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iheartjohnlennon · 3 months ago

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The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - Ringo

@heiterhund >> #1 writer & Ringo Starr lover/expert.

A is for Aftercare (How he treats you after sex, what happens after sex, etc...)

• You can count on him cleaning you up after.

• A gentle wash cloth rubs up your leg, cleans your stomach, and gently wipes down your sore cunt. After doing all the cleaning, he tends to pepper your face in kisses and praises you for how well you did and how lucky he is to love and have you.

• If the sex was particularly rough, he will hold you to him until you get so sweaty you have to push him off! He can't help it, you're his girl, he wants you to feel loved!

• He is known for his quick jokes and smartass quips, so expect some of that thrown in during the aftermath of sex.

“Looks like you’ve just seen a ghost, love! I didn’t fuck you that hard, did I?”

B is for Body part (His favourite body part of yours)

• Ringo is an ass man.

• He loves your ass, he can’t keep his hands off of it. Grabbing, smacking, spreading - whatever.

• He'll smack it and grab it randomly, you'll giggle and tell him to stop.

• Usually if you both are alone, and you’re laying over his lap as you lounge - he’ll play a silly, little beat on it.

• He also loves the way it looks when you’re wearing one of his shirts and nothing else to lounge in.

“Y’know, I think your arse makes better beats than my drums do.” He mused, slapping your butt with two fingers, before going back to playing the beat to one of the many songs stuck in his head.

C is for Cum (Everything to do with cum!)

• Ringo loves a good cream pie.

• He loves to feel the warmth of your cunt flutter around his length as he spills his seed deep into you.

• He sometimes massages your lower stomach with his thumbs as he pumps you full of cum, usually comes off as sweet - but it’s more possessive in his mind, he owns you and your womb. You’re being held in place while he takes what’s his.

• After he cums in you, he loves watching it drip out of you.

“Say, birdie, do you usually take it like some filthy whore?” He was between your legs, watching as the pearly liquid oozed slowly out of your used hole.

His thumb and forefinger spreading open your folds, nose brushing against your flushed labia as his tongue poked out to lap up his seed.

D is for Dirty secret (Something utterly filthy that he did and/or does/and or wants to do behind your back.)

• He used to sniff your panties. Before you two were together and were only friends.

• He took you home when you got drunk. You insisted you were perfectly capable of getting to your bed.

• Your pubes looked nice, he liked that. But it was highly inappropriate for him to gawk and drool over his drunk friend.

• And yeah, he still does when you’re gone or asleep. When he’s away, he usually pockets a pair and jerks himself off with them after he sniffs them.

• Filthy, filthy man.

“Nuh uh, Richie, I-I can…can do it! Seeee?”

You stumbled up the stairs, knees knocked together as you nearly toppled over each step.

“Love, you’re about to fall. Let’s get inside, yeah?” He sighed, ushering you into your room.

“If I was soooo drunk, could I do this?”

And before he had time to get you to lay down, you were taking your clothes off. And there you were, lounging on your bed naked.

“Oi! Hey! Get your clothes back on!”

He turned around, hands covering his eyes as he tried to lose the boner he was sporting.

He eventually got you tucked in, you only agreed to sleep if he stayed until you slept. and so he did.

You were knocked out cold, and he went to clean up the mess that you made before you rested.

All that was left was your cute panties.

They were frilly and dawned with a cute bow at the top. He didn’t want to grab them, not with his hands. But he had already put all your clothes away in the hamper.

He eyed them for a moment, before his baby blues locked onto a slick spot in the middle of your knickers.

He sniffed them.

E is for Experience (How experienced is he?)

• Ringo was sick most of his young life, and never properly lost his virginity until he met his first girlfriend when he was in his 20s.

• The most he did before was kissing and fumbled touching, perhaps a bit of fingering. He’s always been good with his hands.

• Now, with that being said, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to fuck.

F is for Favourite position (How he loves to fuck you.)

• Ringo is a romantic guy. He adores missionary.

• Sure it’s a bit boring to some, a classic, but he can see your tits bounce each time he rams himself into you.

• He can also see your lips quiver as you try not to moan, your eyes rolling and your lashes fluttering as you whine and cry.

• It's also his preferred position because he can see the outline of his dick poking in and out of you - filling you up balls deep.

• He thinks you look like a beautiful angel splayed out beneath him. His beautiful angel.

• 10/10 position.

• He also likes doggystyle, but that’s usually reserved for his days when he needs to relieve stress. Or when he simply wants to fuck the shit out of you.

G is for Goofy (How silly is he during sex?)

• Ringo tends to crack jokes at the worst times. His humour is just like that, so he will totally be joking during sex.

• Your cunt made a slick sound that sounded funny…you bet he already has a comment to make about it, something silly.

• When he eats you out, he does the little head shake his bandmates are known for. And after he’s done, he looks up at you with a dopey grin.

“She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Followed by the head shake.

• After being a bit goofy, he'll go right back to being serious…and serious means making you orgasm.

G is also for Goal (What's his goal and/or dream in relation to sex.)

• His goal is to make you walk with a limp, his goal is to fuck you way past orgasm.

• With how big his dick is (8 inches!!!), he definitely leaves you sore. But oh no, that’s not good enough, not at all.

• He wants you limping and waddling the next days, hell, if you’re not whining that you’re sore in the morning he’ll pin you down and fuck you until you do.

• He absolutely adores over stimulating you with his cock - until your eyes roll into the back of your head, until you can't breathe, until the sheets are drenched with bodily fluids.

H is for Hair (How well groomed he is, does the carpet match the drapes, etc..)

• He barely has leg hair, let alone chest hair. so his pubes are well kept.

• They’re not curly and unruly, they’re straight and aren’t too long.

• Also, don’t worry if you have pubic hair. Ringo doesn’t mind.

“Well, I don’t mind…y’know, I always fancied having a moustache!”

I is for Intimacy (How romantic he is during sex, etc..)

• He is a hopeless romantic. He wants it soft and slow, and usually that’s how it goes.

• He never calls it fucking. It's always referred to as ‘making love.’

• His hands are always on your body, whether that be holding your hands above your head while he rocks into you - or his hands being placed on your hips as he thrusts.

• Will play some old vinyls of his during it, too. Usually some old Elvis records. The music really compliments it all. He'll sing the lyrics to you - whisper it in your ear as he does. a bit cheesy, but it makes you both smile.

• He won’t cum unless you guys are kissing, or unless he's looking you dead in your eyes - or both…

J is for Jack off (Masturbation headcanon.)

• He barely masturbates. Will only do it as a last resort of sorts.

• He spent his teenage years jerking off, so it’s just not as stimulating anymore. It's almost boring.

• But if you guys are away from each other for too long, he’ll call you up on the phone and do it. Not really phone sex, but just hearing your voice will soothe his ache for you.

K is for Kink (One or more of their kinks in relation to you.)

• Ringo has a humiliation kink. He loves embarrassing you. Even if it’s something as little as making you beg for more.

• But most of the time it’s him making you masturbate in front of him and letting him watch. He loves to see your flushed face look to the side, as you bite your lip and nervously touch yourself.

• He has some weird pet play kink too, but not in the way you think. He’s not into collars or cages, none of that. He just loves calling you his pet. Depending on the partner, they’re either called his puppy or his kitten. He loves treating and spoiling you like some fancy poodle.

L is for Location (Favourite place to do the deed.)

• Prefers the bedroom. He gets embarrassed doing it anywhere else.

• You once tried doing it in the back of the car during a long ride to the hotel, and he kept getting nervous and mumbling about how the press would go absolutely wild if they saw.

• Of course he’s fine with doing it with you anywhere where there are four walls and a door. So, a broom closet would work as well. But his favourite has to be the bed, any bed.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on about you, gets him hard, makes him cum, etc..)

• Your hands. Your hands get him going.

• They’re so soft and small compared to his dry and calloused hands. He loves how smooth they feel against his skin, and how they radiate such warmth.

• If you brush his hands with yours and give him a look full of love, he’s ready to pounce.

• Your smile also gets him going. You’re just so beautiful that he can’t help but feel lucky - and feeling lucky gets him going.

• Honestly, the easy answer could've been you.

N is for No (Turn offs, what pisses him off, etc..)

• If you make a remark about his nose.

• He knows everyone does, but it hurts coming more from you. If you make a joke involving it - he will not even think about touching you until he does.

• He’s an insecure guy…

O is for Oral sex (Does he prefer giving or receiving? How does he give, how does he receive?)

• Ringo loves eating your pussy.

• He loves slotting his tongue against your core and licking up in harsh stripes. Also enjoys biting your clit once or twice, just to keep you on your toes.

• He doesn't favour oral sex on him too much. He got a lot during his prime, and it was boring to him. But that doesn’t mean he won’t enjoy it every now and then.

• He’s big, he knows his dick isn’t fitting in your mouth comfortably.

• You wouldn't be able to deep throat him without literally choking. He wants to go balls deep into your mouth, but he knows you wouldn't be able to handle it. You always swallow him a little less than half way.

• When you suck him off, it's nicely dragged out. You trail your tongue up and down his shaft, you suck his tip, massage his balls.

P is for Pace (Fast or slow? Rough or sensual? Ect.)

• Ringo is usually a slow lover - at the start at least. His thrusts are gentle and soft starting out, they only get rougher the longer you fuck and the closer he is to cumming.

• The clapping noises fill the room.

• He likes it to feel romantic and full of love. Like stated before, his rough and fast pace are reserved for his stressed days - which is almost everyday.

Q is for Quickie (His opinion on quickies, how often they happen, etc..)

• He doesn’t like quickies. Nuh uh.

• He wants you all to himself with all the time in the world, with all the space in the world.

• Buuut, if you are desperate enough, he’ll cave in and fuck you.

R is for Risk (What kind of risks will they take.)

• The most he’s willing to do is fucking you in a shared hotel room with either John, George, or Paul.

• He still is hesitant to do it, but he’d rather fuck you around people he knows as opposed to any prying eyes and ears he doesn’t.

• You're both probably a bit drunk as well.

His hand was covering your mouth, as your knees dug into the bed below you both.

George was asleep in the other bed, not too far from yours. His face was turned the other way, he seemed to be snoozing - you hoped he was.

That made Ringo feel a bit better about fucking you in the same room as him.

Your eyes were shut tightly as he slowly slotted himself into you, a finger pulling your panties to the side.

He began his light thrusts, desperately trying to avoid the creak of bed springs as he did so.

“Mmph!” You softly moaned against his hand.

You were unable to shake off the feeling of his cock stroking your walls. It was an instant pleasure, his tip rubbed against your g spot nicely and consistently.

“Fuck…” You breathed, feeling it clenching around him.

He tightened his hand against your mouth and leaned into your ear. “Keep it quiet, birdie, Hazza might wake, you don't want that do you?”

Ringo sped up a bit, your wetness started sounding as he did so. His free arm pulled your hips up so you could better meet his thrusts.

“Do you? Do you want George to hear you getting fucked?” He asked again, wanting an answer.

He slowed down, going from tip to balls at a moderate pace.

“N- no.” You whispered back, strained.

You fucked him back, he'd only thrust back harder - the soft, clapping noises ensued.

Your toes curled, Ringo continued his forward movement.

It got louder and louder with each thrust, now it sounded like you were both full on fucking.

“Baby…” You mockingly warned, mindful of the younger man not too far from you. Though it sounded more like you were just moaning.

“Mmhm…shh…shh…I'll make you cum, don't worry.” He groaned, sounding cocky.

Shit.

Did George just cough?

S is for Stamina (How many rounds he can last, how quickly can they cum, etc..)

• It feels like an Olympic sport keeping up with him. He lasts way longer than you, by the end of most of your sessions you're breathless, sweaty, dazed, confused.

• He can do two rounds, at least.

• He lasts around 20-50 minutes each round.

• But his foreplay can go on for hours if he’s in the mood and has the time for it.

• He cums around two times. Usually once in the first round (between the 15-25 minute mark. Then the second time he cums is around the 45 minute mark.) As for the second round? That's usually when you’re about to orgasm.

• He’s a generous guy, really.

• He rarely ever cums quickly. That's just impossible for him. This is why he hates quickies, he always leaves rock hard.

T is for Toys (Does he own toys, use them, what kind of toys, etc?)

• Oh, he owns toys.

• He has a cock ring that he bought personally, it helps keep him harder, like rock hard. He loves the ache of being hard, he loves his stiffness. The ring makes his cock all red and veiny, and makes his balls heavy. And it's all for you (and your holes).

• He also has encouraged you to buy some for yourself. He doesn’t think it makes him less of a man - even a dildo bigger than him. Whatever makes you feel good, makes him feel good.

• He’s once tried your vibrator. He was curious…it didn’t feel too good against his dick so he never spoke of it.

• He likes using your toys on you. Fucking you with your own dildo, using your vibrator on you as he fucks you.

You were out shopping with him, your arm linked tightly around his.

You stumbled upon a small, curious shop on the high street. He seemed to know exactly what it was because he didn't even let you think before he dragged you into it!

You looked around, realising, the innocent looking shop was a filthy one, a haven for pleasure.

“Buy something.” Ringo said, taking your hand.

“What?”

You laughed, almost stunned.

“We aren't leaving this shop till you buy something for yourself, sweetheart.”

“Something? Like what...” you teased.

U is for Unfair (How much does he like to tease you, how does he tease you, etc..)

• He’s super fair. He hates teasing you.

• If you’re not having fun, he’s not having fun.

• He teases in some kind of way, but it’s never for long or never torturous… it’s usually a quick touch, or a sly remark. He falters as soon as you give him that look that says stop.

• So he’s a bit whipped in that sense, definitely.

V is for Volume (How loud is he, what noises does he make, what does he say, etc..)

• He’s not too noisy, but he groans and huffs, like a bear almost.

• He does those long, deep sighs when he finally gets himself settled in your walls. You feel so warm and snug around his length, he can’t help but let out a sound.

• But it’s never loud enough for anyone but you two to hear unless they're in the room or something.

• Grunting and praising you through it all.

• “Such a pretty girl, taking me so well.”

W is for Wildcard (Random sexual headcanon.)

• He's really into humping just as much as he is into being inside of you. He likes the sloppy pace and how desperate it is.

• He once had you sat in his lap, and you both got handsy. It ended up with you grinding yourself against his thigh and his stiff cock like a dog in heat. He'd bounce you up and down, practically fucking you with his clothes still on.

• He was into it. Definitely into it. Definitely creamed his pants.

X is for X-ray (His cock.)

• Let's be straightforward here. 8 inches, thick, uncut.

• Yeah, he is very hung.

• It definitely slaps his stomach when he pulls it out.

• It’s awfully obvious when he has an erection too. Even when he's flaccid his bulge is still obvious.

• Ringo Starr is not a grower, it’s usually 5-6 when soft.

I want it in me so bad

Y is for Yearning (His sex drive, how much do they want you?)

• His sex drive isn’t too high, but if you’re not by his side when he’s asleep he finds himself missing you.

• He tries to have sex with you three days a week, he doesn’t think sex is a need. He’s more into soft intimacy and gifts.

• But this doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you. He just loves you too much to not only crave you sexually.

• He craves you in a way a man craves water. It’s a necessity to have you, whether that be sexually or not.

Z is for Zzz (Sleep afterwards?)

• After sex and cleaning you up, he wants to rest with you. Not in a sleepy way. He just loves basking in the afterglow.

• It usually takes him a while to fall asleep anyway. He doesn’t mind it though.

