#george x paul

[peaceloveandstarrs]

McHarrison, 43

are you sure this is your first time?

(AN: this is long, i apologize! lol)

WARNING: NSFW

“Bloody cord, c’mon…”

Paul fiddled with the cord on his bass, kneeling in front of it to get a better look at the jack. The band was preparing to rehearse for their upcoming appearance on some television show to promote their new album. They’d done so many of them lately that they were having a hard time remembering what the shows were called. Not that it really mattered. They would play a couple of songs, maybe talk to the host after, then go back to their rooms. And for this trip, Paul was sharing with George. 

That was lucky, really, because he’d been spending some intimate time with George when they could be alone. They hadn’t done much yet, just wanking each other off after a heated snog against the wall or on the bed. And while their wanks were satisfying, Paul was beginning to want more. He found himself wondering what George felt like in his mouth. What he tasted like. What his cum would feel like in his mouth and throat.

Paul shook his head. He was still accepting his attraction to another man, so the idea of sucking George off was a bit unnerving. But at the same time, it was incredibly hot. Paul squirmed, trying not to get himself too worked up before rehearsal. The more he tried to stop it, the more difficult it became to get the memory of George’s deep moan out of his head. The way his back arched as he came, the way he swore as he got close… fuck. 

“Focus,” Paul scolded himself. 

He plugged the bass into the amp and started to stand, only to find himself face-to-face with someone’s crotch. Paul swallowed hard as he looked up and saw just whose it was. 

George’s.

He shifted uncomfortably as he felt his cock twitch with interest in his trousers. God, what he wouldn’t give to be able to act on his fantasy right here, right now. Just… pull George into some secluded area, get on his knees, and suck him off. But there was one problem. He’d never done it before. Sure, he’d gotten plenty of blowjobs from birds over the years. But this was his first time being this intimate with a man. What if he was bad at it? He chewed at his fingernail as his anxiety began to build.

No. He wasn’t going to go down that spiral. He knew what kinds of touches George liked, surely it’d be similar with his mouth. Suddenly his mind was flooded with all sorts of sinful images… George’s hands in Paul’s hair as Paul sucked him off. George moaning and swearing as his back arched up off the bed. George cumming into Paul’s mouth, pulling Paul’s hair…Paul felt himself stiffening in his trousers. 

“Somethin’ on yer mind?” George teased when he looked down and saw the growing bulge in Paul’s trousers. He gave Paul a wicked smirk, which didn’t help the situation. George’s confidence was one of the sexiest things about him, after all.

Paul quickly stood before anyone could catch him in the rather compromising position. After all, what would the others think if they saw Paul on his knees in front of George with George smirking at him? He carefully covered his bulge with his hands. To anyone walking by, it would look like an innocent, casual conversation between bandmates, probably about the songs or something. But George and Paul knew better. Added to the eroticism, if Paul was honest with himself.

It was now or never, Paul told himself. He swallowed hard and leaned in closer to George. “There’s something I wanna try when we get done here,” he whispered, subtly raising his eyebrows before leaning back and going to his bass. 

George was intrigued. What did Paul, who wasn’t as secure in his attraction to men, want to do? Before he could get too carried away, they were called to get into position. Good timing. George put on his guitar and focused all of his attention on the rehearsal as well as he could, which was a challenge given Paul’s tease. 

Fortunately for Paul and George, they were able to remain focused enough on the music to prevent anyone from asking questions. They made the quick trip back to the hotel after dodging the onslaught of fans that had found out where the rehearsal was and stayed out there hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite band. 

Paul made it to the room first, George following closely behind. He locked the door behind him, turning to face Paul. A visibly nervous Paul. 

“So. Ye wanted to try somethin’?”

Paul nodded and rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs. “I did. I wanted to - to try sucking ye off,” he stammered. 

George looked at Paul, taken aback by the bluntness. It wasn’t typical; Paul tended to dance around things he wasn’t completely comfortable with. But perhaps because it was the two of them, Paul felt safe saying it. George felt a rush of affection for the man. 

“Ever done it before?” George asked as he headed towards the bed and beckoned Paul to join him.  Paul shook his head, joining George on the bed. He looked down. George was already half hard, probably from thinking about getting a blow job. “First, ye gotta relax. It’s just me.” 

Paul nodded again and leaned in for a kiss. Something he knew he was good at, something that would help his mind shut off and stay in the moment. The kiss started slow, but it wasn’t long before they were making out, Paul on top of George, shirts off and tongues exploring as they rubbed their clothed cocks together. He could feel George’s hardness pressing against his own and knew it was time. He pulled away, kissing down George’s chest as his hands fumbled with the buttons on George’s jeans.

“Here. This’ll make it easier.” George moved to sit on the edge of the bed, taking off his jeans and pulling down his underpants. Paul took a deep breath as George’s erection stood against his stomach. That was going in his mouth. And George was a bit bigger than average. “On your knees…”

The command was gentle, but Paul felt compelled to obey. He got down on his knees and thought. George always reacted strongly to touch on the tip. So, Paul kissed the tip softly, glancing up at George before beginning to suckle on it. George gasped, a sign for Paul to keep going. Paul began to take George into his mouth. He never felt teeth when he’d gotten sucked off, so he covered his with his lips as he went from experience, slowly bobbing his head a little. George moaned softly as Paul flattened his tongue. Okay, so that was good. 

It wasn’t terrible, just odd. George’s cock was hard and heavy on his mouth, and Paul’s instinct was to gag as he went further down. When it was too much, Paul wrapped his hand around the base. George always reacted well to touch, so Paul tried his best to stroke his lover’s cock in time with the slow, firm sucks. George swore as the combination of touch and tongue sent waves of pleasure through his entire body. 

“Fuck…” George moaned. “Are - are you sure this is your first time? Because… oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, Paul… more… please…” 

Who was Paul to disobey? George’s moans and gasps fueled his confidence, and he began to speed up his motions, sloppily running his tongue along a vein on the underside of George’s cock. George moaned almost constantly, swearing… and then Paul felt George’s body tense. Which meant… he was close to cumming. The idea of swallowing wasn’t appealing. Not yet, at least. But he didn’t want to disappoint…

Fortunately, George was somehow able to sense Paul’s discomfort. He pulled out of Paul’s mouth, leaving Paul to stroke him off with his own saliva as the lube. He looked up, silently thanking George as he skillfully stroked him, paying attention to all of George’s most sensitive places. And then… with a shout, George came, back arching as he spurt hot and white over his stomach and Paul’s hand. Paul reached down with his free hand, palming himself. God. He was achingly hard… but he pushed that to the back of his mind as he stroked George through the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

“Shit…” George breathed once his pleasure had subsided and he was able to talk again. “Had no idea ye could do that…”

“Neither, uh, neither did I,” Paul admitted. Feeling a bit more secure, he made a show of palming his erection through his trousers. 

