I Tear Up by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (T)

Something, Stronger by @measuredoutinyears (G)

Brian Epstein & Ringo Starr:

I'm Not Your Hero by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (T)

George Harrison & Jimmie Nicol:

I Should Have Stayed In Bed by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (G)

George Harrison/John Lennon:

Circles by @measuredoutinyears (E)

Jealous Guy by anonymous (G)

Sing To the Moon, And the Stars Will Shine by Goldstein_1984 (T)

Something So Good by @cinnamontoastandtears (M)

George Harrison/Klaus Voormann:

Melody Softly Soaring by @cinnamontoastandtears (T)

George Harrison/Mal Evans:

You and Me (Babe) by @celeste-fitzgerald (T)

George Harrison/Pattie Boyd:

Something in the way she moves by @celeste-fitzgerald (E)

George Harrison/Paul McCartney:

a lover's complaint by anonymous (G)

Bad News On the Doorstep by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (T)

Don't Let Me Down by @mothernatures-sons (G)

The Time Paul and George Almost Talked About Feelings (But Didn't Because???) by @george-actual-harrison (T)

You Are Out of Sight by @cinnamontoastandtears (M)

Your New Boyfriend by @measuredoutinyears (T)

George Harrison & Peter Harrison:

Don't Ask Questions, You Don't Wanna Know by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (T)

John Lennon/Ringo Starr:

I Think I'll Have Your Company by @cinnamontoastandtears (M)

(Missing) Walls and Bridges by @george-actual-harrison (M)

John Lennon/Stuart Sutcliffe:

Only So Many Hours In a Day by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (T)

Linda McCartney/Paul McCartney:

I'll Take You Far Away by @jeremyhillaryboob-phd (G)

Maureen Cox/Pattie Boyd:

They Never Will Have You by @cinnamontoastandtears (T)

Olivia Arias & Paul McCartney:

Understanding by @celeste-fitzgerald (T)

Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr:

Everything fades when you don't smile by @dusted-0negin (M)

It's the Thought That Counts by @celeste-fitzgerald (T)

You Are the Morning When It's Clear by @cinnamontoastandtears (T)

Paul McCartney & Stuart Sutcliffe:

Just an envelope away by @dusted-0negin (M)

Ringo Starr & Rory Storm:

Wake Up by @celeste-fitzgerald (T)

[mithranqueersmusings]

Your New Boyfriend (OS)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: George Harrison/Paul McCartney Summary: George likes Paul, but since Paul met John he has spent less and less time with George. George decides to put an end to his endless pining by confronting Paul about it.

[mithranqueersmusings]

You Are Out of Sight

pairing: george harrison/paul mccartney

rating: m

summary: Technically, they already know they like each other. It’s just that Paul is insecure, so Ringo tries to help him out a bit. John helps too, but in a less “helpful” way.

warnings: language, drunkenness

read here

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Need My Love to Be Here

pairing: john lennon/paul mccartney

summary: Paul tries to escape his woes at John's house, but John's still sleeping. That doesn't stop Paul from trying to find peace another way. (or, another story about Here, There, and Everywhere)

warnings: mild recreational drug use

read here