• He gets to watch you sleep peacefully and that’s the best way to end his night. You, curled into his side, and him, smiling like an idiot.

@legendaryskeletonpicklewolf

@zeppelin-groupie

🩷

Aaaaand that's the end of this alphabet, but of course, more to come.

Check out the masterlist for more works!

#the beatles #60s rock #george harrison #the beatles imagine #the beatles smuts #the beatles x reader #vintage #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr #ringo starkey #the beatles art #the beatles fanart #the beatles fandom

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lick-me-lennon22 · 3 months ago

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Poly!Beatles X F!Virgin!Reader - Open Invitation

(HELLO AGAIN!!! my sincerest apologies for the short hiatus, I've been struggling with some heart issues and work troubles but I am back in business and rest assured, all of your requests WILL be filled !! ✨️ please enjoy this lovely request from anon :) 💕)

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️!!! VERY NSFW!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

You'd wondered about the strange look they seem to have shared, but thought nothing of it until reached your hand in your pocket to pull out a lighter, only to find a scrap of paper. The boys had slipped a special invitation into your pocket at your meet and greet, one they had been saving for a very special fan.

But here you were, standing in the hotel hallway and staring up at the door in front of you, glancing down at the slip of paper to make sure you have the right room number. You suddenly began to get cold feet, wondering if this was some kind of sick joke. Would you open the door, only to be met with bewildered expressions on unfamiliar faces? Or, even worse, would you be greeted by the four of them, cackling like a pack of hyenas at your gullible nature?

You push away those unwelcome thoughts, putting on as brave a face as you can muster and raising a trembling hand to the door. You knock thrice as instructed, waiting with bated breath. Until...

"Y/N! We were beginning to worry you'd run our invitation through the wash. Come on in!" Paul welcomes you, holding the hotel door open.

You sigh in relief and chuckle nervously, taking a few tentative steps into the suite, the scent of cigarette smoke and cologne almost overpowering. The other three all greet you, seated in various positions on the sectional sofa.

A voice stands apart from the others, clearer than the rest - it's John.

"We've been looking forward to this all week."

Your heart skips a beat and you look to him with innocent confusion.

"And... what, exactly, is this?"

The four men exchange shocked glances, having assumed you knew what was intended by the invitation.

"Well, we thought... you know, with us," Ringo begins, but John cuts him off.

"We want to shag ya. The four of us," he explains bluntly.

George gives him a swift elbow to the ribs.

"Knock it off, mate! You'll scare the poor thing." John only rolls his eyes in response.

You're taken aback by the proposition. You know no one in their right mind would pass up such an opportunity and, though not opposed, you can't help but feel intimidated. This would be your first time, and with The Beatles? All of them?!

Paul interrupts your train of thought.

"You really don't have to, we can just-"

"No, no! Believe me, I've dreamt about this forever. It's just..." you trail off, somewhat embarrassed.

"What is it? You can tell us, we won't judge," Ringo encourages, but John interjects.

"If we didn't say anything about that outfit you wore to our concert, you know we're good for it," he snickers.

George throws him another jab to the ribs with his elbow.

"Ow!"

You ignore his snide comment, too focused on the matter at hand to be offended.

"I'm... a virgin," you admit, bracing yourself for laughter. Instead, you're met with gentle nods and understanding expressions from the four men. They take a moment to process your admission.

"We wouldn't want to pressure you," assures George as you take a deep breath.

You take a moment to consider the idea. On one hand, this is an important part of someone's life, a milestone - not exactly a decision to be rushed. But on the other... it's The Beatles. I mean, come on. This is the opportunity of a lifetime.

"Well, if there was ever a good time... I suppose this would be it."

"You sure, love?" Ringo chimes in. "The last thing we'd want is for you to feel uncomfortable."

"I'm sure."

"Well, all right then." They share another look amongst themselves before John nods and looks to you.

"We'll start off slow then, yeah? C'mere," he says, patting his thighs. You approach, nervous excitement coursing through your veins.

You sit on his lap, your body tense. He places his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.

"Loosen up, I wont bite."

"Yeah, right."

He shoots George a look.

"Unless you ask nicely," he says with a wink.

You chuckle, beginning to relax. The others watch intently as John shifts his hands to your waist, gently massaging your sides. He mumbles lazily in your ear, his thick accent intoxicating.

"Speak up, Johnny!"

"Share with the class, will ya?"

"Oh, piss off," John dismisses Paul and Ringo, returning to your ear for a nibble. You giggle at the unfamiliar feeling, his nose brushing against your cheek. He moves to your neck, starting off with gentle kisses before growing bolder, leaving love bites along the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You shiver as his hands wander lower - down to your hips, giving them a squeeze, then coming to rest on your thighs. The size of his hands and the warmth of his palms stir something within you. You inhale sharply, biting your lip as a familiar heat pools in your abdomen - the same kind you feel when you watch the lads perform. Judging by the growing bulge beneath you, it seems John is enjoying himself just as much.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes!" You reply breathlessly, a little too eager. "Yes. Keep going."

This earns a chorus of chuckles from the group, who have each begun to palm themselves through their trousers at the sight.

John's hands work their way to your inner thighs, caressing and squeezing gently. He mumbles sweet nothings in your ear as he parts them. His warm breath tickles the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"More, I want more."

At that, Paul stands and steps closer to you, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger.

"You want more, do you, pretty girl?"

You nod enthusiastically, whining in arousal.

"Perhaps she could use something in that pretty mouth of hers to muffle those whines," George suggests with a smirk. You get what he's hinting at, biting your lip and giggling nervously as you look up at Paul.

"I'm not sure I know how..."

"Oh, I'm more than happy to show you, love... if you would."

"Please."

"Eager little thing, eh?" George and Ringo tease, but Paul ignores them.

"Sweet girl... I'll give you what you want."

Paul undoes his trousers and drops them to his ankles, followed quickly by his briefs. You can't help but stare, awestruck, and Paul chuckles.

"Like what you see?"

You nod.

"Would you?" he asks, and it takes you a moment to realize he's inviting you to touch. You reach a tentative hand out in front of you.

"No need to be nervous," he soothes, stroking your hair tenderly.

You grasp the base of his length, hand trembling, and Paul groans at the contact. His skin is softer than you's expected, somehow, and you decide you like the feeling. You begin to move your hand up and down, pumping him cautiously as if afraid to hurt him. Your eyes flicker from your own hand to Paul's face, cheeks flushed and mouth agape. The sight of him this way, knowing what you can do to him with just a few simple touches, makes you feel powerful in a way.

Meanwhile, John's hand slips beneath the waistband of your knickers, traveling lower until he reaches your heat. You instinctively tighten your grip on Paul and the two of you moan in tandem. John trails a finger up your slick folds, drawing gentle circles around your clit.

"Mm... are you ready to open up for me, sweetheart?" Paul asks, his voice almost sickeningly sweet. By this point, Ringo and George have both unzipped their flies, tugging their trousers and briefs down past their hips. They're clearly enjoying this little show, pleasuring themselves as they devour you with their eyes.

"Go on, doll," John encourages. "Take 'im into your mouth."

You do as he instructs, eliciting another soft moan from Paul. He tightens his hold on your hair, using all of his willpower to keep himself from tugging you down onto him.

"Oh, good girl... further, if you can. I won't rush ya."

You pull back for a breath before obeying, slowly taking more of him into your mouth. He throws his head back, groaning in satisfaction. A string of curses tumble from his lips at the soft, warm feeling and you hear John snicker behind you. You really start to get the hang of things, falling into a steady rhythm and bobbing your head as if you were made for this.

All of a sudden, your focus is broken as John's fingers cease their movements and you feel them wander lower. He slides a finger inside of you, taking care to go slow - he's far more gentle than you had imagined. You moan around Paul and he growls, faced flushed pink and eyes screwed shut.

"Fuck... don't stop, doll. You're perfect," he praises and you continue as John's hand moves between your legs.

The friction of his fingers along with Paul's words of praise leaves you lightheaded - well, that and the lack of oxygen. As you pull away for air, George clears his throat.

"What about us, Macca?" He quirks an eyebrow, gesturing to himself and Ringo.

Paul hesitates for a moment before sighing, irritated.

"Fine... I'm getting close, anyway," he grumbles, tugging his waistband back up as you pout in disappointment.

Soon enough, Paul takes a seat on the sofa and George and Ringo take his place, pumping themselves idly as they gaze down at you with lust-filled eyes.

"Go on, doll," George begins, a wolfish grin playing on his handsome features. You comply, taking him into your mouth a little too far as you sputter and cough.

"Careful, dear," he chuckles. "Take it slow."

You try again, more gradually this time. John squeezes your hip with his free hand and you squeak, sending pleasant vibrations through George's lower half.

"That's it, love. Nice and easy," he groans, running his fingers through your hair. After a few minutes you gain momentum, growing more confident in your actions. A tight knot forms in George's stomach as he feels the others' eyes on the two of you, heat rising to his cheeks as he lets out another deep growl. You continue your work on him, but Ringo becomes impatient, scoffing and nudging George's shoulder to snap him out of his stupor.

"C'mon, mate. I think it's my turn - that is, if the lass'll have me." He turns to you, a hopeful glint in his blue eyes.

You nod, humming an "mm-hm" around George's cock. He relents, pulling away begrudgingly.

"Fine. Go on, Rich."

"Attaboy, Ritchie," John pipes up, a lazy grin on his face. Paul simply gazes at you through half-lidded eyes, mesmerized by the performance you've been putting on.

Ringo stands before you, trousers undone. He seems a bit nervous, but any reservations he has are quickly overpowered by desire as he sees your glistening lips and messy hair. You reach a curious hand up and Ringo takes it in his calloused one, guiding you to grasp the base of his length. You give him a soft tug, catching him off guard. He draws a breath through clenched teeth, eyes fluttering closed.

You take him slowly into your mouth, your jaw working overtime to accommodate his size. Once you've settled into your pace, you begin to experiment with your tongue, tracing the underside of his cock. He growls almost primally, tightening his grip on your hair and moaning your name as you bring him closer to the edge.

"All right, you've had your fun," George interrupts and buries his own hand in your hair, gently grasping and tugging. You go to work on him once again, in a daze.

"That's not fair, mate. I had her," Ringo retorts, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you back in his direction. The two men bicker as they stand over you, essentially playing tug-of-war with your mouth.

"All right, all right, that's enough of that." John swats their hands away and they draw back, pouting.

"Yeah, c'mon, lads. We'll each have our turn," Paul chastises.

"In fact, " muses John, "I'd say it's about time Paulie and I take the reigns, eh?" He withdraws his hand from between your thighs, casually licking his fingers clean.

"Wait, wait... and? How's that supposed to work."

"Come with us, love. We'll show you." Paul takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, the other three following suit.

John places a soothing hand on your upper back, ushering you to the bed.

"On all fours, darling. Just relax."

You do as he instructs, getting into position as the others watch on with hungry eyes. John pushes your skirt up above your hips and tugs gently on the waistband of your knickers.

"Can I take care of these for ya?" he smirks.

You hesitate for only a moment before turning back to look at him over your shoulder.

"Yes. Please."

"Eager, are we?" They all chuckle and John slides them off, his trousers growing even tighter at the sight of you bare before him.

"Christ, you're soaked," he murmurs and you blush, somewhat embarrassed.

"Is that... bad?"

"Oh. Right." You bite your lip. John undoes his trousers and lines himself up at your entrance, stroking your hair to calm you.

John chuckles, amused by your inexperience. "No, sweetheart, not at all. It tells me you're excited - y'know, ready for me."

"Now - you're sure you want this, yeah?"

"Yes! Yes. I've thought it through, and..." you draw a breath, "this is what I want."

John groans, satisfied by your response.

"All right. Relax your body as much as you can, and keep your breathing steady. Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he reassures and you nod.

"Ready for me, love?"

You hiss and squeeze your eyes shut. John waits for your body to adjust to the intrusion before gradually sinking all the way in, using your hip as leverage while he buries himself inside you. The others look on with a combination of jealousy and need, wishing they were the ones to fill you.

"Yes! Yes. I want you, John," you beg and he takes your cue, pushing slowly into you.

"Fuck, doll. You're so bloody tight," John growls as you grip the bedsheets beneath you. The other three groan, imagining themselves in John's place. After a few moments, he speaks up.

"I'm going to move now, doll."

John begins to move, sliding in and out of you slowly, careful not to hurt you. You whine in pleasure, the sudden friction causing you to arch your back further. His breathing grows heavy, grunting as he increases his pace.

"Mm-hm," you whimper and brace yourself.

"Ah... fuck. Uh-huh," you manage as John continues to fuck you into the mattress.

"Mm... you're doing so good. Think you can take Paulie too?" he challenges and Paul lifts his head, pausing his movements.

Paul approaches, a sly grin on his boyish features as he stands in front of you.

"Yes, Paulie, yes! I need you all so bad."

"Sure you can handle it, love?"

You moan around him as he slides himself into your mouth, stilling when he hits the back of your throat. He pauses, composing himself before sliding in and out of your mouth, gripping the base of his length as he guides himself.

Your words elicit a collective moan from the men and Paul presses his tip to your mouth, eager to have you again.

"She's damn good, ain't she, Paulie?" he asks through his own pleasured grunts. Paul hums in agreement as the two men thrust in and out of you, the rhythmic push and pull scrambling your thoughts and dulling your senses.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, "Her mouth feels so good Paul groans as John chuckles breathlessly, increasing his pace to match Paul's.

"Feeling generous, love? You've got two hands, after all," Ringo points out. In your lust-filled trance, you raise your arms, offering your hands to the two men. They gratefully accept, thrusting into your fists as the four of them surround you.

Ringo and George, stroking themselves to the sight, begin to feel left out and approach the bed.

You take care of the men's needs surprisingly well considering your lack of experience.

"She's too bloody tight to have done anything before. Trust me, Macca," he groans, gripping your hips as he fucks you into the mattress.

"You sure you haven't done this before, doll?" Paul questions, but John interjects.

"Fuck... Christ, love. Where do you want me?" he asks and you consider your options.

Your whines increase in pitch and frequency, but you certainly aren't alone as all of the men approach their climaxes.

"On my ass," you reply and he pulls out near-immediately, spilling his load on your lower half. You revel in the warmth, moaning around Paul as he approaches his own summit. He pulls out of your mouth, unloading onto your pretty face while you lie as still as possible, drunk on the taste of him.

"Bloody hell, Y/N..." Ringo murmurs.

While John and Paul catch their breaths, George and Ringo increase the speed of their movements, driven by the sight of you drenched in their bandmates' cum.

"I-I'm going to-" he pulls out of your hand, covering your chest and shoulder with his hot cum as George does the same, groaning your name loudly.

The five of you take a moment to breathe, all of you sweaty and spent. You collapse onto the bed, none of them really caring about the mess.

"You should probably clean yourself up, love," Paul suggests. Begrudgingly, you rise from the bed and head for the attached bathroom. You manage to make yourself decent, dressing yourself in a t-shirt one of the boys left behind before stepping back out into the bedroom.

They all stare at you in disbelief, mouths agape.

"So, uh... can one of you drive me home?"

"Plus, you ARE wearing my shirt," John points out.

"You really think we're going to let you go back to your flat after THAT?" George asks, incredulous.

You chuckle in response.

"Guess not," you reply, flopping down on the bed. The men clean themselves up, returning to your side.

"So good for us," George adds, nosing into your hair while the others hum in agreement.

"Such a good girl, you are," Paul praises and kisses your forehead.