“Proud of ye,” George teased. He wiggled his eyebrows and patted the bed beside him. “Now… I’d like to return the favour….”

#mcharrison #paul x george #george x paul #beatles fanfiction #beatles fanfic #beatles slash

[reggieslocket]

ah yes the inherent homoeroticism of taking the cigarette out of your friend's mouth

#kill your darlings #kill your darlings 2013 #kill your darlings movie #lucien carr #allen ginsberg #lucien x allen #allen x lucien #daniel radcliffe #dane dehaan #munich the edge of war #hugh legat #paul von hartman #hugh x paul #paul x hugh #jannis niewöhner #george mackay #dark academia #dark academia movies

[beatleswings]

Promo for ERAS: THE BEATLES on BBC SOUNDS. (x)

#i loved this promo so had to gif it! #the greeting from live at the bbc from 1963 #and the pics by i think it's harry goodwin #feel free to correct me #oh and click on the x for the link to the video #:) #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #1960s #60s #my gifs #beatlesedit #thebeatlesedit

[margueritedaisies]

McHarrison and my obsession for Mcbeardy (projrcting it on George lol)

@cherriiramen this was what Ive been telling you about btw

Based on one fic I read here on tumblr

#mcharrison #paul/george #paul mccartney x george harrison #beatles #the beatles #beatles slash #beatles shipping #the beatles fanart #beatles fanart #mcbeardy #paul mcbeardy

[ssl0t]

If you don’t let me suck your dick I’m gonna kms

#george harrison #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #60s #the beatles x reader #beatlemania #John Lennon #i’m so down bad #if you don’t let me suck your suck dick #arrrrrrrgh

[iheartjohnlennon]

'Let me take you down'

London, '66

Summary: John and Paul see the same so John and Paul share the same (you).

Word count: 3,054

Tags: Smut, Threesome, Unrequited Love

The lounge was adorned with light, drugs, and music. The holy trinity of joy.

The light was more a metaphorical one. But no one had caught your eye, personally.

You had caught a few though.

Through your peripheral vision, you saw John Lennon slightly sauntering towards you.

A cig in hand, flirtation on standby and a smile that would make most of his thirteen-year-old army piss themselves with happiness.

Finally, you thought to yourself. 

He can now stop undressing you with his eyes or making passing comments.

You knew he wanted you, you've known that for a while now. 

You also know of his other half, his bandmate, Paul. He gives you eyes as well.

But you try not to pay Paul any romantic mind because he gouges his eyes out for any woman he sees anyways.

"Well 'ello love." John speaks in a chipper tone, he sits beside you, not even asking if the seat is taken.

His cockiness shines through as he rubs against you, you turn fully to look at him.

"John." You don't give anything up, you won't make it easy.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He strokes your chin, he seems disappointed you aren't on your knees from the first hello. 

You scoffed, "Quiet? We've been speaking for seconds John." 

"Ye know wha' I mean.." He rolls his eyes, he didn't like how dismissive you were sometimes.

John always had a simple philosophy of flirt then fuck, which clearly didn't seem to work a hundred percent of the time.

"Why's a bird like you, 'ere alone?" How classic.

"Because I came here alone."

"Well, no shit."

"Don't get rude."

"Not gettin' rude lovely." He took a puff of his cig.

A voice interrupted your little squabble, it was a familiar one, "I reckon he's tryin' to call ya beautiful."

You saw the charming face that matched.

"Which ya are by the way," Paul added with a smirk.

He stood before you both. His hair was dishevelled and he smelled delicious. 

"Alrigh' McCharmly she gets it, fuckin' 'ell." John spoke with an acute bitterness in his tone. He wasn't prepared to let you go yet, especially not to Paul.

"Ha, well, anyways I came here to ask if yous wanted to smoke some grass."

So that's what that aroma was, the one that hypnotized you to no end.

And 'yous'. He wanted you both.

As much as you preferred Paul's company over John's, you were intrigued by this offer of having both of them at the same time, smoking.

"Wha', you wanna smoke 'ere?" John questioned.

"Not really, follow me." Paul palmed your hand in his with a warm smile as John placed his hand on your back possessively.

~

They both ushered you through the bar area upstairs, into some sort of chamber.

It was abundantly less lively than the former and had harmonious jazz playing in the background as opposed to some soft rock.

Everyone looked like they were on something, good and bad. You felt intimidated. John and Paul knew this scene more than you, even though you came to the lounge often.

"Welcome!" Paul began, "Make yerselves at home I suppose, I'll be back."

You and John were oddly close on the sofa. Physically because his arm was loosely around your waist and emotionally because his eyes were intensely on yours.

Maybe it was the music, the lighting, or his flirting that made you yearn for more than just his gaze.

He took your chin in his fingers, "Yer beautiful, ye know that?"

"Do you need me to know that?"

"I'll tell you every day if I can."

John shifted his head, it was on a tilt as if he was going to kiss you. You were happy to oblige, but a vigorous Paul interrupted you both. Again.

He strode in with a plastic baggy filled with weed, rolling paper, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. This could be an undoubtedly long night.

~

Paul placed himself beside you, now you were nicely in between the pair. 

"We'll share one blunt and do a pass around." John affirmed.

"Yeah, an' Y/N will roll 'em 'cause she has tiny, cute fingers." You adored the way Paul tickled your hands after saying that. You sent him a smile and he sat back, hand tracing circles on your back.

You didn't smoke weed often but didn't find it hard to roll the blunt.

"Good girl." John whispered, giving you a smirk.

"Have a light?" You asked no one in particular.

"Sure thing." 

Paul reached into his pocket and fished out a light, he held the blunt between your lips childishly and held your jaw as it lit.

You took in a puff and immediately felt inundated with pleasure and simultaneous dizziness.

You sat down but felt like you were stumbling on a circus wire. You turned to John and Paul, their faces were now just attractive blurs.

You cleared your throat heavily after inhaling more.

"Ladies first." John chuckled.

"Easy there, you ok?" Paul asked patting your back.

"Absolutely sublime." You sneer whilst inhaling even more. You could feel your face getting hot and your vision getting more skewed.

You had enough and passed it on to Paul. This was nothing new and as he took a puff he looked at you with contentment.

His hand was still on your back, rubbing up and down. 

He passed the blunt onto John.

He held your shoulders and began with a lustrous look in his eyes, "I want to kiss ya, lemme kiss ya Y/N?"

You could only nod in response before Paul lay a warm kiss on your lips, his tongue exploring yours as he replaced John's arm with his.

"Slag." John mumbled.

Your noses touched, your tongues tasted and your chests collided as Paul kept his devoted pace.

John watched you and Paul make out whilst longingly taking swigs from the whiskey.

John was watching with a peculiar fixation. He loved the way you groaned as Paul bit your lip, he loved the way you squirmed with each wet kiss.

This was peculiarly turning him on.

Paul met John's eyes for a moment whilst in the middle of necking on with you.

He felt bad for the fella, he was in this cuckold, which wasn't a cuckold because John isn't with you, but still.

Paul stopped kissing you, you sighed craving more of him.

"Can I share ya?" Paul mused to your bewilderment.

"Hm?"

"Sorry, I meant can we share ya?"

"Hm-".

You were overwhelmed with such a flabbergasting joke. You were stopped in your tracks by such a crude joke.

Or?

Was Paul asking for a ménage à trois right now?

John sniggered from beside you, "He's not good with his words, is he? It seems like he wants a threesome, well- we." 

This was convenient. You could all find somewhere private, knew each other well and were as horny as it seems.

Paul spoke, "Ya know, ya really don't have-" 

"I want to." Your eagerness came out as you interrupted him to accept.

Paul put on a grin. He had you where he wanted you.

"We'll take this somewhere more private after you neck on with John."

You did somewhat like John. And you supposed he would have fucked you eventually, but certainly not in this circumstance.

Paul playfully pushed your head towards John's and whispered, "C'mon baby ya know ya want to, I see the way ya look at him."

Before you could even formulate a response, John was already on you. He grasped the back of your head and immediately placed his lips on yours.

His tongue and teeth collided with yours, you could taste each drop of whiskey on him.

Paul smoked and watched with lidded eyes.

John gripped your waist with both hands, his kissing was passionate and abrasive. He groaned, he was properly getting off to this. He got rougher, pushing you into the sofa.

"Alrigh', alrigh' don't kill 'er." Paul cracked up whilst separating you both.

Paul's kiss contrasted with John's. Your lips felt all puffy after John, he looked at you smugly. You couldn't tell the difference between John making you dizzy and what you were smoking.

Paul's task was over and the men on either side of you gave each other a knowing look.

~

You all rushed down the stairs quicker than a blink.

They were all over you the moment the driver set his eyes on the road. You didn't care if the driver was watching, or hearing. You had two pairs of hands on you. Yanks and grabs were all you felt the whole way through. Paul was in one ear and John was in the other.

Paul attacked your neck with smooches and sucks, you giggled girlishly at the feel. 

John buried his face in your breasts and all but tried to leave marks on your chest.

You felt their hands travel down further, like waist down further. You halted their efforts to dually finger you in the back of some car and cautiously mumbled, "Later, later.."

A triad of soft moans and silly giggles continuously echoed in the car, you were sure the driver was sick of you all now.

"Are we nearly there yet?" You said dramatically.

"We arrived minutes ago you daft girl." John laughed.

Jesus, now you were dazed.

Paul began, "Shall we?"

~

The driver didn't bother to say goodbye and drove off with a scowl.

You all sounded hysterical whilst rushing to Paul's hotel room.

The hallway was closing in on you. Paul had his key in hand and fumbled with the lock, John had your ass in his. 

"Any slower McCharmly?" You jested.

"I'll go faster when it's convenient Y/N." 

With his dirty quip and the push of a door, you eventually entered.

Before you could even close the door behind you the duo was still all over you. You felt so many hands it was as if you were crowd surfing. They were taking small bits of clothing off, like ties and shoes, and somehow still found focus on you.

"We aren't even on the bed yet you animals." You whined.

"I'll 'ave ye anywhere." John retorted.

"A bed? Let's get on the bed then princess." Paul cooed, bringing you up to your feet properly.

You couldn't even get on the bed without feeling gropes and pinches all over you. You got on top of the thing and slouched back, in a relaxed position.

Paul made his way on top of you and John got on the side, laying by you. 

Paul confidently took off your articles of clothing. He carelessly tossed your heels on the floor and began working to get your tights and skirt off.

John almost immediately mouthed you in that same rough manner again. He held onto the back of your head, making sure you wouldn't pull back. He took his kiss lower, to your jaw. Lower, to your neck. Lower, to your chest. He dragged your shirt up, so eager to have a taste he couldn't even pause to unhook your bra.

He sucked and fondled your breasts. You let out chortled moans as the ticklish splendour of him using his teeth to nibble and his tongue to swirl drove you over the edge.

"Fuck John-" You seized his hair in your hands, raking through it, drawing him closer. He swapped sides and moved onto the other breast.

The way your body writhed as John sucked you off made it fidgety for Paul to get your bottom half off. He managed in the end and wasted no time in taking an interest in your silk panties.

"Ooo, these are pretty... pretty Y/N.." He marvelled, tracing a maddening thumb over your clit.

As John proceeded with his kissing assault to your top half, Paul took his head to your lower regions. He licked your clit through the panties and teasingly gave it a kiss. 

Then you felt Paul pull your panties aside. He slipped a finger into you and began a come-hither motion inside of you whilst also giving you little flicks with his tongue.

You frolicked around in ecstasy, you were reaching a boiling point from having both successes on your cunt at the same time. You could've cum from this alone, but you comprehended this was going to be a long night.

Your moans only rose louder, they turned into cries, you could feel yourself pulsing. Paul is damned good with his mouth. 

He moved his head off you, leaving you wet and wanting. John also did the same, looking down on you triumphantly.

"Oh Paul...Oh John..." You sighed pleasantly.

The two gave each other another knowing look, you rolled your eyes, "What is it this time?" You flirted.

"Nothin' love, we're jus'...wonderin' ya know." Paul spoke back.

"Wondering about what?" You mused, turning on your stomach.

"How good ya are.." Paul whispered.

"How good I am what?" You question, confused.

John suddenly mocked, "Bloody 'ell Paul, carn't stop speakin' in bloody metaphors can ye?" 

"Awe, I think he's just a bit muddled from what he had earlier Johnny." You tittered.

Paul interrupted, "Righ' I'll get to the point then shall I? We wanna take ya from both ends." 

"You don't have to present everything like a business proposition Paulie." You laughed, getting into a doggy position. 