By the time they start arguing about John hogging the covers, you're already drifting off to sleep, the familiar chatter comforting you and quieting your mind.

"Aww. Look at that, lads. Guess we lulled her to sleep," Ringo snorts.

"Yeah, but I should-" John pauses, interrupted by your faint snoring.

They each lean over to place kisses on your cheeks, whispering their own "goodnight"s and finally shutting the light off to join you in your slumber.

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cherry-velvet-skies · 8 months ago

Text

Marigolds In The Porch Lights (18+)

Gardener!George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: Smut (FINALLY), but also some Fluff and Angst

Warnings: A poor attempt at a shower sex scene, unprotected sex (ALWAYS USE PROTECTION, Y'ALL), and some kinda twisted feelings I guess idk these two are just constantly teasing each other

Words: 6.4k (I had so much fun with this y'all)

Summary: 1971 era; SEQUEL TO STRAWBERRY LEMONADE; George and Reader finally have their time together; also Geo is not famous in this so I guess it counts as AU lol

A/N: MUST READ STRAWBERRY LEMONADE FIRST FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE! But honestly the amount of requests I got to make a sequel, anyone who's here has probably already read S.L. (also thank you for all the requests! <3)

==============================

One week had gone by since the blossoming of your new relationship with George, and you could not stop thinking about him. Calling him during the week just for your own pleasures seemed rather selfish, so you forced yourself to wait the full week until his next Saturday gardening job. After all, that wouldn’t be fair to his personal schedule, now would it?

Now, here it was, the fateful Saturday afternoon, and the anticipation was swarming you. You knew that you were always his last appointment of the week, and you would have him all to yourself from now until the sunset. You contemplated walking outside naked to greet him, but quickly remembering that neighbors exist, the idea was obligated to fade away. You still wished you could, though.

You left the gate unlocked, allowing him to let himself in. He was so caring of your space, taking time to lock the gate behind him so as not to allow the opportunity of any unwanted guests. You waited by the patio for him, prepared with another plate of fresh strawberries and a cold glass of lemonade. You made enough for two this time, specifically if those two were going to be staying together for a while.

Upon George’s entry, he eyed the fruity treats reminiscent of his previous time here. Instead of helping himself to a snack, he approached you to place a patient kiss upon your lips, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist as he did so. His other hand held his gardening toolkit, keeping it at his side while you deepened the kiss. George was almost ready to drop the bag and take you in his arms, but felt he should at least accomplish what you’re paying him for first.

“How have you been?” You started, having a bit more courage to talk to him this time. He laid out his tools as he knelt in the grass.

“Doing what I normally do, I guess.” He replied absentmindedly, “Though I was excited to get back here and see how the strawberry seeds are doing.” He flashed you a cheeky grin, and your shoulders instantly floated down to a more relaxed stance. George wasn’t big on expressing his true feelings directly, but he had his own ways of getting his point across. You slowly drifted off, listening to his voice as he spoke, until he stopped, and you realized he was waiting for you to answer his question.

“Pardon?” You squeaked, causing George to tilt his head in confusion.

“You have been watering the strawberries, right?” He repeated, gesturing to the empty space beside him, “The soil looks moist, so I’d say they’re doing well.”

“Oh! Yes,” You giggled, “I purchased a book on how to care for them the morning after you planted it.” A wide smile spread on George’s face, giving you a short nod and happily moving on to the next patch of flowers. You wore a scarlet colored dress today, planning for him to give you a matching rose from your garden. You concluded that you were the one who could determine which type of flower you receive by the color you chose to wear that day. You weren’t sure if George was also aware of this arrangement, or he just enjoyed finding flowers for you too much to notice.

You had treated this time you spent with George almost like your first date. You wanted to know everything there is to know about him, no matter how minor. In the hours that he had been there, you learned that George also knew how to play guitar, and he enjoyed writing songs, but was never really interested in the life of fame and performing to the public, so he preferred not to pursue it. Being a gardener and getting as much time in nature as he could was more than enough to make him happy.

The time went faster than you both wanted it to, partly because this time felt like you had known each other for years. George had even taken the time to show you how to tend to certain flowers, as the rules differed based on the type of plant. He showed you all his tools, demonstrating how to use them and the best places to start to preserve the flowers, as well as any of his personal favorite natural additives to help the flowers grow. You now knew that adding common household items, such as white vinegar or banana peels can give your flowers a speed boost. George even explained how ground coffee could be beneficial to the soil if you decided to start growing vegetables. His wide range of knowledge was better than any purchasable book could provide.

Before you knew it, the sky was growing orange, and the sunset was upon you. More time to spend with George aside from his occupational responsibilities was not completely out of the question, so you hadn’t lost hope yet. That is, until you saw him reach for his bag to start packing up his tools.

“You’re leaving?” You blurted out, not wanting to sound desperate but your body not even giving you a chance to consider your words. “You just got here!”

George glanced down at his watch, eliciting a small chuckle. “I’ve been here for three hours, love.”

“Well it felt like three seconds to me.” You pouted, crossing your arms and slumping back against the tree you were sitting under. “And you said we would do more together next time! That’s what you said the last time you were here!”

“And we did, didn’t we?” George replied, not missing a beat. “Last time, there was much more uncomfortable silence. This time, we had a wonderful conversation.” He paused to remove his gloves and place them in the pocket on the side of his bag, slowly rising from where he was seated in the grass. “That’s a pretty big improvement, don’t you think? It’s something I can cherish, especially since we won’t be seeing each other next week.”

Your eyes widened. Initially, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly, but it was true. First you had missed out on quality time with George and now next week he wasn’t going to come by? You felt your heart sink, trying your hardest to keep the tears from escaping your eyes.

“Why not?” You whined, a little louder this time. You didn’t want to sound like you were throwing a tantrum, but it was difficult when that was exactly what you wanted to do.

“I’ll be out of town next weekend.” George replied matter-of-factly, “I’m going to visit my family as one of my relatives is getting married. The wedding is on Saturday, so I’ll be gone the whole weekend.”

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to do anything that would make him stay. But why? He didn’t do anything wrong, but your impression of how the day would go when he got here was a lot different than how it actually went down. You felt like you were lied to, except that you weren’t. Last week, George said that you would ‘make more time for each other’ this time, and technically, you did. He never said what that time was going to be spent on. Perhaps you two had different ideas as to what his return would bring. But instead, you tightened your chest, putting away that tantrum for your alone time later.

“But I thought-” You stopped yourself, knowing that telling George what you really wanted could potentially lead to unwanted results, especially if he didn't feel the same way.

“Thought what?” George asked, staring at you as you mentally cursed yourself for popping a corner of the lid on Pandora's Box. “Did you have a plan for today?” He was too clever. There was no going back now.

“Well…” You started, feeling a blush creep up onto your cheeks, “Sort of…”

“Oh?” He teased, the sunset casting a brilliant sparkle on those dark brown eyes, “Well, come on then. Out with it.” You pursed your lips, shifting your gaze to the floor. George leaned in closer, the coarse hairs of his mustache brushing against the shell of your ear. “So long as we're pretending I don't already know.”

He knew what you wanted. He was going to make you say it.

You stood concerningly still, almost frozen. It was a battle of wits, but you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to win or lose. If you gave up now, and spilled your guts, would you get what you wanted? Or would George continue to string you along, making you wait anyway just to see you squirm?

George sighed, looking at his watch again. “Well,” he huffed, feigning annoyance, “if you have nothing else to say, I suppose I should be going now.” He kissed your cheek, wedging his hand into your own to leave his complementary petal before making his way to the gate. You couldn't even look at him as he left, feeling too embarrassed. Instead, you looked down at your hand. A rose petal, no surprise. You were about to head inside until you heard George call your name. You partially turned around, still feeling rather conflicted. He was standing on the other side of the gate, pointing towards the patio.

“I'd turn that light on if I were you. It gets rather dark out here.” He waited for you to respond. You slowly nodded, approaching the back stairs. And with that, he got in his car and drove off.

You flipped the switch, watching as the porch light came on. It was a glimmering golden yellow hue, expanding its beam about halfway through the garden. You weren't sure why George told you to put it on, but it did make the garden look brighter. Even when you were angry with him, you would still do whatever he wanted you to.

But why were you angry? George hadn't done anything wrong. You knew he was teasing you, but you didn't care. In fact, there was a part of you that liked it. You felt like he was playing with you without even touching you. Wrapped so tightly around his finger that you felt like it was your life force. It strangled you in the best way possible. Like an invisible leash secured around your neck, and he could pull you wherever he wanted. You were completely and truly captivated by him.

Slipping quietly into the house, you felt like you wanted to cry. The anger had subsided and was soon replaced by a persistent longing. Your disdain towards having to go two weeks without seeing George wasn’t even due to the fact that you were crazy about him. It had become a routine. At this point, you wished you hadn’t been so shy to start a conversation with him the first three times he showed up. That you hadn’t waited until just this previous week. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe you’d be closer.

You didn’t know where to go from there. Part of you accepted this as what it was, and you would see George eventually, while another part of you felt defeated that you wanted to do something about this when you knew you couldn’t.

When you woke up the next morning, your house felt quieter, despite you having always lived alone. Almost like George had been staying in the guest room this whole time unbeknownst to you. Perhaps he was a frequent visitor to the guest room in your brain.

You spent the rest of your weekend like any other weekend: it was another gorgeous spring day, and you loved to sit out on the patio and catch up on your reading while you enjoyed your lunch or an afternoon snack, hearing the faint melodies coming from your living room of whatever record you put on for the occasion. It was the only time you actually preferred being alone. Perhaps it was the only activity potent enough to fill the void of your longing for George.

When night came again, you headed inside, about to shut the patio door when you swore you heard a voice.

You froze, but briefly shrugged it off as being in your head. You looked outside, barely being able to see your garden, but knowing it was only your subconscious. You shut the door, turning to walk away until you heard it again.

I’d turn that light on if I were you.

It gets rather dark out here.

You sighed. Even when George wasn’t around, you felt like he was right beside you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you released a noise that sounded like a mixture of both as you flicked the porch light on, not paying it another thought as you headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Monday morning. You dreaded it more this week for some unknown yet obviously known reason. The past few weeks, you would just think about your weekend with George to get you through the boring parts of the day. But since this weekend did not pan out like you thought it would, there wasn’t much to occupy your mind. That was the hard part about all this. George didn’t have a typical nine-to-five. He would have gardening sessions scattered throughout his day. Sometimes he would be booked solid, and other days would be quick appointments for treatments, leaving more time for his personal schedule. Even if you wanted to meet up with him during the week, your strict schedule prevented you from having any time with him. Maybe something could’ve been worked out eventually, but the current state of your brain would not settle for that. You wanted him and you wanted him now.

When you got home that night, the feeling had not left. It was more manageable while you were away, but you felt like you were coming home to a house that was once full of life, only to no longer harbor that same feeling. You had never realized how much life George brought to your daily routine even when you didn’t live together. For a moment, you wondered why this was affecting you so much. Perhaps you were overreacting. You would see George again. It would just be longer than usual until you did. You released a heavy sigh, a sliver of hope that you could push this feeling out of your mind, for at least a little while, had begun to show itself.

Until night fell. You glanced at the back door.

The porch light.

That fucking porch light.

The entire time you lived here, you barely even acknowledged its existence. But ever since George made you aware of it, you think of it every night. Subconsciously, you thought maybe if you were consistent in putting it on every night, he would come back. He would find his way to you, sensing your desire to see him, and you would never be apart again. Never be alone again.

You turned it on again, simultaneously hopeful in your delusional scenario and growing impatient at how long your heart wanted to keep up the act.

The next morning, going by the door to shut the light felt like a walk of shame. What were you waiting for? George had his own schedule. His own life. He would see you when he could. You couldn’t help but start thinking if George was missing you as much as you were feeling every day was so bleak without him.

But yet, that night, you turned the porch light on again. Feeling an overwhelming, compelling urge to stay, you opened the back door, stepping out onto the patio. You stared up at the light, admiring the wonderful golden hue of the small bulb inside its painted glass shade. The shade was brushed in bright yellow, matching the bulb and some other accents of the house’s exterior decor. It seemed so much more prominent at night. It was the only thing visible from far away. A sign of life in the home. You smiled at the thought. You would’ve probably never got around to use it if it wasn’t for George. He truly did bring new life into your home.

Thanks to the light, you could see the first few rows of flowers in your garden surrounding the large tree in the center of the yard. This was your gradient row, as you loved to refer to it as. The row where George had taken many creative liberties, creating a smooth-flowing spectrum of colors around the tree like a color wheel. The warm tones faced the house, showing you your lovely spread of roses, tiger lilies, and marigolds.

The marigolds reminded you of the light. Bright, yellow, and outstanding. It was also one of the only few flowers in your garden that George had not given you petals from. You turned back to the light. You decided it could be your marigold petal. At least for now.

You didn’t stay long. You quickly returned inside, shuffling briskly back down the hall, trying to make it to the bathroom before the tears dripped off your face and down onto the floor.

The following morning, as your fingers brushed against the switch to turn off the light, you let out a loud sob. It had rained in the middle of the night, and the sight outside the back door, one of gray overcast and a messy, muddy garden, made it all feel much too real. You couldn’t hide it anymore. You missed George. Oh, how you missed him. One day a week wasn’t enough anymore. You needed more of him. So much more. More than your own mind, body, and soul would ever know.

You considered taking off work today, as your mangled emotions were surely draining your energy. But realizing that staying home would only twist the knife further, you conceded. It was almost as if any choice that life could make would've been wrong in your eyes. Whether you went to work or stayed home, you felt uncomfortable. If the work day went quickly, you were dreading coming home to face your feelings again. Yet, if the day dragged on, you groaned at the thought of having to endure more time until your fateful reunion with George. You were incessantly unsatisfied. Insatiable, even. The only correct answer was George. You needed him to give you what he had promised you, whether he was waiting for you to admit it or not. At this point, you wouldn't have even cared if you sounded desperate. You were desperate. You didn't care if you had to call him right now and divulge everything you felt. How badly you wanted and needed him. Your brain was chasing a fierce addiction, and George was your dealer.

That night had been the hardest so far. You couldn't even bring yourself to walk down that hall. The light wasn't going to be some magical beacon to signal George. You felt like you were holding onto nothing. You didn't care if the light wasn't on tonight. It made no difference anymore.

You went to sleep early that night. Your main thought process was to sleep as much as you could to make the days go by faster. You didn't even want to think about this Saturday. Your soul felt like it was grieving. But grieving what? George didn't break up with you. Technically, the two of you never even established any sort of declaration of a relationship anyway. But you felt like you belonged together. You were his and he was yours. As sweet as the thought was, you quickly shoved it away as you felt your eyes welling with tears.

You turned on your side to try and sleep when you heard a noise outside. It sounded like a low thud, but fairly close to your house. You shrugged it off at first, until you heard it again a few minutes later, sounding closer this time.

You sat up in bed, overtaken by fear. Living alone, you always worried about having to fight off intruders. Luckily, nothing had ever come of it. Until now.

Grabbing a broom from your hall closet to arm you, you headed into the living room. Your first instinct was to check out the front window, being too scared to open the door.

You peered through the curtains, seeing nothing to the left or right of the door, the street only illuminated by the porch lights of your surrounding neighbors. Of course the universe had to think of a way to remind you of what you were desperately trying to put out of your head.

You closed the curtains, ready to go back to bed when you heard what sounded like wet footsteps coming from your back door.