"Ya are our business Y/N." John enunciated. 

~

Their positions were determined. Paul was behind you and John lay on his back in front of you. You got in between his legs, lowered down on your elbows, and greeted his clothed cock with a kiss.

You could feel him growing stiff as you worked to pull down his trousers, then his boxers.

Before Paul could put anything in, he was working to get fully naked.

John would have preferred fucking you from behind but he felt like the guest star, being all lounged back, receiving attention from your mouth.

You got his trousers off, then his boxers, you received a happy welcome. 

He met your eyes and snatched your hair in his hands. "Yer beautiful...so beautiful..." John murmured, stroking a thumb across your lips. 

"Isn't she." Paul chirped in, guiding his cock towards your entrance, in a reverie, all imperceptive and seductive. 

You practically shivered at the intention, his first thrust was unreal, different to any cock you had felt before, maybe because it was him. 

His cock naturally felt more distinct than his fingers. Its thickness caressed your vaginal canal and provided tinges to your G-spot via the tip. 

He sped up the moment he got that first feel, moving you forward before you could even fit the latter into your mouth, the impulsive movement causing you to brush your face against his cock as opposed to sucking. 

"Mmmph, mmm." Paul moaned. 

"Fuck- fuck-" was all you could muster as John watched in amusement. He gave himself a few tugs before discovering great solace in your lips. 

He bobbed you up and down, vulgarisms rang from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around the top inches and used your hands to trace what your throat wasn't handling. 

"Fuckin' 'ell Y/N...fuckin' 'ell...keep goin' baby, jus' like tha'..." John's head lulled back in fulfilment, he honoured you to high heaven and was for the time thankful Paul was here, as every thrust he gave you caused your moans to vibrate onto his cock. 

~

You were all moaning messes, utterly void of any emotion apart from pleasure and whatever emotion you would call being under the influence. 

You were being rag-dolled back and forth and wished for every bit of it. 

John's hand got tighter but his once consistent up-and-down movement got sloppier, his hips moved up lightly, trying to get as much of you on his cock as humanely possible. 

He was balls deep within your mouth, you were taking in a nose full of his pubic hair. "Yer goin' to make me cum- Jesus Christ Y/N!" His words were still riddled with praise and hastiness as his free hand palmed your tits. He grunted as each movement he made caused the sensitive tip to touch the back of your throat. 

You relished in providing John pleasure. 

Paul had only gotten harsher, the space was mainly filled with the moist sounds of Paul penetrating you, the viscosity you two had produced felt mouthwatering.

"Ya like it when I go faster don't ya? Tell Paulie you like it when he goes faster." He uttered. 

His strokes were paired with that voice off his and as he arrived close, he all but cooed, "Like tha' Y/N? Like tha' baby?"

You turned your head back at him for a moment, he greeted you with a cocky, yet lovely smile. His hair was all messy and he was flushed with colour. 

You could feel him precisely hitting and caring for every nerve inside of you, with his hands tugging on your hips and his pelvis meeting your ass.

And as much as you rasped out John's name, you couldn't help but pull him out of your mouth, only subtly, just to stammer out Paul's. 

You felt an exhilaration coming from all senses. John let out a definitive moan, finally releasing into the back of your throat. The consistency made you feel naughty, you spat some back out only to lick it off his cock again, the slight overstimulation drove him mad, "Shit- fuck...Y/N...slag..." 

Almost on command, Paul did the same. You felt his cum shooting into you, a liquid bullet. He moved in slightly, shoving his semen to the innermost part of you, moaning yeahs and ooos. 

He trembled as you clenched around him. 

 ~

Paul changed positions off of you and so did John. You all looked like orgasmic chaos. 

You felt hit with weakness after that, you signalled to them that maybe it was time to rest. 

~

You were in between them. Paul spooned you, seemingly falling asleep the fastest, probably because he smoked the most. 

John was facing you, muttering sweet whatevers and giving you smooches along your chest. 

It's as if your souls intertwined with one another as you all simultaneously climaxed, you pondered. 

"I love you." You whispered to no one specifically.

#paul mccartney x reader #the beatles #60s rock #the beatles imagine #the beatles x reader #the beatles smuts #john lennon #john lennon x reader #vintage #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #Spotify

[japage3moondog]

Headcanons for the Beatles with a reader who's super sleepy all the time?

as someone who's staying up irresponsibly late and knows they will eat shit for it in the morning, this is very fitting. oh my gosh can you tell how much i love paul.

john lennon

john is the most likely to pour water on you if you look too tired. he will be a dick about it. there are some sweet moments though, like he really enjoys when you rest your head on his shoulder and fall asleep. he likes knowing that you trust him or at least that his shoulders are comfortable.

his solution is to bring you a cup of coffee in the mornings to level the playing field a little. sometimes he will use salt instead of sugar just to keep you on your toes, though a lot of the time you're too tired to notice until you hear him giggling.

paul macca

if you even look a little bit out of it paul will check if you're okay. when he finds out your just tired, he'll let you rest you head on his shoulder or lie in his lap for a quick power nap. he will make fun of you a little bit but nothing more than the playful tease.

as it happens more often, he gets really really worried. he asks you about it but he's very concious of bombarding you with questions so he mostly keeps quiet. when you tell him that it's just how you are, he's so relieved.

george harrison

george 100% indulges your sleepiness. he's a very chill dude and he doesn't mind matching your low energy. he will play you gentle lullabies on the guitar or run his fingers through your hair and just let you rest. he keeps his lullabies for you in the back of his song book and he gets super excited when he's sees you about to nod off and he has a new one. he will sprint to you to be able to play it to you before you get deliriously tired.

ringo starr

ringo is a bit of a loud guy, especially since he's super comfortable around you so it's a bit hard to be sleepy around him when he's yelling and mucking about. when you truly are too exhausted to keep up with him he doesn't really know what to do. he'll try to amp you up but you will definitely end up asleep on the floor. don't worry because he'll carry you to the couch so you can take a nap.

eventually he does start to adjust once he gets a better grasp of your limits and he likes you best when you're well rested, or as well rested as your capable of.

#john lennon x reader #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #ringo starr x reader #the beatles x reader

[johnlennonswifey]

Since I haven’t been posting, I’ve decided I’ll make a little list of some of my favorite fics!!

🎸= All time fav

——

THE BEATLES-

John Lennon

70s!John x Reader 🎸

Mustache John x Reader

Paul McCartney

Paul x Reader (love letter) 🎸

Paul x Reader (Part 2 of 2)

George Harrison

Jealous!George x Reader 🎸(literally my fav fic ever)

Comfort!George x Reader

George x Reader (somewhat Friends to lovers?)