Oh fuck.

If this really was an intruder situation, you were anything but prepared. You glanced at the back door, hiding behind the hall corner. With your breath held and your muscles stiff as the wooden boards beneath your feet, you took slow steps down the hall. You lurched forward to quickly lock the door, which you normally did anyway but forgot that night as you never actually made it to the door without crying.

Knowing that the lock was safely in place brought you some time. Being closer to the door, you heard another sloshing sound, as well as some angry muttering. With your luck, the intruder slipped on the wet and muddy grass and was now disoriented, leaving you time to- well, do what, exactly?

You hadn't thought this far. Do you call the police? Make a loud noise in retaliation in hopes to scare them away? Armor yourself with throw pillows to burst through the door and use your broomstick to beat them senseless? Your mind was racing. The most reasonable thing to do in that moment, although it hurt quite a bit, would be the answer to whether this was really a life or death situation.

You turned on the porch light.

When the illuminating glow hit the grass below, you saw a person laying there, covered in mud, clearly not anticipating the new biome that had been created in your backyard. You screamed, causing the person to immediately look up at you. Upon making eye contact, you felt your heart spring up into your throat before free falling down to your stomach. You threw open the door, feeling like you were being fled with a million emotions at once, all conflicting each other. You stood there in shock, only being able to choke out one single word.

“...George?”

“I thought I told you to keep that bloody light on! I almost broke my neck out here!” George shouted, but couldn't keep a straight face long enough to be convincing, dissolving into a puddle of laughs back onto the ground. You felt your whole body fill with happiness. You dropped the broom, running out into the yard, slippers and all, squealing all the way before landing on top of him, trapping him in a tight hug.

You kissed him faster than your brain could process what you were doing. The familiar feeling of his soft skin, luscious hair and beard, and plush lips made your whole being swell with euphoria. Your golden yellow silk pajamas were now full of mud, but it didn't matter. George was back here with you. And you didn't need anything else.

“You’re getting all muddy, love.” George giggled, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face.

“I don't care!” You shouted while laughing, pressing loud, wet kisses across his face and neck. George wrapped his arms around you, resting his hands on your waist. You pulled away, staring into his eyes. It may have been late at night, but you felt wide awake as ever. Before you even opened your mouth to speak, you knew there were tears dripping down onto your cheeks. “I didn't think I'd see you again for a while.”

“I planned to stop by before I left, but I didn't have much time during the day.” George confessed. “I wanted to surprise you, but I'm realizing it might have been a better idea in my head.” He looked around the yard, then at his muddy clothes, eliciting a light chuckle. “Thinking about it now, I probably should've called first.”

“I'm just so happy to see you.” You replied, not even hearing half of what he said. You heard he planned to come back for you, and that was all you needed to know. “But I'm guessing your plan involved you being able to see once you got back here. Hence the, you know, porch light.” You averted your gaze, adding a nervous laugh.

“First I tried hopping over the fence, and tripped over that.” George explained, staring back at the gate. “Then I tried to walk quietly, and slipped in that big puddle over there. Not to mention I tripped over the center gradient, so I apologize for that. I'll be sure to fix it the next time I'm around.” He added with a swift cup of your chin and a kiss to your lips. You looked at the tree, seeing the warm toned flowers slightly uprooted, tiny specks of dirt adorning their golden petals. Honestly, that didn't even matter to you. The image of George trying to sneak into your backyard and failing miserably made you erupt into laughter again.

“I suggest you have to get cleaned up now, don't you?” You asked, running a finger through the thick layer of mud adorning his jeans.

“Well, yeah, but I refuse to get your floors all dirty.” George declared. You helped him up off the ground, trying your best to smudge the dirt out of his hair, as well as your own.

“You can leave the clothes in the laundry room. I'll deal with them tomorrow.” You replied. George shot you a look, helping you brush some of the grass off your pajamas.

“So it's already been decided that I'm spending the night, then?” You smirked, not saying anything back. George smiled, sneakily pinching the skin on your waist. You squealed, playfully batting his hand away. You turned to walk back to the patio when he spoke again.

“Even after we get out of these filthy clothes, we still have to get ourselves clean, you know.”

You froze, a chill running through your spine, excitement filling your body. You whipped your head around, grabbing George’s hand and leading him to the stairs. You were about to open the door when he put his arm out to stop you.

“I know you're excited, love, but I still don’t want to bring all this mud into your clean house.” He seemed genuinely concerned by this issue, but at this point, nothing was going to stop you.

“Okay, fine. Easy fix.” You stated, slipping the straps of your pajamas off your shoulders, followed by your underwear. George’s eyes widened as he watched the silken fabric pool around your ankles, leaving you completely nude standing on the patio. The cool air of this particular spring night began to wash over your body, and you shivered slightly. You weren't sure if it was from the sudden breeze, or the tantalizing feeling of this whole situation, but either way, your nipples were completely hard.

Seconds later, George followed suit, removing his muddy shoes, followed by his equally sodden shirt and pants. He stopped at his underwear, feeling a flash of uncertainty. He was no stranger to being nude, but being nude while standing on the back porch of his lover’s house in the middle of their classy suburban neighborhood? That was a new one.

He turned back to you, taking in the sight before him. Seeing your fully bare form, taking one slow drag of his eyes over your lower half, he quickly shuffled off the remaining piece of clothing and tossed it on the floor with the rest. You opened the door, scooping your clothes up in one swift motion, walking a mere few feet and tossing them in the laundry room to be dealt with eventually. You couldn’t be bothered right now. George did the same, keeping his clothes in a neat pile right beside yours, placing his boots by the door. He stood there for a few seconds, gauging your readiness to proceed. With a smirk on your face, you grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom.

You opened the shower curtain and turned the water on, feeling the warm steam slowly fill the room. You adjusted the water to a comfortably neutral temperature before climbing inside, leaving space for George to join you. You stayed under the stream of water, allowing it to take its time to rinse all the mud off your arms and legs, and most of it out of your hair, leaving you with a fresher start before moving on to shampoo and soap. You looked over your shoulder at George, who now seemed rather chilly, so you switched places, allowing him to rinse off as well. He had been wearing more covering clothes than you, so there wasn’t much dirt he needed to get off his body, but his hair was a different story. He spent extra time using his fingers to comb through his beard, which seemed to be a prime target for all that grass and soil.

Getting started on washing your body, you had briefly turned away from George to grab your soap. Before you could open the container, you heard a low shudder coming from behind you. You looked at George, who was now staring at you, while sporting quite the erection. You giggled, lightly poking his stomach. “Am I taking too long for you?”

“You know, for someone who wanted me so badly outside, and is now teasing me about having to wait, you’re quite mad, aren’t you?” He stated, glancing down at himself while continuing to rinse his hair. You laughed louder this time.

“I figured we would clean up first.” You said innocently. He chuckled.

“Why do that when we’re just gonna get dirty again, love?”

You bit your lip, holding back a whimper, but the way your legs involuntarily began to clench shut gave it away immediately.

You nodded. “I see. Well let’s get it on then.”

The second you finished your statement, George wasted no time grabbing your waist and pressing his lips against yours. It was a hungry kiss. Passionate. Longing. It had confirmed he missed you just as much as you missed him. You put your hands in his hair, which was now much softer under the water. You were the one to take that passion further, feeling his lips part and allowing your tongue to enter his mouth. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy this, moving his hands from your waist down to your ass, kneading it softly yet with an impatient edge to it. You were tempted to hook one leg over his waist, but the slippery floor beneath you made you fearful of losing your balance, so you refrained. But you wouldn't have even had time to take action, as George quickly pulled away, spinning you around and pushing you up against the shower wall. You put your hands out, both of them splayed out on either side of your head as your cheek made contact with the cold tile. George grabbed your waist again, slowly grinding against you, slightly pressing you between the wall and himself. The contrast in temperature between the cool, flat surface and the steamy air made your head spin before he even did anything else. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

“I think you've waited long enough, my beautiful flower.” You moaned softly at his statement as you felt him enter you. Slowly, savoring it just as much as you. It was a bit of a stretch, but you never found it painful. The combination of the warm water and your mutual arousal provided a decent amount of lubrication.

George continued to leave kisses around the shell of your ear and down to your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder. Once he was all the way in, he steadied himself before going any further. “You doing okay, love?” He cooed, patiently waiting for your response.

You sighed blissfully, softly nodding your head and letting out a low “mhm” while taking in all the sensations around you. The mix of everything made you whine in pure ecstasy, feeling so full in the best way possible, not wanting to say or move much in fear of losing your grip on it. You felt like you were in a different world, where it was only you and George, and nothing else mattered. However, you were not in the mood to be kept waiting either, feeling like you were holding your breath a bit, waiting for his next move. You took another deep inhale and exhale, releasing another moan in the interim. “It's okay,” you mumbled, “you can keep going.”

George nodded, starting with a soft, slow pace. Even with shallow thrusts, you were already in heaven. You quickly got lost in the rhythm, hearing his occasional breathy sighs directly into your ear. Hearing him enjoy it just as much as you were only turned you on more. And the more George fell into a rhythm as well, the faster he went. His thrusts became quicker and harder, pushing you up against the wall with each motion. Your moans had just become one long groan of pleasure, the way your nipples dragged across the cold wall with each thrust stringing you along even further.

When you felt that pressure start to build, you couldn't even form a coherent sentence to signal anything, the only word falling from your lips a meek “George...” before a high-pitched whining overtook you again. George shushed you softly, rubbing his thumbs along your waist as he brought you closer to the edge.

“I know, flower. I know.”

What felt like seconds later, you felt your orgasm crash over you, a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a scream flying from your mouth, proclaiming your everlasting love and worship of the man behind you, feeling yourself begin to slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath. George finished shortly afterwards, his grip on your hips tightening as he came inside you. He tilted his head back, a low, steady groan signaling his release. He had no choice but to use the wall for support as well, nearly falling on top of you after he slowly slid out. It was times like these you considered turning off the shower head and just filling up the bath instead, as your legs felt like jelly by this point, leaving you with minimal energy to hold yourself up.

Before you could say anything else, you felt George’s hands on you again, running his fingers through your hair. You smelled the familiar scent of your shampoo, feeling it glide through your hair as you closed your eyes again. He held you tenderly, guiding your head to the water, gently tilting it back to rinse the suds from your hair.

Once finished, he started on your body, massaging the soap all over your back, making sure to be careful around any areas that were currently more sensitive than usual. You sighed happily, feeling pampered like royalty, so grateful to have him here with you.

After a few minutes, your legs didn't feel like that of a newborn giraffe anymore, so you turned around to face George, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before taking the bar of soap. “I got it from here.” You giggled, finishing yourself off before starting to help him out as he eyed your shampoo. It wasn't what he used, but it smelled nice, and there wasn’t much of a choice in this situation. He chuckled before squeezing a small amount onto his palm, looking down as you lathered up his chest and stomach.

Once you both had thoroughly cleaned up, you turned off the water and stepped out, fetching some large fluffy towels and equally soft robes to only increase your level of comfort. By now, both of you were free of mud, partially dry, and ever so tired. Wasting no time to climb into bed, you snuggled up against George, resting your head on his chest.

“I'm so happy you came back.” You whispered, placing a kiss right over where his heart is. George giggled, caressing your arm.

“I would've always come back, flower.” He paused with a pensive sigh. “I enjoy every second I spend with you. You give me new life. A new purpose to an already wonderful experience.” You stared up at him, eyes wide in awe. It was the first time he had openly expressed his feelings to you without hiding them behind his usual cheeky humor. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

“You have no idea how special you are to me.” You beamed, craning your neck up to kiss his jawline, surprised when he turned his face and you landed on his lips instead.

“And you to me.” He replied. You enjoyed the streak of added sappy statements from George, but you knew it was a big step for him, judging by the deep breath he took afterwards, followed by a swift “Let's get some sleep, love.”

“Okay,” you agreed, “but let me just make sure I locked the back door first.” George nodded, getting comfortable on his side of your bed as you hopped out from under the covers, shivering again as the cool night air came back with a vengeance on your naked body. You quickly put your robe on and shuffled down the hall. You clicked the lock shut and went to go back to your room when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Something yellow.

You looked around until you spotted it again, sticking out of the side of George’s boot. Bending down to get a closer look, you moved the muddy laces and pulled it out. A tear almost fell down your cheek and you held it between your fingers. A petal from one of your precious marigolds, presumably stuck there when George tripped over them on the way in. You smiled warmly, feeling your heart soar at the idea that George can give you a petal every visit, even if he didn't realize it. Without saying anything, you put the petal in the pocket of your robe and made your way down the hall, trying not to disturb George as you quietly slipped back into bed.

==============================

IT'S FINALLY HERE Y'ALL 😄 I'm so happy I can share it and it was definitely a fun plot to continue!

Taglist: @peaceloveandstarrs @queen-of-stars @nosegoes @cocteautwiny @thatgoesinthere-misshapes

(If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to send an ask and let me know! 🥰)

#george harrison #george harrison x reader #the beatles #beatles #the beatles x reader #the beatles fanfiction #beatles x reader #beatles fanfiction #george harrison fanfiction #george harrison imagine #george harrison x y/n #george harrison x you #george harrison smut

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bealtesharrisonmacca · 8 months ago

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“Be quiet”

Paul McCartney x reader

Fem reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: smut!, not public but not exactly private sex…?

Summary: You and Paul have to share a bed and things get a little tight, the rest of the band is only two doors away.

The boys manager has asked you to make their next trip as cheap as possible. Even though they are plenty rich, none of them want to spend money on where they sleep, considering they will be preforming or doing press conferences most of the time.

You just booked a little secluded house for them and yourself for their next tour.

But upon arrival you all realize it would have been better to spring for something a little more expensive. The place was very cozy and all, but it only had 2 bedrooms.

The band members run into the house to call dibs on a bed. You follow soon after.

Unfortunately there is only one king sized bed in one room and a little bed in the other.

“Alright lads” Paul said while yawning. “You lot take the king size bed, me and

Y/N will take the other room.”

The others teasingly let out kissy noises and giggles.

“Shut it, I’ll be sleepin on the floor or something” Paul exclaimed firmly.

“Well why don’t you sleep on the floor in here then?” John taunted.

“I don’t wanna listen to yer bloody snoring all night” he answered to no one in particular as he led you out of the room.

The other bedroom was only two doors down from where the others were going to be sleeping. Only room separating l you was a tiny bathroom.

You began unpacking your things while Paul was laying a blanket down on the floor for him to sleep on.

You felt sorry for him, although it was a bit funny to imagine him sleeping all uncomfortably the whole night. Wiggling around and looking up at you in a comfy bed.

“Paulie, are you really sleeping on the floor?” You asked.

“Well, there’s only one bed love”

“It can probably fit us both, we’ll just have to squeeze a bit. I just don’t want you sleeping on the floor, you have a big day tomorrow.” You felt yourself blush as you knew you were proposing a bit of an unethical situation. But it could also just be seen as an innocent suggestion from a worried assistant.

Paul walked over to you. His fingers putting your hair behind your ear. Making you blush even more at the sudden forwardness.

“If yer alright with it, then yes, I would rather sleep in the bed” he paused. “With you..”

The words went right to your head but all you did was smile as you picked up the blanket he had laid on the floor and placed it on the bed.

You started looking for your pajamas only to remember that you hadn’t packed any.

“Fuck” you cursed to yourself.

“What’s wrong love?”

“Well, since I thought we would all be sleeping in separate bedrooms, I didn’t really pack any pajamas.” You said worriedly.

Paul smiled that smug smile he sometimes did.

“So you really didn’t know there was only two bedrooms when you booked this place?” he said as he approached you.

The butterflies in your stomach grew quickly as he came closer. So close you were almost touching.

“No of course not Paulie” you assured him, but it didn’t come out as confidently as you had hoped.

“Okey okey, whatever you say love”

He smirked and walked back to his open bag and he gave you one of his t-shirts.

“You can sleep in this if you want.“

You thanked him, still blushing. You pulled off the t-shirt you were currently wearing and threw on the one he gave you.

Paul watched closely the whole time. His eyes admiring your half clothed body.

You pulled your pants down revealing your legs completely. Thankfully, his T-shirt was big enough to cover your underwear, although you really wouldn’t be complaining if it didn’t.

You laughed silently at the situation. Here you were. About to share a bed with Paul fucking McCartney while almost naked.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I never really sleep with anything except my brief’s.” Paul said as he was getting into the bed.

“No not at all!” You said, maybe a bit too excited at the news.

Paul chuckled while still eyeing you up and down. He didn’t want to admit it, but the look of you wearing nothing but his t-shirt made him really horny. Of course you were still in your underwear, but he couldn’t see those anyways so he imagined they weren’t there.

You got into bed next to him. The bed was smaller than you thought. Immediately you felt your thighs brushing against his. Giving you goosebumps.

You lay with your back towards him while he was still on his back.

“Paulie, I think there would be more room if you were also on your side” you said attempting to seem nonchalant.

Paul did what you said and so now he was spooning you. Paul’s hand was slightly touching your waist. You could sense he didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but he wanted so badly just to touch you. You were laying pretty close and you could feel his growing boner touching your ass.

In the heat of the moment you decide to subtly yet in an obvious way push your lower body into his boner. Just then feeling how big he was.

Paul let out a pleased moan. He was now sure he wasn’t the only one longing for more. His hand tightened around your waist as he began slightly grinding against you.

His motions were pleasing, but it wasn’t enough for either one of you. You needed something more.

You could feel Paul lowering his hand, getting closer and closer to your heat. His fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of your underwear. Making you squeal.

He retracted his fingers, not sure what your reaction meant.

“No, Paul. Don’t stop, I want you Paul” you whispered.

You felt Paul smile behind your neck as he lowered his hand again. This time tracing his fingertips along the top of your underwear before slipping his hand into them.

You gasped as the simple pleasure of just his hand against your heat. He began slowly circling your clit. Making you moan and yearn for more.

“Yer so wet for me already love?” Paul whispered into your ear.

Before you could ask him he slipped two fingers into you. He pulsed his fingers in a slow pace, letting you relax, before going a bit faster.

By now his erection was poking hard into you.

“You sound so pretty, yer makin me really fucking hard y’know”

His voice was low but firm. Sending vibrations down your neck. You turn around to face him. Sadly making him remove his hand from your underwear. The look you give him making his boner grow more than he thought possible.

Your hand went to his crotch to feel his erection. Paul gasped at the slight touch. You could feel how much he wanted to be inside you. And you wanted it as much as him.

Paul climbed on top of you and began kissing you passionately. His lips touched yours in a way no one ever had. Letting out soft moans between each kiss.

His hands traveled from your hair to the bottom of your t-shirt, well, his t-shirt really. He looked at you to make sure you were ok with what he was doing. You nodded and he pulled the t-shirt over your head.

His lips went back to your mouth to kiss you again. His hands nearing your breasts.

Paul trailed kisses along your jawline, down your neck and just barely gracing against one of your breasts. You let out a delighted moan. Urging him to continue.

But he didn’t continue. You looked up at him curiously. He was sitting on his knees over you. Hands by your head.

You could see what he wanted. You had kept him waiting long enough. Looking down at his briefs as you started pulling them off. You tossed them to the side when they were off.

He was huge. Just the thought of him stretching you out caused you to moan.

Paul smirked as he started pulling your underwear off as well. He went to kiss you again but this time his hand was back on your clit. Your hips bucking at every slight touch. You needed him inside you.

Paul lined himself up, his tip barely brushing against you. You try moving down to get closer to his cock but he then pulled further away. Making you groan frustratedly.

“Don’t move” Paul demanded.

He grabs your hands and hold them above your head. Keeping you still. He used his other hand to open your legs wider for him. You gladly oblige.

“Good girl, now don’t move and don’t make a sound. The boys are asleep just down the hall”

You squirm at the thought of one of them walking in on you like this. But before you can continue your train of thought Paul thrusts into you. A loud moan escaping your throat.

One of Paul’s hand fly to your mouth to cover the sounds you’re making. You can’t help it. You want to scream his name for all the world to hear. He thrusts at a slow pace to keep the volume down, but mostly to tease you. You try moving your hips to get more of him in you but he grabs your hips tightly. Holding them in place and keeping you from moving.

“I said don’t move, you gotta take what I give ye or nothing”

You nod reluctantly. Knowing the only way to get what you want is to listen. And if you were being honest, following Paul’s orders really turned you on. After all you were his assistant so it’s only right he’s in charge of what happens.

His hand is still covering your mouth as he suddenly pushes his cock deep inside you. Muffled sounds escaping your mouth. You arch your back at the pleasure.

You feel your climax building up and your moans and shaking legs makes Paul realize that as well. Right before you hit your climax, Paul slows his pace and pulls out of you. An angry grunt escapes you. You look at him, still longing for a release.

Paul looks at you in a way that tells you he really enjoys keeping you on edge. He quickly flips you over on your front, displaying your ass to him. He gives a few kisses to your back as his hands wanders to your hips, holding you tightly before slamming into you again. You immediately scream out his name, but this time his hand isn’t covering your mouth.

Paul stills inside you at the that sound leaves you lips, almost refusing to move.

“Do you want to get caught? Are you such a slut you want someone to hear you?” Paul says rather loudly before harshly thrusting into you.

“Well then that’s what we’ll do, let everyone hear how good you take my cock”

You shiver at his words. You couldn’t hold yourself anymore. You scream his name through moans. Not bothered by the fact you have probably awoken the boys by now.

He picks up his pace, not letting go of your hips. With every thrust reaching a special spot inside you. The pressure of your climax is strikingly close. Pauls breath tells you he is also nearing his climax

With one last thrust you feel yourself unveiling. You and Paul come together in a blissful mix of breathy moans and sweaty body’s. You immediately feel all your stress fading with your orgasm.

Paul kisses your forehead and you go back to your spooning position. Still out of breath. You cuddle for a while before falling asleep

#paul mccartney #the beatles #macca #george harrison #paul mcbeardy #john lennon #smut #fluff #ringo starr #Paul McCartney x reader #fem reader #smutty #rockstar boyfriend

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emlovslennon · 10 months ago

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omgg last night I dreamed about supeeer cute soft dom george being very affectionate and giving making love to reader making her forget all her insecurities whispering in her ear a lot of worship, it's my first request and don't speak English very well but I'm here hehe love ya!

GUYS IM ALIVE HOLY FUCK BALLS !!! Anyway HEHEHHEHE evil laughter back to my mischievousness (mental illness). Also I LOVE YOU TOO

Era: 1965 cuz i feel like it

Audible moan.

You had been feeling extremely insecure ever since you got back from the opening of the the Beatles new movie, “Help!” You saw how in the newspapers they were saying incredibly cruel things about you, especially about how tight your black dress was when you wore it to the premiere. It was, “Name the Beatles wife with the worst taste?” Or “That dress certainly doesn’t look flattering on her!” Like it was some joke. You felt tears brim your eyes just thinking about it. You’d constantly look in the mirror and pinch at your stomach and thighs, you just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t be as beautiful as Jane or Maureen or Cynthia.

“Love, I’m back! Love? What’s wrong?” George said, he had just gotten back from a meeting about an upcoming album, so he unfortunately couldn’t take you along since it was a private meeting, not a public one. You were laying on your shared bed crying, with a newspaper at your side. The one that completely wrecked your self esteem. George caught on and picked up, in complete anger, he ripped the newspaper up and threw it in the trash.

“Absolute bloody rubbish! I hate those damn newspapers, y/n, come ‘ere love.” He said, quite angry, but gentle once he called your name. He couldn’t believe someone could say that about his wife. He thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. How could anyone not agree? They must be blind.

“Love, don’t listen to those bloody bastards, you are the most beautiful and lovely woman I ever laid eyes and have ever met. If they don’t believe that, then they must not have eyes.” He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. Your tears at this point subsided and you looked up at him, he gave you a grin and kissed your forehead. You know this probably wasn’t the best timing, but you just couldn’t resist when he looks at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“George, could you maybe show me how beautiful I am?” You say quietly, George winks at you in a joking manner and wiggles his eyebrows which make you giggle. George slowly positioned you to get you to lay on your back while he slowly got on top of you.

“I mean it when I say you look stunning in anything.” He whispers, playing with the hem of your black night gown, it was short and only went down to almost the end of your inner thighs. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, as he slowly lifted up your night gown, leaving completely exposed. You usually didn’t bother with under garments when you were going to sleep, you just didn’t feel the need for it.

“You amaze me every time, y’know that?” He praised, as his hands went to your breasts as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. George lifted himself up to take off his black long sleeve shirt and the pair of black pants he wore with it, as he went back down to kiss your neck, he hand slowly wandered down to your core, lightly rubbing causing you to whimper. George grinned at the sound, George loved nothing more than when you made noises for him, he doesn’t even really care when it comes to him getting off it’s just as long as you do he’s good.

“Can I?” He asks, his fingers nearing and circling your hole, you nod frantically as he giggles at your reaction, he slowly inserts two fingers into you. You bite your lip and throw your head back into the pillows with the intrusion. But you couldn’t lie, his fingers do wonders. He slowly thrusts them in and out as he watches you whimper and moan, he usually never goes fast unless you tell him to, he’s just never really been that kind of person. Whereas someone like John is the complete opposite.

“F-faster, George!” You moan out, causing George to kiss and suck on your neck harder than he did before as he went faster, your juices starting to seep down to the sheets as the noises coming from your core begin to echo through out the room. You felt the tightness and heat in your belly about to burst and you knew that only meant one thing.

“George-I’m-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you felt as if you were sitting stars as your orgasm hit. George never wanted to admit it, but he absolutely adored when you orgasm your a shaking and moaning mess for him, you look absolutely wrecked just from his fingers.

“Are you ready? Do you need a minute?” He asks, one thing to note about George, is that he is huge on consent, he would never, ever, do something that you didn’t like or something that he thought could hurt you. It would break him into a million pieces if that happened.

“Yes, please!” You say shakily, George nods as he kissed your forehead, slowly lining himself up and entering you.

“You’re always so good for me, always. No one could ever compare.” He whispers lovingly, kissing your earlobe as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

“Your noises are to die for, you are to die for, i can’t get enough of you.” George loved praising you during sex, he always took pride in doing so.

“G-George, please.” You whisper, George looks up at you, with a questioning face.

“Please, faster! Please!” You moaned out, George gave you a smile and kissed your cheek as he went faster, but not too fast, just slightly faster than the pace he was going. You moan out as he brings his fingers down to your clit and rubs circles round it, making your legs shake. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and creeping up on you like it was the grim reaper.

“George! Im gonna cum, please!” You cried out, all the worry, sadness, and insecurities you were experiencing early had completely disappeared. They were nowhere to be found. George always managed to make your worries and fears go away, it’s like he was magic. But to be fair, he pretty much was.

“Aw, come on pretty girl, cum on me, go on.” George groaned, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him, and before you know it, it wasn’t before too long both of you came together. You were shaking and moaning for quite a bit even after he pulled out and kissed your face all over. George laid on his side and brought the covers over both of you.

“Did that make you feel any better?” George asked, his hand holding yours, you look up at him with a smile.

“What was I upset about again?”

THIS WAS KINDA CHEESY BUT WOOOOAH I LOVED IT

#classic rock #classic rock imagines #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #the beatles x reader #60s #george harrison x reader #george harrison smut

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sunflowersinthedirt · 2 months ago

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AFTER SHOW | PAUL MCCARTNEY 🎸

Where Paul really wants you and can't stand hiding it anymore OR where you have low self-esteem and don't see yourself as feminine and beautiful enough to attract anyone's attention.

female!reader, fluff.

| mentions of alcohol and pot, mature language and reader not feeling feminine enough. Written in first person. |

english is not my first language and gifs are not mine.

—

1965.

Nothing could have prepared me to see Paul being interviewed after the tenth show of that tour in the hotel by this girl. Sure, it was a usual scene, but she… She was beautiful. Red-haired, medium height, and rosy-skinned. She looked like one of those porcelain dolls people order for decoration. Delicate, polite and apparently funny. The hazel eyes of the english singer were solely focused on her, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

It made me sad in a way. But my mind couldn't figure out if it was because Paul was close to such a beautiful woman with a courteous smile for so long without me seeing him next to a woman, or if it was because she was everything I was not: Too beautiful.

The truth is it was always like this. I always had to compare myself with every woman who got close to the boys. I had been working with the Beatles for almost four months and had yet to see any erratic behavior from them towards me or any woman - They´are flirty, but not disrespectfull. Far from me wanting all of them, but sometimes a doubt would light up inside me: Am I pretty enough for a Beatle to notice me? Of course, not just them, but any man. 

I walked down the hotel hall to my room, not wanting to notice anyone's presence there and hoping they wouldn't see me either. I went up to the corridor of the rooms so quickly that not even a camera flash would catch me if someone photographed me there. I heard footsteps behind me and felt a tap on my arm.

— Where are you going in such a hurry, luv? — It was Paul. His warm touch sent an electric current and a shiver through my stomach. I felt my face heating up too, but it could have been the wine Brian offered me earlier at the after show. — To my room. — I replied, a bit intoxicated by his scent and how close he was to me. Either I was too tipsy for having had two glasses of weak Chilean wine with Brian Epstein, or Paul's eyes had a different sparkle that night.

— Can I be your company? — He asked boldly and irresistibly. — I want to get out of here too.

I nodded positively. Paul and I walked down the room corridor, and I felt drained by the energy of the place. Paul seemed tired and high... His eyes continued to disturb me. I couldn't judge him because I was this high too.

His eyes shone and disturbed me in an attractive way, of course. After seeing him with the red-haired girl, I started comparing myself to her automatically. I wasn't unkempt, but I didn't feel feminine enough either. It was always a battle to get ready and force myself to see myself as a feminine woman. And being in Paul's company that night had a strange atmosphere.

Why would he prefer to stay with someone like me, so clumsy? He was my best friend... But what could I offer him if we were seen together? In my mind, we simply didn't match. Paul and I were closer because we had similar tastes. I adored him, and he was totally my type. A Liverpool gentleman, contrary to the thoughts of people who had prejudice against Liverpudlians. He liked photographs, good music, and had accompanied me (when he had time) to cinemas and theaters.

When I entered that room, I had almost forgotten he was my company that night. A cold, electrifying air passed through me, and my body shivered. I felt small in the vastness of the night of the tenth show of that tour. I was too lucky and knew it, knew that girls my age would die and kill to be in my place and work with the Beatles.

— What's wrong with you? — He asked, breaking the silence. A tone of concern was perceived. — You seem too quiet today.

I threw myself onto the double bed in the room. It was soft, comfortable, and had pocket springs. I heard the springs' noise, and my body wobbled a bit with the impact of my lazy throw onto it. I wanted to stay in that position forever if possible.