Ringo Starr

Teddy Boy!Ringo x Reader

Ringo x Assistant!Reader

Ringo x Reader (fluffy)

Ringo x Reader (Married, dinner with parents)🎸

QUEEN-

Roger Taylor

Roger x Reader (childhood friends to lovers)🎸

Roger x Reader (fluff)

Roger x Reader (fluff and more,(Roger gets hurt)) 🎸

John Deacon

John x Reader (John is readers handyman, I love this fic with all my heart pls read it)🎸

John x Reader (Series, 6/10 parts are out, I definitely recommend reading)🎸

Brian May

Brian x Reader (fluff)

Brian x Reader (Queen becomes a Hit)🎸

Brian x Reader (fluff)

Blurbs-

Beatles Blurb

#the beatles #the beatles x reader #john lennon x reader #ringo starr x reader #the beatles imagine #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #brian may x reader #john deacon x reader #roger taylor x reader #queen band

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

---------------------------------------

A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@cowgorls

(Pls message if you want to be added/removed from my permanent/oneshot/chapter fic tag lists!)

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #x reader #fem reader

[emlovslennon]

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

[peaceloveandstarrs]

50, McHarrison.

out of love

George figures he doesn't stand a chance. Which is really unusual, given his quiet confidence. If this were as simple as going out and finding a shag for the night, George knew he wouldn't have any trouble. He's attractive, and he knows it. He has the face of a movie star, all chiseled cheekbones and impeccable bone structure. And he's long and lean. And he has the bonus of being a Beatle. People throw themselves at him just for the chance to say they've shagged a member of the most famous band in the world. No, George doesn't have any trouble finding a partner to get off with.

But this is different. His one-night stands don't have emotion attached to them. He'll give the other person a good night and leave the next day without a second thought. But this time, he's also in love with the person he has in mind. Which is where the complications come in. Because George is also certain that this person is in love with someone else. Hence why he's sure that he doesn't stand a chance.

George is in love with one of his bandmates.

Not Ringo.

Not John.

George is in love with Paul. He hates himself for it sometimes. It's wrong to be in love with another man. He's supposed to love a woman. Men don't love men, not in this sense at least. And there's a second layer of shame. He's almost positive Paul is in love with John. Hell, they might even be having some sort of private affair. There's something there, affair or not. It's obvious. He sees the way those two look at each other in the studio, during performances, at any given opportunity. He sees the way Paul's eyes gleam with a deep joy when John gives him a smile or a compliment on some lyric or riff or something. And he wishes Paul would look at him like that.

Sometimes he does, and George gets a flicker of hope. Maybe he isn't stupid. But then it'll go right back to how it was, Paul treating him like the baby of the group. It's frustrating; George is growing as a musician and songwriter, why doesn't Paul give him the same praise he does John? Paul's back and forth nature is torture. Does he love George? Does he not? Or is he in love with John and trying to hide some sort of feeling? George drives himself mental trying to figure it out.

One day, it gets to be too much. He has to know. Does Paul love him too, or should he start trying to move on? He remembers that girl from the train scenes in A Hard Day's Night. Pattie, was it? Yeah. If this doesn't work out in his favour, maybe he could find her number and try to reconnect with her. Or see if Brian could get it for him. She was sweet, a pretty young bird. Nice figure too. And she was very keen on him during filming. But he pushes Pattie out of his mind and refocuses on the session. It's winding down; everyone's ready to go home.

“Cyn keeps going on about how Jules is missing me,” John says as he packs up his guitar.

“Ye know he does,” Ringo says as he slips into his coat. “Kids need their dads. Granted...” He huffs a laugh, he knows both of their stories. But he also knows he's right.

John just shakes his head as the two of them head out of the studio. Meanwhile, George ignores their conversation. He's alone with Paul. And something tells him to go for it, to take the chance. He takes one last long sip of his drink to boost his courage. He packs up his guitar, suddenly nervous. He goes quiet.

“Ye alright, Hazza?” Paul asks.

George turns when he hears the old nickname, a relic from their Hamburg days. It's been a while since Paul's used it. Maybe it's a sign. He closes the case on his guitar and stands. It's now or never. He walks over to Paul, muscles moving involuntarily, like he's in a daze. And he sort of is, fueled by the two glasses of white wine he's had as well as tiredness. But he has to do this. If he doesn't now, he'll never do it.

“I've... fuck. I don't know how else to say this, but I've been wanting to do this for ages now. I know I'm not John, but...”

Paul furrows his brow and closes his case. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It feels so good. Paul's lips are soft, only slightly chapped. But still so wonderful. George lets it linger, waiting for Paul to push him away, tell him he's mental. But he doesn't. When he feels like it's okay, George kisses him again. And again. And to his own shock, Paul kisses him back. It takes a few tries, but they find that rhythm. Paul tastes of whiskey and cigarettes and something uniquely Paul. And it's delicious. A rare delicacy. Something George can't get enough of. After a few moments, George pulls back. Paul is speechless, staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“This.”

In two strides, George has Paul against the wall. He isn't pressing against him to keep him there, this isn't that kind of kiss. But he's right in front of him, and for whatever reason, be it desire, curiosity, or something else, Paul isn't moving. He sees the the shock in Paul's eyes and almost stops. But there's something else there too. A silent urging in those wide eyes – please keep going. Before he can back out, George presses his lips softly against Paul's and stays there for a moment.

For a moment, George is proud. He's managed to shut up the ever-talkative Paul McCartney. But something needs to be said. So he says the three words that have been on his lips and in his mind for ages.

“I love you.”

#mcharrison #george x paul #paul x george #beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction

[lick-me-lennon22]

How they'd react to an ordinary reader/reader who doesn't know them

(big thanks to anon for this request!! I tried my very best 💕 I hope this is what you were looking for ✨️ enjoy!)

John

John would be incredulous at first, wondering how on Earth you didn't realize who he is

it would take him a moment to recover from that blow to his ego

once he does, however, he realizes he's stumbled upon a golden opportunity to mess with you

he'd regale you with elaborate and nonsensical tales of his past - so outlandish, not even a child would believe a word he'd said

you'd be skeptical but play along, asking questions and feigning great curiosity about his (clearly made-up) backstory

John would come to admire your individuality and respect your rare ability to stay true to yourself

he'd enjoy challenging your thoughts and ideas, dropping by often to spark witty debates and intellectual discussions with you over a cuppa

Paul

Paul is surprisingly endeared to your ignorance of his fame, finding you charmingly aloof

he approaches you with curiosity and warmth, eager to learn more about your interests and passions

he finds he is able to relax a bit, no longer having to bear the weight of pressure fans' expectations place on him

he'd share with you stories from his own life, careful not to divulge anything too wild in his pursuit to find common ground

Paul quickly grows to appreciate your creativity and unique perspective

he often invites you to come down to the studio with him and be a test audience for new melodies/song ideas

sometimes he'll request songwriting critiques from you just so he can hear your voice as you speak your mind freely to him, gazing at you with a dreamy look in his eyes

George

upon realizing that you don't seem to recognize him, George breathes out a sigh of relief

to him, you're a breath of fresh air amidst the deafening crowds and bustling mobs of fans and press alike

he really resonates with your introspective nature and individuality, respecting your withdrawn lifestyle

over time, he begins to open up around you and abandon his shyness a bit

you're privy to a more talkative side of George, a rare sight and a far cry from his usual quiet and reserved demeanor

he takes great interest in your passions, asking questions to gain a better understanding of the inner workings of your mind

he listens to every song and reads every book to recommend to him, always one to broaden his horizons and look at things from a new perspective

Ringo

Ringo first approaches you with his trademark warmth and humor, radiating confidence and passion

eventually making the connection that you don't seem to recognize him, he feels himself growing shy

usually, his career is his go-to talking point

regardless, he does his best to entertain you by sharing anecdotes from his colorful life

though you suspect some exaggeration, you find yourself charmed by the man's embellished stories and are happy to lend an ear

Ringo would come to enjoy your refreshing take on life and want to accompany you everywhere, no matter the occasion

the two of you share many new experiences and adventures together, discovering more about yourselves and one another

#the beatles #beatles #beatles imagines #beatles x reader #the beatles x reader #john lennon x reader #john lennon #john lennon imagines #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney imagines #paul mccartney #george harrison x reader #george harrison imagines #george harrison #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr imagines #ringo starr #richard starkey #headcanon #LMLBeatles

[sterredem]

Masterlist

Sterredem

* written for

Formula 1

Charles leclerc *

Carlos Sainz

Lando Norris *

Oscar piastri *

Max Verstappen

Pierre gasly

Esteban ocan

Lance stroll

Yuki tsunado

Alex albon

Logan Sargent

Zhou Guanyu

George Russel

Lewis Hamilton

Fem!Driver

Formula 2

Ollie bearman

Arthur leclerc *

Paul Aron

Dilfs

Sebastian Vettel

Jenson Button

Mark webber

Toto Wolff

Reserve drivers

Mick Schumacher

Liam lawson

Football

Mason mount

#formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x reader #formula 1 fic #lando norris #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #masterlist #f1 masterlist #f1 #charles leclerc x you #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #mick schumacher #esteban ocon #jenson button #mark webber #sebastian vettel #toto wolff #paul aron #arthur leclerc #ollie bearman #george russell #zhou guanyu #yuki tsunoda #lance stroll #Esteban ocean

[deranged-italian]

girl relapses on 8 hours long fanmade youtube beatles documentaries 83219 dead 9239401 injured

#it's insane because this time it's not even some sort of coping mechanism. life is good like for real. apparently i need to balance it out #save me understanding mccartney....understanding mccartney.understanding mccartney save me #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #beatles #x #music

[iheartjohnlennon]

George Harrison overstimulation 🎀 I need that boy CRYING, WINING, GAGGED, TIED. Like, I need him on the brink of consciousness, barely able to form full groans anymore. Pretty pretty please.

'Behind that locked door'

Your home in London, '74-'75

Word count: 3K+

Tags: Vaginal Sex, Overstimulation, Light Dom/sub, Teasing

George was sat on the edge of your bed. He was fidgeting with his feet. Behind him, you lounged against the pillows, half-naked and smiling at him unnoticed. You had been relaxed like this for the past half an hour since you had both showered together.

He was slightly out of your foots reach. All you were staring at was his clothed back. You saw George was quite thin, but he still had tone where it counted. His soft, brown waves flowed down way past his ears. You liked the way he got his hair cut now - it made him look majestic, matured....and it was very, very nice to stroke. But it wasn't just his physical appearance that drew you in; it was his demeanour. There was a depth to him, a spirituality.

What a beauty he was, even when you couldn't see his face at all.

 

The silence between you was comfortable, it allowed you to appreciate him and what not, but eventually, the need for interaction; the need for him; the need for his cock, became too strong to simply ignore. So, you poked his back with your foot a few times.

"George..." You spoke.

Your voice had strained slightly, sounding needy for him.

His expression was calm when he turned to you, but it wasn't without his toothy grin. You could see his cute anticipation. He always sounded so excited on the phone when you invited him over.

"Y/N..." He mimicked back, his voice smooth. 

Taking a breath, you sat up fully and smiled at him. "Come here." 

Without any hesitation, George complied, crawling onto the bed fully, taking away all the space that was between you both before.

He laid on his back and looked to the ceiling. When he settled beside you, you stayed sitting up so you could look down him - lovingly, of course. The sight of him, relaxed and vulnerable beneath you, sent an erotic thrill coursing through you.

You reached out to lightly trace the exposed skin peeking through the undone buttons of his shirt. Your fingers traced there slowly, drawing lazy circles that made him feel nice. 

His head tiredly tilted to the side, trying to decipher what you wanted him to do tonight.

But any thoughts that lingered in his mind were quickly forgotten when he felt your hand grasping his chin.

He looked into your eyes; your usual loving gaze was now clouded with a blunt lust. 

George felt himself falling into relaxation with your touch, brows relaxing as his eyes fell to a half-lidded stare.

Your smile never left your face and George was sure you could tell him to bark and he’d ask, like which dog? 

"Is there anythin' I can do for you?" He asked teasingly, breaking the second silence. 

"Well, it depends." You answered vaguely, holding back a giggle. 

Taking your laughter as an invitation for foreplay, George's hand trailed up your thigh. Before he could even try undressing you, your hand sharply slapped his away. 

"Ow." He felt like a scolded child, he frowned at you. "What? 'm not allowed to touch you now or somethin'?"

You didn't answer him and bit your lip, feeling a bit bad for teasing him, but not bad enough to not proceed with your little plan. 

George was looking to you, waiting for you to either give him permission to feel you, or to tell him what game you were playing today. 

The hand that had slapped him away now drew him in closer by his jaw. You cooed to soothe his frustration - George always fell victim to your words.