— It's nothing. — I lied. I didn't want to worry Paul. He and the other guys had an incredible performance at the show today. Brian was proud and trusted me blindly to accompany them in all this madness. — Just tired, and I drank too.

Paul threw himself on the mattress next to me, very close to me. Now we both stared at the white ceiling of the hotel room.

— Darling, stop it. I know when something is wrong with you. I didn't even see you smile today. — Paul commented, now turning to me. He knew, he knew me well... And I kind of hated myself for making it too obvious. It took me a while to turn to him and take my eyes off that ceiling.

Not because the hotel room ceiling was more interesting than Paul but because I could commit a big madness being centimeters away from his face. I could blame the earlier glasses of Chilean wine or realize that I had been in love with Paul for a long time and stop hurting myself so much. I knew this would end our friendship in a bad way.

— I smiled when you guys were on stage. — I didn't look at him. I could feel Paul's gaze burning my cheeks.

— I didn't see... — He said, his voice huskier, whining. Almost a moan. — Look at me, love. Tell me what's going on, hm? — He pleaded. I felt butterflies in my stomach. The wine's effect seemed to be affecting me more than it should.

I started to wonder if there was something more in the wine or if I was drunk intoxicated by Paul.

— Paulie... — I whispered his name, finally looking at him. I wanted to laugh nervously, so I bit my lips. Paul looked at me with the most needy expression in the world at that moment. Either that or I was going completely crazy...

Shit. He's beautiful, and I really liked him.

— Hm? — He murmured softly in response to me calling him. His eyes were low and dark, a look I had never seen in all this time working with the Beatles. — If I ask you something, would you be upset with me? — He asked, his voice low and firm.

— You know that I can't be angry with you. Just.. go ahead...— I blinked quickly, trying not to appear intoxicated by him.

— Can I? — He sounded nervous. — I mean, can I kiss you, darling? — He asked me. His hazel eyes locked on mine.

I took a deep breath, trying to process what I had just heard. It wasn't possible, was it? He wanted to kiss me. He. Wanted. To. Kiss. Me.

— Paul, I-

— I'm sorry. — He interrupted me, and I felt like an idiot. His eyes darkened, and the boy's face now had a sad expression. He sat on the bed with his back to me.

— Paul, I...

— It's just that I'm feeling different. I don't want to mess up our friendship. — He interrupted me again, and honestly, I couldn't be mad at him for interrupting me. I sat on the bed. Paul looked at the lamp, his long and curved eyelashes making a perfect drawing on his eyelid. I confirmed that even his profile was beautiful. — I'm kind of tired of this. And you keep disturbing my thoughts, you know? I can't sleep without thinking about you. — He finally confessed, now looking back at me. His thick lips moist and shining with his saliva.

My heart felt like a philharmonic band. He was driving me crazy.

— Y/N, I don't want to lose your-

I interrupted him and did the craziest thing. I silenced him with my lips on his. Paul gently held my face, his thumbs relaxed on my right cheek. I wanted to go fast, thirsty for him, he wanted to go slow. He tamed me like no one else could that night, tilting his head to deepen the lazy kiss. I felt like I would melt there... His mouth was warm, moist, the taste of wine sweetening my mouth. It was intimate and moved me like no man had ever done. The need for air became apparent, and we pulled apart, Paul still daring to steal a peck. Our lips swollen and red.

Suddenly, I felt shy. I had indeed kissed him, caught him by surprise. He had too, he kissed me back... Unbelievable that he reciprocated me and my repressed feelings.

— Paul... — I whispered, intoxicated, feeling my lips moist with his saliva. Our faces were still close but not close enough to be strange.

— Shh... — He gave me a long peck. — I know. Me too, darling.

And then nothing else mattered in that room but him and me. 

#paul mccartney #paul mccartney fanfic #paul mccartney headcanons #paul mccartney x reader #the beatles x reader #the beatles headcanons #the beatles imagines #the beatles smut #the beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles #john lennon headcannons #john lennon x reader #george harrison headcanons #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr

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pauliesangel333 · 4 months ago

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groupie love, 60s! paul mccartney x virgin! reader *:･ﾟ✧*

・゜゜・paulie wants to show you a good time after you please him first 🎀

- oral , f! recieving

- fingering

- handjob , m! recieving

this is my first fic so please be nice <33 + also i loveeee writing sub! paul mwahaha ;)

You looked at paul meekly, blinking your long eyelashes at him and fidgeting a little with your skirt , miniskirt, to be specific.

He softly placed a hand on your thigh, cupping the underside of it and pulling you gently onto his lap, letting you straddle him as his head grazed the wall and the back of his neck touched the headboard. His mouth lightly grazed your ear as he mumbled,

“‘ts okay sweetheart, i’ve done this hundreds of times, ill take care of you”

Pauls voice was like honey, he was such a sweet talker. You slightly rutted against his lap, feeling his member press into your leg. You breathed out at the slight friction and put a hand into the back of his hair. His pretty eyes looked up at you through his eyelashes as his hand traced up your back,

“what is it angel, hm?”

He could sense your slight hesitation but didn’t know why,

“its just…”

You breathed , pouting slightly whilst trying not to let anything slip,

“mhm? tell me baby , c’mon”

His encouragement only caused the heat between your thighs to grow,

“paulie , you’ve had so much experience and i just- , i just don’t want you to be bored or not feel good, i wanna make you feel like no one else can..”

The words hung in the air as a gentle blush spread across your cheeks, grazing them a light pink

why did i even say anything? god, i’ve ruined the moment now-

You felt paul’s breath catch in his chest, and you looked down at him, feeling a slight change in the dynamic, his hair was deliciously messy and his cheeks now also had a similar pink hue

“paulie? what is it?”

You trailed a hand down to his belt and began to play with the metal buckle, slightly grazing his v-line, causing his breath to hitch even more, you were suprised at his sensitivity considering his reputation, the liverpool bull, as they called him

“ah, baby, you make me feel like, no one else, god, when i see you in outfits like this, even when your on my arm, it gets me so worked up, ‘can hardly concentrate when your around”

You felt a newfound confidence knowing your boyfriend underneath you isnt really that tough afterall

“oh really?”

You cocked an eyebrow up as you pushed yourself off his lap to lay down by his side, he whined softly at the lack of contact now on his hard member,

‘honey, mm- c’mere”

He placed his hands firmly on your hips and leant his face towards yours, lips touching as he passionately kissed you, you could taste tobacco and mint on his breath and it drew you in even further. You moved your hand down to his cock, tracing your fingers over the raised fabric and you began to massage his member through his tight pants. He whined at the hypnotic movement and bucked his hips into your hand.

“ah, m~ baby, gotta see ‘ye, body, fuck, please?”

He whined into your touch, you pulled your hand off him and began to slide off your skirt, along with your panties and your bra, revealing your whole chest. He looked at you in awe as you lay next to him.

“angel, ‘yer so perfect all for me”

He cooed softly into your ear and placed a few small, loving kisses along each breast. You looked at him and began to tug on his collar, letting your nails lightly scratch his neck, causing him to shiver

“cmon you too paulie”

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You tugged on pauls member, sliding up and down as your spit ran down his cock, your hands twisting gently when you reached the tip. His hard breathing pounded against your chest and neck as he peppered you with sloppy, open mouthed kisses.

“baby, mm , ‘want ya to feel good too, ah- you deserve it”

Paul sat up slightly and put his hand up to grab your chin, his silver wrist chain lightly grazing your cheek. He placed two fingers into your mouth and lightly pressed on your tounge as your spit coated his digits. Your hand began to stroke him more lightly as he began to pay attention to you, he slid his fingers over your clit, drawing circles as you moaned slightly in his ear,

“oh- paulie, yes, mm”

He smirker cockily as you began to let out more sounds. He knew what he was doing to you. You continued your sweet nothings into his neck and gradually felt him get more rapid and animalistic with his movements,

His fingers began to slide in and out of you quickly, the room was filled with wet noises, causing your face to heat up slightly

“yer such a dirty girl, all for me ‘eh?”

He curled his fingers inside of you and began to kiss your clit, his body shifted to hover over you and kiss all over your lower half.

“o-oh my g- , paul , ‘m so close”

You cried out, a knot began to build in your stomach and you tugged on his hair as your thighs pressed into his face

“‘ts okay angel, let go for me, ‘yer such a good girl for me”

You released all over Paul’s fingers and mouth, he continued to lick a gentle pace on your clit as you came down, driving you slightly mad with the overstimulation. White coated his fingers and he pulled out of you gently. He reached to kiss you as his body was fully on top of yours.

“yer so pretty, my sweet girl”…

･ﾟﾟ･｡

#the beatles smut #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #the beatles x reader #john lennon #george harrison #60s rock

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thebeatles-world · 1 year ago

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Picture Perfect: Part Six

***** A BIT OF SMUT **** ⚠️‼️⚠️ MENTIONS OF S*X ...... BEWARE..... FYI THIS IS A LONG IMAGINE SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT....

There was an agreement between you and Ringo that you two would spend a couple of nights in a fancy motel. Just a couple of days before you guys chose to go home back to England.

When you and Ringo were making love to each other, Floyd Robinson's "Makin' Love" was playing in the background.

As far as you know, you have never had any experience with someone making love to you except for Ringo.

Due to the fact that Ringo made you feel so fantastic, you moaned.

The only thing Elvis ever wanted was to have sex with you. As far as you are concerned, he never made love to you.

It was the first time Ringo had shown you sex until now.

In view of the fact that you and Elvis had constant sex back then, the only reason you and Ringo postponed having sex was the fact that you weren't ready for it yet.

Ringo was the first person to give you an orgasm.

''It drives me insane when you moan Y/N. you drive me so mad.'' Ringo groans as he responds to your moans.

It was impossible for you and Ringo to keep both of your hands apart from each other.

Ringo and you found each other's pleasure in each other's company. You both performed oral sex on each other during the course of the night.

The two of you liked to pleasure one another as well as hearing each other moan with pleasure.

You left love bites on Ringo's chest while he left love bites on your bare shoulders.

It was the best night you could ever have..

When you and Ringo finished making love to each other, you got dressed, made yourself a cup of honey with tea, and walked out of the room to the balcony where you could admire the view of the beach outside of the fancy hotel.

''You must admit that it is quite beautiful, isn't it? '' You told Ringo as he joined you on the balconey.

"The beach is indeed beautiful.'' Ringo replied, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he smiled back at you.

Taking a sip of your honey tea, you said to Ringo, "You know, I wasn't exactly the prettiest girl in the world.'' You told him, taking a sip of your honey tea.

''What are you talking about? You are beautiful to me, darling, and I adore you. It doesn't matter what you looked like in the past; you will always remain beautiful to me.'' Ringo told you.

I appreciate it very much, Ringo… I really do. You smiled as you said it. The memories of horror that you went through when you were a middle school student, and a high school student came back to you like crashing waves from a ocean.

There was a time that I was bullied because of my looks, the way my body looked, my voice, and so on. You explained this to Ringo.

The girls at school always made fun of me, laughed at me, threw things at me, gossiped about me, and made fun of me all the time. During my time at school, I was harassed and made fun of by the boys in my class as well.'' You said.

''There wasn't really a good school life as well as a good home life for me growing up. The woman who bullied me at home was my mother. In addition to being bullied at home, I was also bullied at school at the same time. It's hard to believe that I managed to survive.'' You replied.

There are a lot of details in your book that go into detail about all of this.

The only time you liked talking about it was when people in interviews asked you about it when they were asking you questions about your book.

As you grew up, you went through a very difficult time in your life. You also knew that Ringo had read your book, but he knew not to ask you any questions about it until you were ready to open up about it. Now you were ready to talk about your past and what you went through in the past.

Your mother abused and bullied you as well as when your parents divorced, and you explained to Ringo the abuse and bullying she put you through, as well as how your father caught your mother cheating on him with a man who ended up becoming her husband, who then ended up doing something horrible to you behind closed doors when your mother was not present.

Ultimately, when you finally told your mother about it, she did not believe you and kicked you out of the house, so you had no choice but to live with your father.

As soon as you had finished talking, you took a sip of your tea and sat down to rest. You felt better in Ringo's arms as he held you and comforted you with sweet words which made you feel better as he wrapped his arms around you.

''You are the strongest woman I have ever met in my life. I will protect you and make sure that you will never be touched or even hurt by anyone again. You mean so much to me darling, and I promise you I won't ever allow you to go through that again…'' Ringo told you.

As you looked at Ringo, you nodded and kissed his lips with a soft smile. ''I love you so much, Ringo.'' you told him quietly and he kissed you back.

"Y/N, I will always love you and I will always take care of you." Ringo replied.

Ringo was a wonderful boyfriend for you: he was so handsome, sweet, caring, and lovely to be around.

While you and Ringo were cozily cuddling outside on the balcony, neither of you had any idea that Elvis had checked himself into the same fancy hotel where you were both staying.

Well, Elvis decided to rent a room at the fancy hotel with Ann-Margret, the same woman who he cheated on you with behind your back when he was filming a movie with her when you both were dating in the past.

When you found out that Elvis cheated on you with Ann-Margret, you angrily grabbed a glass plate and threw it at Elvis. After that, you burst into tears and cried uncontrollably as you watched Elvis scurry away, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

''I can't believe you would do this to me, Elvis! How could you cheat on me with Ann-Margret? I thought you loved me and that we were going to be together forever. I trusted you and now you've broken my heart.'' You would cry as Elvis just stared at you and didn't even try to comfort you or even say to you.

When you and Elvis broke up that's when he noticed how much it hurt you and he brings himself down sometimes because of it.

The main reason why Elvis was hanging out with Ann-Margret at the hotel was to get you out of his mind after what happen back in the club.

"Ann-Margret, I'm going to go smoke a cig real quick." Elvis said, nodding at her.

"All right, sweetie." Ann-Margret responded to him while she was unpacking her suitcase.

Elvis went outside and strolled down the beach. He heard crashing waves. It was incredibly quiet outside. The night sky was illuminated by the twinkling stars.

When Elvis started smoking his cigarette, he noticed that up in the balcony he could hear your voice as he smoked.

His first thought was that he was just imagining things, but it was not. it was real. The night sky was now filled with the sounds of your laughter and the voices of Ringo's chatter.

Elvis felt his heart race and he could feel a chill in the air.

Elvis was jealous of Ringo because he could kiss you, hold you, and call you his girl while Elvis could not do those things anymore. Elvis was reminded of this each time he heard your laughter, and he felt like he was missing out on something special. Elvis's heart ached.

"I'm going to get your bath ready inside." Elvis heard Ringo say and he couldn't help but gaze as you and Ringo exchanged a kiss.

''I'm going to go inside and get your bath ready.'' Elvis mocked Ringo in his best British accent.

''Why does that British kid have something that I don't have?'' Elvis thought to himself in jealous envy.

Why were the Beatles more popular than Elvis when Elvis felt like he wrote and sang better music than them?

Elvis saw you on the balcony by yourself when Ringo went inside. He finished his last bit of cigarette....

You dranked your last bit of tea. "Ah," you sighed, "the perfect way to end my night" You stood up and stretched, feeling refreshed.

Before you went inside, you suddenly spotted Elvis outside. He still hasn't notice you yet.

Your heart felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you by someone.

"What the heck was Elvis doing here?'' You whispered out loud to yourself.

TO BE CONTINUNED.....

#john lennon #the beatles #ringo starr #george harrison #the beatles tumblr #the beatles fandom #the beatles collection #beatlemania #the beatles imagine #Paul McCartney #ringo starr imagines #ringo starr imagine #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr smut

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laurfilijames · 1 year ago

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Ryder Harrison (Vegas)

Love and Hate (Ryder x female reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

George Lowe (Hillary)

Home (George x female reader)

#laursmasterlist #ryder harrison #vegas (2021)#ryder harrison x female reader #ryder harrison smut #george lowe #hillary (2016)#george lowe x female reader #dean o'gorman

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givemequeen · 2 years ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can feel that.” you giggled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please Geo.” you whined.

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

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

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

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

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

“What now?”

“Get yourself off.” he shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonus:

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

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

“Very.” you mumbled.

“It wasn’t... too much?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BONUS BONUS:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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iheartjohnlennon · 8 months ago

Text

The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - Paul

@heiterhund <<< co-writer xxx🩷🎀

A is for Aftercare (How he treats you after sex, what happens after sex, etc...)

• Paul's very chatty with you at the end of it, then after that he just lies with you.

• Sex takes all of his energy and he can barely move himself. While he still has you, he’ll talk your ear off about everything and anything, important or not.

• And he 100% asks you how the sex was and how it felt - he wants a review.

• After you guys talk, he just stares up at the ceiling, daydreaming, dazed. He looks lovely, you just sit up and stroke his face, your breasts in his face as he mumbles how much he loves you.

B is for Body part (His favourite body part of yours)

• Your breasts win everything for him.

• He just thinks they sit so prettily, he loves the curve of your chest - the underside of them. How soft they feel in his grasp. They get him so distracted.

• He also loves the way your tits bounce when he’s fucking you.

• He can grab them, suck them, squeeze them, fuck them, finish on them. They're just...everything.

C is for Cum (Where he likes to cum)

• Paul adores cumming on your breasts, no matter the position you do.

• He loves the way it looks - your tits being covered in his white, glistening seed.

D is for Dirty secret (Something utterly filthy that he did/or does/or wants to do behind your back.)

• Sometimes Paul will either purposely let his friends hear you get fucked or just tell them about what you both get up to.

• It started off as a joke when George made an off handed comment about the marks on Paul’s skin, usually the dark love bites littering his neck.

• Due to this, Paul really, really feels the need to tell his bandmates how well you guys fuck. Their reactions just fuel their ego.

E is for Experience (How experienced is he?)

• Those prostitutes in Hamburg taught him a lot, a lot.

• Not to mention he's a bit of a whore anyways so he picks up knowledge and stuff.

• Paul knows and has experience past mere orgasm. He could be a sex therapist or something at this point.

F is for Favourite position (How he loves to fuck you)

• Paul really likes anything where he doesn’t have to put in much work. He’s honestly a lazy lover. He doesn’t mind topping though, you just have to ask.

• He prefers cowgirl, because he gets to have his hands on your pretty hips and watch your tits bounce as you do it.

• But that’s not to say he won’t do any other positions! He just has to admit that watching you, watching your face, is his favourite thing to do.

G is for Goofy (How silly is he during sex?)

•Sex with Paul isn’t long enough for a full conversation, let alone smart quips.

•He might laugh if he can’t get it in the first time, or if he hits himself or something. But other than that, he just isn’t silly during sex. He takes it very seriously.

G is also for Goal (What's his goal and/or dream in relation to sex)

• His goal is to cum! To cum everywhere and anywhere you will let him.

• He obviously cares about your orgasm, but… he feels like he should finish first, y’know?

H is for Hair (How well groomed he is, does the carpet match the drapes, etc..)

• This depends on the era, really.

• Early 1960s Paul would be very well groomed, neatly trimmed and not too long. Just a pretty thing that frames his cock, really.

• Going to 1966 and up? Yeah…maybe it would be a little unruly, but not like a jungle.

• After 1968 though…he just stopped caring!

I is for Intimacy (How romantic he is during sex, etc..)

• His intimacy depends on your relationship.

• If it’s a fling, expect him to hump and dump within a day. If you’re his girlfriend though? Expect him to be as caring as he can be, for the moment, anyways.

• There’s really no big scene in the bedroom, no music, no romantic lighting - just him being slower and taking his time. Your hands intertwined as he mumbles and tells you how much you mean to him.

• It doesn’t happen often, but he does want it to be often. So long as your relationship develops.

J is for Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

• Paul loves to jerk off.

• He thinks it’s the easiest thing to do. Plus, it focuses solely on his pleasure.

• He thinks about you when he does it, usually with his back pressed against the headboard cock in hand, as he tugs and twists until his hand is covered in his release.

K is for Kink (One or more of their kinks in relation to you)

• Paul has a huge breeding kink. He gets so hard when he thinks about knocking you up. It makes his cock throb and ache with need. He usually tries to cum inside you, hushing your muffled concerns with his hand over your mouth as he keeps thrusting into you.

“Shh, it’s alright, I think you’ll be a great mother. Don’t you want me to be a father, love?”

• Usually that’s his attempt at soothing you, and it makes him even more excited.

• His other kink is cross dressing… nothing too extreme, but he loves when he’s able to wear something frilly and girly. He loves the way he looks in panties, it makes his dick look bigger, which is more of an ego boost.

• One word: pegging. He loves feeling like the bitch in the relationship. He makes cute little whimpers, hands fisted into the sheets as he tilts his head back. He refuses to take it on all fours, though. That's too much for him. He prefers being on his back, legs wrapped around your waist as you ease the tip of the strap into him. His pouty lips part as he lets out a shaky breath - cheeks flushing pink.

L is for Location (Favourite place to do the deed)

• The comfort of his own home just brings him a peace he rarely feels since he's constantly bombarded with fans and press and money.

• Doesn't matter where in your home, just as long as it's there.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on about you, gets him hard, makes him cum, etc..)

• Paul loves the faces you make during sex.

• He thinks you look so pretty fucked out and flushed. Your cheeks are so flushed, he thinks it looks better than any makeup you’ve ever worn.

• Your lips are so swollen from all the desperate kissing shared between you two, usually glistening with saliva (It’s Paul, he’s a messy kisser and that won’t ever change.)

• Eager humping, harsh gripping, and loud pants are usually Paul's tell tale signs that he’s about to cum.

N is for No (Turn offs, what pisses him off, etc..)

• Paul isn’t too thrilled at the idea of threesomes. He doesn’t like the idea of sharing you because what’s his is his.

• But if John asked or any close friends, he probably wouldn’t mind too much… No one else though, he’s the only one who knows how to fuck you. So why would you want someone else to join in? This is why he's so possessive, he wouldn't be able to even bear the thought of any other cock being inside of you.

O is for Oral sex (Does he prefer giving or receiving? How does he give, how does he receive?)

• He prefers getting head than giving head.

• He likes the way your lips wrap around his dick, tongue lapping the underside of his head - before you graze his shaft with your teeth. It sends a deep chill down his spine…

• When your nose nuzzles what pubic hair he does have, he’s about ready to cum down your throat. His hand usually finds its way to your hair, making a fist into it - pulling you up and down until he’s reached his climax.

• He does like eating you out though! It’s just not his preference. you might have to ask once or twice, unless he’s high or drunk.

• If that's the case, then he’s on you like some animal in heat. Sloppy kisses pressed against your clit, tongue dragging down to your entrance before he wiggles his tongue into it.

P is for Pace (Fast or slow? Rough or sensual? Etc)

• It’s not slow, like, at all.

• He's on you until he’s cumming inside of you.

• It's very fast, rough, desperate humping, like a rabbit. Sometimes he’ll hold you in place, hips jerking in quick messy directions.

• It can be romantic! Just…usually it isn’t.

Q is for Quickie (His opinion on quickies, how often they happen, etc..)

• Oh, he LOVES quickies.

• That’s usually what sex is like with him anyways! There may not be long rounds, but there’s usually so much fucking throughout the day.

• The beds too far away? Don’t worry, he’s already lifting up your dress, tugging down your stockings, and sliding his dick into you.

• He’s backstage during a performance? he already has you in the supply closet, hand over your mouth as he has his way with you.

R is for Risk (What kind of risks will they take.)

• Paul is 100% a pregnancy risk kind of guy.

• He kind of gets off on it as well, getting you pregnant “accidentally”.

• He'll not want to wear a condom and you'll ask him if he's sure, he just shrugs like...how bad can it be!

• He does want you to have his children eventually, he just likes the idea of having them unplanned.

• He just wants to raw dog you in peace, okay?

Paul finally had you to himself.

The long day of answering the media, signing autographs, shaking hands - it was all so monotonous.

But he’d do it all again if it meant he’d get to come home to you, naked, on his bed spread beneath him.

His dick was shoved into you, hands shoving your knees up to your chest - as he gave harsh, short thrusts.

You let out soft whines, eyes rolling back as you took it like the good girl that you are.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

“Y’know, ‘m not wearing a rubber,” he huffed out in your ear, the smirk evident in his tone.

Your eyes shot open as you tried to turn your head to speak into his ear.

“B-But, Paul,” you tried to speak, words getting caught in your throat as he continued to fuck you. Your nails dug into his back, leaving scratches as you tried to focus and tell him about the obvious risk.

“Easy now, quiet down, I wouldn’t quite mind getting you pregnant y’know…”

S is for Stamina (How many rounds he can last, how quickly can they cum, etc..)

• He’s like a rabbit, he can and will fuck everyday if given the chance.

• He can’t do long rounds, each round is about 10-15 minutes. but there’s at least four rounds before he gives out and feels like he's been drained of his cum and will never cum again.

• Paul can cum in five minutes if you let him, but he’s always edging himself so you can enjoy sex as well.

T is for Toys (Does he own toys, use them, what kind of toys, etc?)

• You both have used your dildo, but not in the way where Paul just uses it by himself. You had to share it for the moment when you first tried pegging him.

• He asked one day if you guys could try something new. He and John were talking over lunch about sex - and John brought up something about the prostate, just a silly thought.

• Paul had to pretend he wasn’t interested, joking with John how stupid it sounded!

• But it’s all he could think of until he was home with you. He was nervous to ask about, thinking you’d see him as some sort of homosexual. You didn't, you have such an active sex life that trying new things in the bedroom never seems like a bad idea.

• Safe to say, Paul loved his prostate being stimulated. Due to that, you now own a strap on.

• Paul also doesn’t mind you having toys. He personally buys you them as well and likes watching you unbox them.

U is for Unfair (How much does he like to tease you, how does he tease you, etc..)

• He’s extremely unfair, but not in the teasing sense.

• Paul simply adores you, but he’s extremely selfish when it comes to pleasure. If you don't finish but he's tired and can't go on, he'll make you beg to finish. A lot of begging.

V is for Volume (How loud is he, what noises does he make, what does he say, etc..)

• He doesn’t make loud sounds, but he is pretty noisy.

• He groans and whines, huffs and pants as he’s inside you.

• He’ll usually lean down next to your ear and rasp and breathe out how good your pussy feels.

• But that’s probably the most coherent sentence he’ll make out. Most of the time it’s just his gasps and sighs.

W is for Wildcard (Random sexual headcanon.)

• Paul never thought he’d agree to this. His jealousy made him an extremely bitter lover. Which was super ironic considering you always saw him flirting with fans.

• Though that’s not the point.

• John came over to visit one day, the group was taking a break from playing.

• Paul saw the way John was eyeing you, his brows lowering each time John complimented you - or would place his hand on your knee when talking.

• He couldn’t take it anymore and when you went upstairs to grab something, Paul approached his friend.

“Are you serious?” He asked through gritted teeth, ensuring you didn’t hear.

“Well, no, I’m John.” He responded, a shit eating grin plastered across his features.

His attitude was making Paul more pissed, “Can you please drop the act for one second? You cannot be hitting on my girlfriend in my home!”

John didn’t look amused, his eyes fixated on Paul as he debated about his next step.

“Well, if I can’t be hitting on her in your home - can I be fucking her?”

And so there he was, sat across in the chair that your clothes usually laid on, facing your bed. He was being cucked by Lennon, and honestly? It wasn’t as bad as he thought.

Each time John rammed himself in you, he would ask: "Is this good? Do you like it-" and each time you would whine, teasing him, saying how Paul could do it better.

X is for X-ray (His cock.)

• Okay…so…5 inches solid, extremely average.

• He's circumcised at least! That's one plus! And his balls are good enough, a nice round pair.

• And dear God, is it a good 5 inches though. In spite of his size (which doesn't bother him too much) he knows exactly how to use it, and use it he fucking does.

• Size matters unless you're called James Paul McCartney.

Y is for Yearning (His sex drive, how much do they want you?)

• He's like a dog in heat when you are both alone.

• In fact, even when you aren't alone, he'll still want you. Little touches under the table, spontaneous quickies, grabbing your arse and your tits.

• Paul is absolutely insatiable.

Z is for Zzz (Sleep afterwards?)

• He falls asleep after at least 40 minutes of talking to you and daydreaming.

• You watch him doze off slowly before sleeping yourself.

• He sleeps like a baby unless he's stressed or has to write or produce.

The other two coming soon x

John's here

#the beatles #george harrison #60s rock #the beatles imagine #the beatles smuts #the beatles x reader #vintage #paul mccartney #the beatles fandom #the beatles fanart #the beatles art #john lennon #ringo starr #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney imagine

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cherry-velvet-skies · 2 months ago

Text

Give It To Me Easy (18+)

DILF!George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Sex obvi; Oral (M receiving); No dialogue (idk I've heard that bothers some people)

Words: 1.2k

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You kneel before him, gazing up at him from between his deliciously spread legs. He loves the way you look from this angle, your half-lidded eyes and plush lips making it hard to disguise the arousal nipping at your lower abdomen.

Your longing stare flickers between his gorgeous face, jaw tightened as he's trying not to come undone before you even begin, and down to his crotch, level with your mouth, erection straining against the confines of his trousers. You decide he's waited long enough, and do a swift swipe of your hands over his navel before slowly undoing the zipper on his pants. With a low groan, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, preparing for whatever you have planned for him. But, being the little devil you are, you want to see how long you can string him along, and immediately stop what you're doing. Instead of continuing your actions, you stare at him, pants now unzipped, feeling a chill run through your body as you gaze at his bulge through his underwear. You palm him softly, caressing your thumb over a minute spot of precum that gradually left it's mark on the fabric. You're not looking at his face, but you can tell he's peering down at you now. He can't see your eyes, only the fanning of your dark lashes hovering over your cheeks. But he can see your smug face as you smirk, knowing that no matter what he tries to say, you've got him wrapped around your finger.

You decided to finally meet his gaze, his expression one of tacit reasoning. He may have enjoyed your teasing nature, but now was not the time. He needed you and he needed you now. He didn't have to utter a single word for you to come to this conclusion, but as the precum spot on his underwear increased in size, you knew he was nearing his limit.

Feeling merciful, you lightly scraped your nails through the small tuft of hair peeking out from the waistband before pushing the band further down, watching as his erection sprung free and settled up against his stomach. Your eyes widened, glancing up at him once more as a look of confirmation before beginning your descent. You took him in your hands, tracing the length of his shaft with your index finger. Each time you did this for him, you studied him closely. You were determined to have all of him, every shade at his tip, every curve, every vein, every strand of hair gathered around the base, all committed to your memory.

As much as you wanted to continue your teasing, your own want was starting to get in the way. You wrapped your hand around the base and slowly guided him into your mouth. Just as his tip grazed your bottom lip, he gently brought a hand to your face to cup your cheek, assisting you by tilting your chin to make things easier. Your eyelids fluttered closed as he pushed himself in, the feeling of him entering your mouth almost as pleasurable as him entering you from below. You were certain nothing could ever come close to that.