"Since someone doesn't know how to keep their hands to themselves, I don't think they should be allowed to use them at all!"

Your voice dripped with sultriness, and your smile was still just as sweet as before - you hoped your dominance was working.

George stared at you, dumbfounded by this new attitude. He didn't dislike it though, and not one to question you, he simply nodded. 

"Yeah, 'course...'m sorry, I'll keep them to meself."

He assured you, wanting to play along with what he thought was just an insignificant role play. 

But then you shook your head, hair bouncing with every direction you turned. "No, no, that won't do. How can I perfectly make sure you won't touch me?"

"I..uh, I dunno, really." He replied.

George’s teeth bit at the inside of his cheek. Shit. You were being serious; you weren't just being silly. 

He tried to think of any reason he could. He wanted to blabber to you that he was a good boy, that he could behave and listen to you - but with the look you gave him, he knew it was better to just...obey?

Then your sharp nail landed under his chin, forcing him to look at you again. And he did, he looked at you from his lashes, strands of his hair covered his face.

He looked weak now, small even. Usually, it was the other way around. You delicately brushed his hair away from his face and gave his nose a small peck.

"I have a really good idea on how. Do you want to know my idea, George?"

George nodded, a bit too eagerly you noticed.

"Go on, use your words. Can't quite hear you if you’re nodding." You snapped. 

His mouth opened and closed thrice, he was desperate to blurt out a yes, but all the emotions he was feeling blocked it.

George blinked and helplessly stared at you, hoping that was enough of an answer. But he knew it wasn’t when you gave him a harsh glare.

"Yes, please. I do want to know, love." He replied eventually, sounding subtly nervous.

 

You veered off the bed and took a short walk to your dresser. George’s eyes followed your every movement lustfully. 

He heard a compartment opening suddenly, then the shifting through it started.

There was something you were looking for, something that George couldn’t figure out yet.

What could you be up to? You had both played with...props before, but your sly demeanour tonight added a weird feeling twist. 

 

When you came back, dangling upon your hand, in a mocking manner, were two ties George had left in your bedroom. Both different colours, different patterns. He watched the fabrics sway, they almost hypnotising him with their swinging. 

His cheeks started to grow red, embarrassment settled in the pit of his stomach.

It had finally registered in his mind what you were going to do to him.

You wanted to tie him up? Tie him up with his own ties? That was sexy, he thought. He could work with this, yeah, he could - and would. 

It’s not like he’d ever tell you no, even though he'd never been tied up before.

 

He adjusted himself, edging closer to where you were standing as he seemingly surrendered himself to you.

"Please, do whatever it is you want with me." His voice was low, a tantalising plea. 

You couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. Maybe he still felt you were just doing a silly roleplay. Either way it didn't matter, you were going to show him.

"I planned on this by the way, you didn’t have to agree, George."

And though these words sounded cruel, George knew you’d never hurt him. At least, not in a way he wouldn’t like, that is.

 

You slowly dropped the ties on the bed, inching closer to him before you completely mounted him in the perfect cowgirl position.

His body settled snug against the mattress, you adjusted the pillows for him so he could feel comfortable.

Your hands rested on his shoulders until you decided it would be best to unbutton his shirt now. 

George’s back arched ever so slightly to encourage you to further your exploration. You slipped his shirt off of him, now he was half naked. He groaned quietly, wanting you to move against him so bad.

You rested your hand on his thighs. He could feel your nails through the thin material of his trousers. His jaw clenched, trying to obey.

"Touch me." He groaned, feeling his cock warm against your thigh. 

Your head tilted, a look of mock sympathy filled his view. Did he say the wrong words again? Yeah, he probably did.

"I didn’t mean t' boss you around, 'm sorry, love."

Instead of a nasty glare, you gave him a smile and light pat against his thigh. "Good, boy."

Good boy, you had said.

Those two words quickly settled into George's mind. 

He was your good boy? 

With your pleased attitude, George smiled. He did something right and that did make him feel good, rewarded. 

You stopped sitting on him so you could fully undress him. You saw the imprint of his cock stiff against his trousers when you got off of him. 

You settled on your knees. Both of your hands found the waistband of his trousers and his boxers. He took a shallow breath in because your wrist stroked against it, it was growing against his own thigh, pulsing, eager to be left free. 

You tugged down at a pace that was killing him. It was barely going past his pubic hair. He groaned in frustration, luckily you didn't take it as that. But he was growing uncomfortable, moving his head as he let out low noises. He wouldn’t whine, that was his only rule to himself. 

"Tut tut, Someone's impatient." You chided, stopping the undressing altogether.

He was caught off guard by your sudden halt. 

"Sorry...please continue, love..." He urged earnestly, wanting nothing more than to please you. 

George wasn't even tied up yet but it bloody felt like he was - he was tied up by your words, your actions. 

You smiled at his submissiveness. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice soft and tender as you resumed your task, still slowly tugging his bottom half down. 

You resumed your task, your fingers pulling m down with just the right amount of resistance.

George's waistband finally slipped past his hips. His cock was fully erect and aching, it slapped against his stomach. You both let out a small sigh of relief, the moment of impatient finally gave way. 

He wanted you to do something about his erection, but he knew it wasn't going to come easy. 

You smell his fear, sense his impatience and feel his need for release. You take your time and relish in the power you hold over him. You put your hands on his thighs and leaned your mouth close to his cock. Your breath ghosted over the tip and your tongue almost licked it. George's heart raced. He wanted to hold the back of your head, like he normally did when you suck him off. But he knows that he has to wait for you to make a move.

George felt a surge of pleasure shoot through him as you leaned in closer, your tongue darted out to tease him with playful licks, only on his tip. Each flick of your tongue sent sparks of electricity coursing through his veins, his breath caught in his throat as he struggled to contain the overwhelming wave of desire that threatened to consume him. He felt himself leaking precum, you take him into your mouth, sucking gently on the tip.

As George felt the exquisite torture of your touch come to an abrupt halt, he found himself painfully hard, his desire reached a fever pitch as he longed to be inside of you. 

 

You moved to restrain him, surprising him with your swift and decisive action. You straddled his stomach, your eyes locked on his, he couldn't help but smile up at you, his excitement now palpable. 

 

With deft fingers, you bind his wrists to the bed frame, securing him in place. And as you looked down at him, a playful glint in your eye, he knew what he was in for.

"Are you ready?" you whispered. 

George nodded eagerly. 

 

As you moved down from straddling his stomach, George watched with bated breath, as you position yourself above his hard cock. 

And yet, despite the overwhelming intensity of the moment, you still wore your underwear, the fabric adding an extra layer of friction that pushed George to the edge of sanity. He felt his wrists straining against the confines of his ties. 

You unclasped your bra, revealing your bare chest to him. Finally, he thought, when he took in the sight before him. Though a pang of disappointment washed over him when he realised he couldn't squeeze them as he normally would. You could sense his frustration, and it made you laugh inside. 

 

You slipped your panties to the side, allowing him access. He watched you with hungry eyes when you did so, revealing the glistening warmth between your thighs.

Before you put him inside, you grabbed his stiffness, stroking him quickly and gripping him firmly. 

With one hand rested lightly on his chest to steady yourself, you reached down with the other, your fingers wrapped around his hardness as you guided him to your cunt. George's breath caught in his throat as his tip first felt the slick heat of you enveloping him. 

George felt just the tip of himself entering you, he was overcome with a rush of sensation unlike anything he's ever experienced before. It's a slow, torturous tease as you guide him inside, inch by agonising inch. 

With each slow descent, George could feel the exquisite tightness of you enveloping him, drawing him in deeper with each tantalising stroke. It's a sweet torture, the sensation of being half-buried inside you driving him to the brink of madness as he longed for more, for deeper penetration.

But you continue to move with a slowness, your pace unhurried as you take him in halfway, then back out again. George felt himself losing control, his breath came in short, ragged gasps as he strained against his restraints, desperate for release.

And yet, despite the frustration and longing that coursed through him, George knew that he wouldn't have it any other way.

 

As George laid there taking it, he could barely find the words to express what he needed. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his body trembled as he watched you move above him, your movements slow and deliberate, driving him to the brink of madness.

"Please," he managed to gasp out, his voice barely a whisper as he struggles to form the words.

He can feel the desperation clawing at him, the need for more, for deeper penetration, threatening to consume him whole.

But you continued your slow, teasing movements, your pace unhurried as you drew out the anticipation, revelling in the power you hele over him. With each downward stroke, you felt yourself growing wetter around him. 

 

"What do you want?" you said, holding back a moan. "Get it out, George."

"Deeper," he gasped, as he arched his hips, seeking more. 

"What do you say, George?" 

You wanted a please. You needed a please. 

"What?" He questioned, too consumed by near climax to understand what you wanted from him just then.

You tutted and shook your head subtly, still continuing your pace. "Say, please, George."

"Please, Y/N." George felt your wetness coating him, he revelled in the sensation of being used by you, unable to control anything without his hands.

 

You placed both of your hands on George's chest, to steady yourself riding. With your newfound control, you began to take him in deeper, your movements deliberate and precise as you took him in from his tip to his balls.

George's senses became overwhelmed by the feel of being fully engulfed by your hole, the tightness of your warmth surrounded him in a cocoon of pleasure. It's a heady rush- the feeling of completely filling you after being teased, paired with the fact that his hands are tied to the bed. 

 

You noticed a change in his usual reactions. Instead of the groans and moans you're accustomed to, he's whimpering, the sound so unlike him that it catches you off guard. It's a raw, primal sound, one that sends a shiver down your spine as you realise just how deeply he's being affected. 

Determined to push him even further, you started moving up and down rougher, more aggressive, your pace quickening as you take him in with force. The room filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the rhythmic clapping noises echoed off the walls. 

With each rough movement, George's whimpering grew louder, his cries of pleasure mingled with your own. You both surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation. 

 

As you both approach your climaxes, George felt the tension building within him. He knew that his wrists would be marked red after, but in the heat of the moment, he wasn't bothered. All he could think about was cumming.

He found himself calling out your name, his voice a hoarse whisper as he lost himself in the pleasure of the moment. He was in a trance, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

 

"Are you close?" You breathed out.

George could only nod hastily, his breath came in short, as he felt himself teetering on the edge of release.

And before he knew it, he spilled himself inside of you, his body trembled with the force of his climax.

He felt you tightening around him, your own climax washed over you.

In that moment, as you both reached the peak of pleasure together, you're lost in a dizzying whirlwind. 

 

You slowed down and eventually stopped riding him. You collapsed beside him in a heap of spent pleasure.

George couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself. Normally, he would reach out to wrap his arms around you, to pull you close and revel in the afterglow of your sex. But with his hands tied, he was unable to do so, and the realisation brought a wry smile to his lips.

 

With a chuckle, George turned his head to look at you. "Are you going to untie me so we can hug?" he asked. 

You met his gaze with a smirk, shaking your head in mock seriousness. "No, you're stuck like this forever."

70's George is the best George.

#george harrison x y/n #the beatles #60s rock #george harrison #the beatles imagine #the beatles smuts #the beatles x reader #vintage #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #george harrison x reader #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles fanart #smut

[japage3moondog]

Headcanons on how the beatles would take care of their partner when they're sick?:)

sure! i was actually sick for like two weeks before this so pretty good timing anon :)

john lennon

john is the one who got you sick. he doesn't like staying home or resting, he only really wants to go out and do things when he shouldn't. he's very reluctant to admit that it's his fault.

he doesn't keep any medication, so he makes you home remedies to hold you off until he can go down to the pharmacy and buy you some proper medicine. his chicken noodle soup is terrible but this man knows how to make a cup of hot tea.

paul macca

as soon as he finds out your sick, he will forbid you from leaving your bed. he doesn't care what he needs to cancel, he'll take care of you until you're 100% better and then some. he already keeps basic cold and flu meds so he's very prepared for this.

every single day he'll cook you breakfast and bring it to you in bed. the only time he lets you up is when he has to wash the sheets and even then he carries you to the couch. as someone who's been worked to the bone, rest is something he values a lot and he wants to make sure you rest when you need to.

george harrison

george really doesn't want to get sick but he can't help but hold you. if you tell him to leave you alone so he doesn't catch what you have, he'll tell you some adorable corny shit like love is the greatest cure. he is not as happy when he gets sick.

he definitely leans more into the natural rememdies but he still takes you to the doctor to make sure it's just a cold. he cuts you little orange slices and makes you lemon and ginger tea with honey. he makes you a home remedy that his mother taught him.

ringo starr

i feel like ringo also got you sick and while he tries to take care of you he gets sick again, so you're both terribly ill but love each other too much to spend the time apart to get better.

not being able to sing without wrecking his voice makes him sad because that's his favourite way to comfort you. so he puts on a record you both know the words to and lip syncs it to you, if you're not both completely exhausted he'll dance you around the living room to cheer you up.

#john lennon x reader #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #ringo starr x reader #the beatles x reader