It was quite difficult for you to take all of him, and whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth, your hands worked just fine. He took his time to help you both get more comfortable. He always felt terrible when you were stuck in an uncomfortable position which resulted in a horrible ache in your jaw for the next few days.

Once you both were settled, the hand on your cheek lovingly pushed a strand of hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. He smiled warmly, still trying to deliver some intimacy and romance despite wanting nothing more than to succumb to the mere feeling of your lips wrapped around his tip. You returned the gesture as best you could with your mouth being currently occupied, but the way your eyes turned into crescents translated your contentment just fine.

You began to move, and all he could do was flop back against the couch, close his eyes, and release a heavy sigh. The warm wetness of your mouth provided more than enough lubrication, as you were practically drooling at the sight of him already. You closed your eyes as well, quickly getting into a mutually comfortable rhythm. He wasn't the type to be overly vocal during sex, but you could always tell when he enjoyed something you did when it became harder for him to keep quiet. He would sigh, or groan, or if you were lucky, a small moan would escape his lips. Part of you thought that maybe, just maybe, you would eventually find the one thing that would make him be as loud as he wanted to.

Obviously it was difficult for you to talk during most of the act, but his occasional low-volume noises would keep you in your momentum. And judging by the way he was attempting to keep his hips from bucking up towards your mouth, and his hands twitching ever so slightly at his sides, you knew you were doing exactly what he wanted.

You knew he was getting close when you noticed his right hand instinctively reach up to try and hold your head, keeping it exactly where he wanted it, but he refrained, his fingers glitching indecisively next to your ear, torn between chasing his own pleasurable release and keeping you comfortable to last even longer.

But it seemed his desires had won the battle as he got closer to the edge, his hand winding itself in your hair, not pushing too hard but providing enough pressure to finish the job. You stuttered a bit at the sudden contact, but continued, perhaps due to a bit of your own chase to release as well.

He threw his head back even further, which you didn’t know was possible, as he was already resting it on the back of the couch. But he pushed his head further into the cushion, releasing a loud groan, fingers gripping your hair, unconsciously pulling you further down onto him, your hands steadying yourself on his thighs. You moaned, sending vibrations onto him as he rode the waves of his high, only heightening the experience and he gripped harder, your fingernails digging small crescents into the fabric of his pants.

He released fully into your mouth, to which you promptly pulled away and swallowed, feeling a small drop dribble down the side of your lip and onto your chin. You moved to wipe it away but he was quicker, his hand cupping your chin and wiping it off with his thumb. He then pressed his thumb against your lower lip, pushing it between them for you to suck on it, making sure you got every last drop.

A small, dreamy smile appeared on his face, a certain type of smile you’ve never seen him make before. You leaned forward again to help him get cleaned up, but he stopped you, grabbing your hand and holding it gently, his thumb softly rubbing the back of it as you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you as well. He glanced down at you through hooded eyes, figuring your sudden fatigue was due to your attempts to give him the utmost pleasure, but a lazy giggle left your lips as you felt a small patch of arousal forming in your underwear.

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This has been sitting in my drafts for a year lmao figured I'd just finish it already 😅 the ending was kinda rushed I'll admit cause it was supposed to be a blurb not a full fic so I didn't want it to get too wordy. And yes I'm still in my beta testing with writing smut lol so this might be fire it might be trash idk let me know what you think! As stated I'm still a novice so pls be nice lmao and I know it's published as a Geo fic despite his name being NOWHERE in here and I did that on purpose tbh I think that makes it more ambiguous but again it's just an experiment Taglist: @little-bit-of-mystery @nosegoes @cocteautwiny @queen-of-stars @thatgoesinthere-misshapes @harrisongslimited @hyasynth1 If you would like to be added to this list, comment on this post or send me an ask!

#george harrison #the beatles #beatles #george harrison x reader #george harrison fanfiction #the beatles x reader #the beatles fanfiction #beatles x reader #beatles fanfiction #george harrison imagine #george harrison x y/n #george harrison x you #george harrison smut

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bealtesharrisonmacca · 7 months ago

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John x reader

“Tied down”

(Idk if it should say tied down or tied up but wtv)

18+

Summary: Reader is tied to bed (willingly) and John takes full control.

You feel kisses running down your body. All the way from your mouth to your thighs. Johns lips feel like firework each time they touch you. You want to grab his hair or just hold onto him. To guide him to where you need him most. But you can’t. Your hands are tied to the bed, and so are your feet.

It has always been a fantasy of yours to be tied down, but you never dared to mention it to John. But it was actually he who brought it up during sex a while back. Well, he initially said it as a joke or as dirty talk, but your reaction to his words made him eager to try it.

And so here you were. Tied down to the bed with John hovering over you.

John’s hands getting closer and closer to your clit, but each time he got near he retracted his hands and continue kissing your body.

“Yer so wet for me, practically dripping and I’ve barely touched you yet” John says in a teasing manner.

You want so badly for him to just pound into you, but the suspense he’s building is making your back arch. He finally gives a soft kiss to your clit, causing your hips to buck against the feeling. He chuckles a bit.

John smirks at you as he lowers his face down, just above your heat. You try to push your hips to his face but you’re stuck where you are. John loves watching you beg for him. He loves to see you all worked up when he takes control.

“J-John I” you stutter, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. But you need him inside you so badly.

“What do you want love? Use yer words” John grins as his face is still just inches from you, his hands pushing your hips harder into the bed, leaving him in complete control of your body.

You reluctantly muster out the words he so badly wants to hear. “I need you John, please, I want you” The words come out loud in moans.

“Good girl” John says before pushing to fingers into you as his mouth starts working your clit. You let out a relived and satisfied moan. Your hands grab a hold of the rope that’s keeping you to the bed. Tightening your grip each time John flicks his tongue. His fingers working wonders inside you.

You feel your climax building up quicker than you thought, and John notices. He pulls his fingers out and leaves you yearning for more. A frustrated moan escapes your lips. You open your eyes to see him begin to unbuckle his belt. The bare look of his stiff cock sending shivers down your neck.

John leans over you and harshly kisses your lips as his hands goes to your breast’s. Your moans sending vibrations right to his crotch. He groans in your ear while kissing your jaw and neck. Your hands are aching to touch and feel him, but you love being at his mercy.

Without warning John slams into you, not letting you adjust before picking up a fast pace. Moans escape your mouth like a faucet. The pleasure is almost overwhelming. Your body shakes and fidgets as he thrusts forcefully inside you.

“You feel so fucking good y’know, you take my cock so well” John pants out as he stills inside you to catch his breath. You attempt pushing your hips against him but he slams you down against the bed and he thrusts inside you again. His cock filling you up so good. Your walls tighten around him as you feel yourself reaching your orgasm.

“Are ye going to cum for me love” John says as a question even though he knows you are. And with those words you let yourself go, cumming all over his cock as he continues thrusting inside you searching for his own release. You feel slightly overstimulated but after a few thrusts he cums inside you. Filling you to the brim. He pulls out as heavy breaths escapes your mouth’s. His eyes locked on your glistening pussy which is leaking with juices. He traces two fingers into your, still overstimulated, pussy, and brings his fingers to your mouth.

“Taste yourself”

You obediently start licking his fingers clean and you moan at the sensation. John loves seeing you like this. His cock nearly stiffens again at the sight.

John unties you and you immediately bring your hands to give him a tight embrace.

“I missed touching you” you say in a slight giggle and you cuddle for a while before falling into a deep sleep.

(Okey so this is my first John x reader story, hope it isn’t the worst thing in the world)

(Just a reminder, I do take requests and I’m kind of in need of some new inspiration heheh)

#john lennon #john lennon x reader #the beatles #smut #mclennon #fluff #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #John Lennon smut #60s

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emlovslennon · 8 months ago

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anotha one because holy fuck this man makes me feral.

era: 1968-early ‘69

John has been inside our bedroom for at least 2 hours, practicing the same song over and over again. The only song he actually cares about, that is. John has about completely given up on the band, but he at least there’s some energy. One thing to know about John, however, is that he HATES being interrupted. Even by his wife. But, you’ve been craving his touch for weeks, he’s hardly paid any mind, so why not take a risk?

Once you mustered up the courage, and by mustering up you put on a short, skimpy, night gown John had bought you for your second wedding anniversary and some black, see through tights. You slowly, but surely walked up to the door. It took you a good thirty seconds to actually open the door. John didn’t even look at you when you opened the door, to see you standing by the doorway barely covered.

“Johnny, please, it’s been forever. I want you.” You whimpered, too scared to be too loud.

“Y/n… What have I told you at least a thousand times? I’m working, not the time.” John warns, looking back at me. You could see on his face that a blush appeared, he bit his lip, staring you down his down like a predator finding it’s prey.

“But please, John. I promise just one time and you can go back to-“ you was quickly cut off by John nearly slamming his guitar to the ground and getting off of your shared bed to come up and grab you by the chin.

“You just don’t like listening, do you? Been a lot more bitchy lately cuz I haven’t been bedding you. Now you’re just gonna have to take whatever I fucking give you. Do you hear me, girl?” John reprimanded. You felt the heat between your legs beginning to drool and throb. This was gonna be rough, but it’s something.

John grabbed you and threw you onto the bed, you could hear the ruffling of clothes as John unbuckled his belt and undid his purple button up.

“Hands and knees. Now.” John growled, his voice was low and domineering. You actually felt, afraid in way. But it just turned you on. You never saw John like this, and you couldn’t help but like it. You instantly got up on your hands and knees, your head resting against the plush pillow underneath you. He ripped your tights down to your thighs, exposing your bottom half to him.

“You do not understand the amount of stress I’m under right now. The last thing I need is my ever so loving wife to act like a fucking dog in heat.” Johns voice got louder. Without warning, John smacked his belt against your lower half, causing you to cry out.

“John, please. ‘M wanna help you.” You murmured. John looked at you, amazed. You would really do anything for him if it means you got stuffed full of his cock, or if it made him feel better. He really won the jackpot by finding you.

“You wanna help me, baby? Well, I suppose you can. But I’m warning you now, I’m not going easy on ye. So if you need to smack me or tell to me to stop, please do.” He said, quite softly. The softness didn’t last long however, he brought he belt back to your ass again. Your cunt was glistening, wetness pooling down your thighs, aching for him.

“Holy fuck, you like this, y/n? You like how I’m marking your little ass? Huh? Your cunts crying for me.” John chuckled. You put this man in pure disbelief. You make it so hard for him to stay mad at you.

After about six more lashes from his belt, your ass was completely red and bruised. There was definitely gonna be a mark or two (or three) in the morning. Your thighs were shaking, you could feel tears wanting to escape your eyes, but you loved it. Honestly, this was so much better than just regular love making. John took his cock out of his boxers and teased you with it. You were so drenched that your wetness was pooling onto the bedsheets below. Johns mouth literally felt like watering. You were fighting the urge to grind back on him, trying to get him to go inside.

“Almost forgot, baby. Need to stretch ya out.” John mumbled under his breath. He put two fingers into your drooling cunt without warning. Your sighs turned into cries as he scissored you fast and quick. Your heart was pounding, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The pleasure was unbearable.

“Fuck, such a good little girl, you are. Taking everything I give you. My obedient little whore. I fucking love it.” John praised. The praises made you moan louder, the squelching noises from your cunt more than audible.

“John, fuck, please, please.” You begged. Your voice pathetically hoarse from your cries.

“Gonna need more convincing than that. That’s pathetic.” John said. You cried out again when his fingers continually hit your sweet spot.

“John please fuck me. I need you so badly, I’ll be so good please. ‘M so wet for you.” You begged. God, it was dirty, so pathetic. But oh my god. You loved it so much. John almost burst when he heard you beg. He swore it was the hottest thing he had ever heard in his life. John spent no time thrusting his whole length inside you. Giving you no time to adjust.

You screamed at the intrusion. John pounded you like it was last fuck on earth. All the stress from the rehearsals and the rocky friendship with Paul gone away. All he could think about was making his good girl cum. (And himself, duh). You were so, so good to him.

“Yeah, that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Lemme hear how good I fuck you.” John demanded. If you weren’t already screaming the house down, you sure as hell were now. Johns cock hit all the right places inside you. But, fuck. He was relentless.

“J-john, s-slow down!” You yelled out. John slapped your ass in response, causing you to cry out.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can. Come on, fucking take it.” John grunted. You turned to look at him. He looked fucking mesmerizing. Sweat was all down his chest and all over his face, his long hair stuck to his forehead and messy. He was biting his lip and he gotten rid of his glasses. He looked like a god.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer to your sweet release. John caught you staring and gave you a smirk and playful slap to your ass, causing you to gasp. You attempted to look away but John grabbed you once again and flipped you over, so you were underneath him. He pulled you down and pinned your arms above your head, and continued to pound into you. Your thighs and poor cunt started to get sore from the rough treatment, but you can’t say you were complaining in the slightest.

“J-john, I-I-“ you panted. You couldn’t even properly form words anymore. John was fucking you way too good, to the point of being brainless.

“Aw, can’t speak, baby? Is Johnny fucking you too good? Huh? Wanna cum? My angel wants to cum?” John cooed. His hand caressing your cheek as he kissed your forehead. Even if this started because he undeniably pissed, he still couldn’t help but fawn over his beautiful girl. All his.

All you could do was nod. John was thinking about teasing you a bit more and edging you, but you’ve done way too good for him. It just wouldn’t be fair.

“Come on, y/n. Cum for me. Fuck.” John moaned. The squelching sound from your cunt intensified, and you felt an even more overpowering feeling than just a “regular” orgasm. Your weak cries turned into screams as you squirted all onto Johns cock and bedsheets. John stopped his thrusting and watched. Not only was he shocked, he was internally proud of himself.

“What a good fucking girl. Look at that.” John whispered in awe. You were trembling and had tears running down your face, your mascara was staining your cheeks. It pulled at Johns heartstrings. He felt awful now.

“Y/n…Are you okay? Honey, I’m sorry. I’ll clean you up.” Before he could get up and grab a towel, you quickly grabbed his arm.

“No, need you to cum in me. Please. ‘M wanna make you feel good.” You begged weakly. John was taken aback, but smirked as he pinned back to the bed, his hand lightly grasping your neck as he began to pound himself inside you again. You ached as you felt so overstimulated, but you wanted him to get his release. He deserved one too.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum. Just wait a little longer baby.” He grunted. His grunts becoming louder and his pants increasing. He was fucking hot. John let out a strangled moan as he filled you up to the brim. He slowly let his weight fall on top of you. His hair fell to each side of your face.

“T-thank you.” You whisper to him. John looks up, smiling sweetly. He slowly pulls out of you and looks at his cum dripping from your abused cunt.

“Honey, really. If I hurt you, I’m sorry. You’re so precious to me. I hope you know that.” John said with genuine sympathy. You grasped his hand and nuzzled into his chest.

“No, please. Let’s do that more often.”

Needless to say, John took note of that.

Needless to say, i let out some steam and some sexual frustration in this so uhm enjoy HAHSHS.

#classic rock #classic rock imagines #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #the beatles x reader #60s #john lennon x reader #john lennon smut

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warnersister · 1 year ago

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Gonna give you a baby (smut)

The Beatles x Reader, Paul McCartney x Wife! Reader

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

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

Requested by: @jill-smith-123

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was the problem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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